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qunqun
Give me your herbs, worm.
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MOOD: Interested
OUTFIT: Something skateable?
LOCATION: Family Ice Rink -
basics
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tags
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TL;DR Lol get rekt
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tl;dr
Katya
Katya was finishing lacing up her skates. The pressure was off her, she was really here to watch her sister crash and burn on the ice today.
Dinner had been fun, so had Arts Fest. Really everything that she could’ve ever asked for in a really tense, really awkward, overly polite, passive-aggressive dinner. Like normal, she ignored the little voice in her that wanted to absolutely wreck her general surroundings. Not be daddy’s little perfect politician anymore and just ruin everyone.
But not yet. She had to bide her time more. Wait. Wait until the perfect opening to strike
In the meantime, Stassi was fucked. She was going to have to pull a routine out of her ass and make it good - or miraculously regained all of her skills. Katya was here to watch primarily, but also to appear as the supportive little sister.
She was mostly looking forward to Stassi crashing and burning, to be completely frank. The ex-Olympic skater was good, but she wasn’t “pulling an entire routine out of her ass in order to make it look like she’s been practicing all school year” good. Honestly, it’d take a miracle for anyone to be that good.
Katya stepped onto the ice, gliding with smooth surety. She wasn’t really an Olympic skater, couldn’t really do any fancy maneuvers with jumping and spinning, but she could at least skate with competency for what was needed just to have fun with other children.
Her father had made sure of that, never one to pass up a chance for good reputation among his peers.
“It’s a lovely day for skating, is it not?” Katya said breezily to her sister as she skated up to the edge of the rink where her sister sat, lacing up her own skates. “I cannot wait to see your new routine, sister.”
Katya knew that Stassi did not recognize her as a part of the family on a good day - just another little jab at her where her parents couldn’t see. “How are you feeling today? Nervous?”
She smiled as her parents passed by once again. “Well, your time is about to arrive… Break a leg, and try not to disappoint our parents” And then she glided back to her parents, ever the snake lying in the grass waiting to strike.
code by valen t.
Soap
faisons un vœu
how she's feeling...
Aggravated, bored, impatient.
where she's at...
Studio
Chanel Clairmont
Visuals~ 17 ~ Actress
She couldn’t believe she was here.
In a limo? Heading to an interview?
No, no, no.
Chanel was used to those by the time she was four. She couldn’t believe she was sitting in a car with Lydia. Say what you want about how the blonde is too… serious, hard to get along with, difficult.
Whatever it is that you wanted to call her, be my guest.
Chanel didn’t care for the girl at all.
Care as in trust.
And trust?
As far as she could throw her.
Which wasn’t very far despite how fit the blonde was.
Might be fun to try, though.
Lydia came from the family of an incredibly successful media company. Magazines, newspapers, websites, media companies in general had been the bane of her existence. Growing up, it wasn’t as serious.
As she got older, gained more fame… it got worse. Most of their silly little articles and rumors had done little to no harm to her image.
Besides, Chanel hasn’t even gotten much attention until a little while ago. After that one show’s cancellation and the new movie she’d starred in, right now she was pretty up there, the premiere would only make things skyrocket.
For her career, it was great.
For her mental state?
Next question.
Was the dislike for Lydia personal?
…
Next question.
"Everybody be on your best behavior," Chas spoke, and Chanel’s gaze instantly fell onto Lydia and to Casey beside her. She knew Chas wasn’t talking to her, if Chanel was anything, it was always professional.
Career first.
Everything else last.
The car pulled into the studio garage and Chas got to working on his ever-so flat hair. It was a shame, really. The boy really needed product.
Chanel adjusted her skirt, nothing more.
She already knew she looked good. Not to mention the fact that they'd do a touchup before the interview. The door to the limo opened and Chanel allowed everyone else to step out before she did, glancing around the studio’s parking lot.
"So, tell me why Cami couldn't make it again?"
Why?
Well, that’s because Cami felt like being childish.
Chanel might’ve been a tad upset about Camille not showing, now she had to suffer with Chas and Lydia. Be that as it may, Chas wasn’t the worst of the two. Lydia was the person Chanel had history with. But she wouldn’t get into that now.
“She was sick,” Chanel lied just as Cami did, catching Casey’s eye and throwing him a glare to follow her lead.
Yes, so Camille had lied about liking Elias Johannes, had lied about wanting to go to Winter Ball with her, and lied about being sick so she didn’t have to suffer through the interview all because Casey had upset her.
And of course, Chanel was left picking up the pieces and paying for someone else’s mistake. It wasn’t a mistake persay, but it was in Chanel’s eyes.
You don’t leave your sister to do an interview she absolutely did not want to do.
Why did she cover for her?
That was simple.
Just because Cami had betrayed Chanel...
Doesn’t mean that she was going to let her sister look unprofessional, the last thing they needed-- was a rumor that one of the Clairmonts was a slacker.
Lazy.
And so incredibly irritating that--
Chanel took a deep breath, composing herself before finishing that thought.
"Unless Lydia's featuring me in the school paper, this stand-in comes as a bit of a downgrade." Chas said and Chanel merely glanced at Lydia, she had to admit. The little man was humorous sometimes.
"Please don't tell me you're that desperate for exposure that you're willing to be this week's upcoming star in the school newspaper." Chanel was teasing, she wasn't entirely serious.
If she hated you, you'd know.
"At any rate, do me a favor and don't look, speak, or breathe funny near my mom. She gets... different on filming days. You get her going and she doesn't let up. God willing there's enough Perrier in the fridge to last her through the day."
Chanel didn’t hate Chas’s mother.
But she didn’t like her either.
It was someone slapping a personality on themselves every other day to shoot an episode.
But that was the thing about show business. Chanel didn’t really like anybody, but she pretended to. She knew what to say, how to fake a smile, how to mock interest.
"You'd be doing yourselves a favor keeping quiet, really." So when Chas had said that Chanel believed him.
But didn’t mean she’d listen.
Surely Chas’s mother hadn’t gotten senile over the last few years, she wouldn’t make the mistake of upsetting a guest--
Especially a Clairmont.
“You might not be able to handle your mother, but the three of us can, I’m sure.” She stated, taking a heavy breath and crossing her arms.
She was starting to get antsy.
Chanel hated standing around.
She was impatient from time to time. Where were the stage managers? The makeup crew? A talk show didn’t run itself.
Yes, they had just gotten here.
But they shouldn’t of been sitting here so long without an escort.
Unless…
Chas was the escort.
The blonde shook her head, believe it or not, it wasn’t surprising that she’d make her son do the dirty work. It’d make sense for who he is today.
“You remember everything we talked about, yeah?"
Chanel raised an eyebrow, her attention snapping to Casey.
“What is it that you two talked about?”
When her siblings were involved, it was hard to get anything passed Chanel. She was always there the second any of them were mentioned, Mikaela included.
At the thought of her, Nellie made a mental note to check on her.
Something had been… off with the brunette this last week.
She wasn’t sure what it was entirely, or if it could’ve been tied to the loss of her father. But that’d been such a long time ago. Nevertheless, Chanel was uneasy about the whole situation.
"You checked him for lighters before we left, right?"
Ah.
Of course she had.
But she knew she was forgetting something.
“Thank you for the reminder.” Chanel had made sure to empty his pockets, shirt pockets, wallet, a random hat that he’d probably brought just to bring, except for one thing.
The blonde held a hand out, gesturing towards his shoe.
“I don’t have all day.”
Once Casey obliged, the safety was turned on and it was placed into her purse.
“How many times have I told you that the safety should always be turned on if you’re not using it?” If it was up to Chanel, Casey wouldn’t have anything to do with fire period. But as he got older, it had gotten more and more difficult to keep an eye on him.
Casey was like… the puppy Chanel never wanted.
Always getting into something.
Always whining.
Always needing her undivided attention.
"This filming is a big deal, you guys. For all of us,"
“Not all of us.” Chanel retorted.
She wasn’t about to pretend like she needed this.
She didn’t.
Chanel was here because her brother had asked her to be.
Nothing more, nothing less.
"Chanellamie, Lydianna, you're in the way, friends."
Chas lifted his phone for a picture and Chanel didn’t even smile, in fact, she wasn’t even surprised when he told her and Lydia to move out of the frame. The blonde rolled her eyes, but complying, she stepped out of the camera’s view.
“My apologies, Chastian-- you’re right. You wouldn’t want my 1.4 million followers to suddenly see that I’m tagged in a photo with you,”
She sighed, carefully moving hair out of her face and behind her shoulders.
“My fans aren’t kind with newcomers to fame.”
Even Lydia had more followers than him. Sure, she was less popular, but-- she was a female. There were plenty of foreign men who followed anyone as long as they identified with the opposite gender.
Now, Chanel isn’t saying all of Lydia’s non-existent fan base is foreigners who message and send inappropriate photos.
But if the shoe fits…
“Lydia, move out of the way. Allow our friend Chas to use Casey for a few hundred likes.”
Chanel wasn’t even very interested in social media. She posted and all that, but once in a while. She didn’t see the need to post everything she does at every second of the day. Whoever did that was ridiculous. If it was up to her, she would’ve deleted all social media. But alas, some people just couldn’t go a week without her.
“Can we hurry along with the impromptu photo shoot? Lydia must be so eager for her first-ever interview.”
♡coded by uxie♡
Winona
No, I don't have too many characters.
Casey Clairmont
Everything was looking up Casey Clairmont -- which wasn't really hard to believe, 'cause everything was always looking up Casey Clairmont. The smile on his face seemed to be a permanent fixture, especially ever since him and his little sisters had started going to school at Hollywood Arts. Turns out that public school was like eighty-five million billion gagillion times better than ever being stuck with your boring sisters on a tour bus.
He'd finally met people that got him. Ya know that Newt dude? Yeah, him, and that Hunter guy, and they had their little Weed Buds group and Casey finally had dude friends. Yep, that's right, real dudes that wanted to be his friend, and not stupid little girls like Mikky that never wanted to play his cool games, or stupid sisters like Cami that used to practice her stupid makeup skills on him.
Real dudes that were all woo mud and fire and sparkly suits.
Sure, he'd had Chas, but Chas was never into cool fun stuff.
'Course, being all at this school and in different departments had meant that Casey didn't really see his sisters a whole super lot anymore. That had been kinda hard to get used to, but Casey had rolled with it great and now he had people that he hung out with and followed 'round at school instead.
Like Bellala. And Lydia. And Chas. And Avery--
...
It would seem that Casey spent a lotta time in the lit department.
Anyway, they were all super cool and stuff. And him and Bella were definitely basically besties now, but his stupid sisters thought they were going to the Winter Ball together, which was just funny and dumb, 'cause Bella had made it clear it was just friendship flowers, and Casey didn't wanna go with Bella. Not that there was anything wrong with Bella, but Casey really, really wanted to go with only one girl.
And that girl was the pretty, gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, perfect Lydia Fox, who he'd invited to come along for support for his interview instead of Cami 'cause Cami was mad at him.
It was an upgrade, though, and Casey was real glad that Cami had opted out 'cause it meant that he was alone in the back of Chas' car with Lydia Fox. And he'd done his best to be real cool and real flirty, but it was Casey, so it wasn't the best attempt at either of those things. His inability to form words (ya know, where he'd try to mime out what he wanted to say) seemed to be even worse when he was all nervous round Lydia.
As they arrived, though, and got outta the car, Casey pretty much ignored Nellie and Chas. Instead, his focus was pretty much completely on Lydia, and he held up a hand to her as the car came to a stop. "Oh, oh, oh, wait, wait, wait," he told Lydia as he fumbled for the door handle, keeping his eyes glued to her with a dorky little grin on his face. "Just, just, just, one sec, ok? Just uhh... sit right there, don't move." He said, pointing a finger at her as the door opened and he went to step out, but kinda misjudged how far down the ground was, and ended up almost falling flat on his face as he climbed outta the car.
But he kept a cool grin on his face as he did so, and then he shut his door real fast and then he ran round the car real fast, and he pulled the door open for Lydia. Casey being the real gentleman he was even held his hand out to help Lydia outta the car, and oh my god, holy heck, she actually took his hand. Her hand was so small, and soft, and perfect, and it fit real nice in his, and Casey didn't really wanna let go and-- and-- and--
He knew that Chanel and Chas were talking, and he was supposed to be part of the conversation, but he wasn't really listening, 'cause he was all caught up in smiling goofily at Lydia. And he knew that he should probably say something, but words were kinda hard as they started following after Nellie and Chas, and he didn't really let go of Lydia's hand, 'cause he didn't want to, although he wasn't really hold, holding it, he was kinda just lightly holding it.
"You look real pretty," Casey said with a laugh. "I mean, you always look real, real pretty, but you look real, real, real pretty today, like ah... like uhh... like..." he was trying to say like a model or something, but he didn't know how to word that, so he just let out another little giggle.
'Course, one word (or actually a series of words) always managed to catch his attention.
"You checked him for lighters before we left, right?" Chas was asking, and now Casey's attention was turned from Lydia to look at Chas and his little sister.
Nellie had already practically shaken him down and found all his lighters -- all of them! Even the one that Casey was gonna try and hide in his hair, the fedora lighter, his right pocket, left pocket, right back pocket, left back pocket, the little one that he fit in his wallet, the one he would drop in his little front shirt pocket. She'd even found the one that he'd dropped down the front of his shirt that kinda got stuck there 'cause he had his shirt tucked in like a real professional, but she'd forgotten one real important one, and that was Casey's favorite.
His shoe lighter.
Ya know, in case some ninjas popped up, and then Casey would whip off his shoe and whip out his lighter and be all "back or else you get the flame."
(He had many dreams where this very scenario happened.)
“Thank you for the reminder.” Chanel said, and then she held her hand out and gestured to his shoe, and Casey's shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t have all day.”
"No fun," Casey said, sticking his tongue out dramatically at Chanel before he let go of Lydia's hand and dropped down to sit on the ground. He had his nice black Converse on, and Converse were great and snazzy, but they were a real pain to get off, and untying shoes was already kinda difficult, so it took a bit for Casey to get his shoe off, dump the lighter out onto the parking lot pavement in front of him, and then pull his shoe back on and lace it up.
He stood up, shoulders slouched forward, gorgeous lighter in hand. He looked down at it sadly and brought it up to his face, giving it a gentle little goodbye kiss (although he smelled kinda like dirty feet, so maybe he shouldn't've done that), and then he passed it over to Chanel. He watched with sad eyes as she dropped it into her purse.
Casey Clairmont. Lighterless.
Oh woe was him.
“How many times have I told you that the safety should always be turned on if you’re not using it?” Chanel lectured him.
"I don't got time to turn the whole safety off if it's... it's..." he trailed off, raising his hands up, trying to think of his words, but again they failed to come to him. "Ya know." He said, although no one really knew.
"This filming is a big deal, you guys. For all of us," Chas said.
Casey watched curiously as he took a whole bunch a selfies. Pfft. Boring.
“Not all of us.” Chanel retorted.
"Is for me," Casey said with a matter-of-fact nod of his head, and he was about to say that it was to get on the good side of Chas' mom so she'd let him marry Priscilla, but then he remembered that Lydia was like right there. And Casey couldn't have her knowing that he was in love with someone else.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Chas was still snapping away with his phone, and then his arm flailed out in Casey's direction. It was an effort to grab Casey's arm, although Casey didn't realize that, so he kinda just reached out and fist bumped the hand with a little chuckle 'cause hehe, it kinda was almost like that turkey thing people did.
Casey liked turkeys, 'cept for that one that had tried to attack him when he was real little. That one could catch on fire and Casey wouldn't care one little bit. Nope sirree.
"Casey, get in the picture," Chas ordered, "Chanellamie, Lydianna, you're in the way, friends."
"Sorry," Casey mouthed in Lydia's direction with a shrug like this was normal. Like it was normal for people to get photos with him for publicity, 'cause really it was, but also acting like it was something super, super normal kinda made Casey look even cooler than he really was, and maybe that would kinda help his chances with Lydia.
He slid in next to Chas and leaned down so that he was in the camera better ('cause Casey was real tall, and Chas was kinda real short, so he wanted to make sure that he was in the photos, duh), and gave a wide-toothed grin in the direction of the camera. He smiled so wide that his mouth kinda started to hurt.
To the side, he could hear Chanel complaining, probably 'cause she wasn't added in on the pictures, and she was probably real jealous that she wasn't as popular as her big brother Casey. Ya know, Casey with the real good music that could definitely sell out a whole concert if he wanted to.
He was gonna save that little tidbit of information to try and impress Lydia later.
“Can we hurry along with the impromptu photo shoot? Lydia must be so eager for her first-ever interview.” Chanel continued with the cutting remarks.
Once Chas released Casey from the photoshoot, he straightened back up to his full height and let out another laugh as he walked back towards Lydia and Chanel, and moved so he was between Nellie and Lydia 'cause Nellie was being a real bitch, and he didn't want Lydia to be all hurt.
"Oh c'mon, Nellie," Casey said with another laugh to try and make everything not as negative. "Loosen up," he wiggled his arms as an example of loosening up, "it's gonna be real fun if ya just relax, ya know? We'll get there, we'll get there," he said with another laugh, and then Casey hopped his way back over to Chas.
Yes, hopped. As in two jumps until he was next to Chas, and then he threw an arm 'round his smaller friend, and tugged him in the direction of where he thought they might be a heading to. After all, Casey had been interviewed by the Claudia (they were definitely on a first name basis) before, so it wasn't like he felt nervous or somethin' 'bout going, and it wasn't like he was totally blind as to where they were headed.
"Definitely remember everything we talked 'bout," Casey said, giving a sure nod of his head as they walked. "I get a real nifty lil keychain, maybe even two so I can wear 'em as earrings, right? Oh! Or three 'cause then I can have a real cool keychain like you got," Casey said and he pointed in the direction of one of Chas' pockets for emphasis, 'cause Chas did have a lotta real cool keychains and he was kinda jealous.
Casey also definitely didn't remember anything that they talked about, but he was a real professional, so he'd just go out there and wow the ground with his razzle and his dazzle and a few lighter tricks--
Err, no lighter tricks 'cause someone had so rudely taken his lighter.
He'd finally met people that got him. Ya know that Newt dude? Yeah, him, and that Hunter guy, and they had their little Weed Buds group and Casey finally had dude friends. Yep, that's right, real dudes that wanted to be his friend, and not stupid little girls like Mikky that never wanted to play his cool games, or stupid sisters like Cami that used to practice her stupid makeup skills on him.
Real dudes that were all woo mud and fire and sparkly suits.
Sure, he'd had Chas, but Chas was never into cool fun stuff.
'Course, being all at this school and in different departments had meant that Casey didn't really see his sisters a whole super lot anymore. That had been kinda hard to get used to, but Casey had rolled with it great and now he had people that he hung out with and followed 'round at school instead.
Like Bellala. And Lydia. And Chas. And Avery--
...
It would seem that Casey spent a lotta time in the lit department.
Anyway, they were all super cool and stuff. And him and Bella were definitely basically besties now, but his stupid sisters thought they were going to the Winter Ball together, which was just funny and dumb, 'cause Bella had made it clear it was just friendship flowers, and Casey didn't wanna go with Bella. Not that there was anything wrong with Bella, but Casey really, really wanted to go with only one girl.
And that girl was the pretty, gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, perfect Lydia Fox, who he'd invited to come along for support for his interview instead of Cami 'cause Cami was mad at him.
It was an upgrade, though, and Casey was real glad that Cami had opted out 'cause it meant that he was alone in the back of Chas' car with Lydia Fox. And he'd done his best to be real cool and real flirty, but it was Casey, so it wasn't the best attempt at either of those things. His inability to form words (ya know, where he'd try to mime out what he wanted to say) seemed to be even worse when he was all nervous round Lydia.
As they arrived, though, and got outta the car, Casey pretty much ignored Nellie and Chas. Instead, his focus was pretty much completely on Lydia, and he held up a hand to her as the car came to a stop. "Oh, oh, oh, wait, wait, wait," he told Lydia as he fumbled for the door handle, keeping his eyes glued to her with a dorky little grin on his face. "Just, just, just, one sec, ok? Just uhh... sit right there, don't move." He said, pointing a finger at her as the door opened and he went to step out, but kinda misjudged how far down the ground was, and ended up almost falling flat on his face as he climbed outta the car.
But he kept a cool grin on his face as he did so, and then he shut his door real fast and then he ran round the car real fast, and he pulled the door open for Lydia. Casey being the real gentleman he was even held his hand out to help Lydia outta the car, and oh my god, holy heck, she actually took his hand. Her hand was so small, and soft, and perfect, and it fit real nice in his, and Casey didn't really wanna let go and-- and-- and--
He knew that Chanel and Chas were talking, and he was supposed to be part of the conversation, but he wasn't really listening, 'cause he was all caught up in smiling goofily at Lydia. And he knew that he should probably say something, but words were kinda hard as they started following after Nellie and Chas, and he didn't really let go of Lydia's hand, 'cause he didn't want to, although he wasn't really hold, holding it, he was kinda just lightly holding it.
"You look real pretty," Casey said with a laugh. "I mean, you always look real, real pretty, but you look real, real, real pretty today, like ah... like uhh... like..." he was trying to say like a model or something, but he didn't know how to word that, so he just let out another little giggle.
'Course, one word (or actually a series of words) always managed to catch his attention.
"You checked him for lighters before we left, right?" Chas was asking, and now Casey's attention was turned from Lydia to look at Chas and his little sister.
Nellie had already practically shaken him down and found all his lighters -- all of them! Even the one that Casey was gonna try and hide in his hair, the fedora lighter, his right pocket, left pocket, right back pocket, left back pocket, the little one that he fit in his wallet, the one he would drop in his little front shirt pocket. She'd even found the one that he'd dropped down the front of his shirt that kinda got stuck there 'cause he had his shirt tucked in like a real professional, but she'd forgotten one real important one, and that was Casey's favorite.
His shoe lighter.
Ya know, in case some ninjas popped up, and then Casey would whip off his shoe and whip out his lighter and be all "back or else you get the flame."
(He had many dreams where this very scenario happened.)
“Thank you for the reminder.” Chanel said, and then she held her hand out and gestured to his shoe, and Casey's shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t have all day.”
"No fun," Casey said, sticking his tongue out dramatically at Chanel before he let go of Lydia's hand and dropped down to sit on the ground. He had his nice black Converse on, and Converse were great and snazzy, but they were a real pain to get off, and untying shoes was already kinda difficult, so it took a bit for Casey to get his shoe off, dump the lighter out onto the parking lot pavement in front of him, and then pull his shoe back on and lace it up.
He stood up, shoulders slouched forward, gorgeous lighter in hand. He looked down at it sadly and brought it up to his face, giving it a gentle little goodbye kiss (although he smelled kinda like dirty feet, so maybe he shouldn't've done that), and then he passed it over to Chanel. He watched with sad eyes as she dropped it into her purse.
Casey Clairmont. Lighterless.
Oh woe was him.
“How many times have I told you that the safety should always be turned on if you’re not using it?” Chanel lectured him.
"I don't got time to turn the whole safety off if it's... it's..." he trailed off, raising his hands up, trying to think of his words, but again they failed to come to him. "Ya know." He said, although no one really knew.
"This filming is a big deal, you guys. For all of us," Chas said.
Casey watched curiously as he took a whole bunch a selfies. Pfft. Boring.
“Not all of us.” Chanel retorted.
"Is for me," Casey said with a matter-of-fact nod of his head, and he was about to say that it was to get on the good side of Chas' mom so she'd let him marry Priscilla, but then he remembered that Lydia was like right there. And Casey couldn't have her knowing that he was in love with someone else.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Chas was still snapping away with his phone, and then his arm flailed out in Casey's direction. It was an effort to grab Casey's arm, although Casey didn't realize that, so he kinda just reached out and fist bumped the hand with a little chuckle 'cause hehe, it kinda was almost like that turkey thing people did.
Casey liked turkeys, 'cept for that one that had tried to attack him when he was real little. That one could catch on fire and Casey wouldn't care one little bit. Nope sirree.
"Casey, get in the picture," Chas ordered, "Chanellamie, Lydianna, you're in the way, friends."
"Sorry," Casey mouthed in Lydia's direction with a shrug like this was normal. Like it was normal for people to get photos with him for publicity, 'cause really it was, but also acting like it was something super, super normal kinda made Casey look even cooler than he really was, and maybe that would kinda help his chances with Lydia.
He slid in next to Chas and leaned down so that he was in the camera better ('cause Casey was real tall, and Chas was kinda real short, so he wanted to make sure that he was in the photos, duh), and gave a wide-toothed grin in the direction of the camera. He smiled so wide that his mouth kinda started to hurt.
To the side, he could hear Chanel complaining, probably 'cause she wasn't added in on the pictures, and she was probably real jealous that she wasn't as popular as her big brother Casey. Ya know, Casey with the real good music that could definitely sell out a whole concert if he wanted to.
He was gonna save that little tidbit of information to try and impress Lydia later.
“Can we hurry along with the impromptu photo shoot? Lydia must be so eager for her first-ever interview.” Chanel continued with the cutting remarks.
Once Chas released Casey from the photoshoot, he straightened back up to his full height and let out another laugh as he walked back towards Lydia and Chanel, and moved so he was between Nellie and Lydia 'cause Nellie was being a real bitch, and he didn't want Lydia to be all hurt.
"Oh c'mon, Nellie," Casey said with another laugh to try and make everything not as negative. "Loosen up," he wiggled his arms as an example of loosening up, "it's gonna be real fun if ya just relax, ya know? We'll get there, we'll get there," he said with another laugh, and then Casey hopped his way back over to Chas.
Yes, hopped. As in two jumps until he was next to Chas, and then he threw an arm 'round his smaller friend, and tugged him in the direction of where he thought they might be a heading to. After all, Casey had been interviewed by the Claudia (they were definitely on a first name basis) before, so it wasn't like he felt nervous or somethin' 'bout going, and it wasn't like he was totally blind as to where they were headed.
"Definitely remember everything we talked 'bout," Casey said, giving a sure nod of his head as they walked. "I get a real nifty lil keychain, maybe even two so I can wear 'em as earrings, right? Oh! Or three 'cause then I can have a real cool keychain like you got," Casey said and he pointed in the direction of one of Chas' pockets for emphasis, 'cause Chas did have a lotta real cool keychains and he was kinda jealous.
Casey also definitely didn't remember anything that they talked about, but he was a real professional, so he'd just go out there and wow the ground with his razzle and his dazzle and a few lighter tricks--
Err, no lighter tricks 'cause someone had so rudely taken his lighter.
mood
feelinggg goood good gooood
location
parking garage woo
outfit
something interview worthy
feelinggg goood good gooood
location
parking garage woo
outfit
something interview worthy
playing...
Kerosene
Kerosene
by Courage My Love
mentions
Mikky, Cami, Newt, Hunter, Avery, Bellala
interactions
Chas, Nellie, Lydia
tags
hery
Soap
gh0stwriter
Mikky, Cami, Newt, Hunter, Avery, Bellala
interactions
Chas, Nellie, Lydia
tags
hery
Soap
gh0stwriter
Winona
No, I don't have too many characters.
Ava Sanders
After that little disagreement with Jules earlier in the evening, Ava's "plans" for the night of attending a fucking foam party that she never wanted to step foot near were cancelled. Oh no. What an absolute fucking bummer. She was just so torn up and upset about now having to spend the night at home.
And she'd taken to playing video games in her room, although she was distracted by all these thoughts about JJ. About her being alone at that party, about all of the uncharacteristic JJ behavior... fuck...
When she died for the tenth time from a fucking newbie, Ava let out an angry hmpf and in a momentary fit of rage, she threw her controller at her TV screen -- an act that she'd done a handful of times before... so you think she would've learned by now that controller plus television screen never ended well.
Her controller fell to the ground as the now cracked screen TV went dark.
Well fuck.
She stood up, grabbed her shit, sent a text to that Kian dude asking where the fucking party was, and Ava was on her way.
So yeah, against her better judgment, Ava was at the stupid freaking foam party. Her posture was slouched, her expression one of pure disgust and annoyance as she entered the stupid party. She slid her way past a couple people near the front, shrugging away when one of the girls tried to touch her.
Once she was farther into the party, she started looking for the sole reason that she had bothered to show up to this ridiculous place -- her best friend.
Her gaze moved across the crowded party, past people that were obviously not Jules, past chicks doing shots, dancing up on guys, ha, one brunette was even trying to fight--
Oh fuck, that wasn't a random brunette.
Ava darted forward until she was behind Jules, and she grabbed her arm before she could throw a punch and yanked her towards her. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Ava hissed through gritted teeth as she tugged JJ towards the front door.
“Get off of me!” She said, trying to rip free from Ava’s grasp.
Surprisingly, the tiny brunette was fucking savage when she had a little too much to drink, because she managed to pull away from Ava's tight grasp and she lunged forward and picked up a fucking--
She picked up a fucking knife.
"Oh fuck no," Ava hissed under her breath as she grabbed hold of JJ's wrist, yanking the knife away from her and tossing it back onto the kitchen counter beside her before Ava wrapped her arms around Jules' waist and started to carry her away. All while JJ continued to bitch, of course.
“You’re so fucking lucky— Let me go, Ava. Let. Me. Go.” She said through gritted teeth.
"No," Ava hissed.
But while Ava was carrying her away, Jules started to squirm. And then she realized that she was pulling off a heel (probably to throw at that dude), so Ava reached to try and get it, but between fucking fighting Jules, trying to carry her, and trying to keep her balance on the foam, well--
She slipped and ended up crashing to the floor, landing roughly on her back with Jules on top of her. The air rushed from her lungs and for a moment, she laid in stunned shock before she let out a groan and pushed herself up into a sitting position. As her eyes opened, she realized that she was face-to-face with Jules and for a moment, her heart stopped.
Like full on caught in her chest, and then it started beating fast.
Until she shoved Jules off of her and stood back up.
Now, she was seated outside beside Jules. Foam coated her clothes and Ava was busy running a hand through her hair to try and get most of it out of the tangled red waves, but eventually, she gave up when she felt like it was going nowhere.
Covered in foam that smelled like weed, booze, and desperation.
Fucking great.
“What are you even doing here? I told you not to come.” Jules asked, and Ava glanced over at her best friend.
She let out a soft snort, shaking her head. Ava looked down at her shoes to see a giant bit of foam, and she kicked her foot out to send it flying down onto the sidewalk. She watched the little bubbles for a moment, unsure of how to answer that question.
Because she was worried? Because this wasn't the JJ she knew?
She didn't want to say that, though.
Silence for a little while longer, and then Ava finally forced herself to speak.
"I ah... I dunno. Just wanted to make sure you had someone here," Ava mumbled. "I knew Dorian wasn't coming, and umm... I don't really trust any of these other fuckers. Just wanted to make sure you were safe. I guess."
She felt a little uncomfortable after saying that, although it shouldn't have been. She cared about her best friend, and she didn't want JJ getting hurt. Ever... but Ava knew that the feelings of protection kind of spread beyond her just being best friends. Like sure, that was the basis of the feelings, but it spread so much farther than that because she didn't want to be... just... friends with her.
Ava felt JJ's eyes on her, and she finally tore her gaze away from the ground to look over at the little brunette.
"... I don't really like fighting with you." JJ said.
Yeah, Ava didn't like fighting with her, either. It felt wrong.
"... You hurt my feelings... Or whatever."
Ava winced and she looked away from Jules at the same time that JJ looked away from her. She knew that she had, but she didn't like... hearing it. She didn't like being reminded of her mistakes.
"Look," Jules continued. "I... know I'm not easy, okay?"
Yeah, that's kind of why Ava lov--
Liked.
That's why Ava liked her.
As a friend.
"I know you think I make decisions that's wrong for me and I like people that I shouldn't, and I'm like, a major stereotypical, inconsiderate and materialistic bitch and stuff. I know everyone says that and maybe they're not wrong, but..."
Ava winced again as Jules repeated back her cutting words.
"... You're not everyone to me."
Her heart was pounding in her chest again, and Ava was able to tear her eyes away from the road to look back over at Jules. She wasn't sure what to say, the words sticking to her tongue and not coming out as her lips parted and for a moment, she just studied the profile of her best friend. You know, the face of her best friend that she could easily draw from memory.
Not... in a creepy way.
"I'm so... so sorry, Jules," Ava mumbled. "I don't... I didn't mean what I said. You're not... you're not any of that. You're... like... everything. Perfect everything, and I don't... I don't know why I said that. I was just..."
Jealous.
"Angry, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I don't like fighting you, either, you're... like... more than my best friend. Like... everything to me and I'm so, so sorry about what I said."
Fuck.
Ava was speaking a little more than she felt like she fucking should've, but...
She couldn't stop the words once they'd started.
Jules was crying, and Ava felt panicked for a moment because, well, she wasn't the greatest at this whole comforting thing, and she also just... hated seeing tears fall down her friend's face. But then Jules leaned against her, wrapping her arms around Ava's waist and laying her head against her shoulder, and for a moment, everything felt okay. Ava wrapped an arm around Jules' shoulders, pulling her close and for a while, they just sat there in relative silence, and for Ava, everything in that moment felt right.
"... You really should've let me get a good punch in." Jules said with a soft laugh, and Ava's lips broke into a small smile and she let out a small laugh and gave a little nod of her head.
"I'm not perfect." She said, although her words were a bit muffled against Ava. The silence stretched out for a few more moments, and then Jules pulled away from her and Ava found them face-to-face again.
Her heart was thudding away in her chest.
Her cheeks were probably flushed a dark red, which she'd just sum up to being like phew it's hot out here or some other lame excuse if asked why.
But Ava didn't pull away. She was frozen still in Jules' gaze as her friend studied her friend. She let out a soft, awkward laugh.
She really wanted to lean in, close that small distance between them...
Ava's gaze kept faltering down to look at Jules' lips.
"Ava," Jules said, her brows furrowed.
Her gaze snapped back up to meet her eyes.
"Yeah?" She asked, swallowing the nervous lump in her throat.
Silence for a moment, just the sound of her heart beating in her throat, and the sound of their breathing.
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
Her lips broke into a smile, and she let out a laugh.
Ava loosened her grip on Jules and stood up before holding out a hand to help up the little brunette.
"Come on, you can puke on Javi's car and then we'll head home."
A week later, and the whole foam party debacle still held too much of Ava's time. Like she found herself still thinking over that moment sitting out on the stairs, although for different reasons than feeling guilty over the words that she'd said to her best friend, it was for...
Well, nothing important.
“Is there a reason you’re setting this up in the living room?”
Alex's voice caused Ava to jump, and she slammed her head upwards into the table that held the television in their living room. She winced as she finished plugging in a cord and then crawled back out from underneath, sitting back on the carpet and rubbing at her head as she glared at her roommate.
"Bigger screen. Got an important tournament coming up," Ava lied because uhh... well, she still hadn't managed to replace the television in her room. She just kind of threw a blanket over it and pretended that it didn't exist, although she was getting annoyed with only being able to play game on her desktop.
“Have you seen my keys? I’m not really a fan of getting locked out tonight while you’re shooting and screaming a people.” Alex asked. She actually looked kind of pretty for once, and Ava was a little suspicious about why.
She had a feeling it had to do with fucking Naomi.
"I don't keep track of your shit," Ava replied, but after a moment of silence, she nodded towards the basket on the end table next to the couch. "Check the basket. Usually where I toss your keys and shit when I don't know where to put it." She explained because, okay, maybe she did know where Alex's stuff usually was.
“I’m going out with Simone, so I might not be home till late.”
Simone?
Interesting. Better than Naomi.
Unfortunately, Ava spoke too soon.
“I… uh, have a thing with Naomi too.”
Fucking great.
"That explains why you're getting all dolled up," Ava said with a little matter-of-fact nod of her head. "Date or...?"
And she'd taken to playing video games in her room, although she was distracted by all these thoughts about JJ. About her being alone at that party, about all of the uncharacteristic JJ behavior... fuck...
When she died for the tenth time from a fucking newbie, Ava let out an angry hmpf and in a momentary fit of rage, she threw her controller at her TV screen -- an act that she'd done a handful of times before... so you think she would've learned by now that controller plus television screen never ended well.
Her controller fell to the ground as the now cracked screen TV went dark.
Well fuck.
She stood up, grabbed her shit, sent a text to that Kian dude asking where the fucking party was, and Ava was on her way.
So yeah, against her better judgment, Ava was at the stupid freaking foam party. Her posture was slouched, her expression one of pure disgust and annoyance as she entered the stupid party. She slid her way past a couple people near the front, shrugging away when one of the girls tried to touch her.
Once she was farther into the party, she started looking for the sole reason that she had bothered to show up to this ridiculous place -- her best friend.
Her gaze moved across the crowded party, past people that were obviously not Jules, past chicks doing shots, dancing up on guys, ha, one brunette was even trying to fight--
Oh fuck, that wasn't a random brunette.
Ava darted forward until she was behind Jules, and she grabbed her arm before she could throw a punch and yanked her towards her. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Ava hissed through gritted teeth as she tugged JJ towards the front door.
“Get off of me!” She said, trying to rip free from Ava’s grasp.
Surprisingly, the tiny brunette was fucking savage when she had a little too much to drink, because she managed to pull away from Ava's tight grasp and she lunged forward and picked up a fucking--
She picked up a fucking knife.
"Oh fuck no," Ava hissed under her breath as she grabbed hold of JJ's wrist, yanking the knife away from her and tossing it back onto the kitchen counter beside her before Ava wrapped her arms around Jules' waist and started to carry her away. All while JJ continued to bitch, of course.
“You’re so fucking lucky— Let me go, Ava. Let. Me. Go.” She said through gritted teeth.
"No," Ava hissed.
But while Ava was carrying her away, Jules started to squirm. And then she realized that she was pulling off a heel (probably to throw at that dude), so Ava reached to try and get it, but between fucking fighting Jules, trying to carry her, and trying to keep her balance on the foam, well--
She slipped and ended up crashing to the floor, landing roughly on her back with Jules on top of her. The air rushed from her lungs and for a moment, she laid in stunned shock before she let out a groan and pushed herself up into a sitting position. As her eyes opened, she realized that she was face-to-face with Jules and for a moment, her heart stopped.
Like full on caught in her chest, and then it started beating fast.
Until she shoved Jules off of her and stood back up.
------------------------------
Now, she was seated outside beside Jules. Foam coated her clothes and Ava was busy running a hand through her hair to try and get most of it out of the tangled red waves, but eventually, she gave up when she felt like it was going nowhere.
Covered in foam that smelled like weed, booze, and desperation.
Fucking great.
“What are you even doing here? I told you not to come.” Jules asked, and Ava glanced over at her best friend.
She let out a soft snort, shaking her head. Ava looked down at her shoes to see a giant bit of foam, and she kicked her foot out to send it flying down onto the sidewalk. She watched the little bubbles for a moment, unsure of how to answer that question.
Because she was worried? Because this wasn't the JJ she knew?
She didn't want to say that, though.
Silence for a little while longer, and then Ava finally forced herself to speak.
"I ah... I dunno. Just wanted to make sure you had someone here," Ava mumbled. "I knew Dorian wasn't coming, and umm... I don't really trust any of these other fuckers. Just wanted to make sure you were safe. I guess."
She felt a little uncomfortable after saying that, although it shouldn't have been. She cared about her best friend, and she didn't want JJ getting hurt. Ever... but Ava knew that the feelings of protection kind of spread beyond her just being best friends. Like sure, that was the basis of the feelings, but it spread so much farther than that because she didn't want to be... just... friends with her.
Ava felt JJ's eyes on her, and she finally tore her gaze away from the ground to look over at the little brunette.
"... I don't really like fighting with you." JJ said.
Yeah, Ava didn't like fighting with her, either. It felt wrong.
"... You hurt my feelings... Or whatever."
Ava winced and she looked away from Jules at the same time that JJ looked away from her. She knew that she had, but she didn't like... hearing it. She didn't like being reminded of her mistakes.
"Look," Jules continued. "I... know I'm not easy, okay?"
Yeah, that's kind of why Ava lov--
Liked.
That's why Ava liked her.
As a friend.
"I know you think I make decisions that's wrong for me and I like people that I shouldn't, and I'm like, a major stereotypical, inconsiderate and materialistic bitch and stuff. I know everyone says that and maybe they're not wrong, but..."
Ava winced again as Jules repeated back her cutting words.
"... You're not everyone to me."
Her heart was pounding in her chest again, and Ava was able to tear her eyes away from the road to look back over at Jules. She wasn't sure what to say, the words sticking to her tongue and not coming out as her lips parted and for a moment, she just studied the profile of her best friend. You know, the face of her best friend that she could easily draw from memory.
Not... in a creepy way.
"I'm so... so sorry, Jules," Ava mumbled. "I don't... I didn't mean what I said. You're not... you're not any of that. You're... like... everything. Perfect everything, and I don't... I don't know why I said that. I was just..."
Jealous.
"Angry, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I don't like fighting you, either, you're... like... more than my best friend. Like... everything to me and I'm so, so sorry about what I said."
Fuck.
Ava was speaking a little more than she felt like she fucking should've, but...
She couldn't stop the words once they'd started.
Jules was crying, and Ava felt panicked for a moment because, well, she wasn't the greatest at this whole comforting thing, and she also just... hated seeing tears fall down her friend's face. But then Jules leaned against her, wrapping her arms around Ava's waist and laying her head against her shoulder, and for a moment, everything felt okay. Ava wrapped an arm around Jules' shoulders, pulling her close and for a while, they just sat there in relative silence, and for Ava, everything in that moment felt right.
"... You really should've let me get a good punch in." Jules said with a soft laugh, and Ava's lips broke into a small smile and she let out a small laugh and gave a little nod of her head.
"I'm not perfect." She said, although her words were a bit muffled against Ava. The silence stretched out for a few more moments, and then Jules pulled away from her and Ava found them face-to-face again.
Her heart was thudding away in her chest.
Her cheeks were probably flushed a dark red, which she'd just sum up to being like phew it's hot out here or some other lame excuse if asked why.
But Ava didn't pull away. She was frozen still in Jules' gaze as her friend studied her friend. She let out a soft, awkward laugh.
She really wanted to lean in, close that small distance between them...
Ava's gaze kept faltering down to look at Jules' lips.
"Ava," Jules said, her brows furrowed.
Her gaze snapped back up to meet her eyes.
"Yeah?" She asked, swallowing the nervous lump in her throat.
Silence for a moment, just the sound of her heart beating in her throat, and the sound of their breathing.
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
Her lips broke into a smile, and she let out a laugh.
Ava loosened her grip on Jules and stood up before holding out a hand to help up the little brunette.
"Come on, you can puke on Javi's car and then we'll head home."
---------------------
A week later, and the whole foam party debacle still held too much of Ava's time. Like she found herself still thinking over that moment sitting out on the stairs, although for different reasons than feeling guilty over the words that she'd said to her best friend, it was for...
Well, nothing important.
“Is there a reason you’re setting this up in the living room?”
Alex's voice caused Ava to jump, and she slammed her head upwards into the table that held the television in their living room. She winced as she finished plugging in a cord and then crawled back out from underneath, sitting back on the carpet and rubbing at her head as she glared at her roommate.
"Bigger screen. Got an important tournament coming up," Ava lied because uhh... well, she still hadn't managed to replace the television in her room. She just kind of threw a blanket over it and pretended that it didn't exist, although she was getting annoyed with only being able to play game on her desktop.
“Have you seen my keys? I’m not really a fan of getting locked out tonight while you’re shooting and screaming a people.” Alex asked. She actually looked kind of pretty for once, and Ava was a little suspicious about why.
She had a feeling it had to do with fucking Naomi.
"I don't keep track of your shit," Ava replied, but after a moment of silence, she nodded towards the basket on the end table next to the couch. "Check the basket. Usually where I toss your keys and shit when I don't know where to put it." She explained because, okay, maybe she did know where Alex's stuff usually was.
“I’m going out with Simone, so I might not be home till late.”
Simone?
Interesting. Better than Naomi.
Unfortunately, Ava spoke too soon.
“I… uh, have a thing with Naomi too.”
Fucking great.
"That explains why you're getting all dolled up," Ava said with a little matter-of-fact nod of her head. "Date or...?"
mood
ehh
location
the apartment
outfit
pfft clothes
ehh
location
the apartment
outfit
pfft clothes
playing...
song title
song title
by artist
mentions
Jules
interactions
Alex
tags
Soap
Jules
interactions
Alex
tags
Soap
Winona
No, I don't have too many characters.
Zeph Evermore
He was pumped. Not nervous in the least bit about what his weird friend might have planned for them or in store. After all, they were already hanging out at his apartment, and as long as they didn't go anywhere, Zeph should be able to relax and just pick something dumb and simple for them to do.
Video games maybe.
Something that wasn't illegal, dangerous, or would cause more of a rift between himself and Stella because, well... it was probably no surprise, but Zeph didn't exactly take to having issues with his girlfriend super well. He didn't take to having issues with anyone very much, but there was something about having difficulties with Stella that just... it really bothered him. Maybe it was because she was his first real girlfriend and he didn't want to mess it up, or... who really knew.
The door was thrown up and there was a huge grin on Zeph's face... until he realized that Lin was dressed kind of, well, kind of like a toddler. Donald Duck underwear (not that he'd stared down at Lin's crotch for a really long time, it was just... it was just... the duck it was just--) and a bathrobe and before Zeph could make a comment, Lin had thrown himself at him and now was hugging him, and all Zeph could really do was awkwardly chuckle and hug him back.
Something that Zeph had definitely never wanted to do was stand here hugging his basically naked best friend, and he was glad that they were at least in the seclusion of Lin's home.
Err... well on the doorstep of Lin's home. At least somewhere that no one would see them.
Zeph kind of awkwardly patted Lin's back, not really wanting to fully embrace the boy because uhh... well he was naked and that was weird.
Finally, Lin pulled back and held Zeph by his shoulders, and Zeph just kind of grinned as a sigh of relief was released through his chest because thank god, at least he wasn't being smothered by the naked boy anymore.
“Sick, you’re here! I was starting to get scared, luhmao!”
"Of course I am," Zeph said with a laugh and then he glanced around to see if anyone was looking, before he grinned back down at Lin. "Think maybe we should head in and you can get dressed and then we can do... something?" Zeph asked, although he didn't really wait for an answer before he was ushering Lin inside and closing the door after him.
Public indecency crime avoided for the day.
"What do you wanna do?" He asked. "I was thinking maybe, ah... maybe... video... games...?" Each word was slow as he tried to gauge Lin's reaction. "Teach me Grand Theft Auto or whatever it is...?"
Maybe do some fake vandalism instead of real vandalism?
Video games maybe.
Something that wasn't illegal, dangerous, or would cause more of a rift between himself and Stella because, well... it was probably no surprise, but Zeph didn't exactly take to having issues with his girlfriend super well. He didn't take to having issues with anyone very much, but there was something about having difficulties with Stella that just... it really bothered him. Maybe it was because she was his first real girlfriend and he didn't want to mess it up, or... who really knew.
The door was thrown up and there was a huge grin on Zeph's face... until he realized that Lin was dressed kind of, well, kind of like a toddler. Donald Duck underwear (not that he'd stared down at Lin's crotch for a really long time, it was just... it was just... the duck it was just--) and a bathrobe and before Zeph could make a comment, Lin had thrown himself at him and now was hugging him, and all Zeph could really do was awkwardly chuckle and hug him back.
Something that Zeph had definitely never wanted to do was stand here hugging his basically naked best friend, and he was glad that they were at least in the seclusion of Lin's home.
Err... well on the doorstep of Lin's home. At least somewhere that no one would see them.
Zeph kind of awkwardly patted Lin's back, not really wanting to fully embrace the boy because uhh... well he was naked and that was weird.
Finally, Lin pulled back and held Zeph by his shoulders, and Zeph just kind of grinned as a sigh of relief was released through his chest because thank god, at least he wasn't being smothered by the naked boy anymore.
“Sick, you’re here! I was starting to get scared, luhmao!”
"Of course I am," Zeph said with a laugh and then he glanced around to see if anyone was looking, before he grinned back down at Lin. "Think maybe we should head in and you can get dressed and then we can do... something?" Zeph asked, although he didn't really wait for an answer before he was ushering Lin inside and closing the door after him.
Public indecency crime avoided for the day.
"What do you wanna do?" He asked. "I was thinking maybe, ah... maybe... video... games...?" Each word was slow as he tried to gauge Lin's reaction. "Teach me Grand Theft Auto or whatever it is...?"
Maybe do some fake vandalism instead of real vandalism?
mood
coolio
location
Arts Festival
outfit
no, he's not getting super fancy
coolio
location
Arts Festival
outfit
no, he's not getting super fancy
playing...
We Like It
We Like It
by Computer Games
mentions
N/A
interactions
Lin
tags
ditto
N/A
interactions
Lin
tags
ditto
Soap
faisons un vœu
Livanna Moore
"I'll hit that bong and break you off something."
@Livieeee is has updated her status to:
@Livieeee has interacted with:
Nickie
@Livieeee has mentioned:
Gen, Evie, Nate, Josie, Ronnie
@Livieeee has set her outfit to:
Liv-ish, with chains
@Livieeee has tagged:
ditto
@Livieeee has interacted with:
Nickie
@Livieeee has mentioned:
Gen, Evie, Nate, Josie, Ronnie
@Livieeee has set her outfit to:
Liv-ish, with chains
@Livieeee has tagged:
dittoLiv tried to listen.
Something about semester exams and keeping it in her pants made the girl smile, but she was kinda just returning Nickie’s smile. You know like, when a baby watched someone in awe and obviously had no idea what they were saying but was smiling anyway.
Yeah, Liv was that.
Look, she couldn’t help it.
She liked hanging out with Nickie. It was fun and so carefree. Like so carefree Liv didn’t even think about Gen once. Or Kayla.
Which… wasn’t right.
She should be thinking about Kayla. Kayla actually wanted something with her. At least, she thinks so anyway. The more Liv pretended like she was ready for a relationship and to be lovey dovey with someone new.
Maybe she wasn’t.
Or maybe…
She just wasn’t ready to do that with Kayla.
“What about you?”
“Huh?” Liv asked, allowing her brain to process whatever Nickie said. “Ohhhhhh. How am IIIIIIII?”
The girl shrugged.
How was she?
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
She was fineeeee.
Her ex girlfriend was dating Evie’s brother, she slept with Evie’s boyfriend who wasn’t really her boyfriend but he’s telling her to lie about it, despite the crippling guilt she was feeling about the whole thing and when Evie found out she would probably hate her guts like she hated Gen and they were the best of friends.
Oh right. Speaking of Gen, they’re going to be friends now.
Liv made plans with her ex-girlfriend to go to San Diego tomorrow instead of making plans with Kayla, which probably wasn’t very nice of her to do since they kissed last week.
The foam party was pretty cool though, hanging with Nickie most of the week had helped a lot.
Helped with… ?
Distractions. Mostly.
Having something to do instead of just getting high alone. Now, she was high but going to the mall. All’s well that ends well.
Or something?
Liv’s mind felt like a collision of explosions and it wasn’t because she took a pill or two. Or three. There was just so much going on in her head, it was so easy to jump and jump to something different every second.
Liv settled on a radio station and she turned the volume louder.
“90s R&B, are you kidding me?”
“Uhhhhh? No? It’s a fun song!” She said, gesturing towards the radio.
“Literally what? I believe I can fly, Liv? I believe I can touch the sky — oh my God!” Nickie giggled and Liv had turned the volume even louder as both girls bursted out into laughing fits.
See.
This was carefree.
She could have this type of stuff with Josie and Ronnie, but… Ronnie would talk a lot and Josie would just try to find the nearest party, which Liv wouldn’t complain about but…
It was nice to hang out with someone who didn’t just want to party.
She sounded like a hypocrite after taking Lulu secret clubbing the other day, but Nickie didn’t really party or see Liv as… someone to call whenever you want a good time. Y’know?
This was a good time, yeah but it wasn’t…
You know what she’s saying.
“Okay, okay, no, sorry, R. Kelly is not the vibe.”
“Aw, come on.”
Liv didn’t protest further as Nickie changed the station.
She thought her friend would play something a little upbeat, fun, twenty-first century maybe but when Frank Sinatra came on, Liv sagged in defeat, settling further into her seat as she stared out the window.
Eh, she didn’t wanna ruin her vibe. Let Nickie have her fun.
She had to admit that the lyrics were a little catchy.
A little while later, Nickie put the car in park and Liv had only just realized they were at the mall already.
Huh.
LA traffic had nothing on them.
“Okay, so, like, the plan is, like…”
Livanna unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out of the car, gently-- but not so gently slamming the car door and catching up with Nickie as they began to walk inside.
“There are a couple of shops inside, and, like…I mean, I figure that we won’t, like, be the only ones here from our school or whatever, so we’ll go to whichever is the least busy, y’know?” Liv nodded slowly, pursing her lips as her gaze scanned the few stores they passed by.
“Like…or, I mean, like, it’s really, like…I-d-k, like, let’s see where the day leads us or whatever.”
There was one of those places with those dry ice crunchy things that made it look like you were a dragon or something. Those were pretty cool. Although she could get the same effect with a bong and it was probably a little cheaper.
Not that money was an issue.
Liv hadn’t spent any of her like, allowance this week.
So, she was pretty set for shopping.
How much would today cost her? A thousand? Two?
Five.
Just to be safe.
It was definitely five.
“Spontaneity or some shit,”
At these words, an almost wolfish grin appeared onto her lips and she glanced over at Nickie. “Spontaneous is my middle name,” There were a lot of people in this mall. Jeeeeeeez.
“It’s actually Elizabeth, but… yanno, same thing.”
A few stall people had tried to get them to come by, and normally Liv would’ve went over but… she really didn’t feel like getting her hair curled by another vendor guy who pretended like they had a crush on her just so she could buy the $120 dollar curling iron that was really worth $15.
Yeah…
She totally had like eight of those already.
“Wanna get our ears pierced?” Liv asked, gesturing towards a nearby Claire’s, her gaze wandering before landing back on Nickie. “I’ll let you hold my hand if you get scared.” The brunette pouted, fluttering her eyelashes. She didn't even hear her reply as something else caught her attention, Liv's eyes went wide at the store behind Nickie.
Now...
Now she understood why people went dress shopping.
Window shopping.
Look at that beautiful, gorgeous, almost perfect sparkly dress. It was the perfect shade of perfect. The perfect length of length. The--
you get it.
It was mesmerizing. Even more perfect than her one celebrity crush.
Zoe Lockwood.
Oh, oh.
Or Beyonce.
Oh, or Chris Hemsworth.
Or... OR.
Okay, so she had a lot of celebrity crushes but Ryan Reynolds... his face was chiseled by god himself.
CleoBella Boutique.
What a unique name.
"Bella means beautiful in... I don't know, Korean or something. It's a sign. Let's go."
She really had to brush up on her Korean. Kinda felt pretty dumb not to--
Woah, look at that dress.
Okay, she couldn't wait any longer.
Liv didn’t even say another word, she grabbed Nickie by the hand and dragged her into the store, completely ignoring the sign on the window that said something about having an appointment only.
The brunette cautiously looked around for somebody.
“Uhhhmmmmmmm, helloooooooo? We wanna give you our money!” She called out, shrugging towards Nickie.
She waited for a few seconds and when nobody showed, Liv decided to take matters into her own hands and she hopped onto the little stage thing where the mannequins stood. Unzipping the dress, it fell to the floor.
“How naughty of you, flashing the whole mall. Tsk, tsk. Been there once or twice. It isn't all that." She shook her head in disappointment.
Girls these days. That one song was super right.
Couldn't trust any hoes.
Not even plastic ones.
Ha, she was so funny.
Liv lifted the dress and checked the tag. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.
It wasn’t her size.
Man, this is totally why people didn’t go dress shopping.
She guessed she could’ve bought it anyway and have a tailor, or maybe like Evie fix it but…
Ding, ding.
A little lightbulb flickered on top of her head.
No, she didn’t mean like--
The lightbulbs in this place actually flickered.
But anyway, she had an idea. Liv threw the dress towards Nickie, almost landing on top of her but instead near her on some clothing rack.
“Try it on. Come on, come on. If it doesn’t fit you either we’ll sue the place for emotional distress.”
Liv glanced around the amazingly empty store, shrugging.
“... Spontaneity.”
Last edited:
ditto
still kicking :)
victoria shantel sterling
She knew that it might be hard to believe, especially given everything that had occurred between the two at the Arts Fest, but very often, Victoria and Elizabeth Sterling did not get along. Shocker, right? You would have thought that it was just pure bliss between them, with how little they fought, you know…
Okay, yeah, if the sarcasm wasn’t palpable, surprise! Tori was being sarcastic.
There was always something for the two to fight about — typically, something that became a much bigger deal than it actually was. See: the week that they refused to talk to each other over a damn shirt. To be fair, it was one of Tori’s favorites, and Beth just snatched it for literally no reason — but she digressed.
See, even though they fought a lot, when it came down to it, Tori would’ve done anything for Beth. Not in the, like, soft way, because Tori wasn’t soft, but…look, having this much space between them over something so…serious, it felt like — you know, to have Beth so mad at her that she wouldn’t even really acknowledge her — hurt. Even if they fought so much, there was no denying that, thanks to Tori weaseling her way into Beth’s business at every given opportunity, Beth was an important part of her life, and having her not wanting anything to do with her…
Shit, you know? Just made her feel like shit. She felt guilty, and sad, and…and…
Just…yeah.
So, she kept staring pleadingly at her sister, incessantly begging her, even non-verbally, Just please, listen to me. Hear me out.
And then, Beth breathed out a heavy sigh and propped herself up on her hands, dropping her feet back onto the ground. “If it means no more justing Bieber, go right ahead.”
Tori’s face immediately relaxed with relief. She gave her a small smile. “Beth —“
“And I don’t want your dumb necklace,” Beth continued. “It’s so tacky. Like that’s totally something Grandma would wear, so…”
Tori scoffed softly at that, and gave a small eyeroll, but she resisted any commentary.
Beth shrugged. “And…I don’t…mind the sticky notes,” she mumbled, averting her eyes. Tori’s brows knit together. “I guess it was…kind of nice or whatever,” Beth finished.
Tori’s small smile pressed back onto her face. “Really?” she asked. “Did you like the ones I put on the inside of your binder?” she kidded lightly. She’d drawn sad faces on those, and she’d spent a good couple of minutes adding details to get it looking remotely like herself. She never claimed to be an artist, okay, but those were pretty damn good drawings.
Breathing out a small smile, Tori pursed her lips. Now that she had her sister’s attention…she had no fucking idea of how to start. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked over at the bowl of cookies that sat on her sister’s desk. “Uhm…” She paused a moment, and then she looked over at her sister again.
“Beth,” she said, “I…I’m really, really, really sorry.” Genuine regret rested in her gaze. “For, like…I’m…” She breathed out a small sigh. “I’m your big sister, you know. Like, you’re here so I can be a good role model to you and stuff like that…and I, like, pitched a baby rage bitch fit in public and embarrassed both of us, and now, like…I get why you hate me.” She picked at the bedspread, looking down at her manicured fingers as she toyed with a stitch. The guilt was gnawing its way back at her chest, and she breathed out a small, unsteady breath.
She looked back up at Beth again, trying to meet her eyes. “Sorry,” she repeated. “That was super shitty. I’m an…” She folded her hands in her lap, shaking her head shamefully. “I’m an awful sister, I—“ She lifted a hand to her head, closing her eyes. “It’s, like…Jeez Louise.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
Opening her eyes again, she reached out to put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Can you…will you forgive me? I just — I hate fighting. I really hate fighting, Lizzie.”
Okay, yeah, if the sarcasm wasn’t palpable, surprise! Tori was being sarcastic.
There was always something for the two to fight about — typically, something that became a much bigger deal than it actually was. See: the week that they refused to talk to each other over a damn shirt. To be fair, it was one of Tori’s favorites, and Beth just snatched it for literally no reason — but she digressed.
See, even though they fought a lot, when it came down to it, Tori would’ve done anything for Beth. Not in the, like, soft way, because Tori wasn’t soft, but…look, having this much space between them over something so…serious, it felt like — you know, to have Beth so mad at her that she wouldn’t even really acknowledge her — hurt. Even if they fought so much, there was no denying that, thanks to Tori weaseling her way into Beth’s business at every given opportunity, Beth was an important part of her life, and having her not wanting anything to do with her…
Shit, you know? Just made her feel like shit. She felt guilty, and sad, and…and…
Just…yeah.
So, she kept staring pleadingly at her sister, incessantly begging her, even non-verbally, Just please, listen to me. Hear me out.
And then, Beth breathed out a heavy sigh and propped herself up on her hands, dropping her feet back onto the ground. “If it means no more justing Bieber, go right ahead.”
Tori’s face immediately relaxed with relief. She gave her a small smile. “Beth —“
“And I don’t want your dumb necklace,” Beth continued. “It’s so tacky. Like that’s totally something Grandma would wear, so…”
Tori scoffed softly at that, and gave a small eyeroll, but she resisted any commentary.
Beth shrugged. “And…I don’t…mind the sticky notes,” she mumbled, averting her eyes. Tori’s brows knit together. “I guess it was…kind of nice or whatever,” Beth finished.
Tori’s small smile pressed back onto her face. “Really?” she asked. “Did you like the ones I put on the inside of your binder?” she kidded lightly. She’d drawn sad faces on those, and she’d spent a good couple of minutes adding details to get it looking remotely like herself. She never claimed to be an artist, okay, but those were pretty damn good drawings.
Breathing out a small smile, Tori pursed her lips. Now that she had her sister’s attention…she had no fucking idea of how to start. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked over at the bowl of cookies that sat on her sister’s desk. “Uhm…” She paused a moment, and then she looked over at her sister again.
“Beth,” she said, “I…I’m really, really, really sorry.” Genuine regret rested in her gaze. “For, like…I’m…” She breathed out a small sigh. “I’m your big sister, you know. Like, you’re here so I can be a good role model to you and stuff like that…and I, like, pitched a baby rage bitch fit in public and embarrassed both of us, and now, like…I get why you hate me.” She picked at the bedspread, looking down at her manicured fingers as she toyed with a stitch. The guilt was gnawing its way back at her chest, and she breathed out a small, unsteady breath.
She looked back up at Beth again, trying to meet her eyes. “Sorry,” she repeated. “That was super shitty. I’m an…” She folded her hands in her lap, shaking her head shamefully. “I’m an awful sister, I—“ She lifted a hand to her head, closing her eyes. “It’s, like…Jeez Louise.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
Opening her eyes again, she reached out to put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Can you…will you forgive me? I just — I hate fighting. I really hate fighting, Lizzie.”
mood
...
location
the apartment
outfit
something casual
...
location
the apartment
outfit
something casual
playing...
be nice to me
be nice to me
by the front bottoms
mentions
n/a
interactions
beth
tags
Winona
n/a
interactions
beth
tags
Winona
AkuTheWolfOkami
The Shape-shifting Master of Goatees and Darkness
Kaash
depression with a twist
Once the smoke started to fill their lungs, the awkwardness sort of died down as it became a decent smoke session. Though to be fair, it’s not as if Kayla would have let it be anything but a good session to her. Smoking was her escape, and she didn’t care who she did it with. It aided in her resisting the urge to grab prescription pills that weren’t prescribed to her.
She would be lying if her interaction with Liv’s ex wasn’t lingering on her mind and caused her to withdraw more into herself. She became unbearable in person when she got like this- not willing to to hangout or speak with anyone unless forced to. She had a song that described this exact mood that started off as a song in jest to relieve some stress and vent, but it was liked well enough by those around her that it made her album.
I be lonely so I know that you be lonely too
Chilling in my room
Tryna catch a groove
On my phone, leave me ’lone, not tryna be rude
She was geeked now, so no one was going to kill her vibe as she parted ways with Maggie to head to wardrobe near the stage she was set to perform with Newt at. She moved through to put her clothes on, a bit of a rockstar feel for her mixed genre song. She met up with Newt for a bit, spoke to him to calm his nerves, but moved on to the stage.
As she walked on to the stage she heard screams and applause as she looked at the people who packed the crowd. This was her second arts fest, and the crowd was definitely smaller the first time. That was before her number one hit single, that was before all the streams of her album, before the re-release that shot another one of her singles up the charts. There was a large amount of people in this crowd for her, and it was just so humbling to get this experience.
She grabbed her mic and looked over the people offering a large white smile from beneath the shades, “What’s up Hollywood Arts, what’s up Los Angeles, what’s up world?!” she started pulling the mic down from her mouth as she let the crowd applaud before, “Yeahhh let’s goo…I’m Kayla Weathers known to many by Kaash Paige, and behind me is Corey Newton and we came to give you a bit of a different show.”
She looked behind her to give Newt to key to start his drum playing and get in their first set of loops, the background beat kind of loops because he’d playing the main drum stuff in real time. Kayla put the mic down and moved to grab her electric guitar and played a couple of rifts and set the loops for them to play at certain intervals.
She moved back to her mic and looked at the crowd before she started to sing…
You're on my mind every single day
Every time I see you, yeah, it puts a smile up on my face
It makes my heart go
Whoa-whoa-whoa, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Those words were originally written about Liv and when she finished the word go she started to jump around and get the crowd into it. It was a new song and with Newt killing the drums and got the energy going just like she did. The crowd seemed to love it. She continued to sing…
Pop star lifestyle, I cannot take it (pop star, pop star)
Do you like drugs and will you take 'em? (Do you like drugs?)
Like a rockstar, Uber to my oasis (do you like drugs?)
Another few lines about Liv, though instead of directly being about her they were just inspired by her and Kayla’s own dealing with life in the spotlight. Newt got his solo and of course crushed it..
I'm trying to find the lost ones, lost ones, oh
So maybe I can love one, touch one's soul
She faded off with her eyes closed and close to the mic as the music eventually faded and she added another run or two to finish acapella before the crowd erupted.
With the reaction from the crowd, It was safe to say they killed it and she waved as she left the stage to head back stage as she ran into her own manager. It was her manager mainly since her cousin Yella sold off his ownership of her music in exchange for a percentage stake.
But he was Kayla’s manager/label rep long enough for her to be familiar with him and the look on his face was all dollar signs.
You have to put that song on your next album.
Well duh. That was the plan and as she was about to open her mouth to confirm that, but add the fact they needed to have Newt’s permission along with give him royalties. Before she could, her manager (Tony? Let’s go with Tony) was already past her and after Newt. Kayla would link up with Newt later and discuss the show but for now she had to get ready for her date and all that.
The date went well, at least from Kayla’s end, but she would be lying if she didn’t have some sort of sore feelings about her befriending Kodie. She may have told Liv it was okay, but to be honest. It wasn’t.
The following night she had a show needed to do and against her better judgment, she sent Kodie a text and invited her out and to come backstage. Kayla was spiteful and vindictive, if it was okay for not only Liv to be friends with her own ex, but to be friends with Kayla’s ex too? Fine. They weren’t official anyways, she’d play Kodie’s game and spite Liv. Who she was believing less and less cared about their uh.. situation and more about other things..probably Gen.
So that night she performed to a sold out crowd at one of the smaller venues, but it was packed to the brim with people some hoping to get a chance to hear another new song, but instead she performed her songs from her album that was already out.
She spent time with Kodie in the green room, smoking and against her better judgment even had a drink or two before her performance. Then she moved to the stage crossed, but still in the right mind to performed. She performed all of those songs with some about Kodie in some regard, but at some point her set she slowed it down with the song that was directly about Kodie and what they used to go through when they were together.
Tell you that I love you just to make you stay
You tell me I'm toxic but you love me that way, that way
And girl I be missing you but just not today
I really miss kissing you girl what's the play, whats the play?
That last line she sang looking right into Kodie’s eyes before she moved on to the next part of the song.
Hit you up on the late night just to chill
You say you poppin' Perkies, let's pop a pill
They say its for my anxiety, yeah
You are for my sobriety yeah, yeah
She went through the rest of the song, which seemed to cause Kodie to stir up and look off. There it was. That’s exactly what Kayla wanted. Kayla wanted her to suffer just like she had been trying to make her do. See, Kodie was chaotic, rude, disrespectful, but she cared way more about things than Kayla did. The words in the song that was directly about her was proof of that, and those same words were going to be her downfall.
I really hate to play this way
You know that my love is fake
But my intentions are real, but you never know what they is
You never know what they is
Telling you lies, li-li-li lies
Straight to your face
She smirked as she finished the song before directly switching the mood to her final song of the night, a more hype song to get the crowd going on and leaving on a high note. She was proud as she raised the mic, “Thank you Los Angeles, y’all one of my favorite places to perform.”
She moved backstage and was intercepted by who else but Kodie. She chuckled a bit as the girl before her rubbed her arm and looked down to the ground.
Kayla removed her hat and with a free-hand lifted the girl’s chin up and smiled, leaning forward and kissed her lips. She had no intentions on doing anything more with her that night, because she had accomplished what she invited her to do, but either way they still ended up back at Kayla’s place and smoked together. They stayed up to the sun crept over the horizon and barged it’s way into the loft, before they finally passed out watching Family Guy.
She hadn’t really said much to Kodie since that day, but she hadn’t heard any secondhand information about her either, so she figured that was a win.
At some point she shot a message to Liv to see if she was free to hangout on the weekend, and at some point she got a rejection and a promise for later. Her confidence was waning in whatever she and Liv had, and so much of that week she didn’t leave her room outside for school and basketball practice. Mainly just playing video games, sometimes with Ava online, and listening to lo-fi and smoking. One of her TVs was almost always on a sports game as it was the time of the year where almost all of the sports were going except baseball.
She was lying back on her bed tossing her ball in the air and catching it when her phone vibrated, causing her to be distracted and miss the ball as it bounced off her hand and ricocheted off her face.
Great. She had forgotten to put her phone on DND which meant it was her own fault she was distracted and let the ball hit her face.
She could only release a sigh grabbing her phone and looking at it to allow face id to unlock it and show her message previews. It was Newt asking if she wanted to hang out. She didn’t. Not with Newt (who she was still somewhat upset with), not with Liv (who she was upset with), not with Kodie (who she had never stopped being upset with), no one.
So she did the Kayla thing and tried to find an organic excuse not to go, but somehow …we will call it Newt having a high ability score in charisma, she was convinced to head out.
It couldn’t be so bad, right? It was Newt and despite her disdain for him in the current moment of time, he was still her best friend. It wasn’t like Ash or Liv was going to be there. So, she could deal with it.
So eventually when the time came, Kayla moved to her closet and looked over her options. It wasn’t like she needed to impress anybody, she was just going to spend time with her favorite Salamander. Perhaps gets a new watch and hat too.
She chose something simple to wear, but it was expensive, nonetheless. She went to the bathroom and did very light bit of makeup, mainly just foundation, concealer, and lip gloss. She presented masculine most of the time, so she wasn’t super into makeup, but of course she had her routine.
She slid the hat backwards over her head before taking a deep breath. She wasn’t ready to leave yet, she needed to finish one more task before her desertion of her home. She found a seat in front her home studio, reaching over to her rolling tray which was designed with the Sailor Senshi on it, which caused her to sigh a bit.
She ignored her sour feelings and took one of the cigars she had previously rolled and placed it to her lips. She let the lighter ignite in a short burst of flint and flame, before holding it in front of her cigar. She took a slow, deep inhale and let her eyes close. Only a few minutes would pass before she had downed most of it, checked her watch, then head down to the elevator to head down to the garage.
When she stepped out, she looked over to her two white vehicles and took a minute to ponder which she should take. She looked down to her hands and realized she didn’t have a choice because she only grabbed the keys for her 98 Toyota Supra.
She slowly moved to the two door sports car, opened it, and step in before closing the door behind her. When she inserted the key and turned it, the engine roared to life and there was a large growl as it ran hard while it was warming up. Kayla glanced at her phone to see if she had any missed texts, and when she was satisfied with not having any, she quickly clicked her seatbelt in, and hit the clutch and shifted into first gear before pulling out of the garage and zooming into the street.
Normally when she was high she drove slow, but today she had so much pent up frustration that she switched gears quickly, and weaved in and out of traffic. It wouldn’t take as long as it should have taken for her to reach the mall and find a parking spot. She stepped out slowly, stuffing her hands into her pockets with her keys and hitting the button that made the car go beep signaling that the alarm was set, not that the doors were locked. (She didn’t have those kinds of locks on this older car)
There was a moment she stopped and thought about turning around and going back home. There was something in stomach that churned as if her instinct was telling her this was a bad idea and that she should just go home and go back to sleep.
Problem was, she wasn’t a liar. She had already gone against her nature and lied to Liv about how she felt about her talking to Kodie, but she would handle that on her own. For now, she told Newt she’d come to the mall with him so she would do that.
Her feet carried her inside as she met up with Newt and greeted him in their usual manner, a smile on her face until they walked a bit and her mood switched completely. She hadn’t expected to see Ash nor did she have any plans on actually, purposely, or purposefully spend any time with her.
Hey, Kayla
Her sudden change in tone from Newt to her made her raise a brow for a split second, but with how Kayla had been treating Ash later it wasn’t surprising. It was similar to the awkwardness with she and Maggie because of similar situations, though the initial cause wasn’t remotely the same to her. Still..Kayla rose a hand with a peace sign before twisting her wrist to cause the golden watch to readjust on her wrist.
I didn't like umm... I didn't know you were, like... I didn't know you were umm... coming..
Yeah, same sentiment sister. She cut her eyes at Newt for a second and shook her head before closing her eyes.
Not that like... not that I don't want you here. Like I'm really excited to see you here. It's umm... it'll be really fun
Ah. The better West sibling surely was selling that notion. Kayla didn’t bother speaking at all, just nodded her head and offered a half-smile and pinched Newt’s side.
You know those infomercials where you’re minding your business and then all of the sudden you hear, ‘But wait, there’s more?” Yeah, that just happened to Kayla but in real life and it was about drive her insane. Why was uhhh what’s the girl name…Mikaela..right thanks Ash. These were three of the five sources of Kayla’s current headache and they all had decided to gather in the same place she was at.
What was Next? Liv was going to pop up doing hand stands with Kodie? Actually, that might have been interesting to see.
She snapped back to reality when she heard her name again..
oh, and he brought Kayla.
“Yeah, thanks for that…” she grumbled, her irritation about being an “oh” creeping out of her voice. She was going to kill Newt.x
♡coded by uxie♡
geminiy
v tired
Elias Johannes
@elithegreat has set their status to:
stressed? no, absolutely not, not worried of being murdered at all
@elithegreat has set their outfit to:
got some denim
@elithegreat has set their location to:
The Clairmont Home
@elithegreat has mentioned:
Chanel, Gen
@elithegreat has interacted with:
Cami
@elithegreat has tagged:
jasmyn
stressed? no, absolutely not, not worried of being murdered at all
@elithegreat has set their outfit to:
got some denim
@elithegreat has set their location to:
The Clairmont Home
@elithegreat has mentioned:
Chanel, Gen
@elithegreat has interacted with:
Cami
@elithegreat has tagged:
jasmyn
The first message that Elias received on his new phone was a link to Cami’s song, freshly mixed and edited by a long-time friend from back home in New York. Theoretically, it should have been a message on his old phone but JJ had made short work of it by whipping it at a wall, instantly shattering the crystal clear screen into smithereens. Elias wasn’t exactly sure what he or his poor, beloved phone did to JJ that was deserving of technological murder but there it had been, shattered on the floor and subsequently, there was Eli with a new phone in his hands and a new file in said phone that was sent off to Cami after a quick listen.
And before you get too ahead of yourself, no, Elias Johannes had no ulterior motive in helping her. There was no fake being nice in an attempt to get into Cami’s pants, no trying to be some cool guy he wasn’t, not him trying to dig up some dirt to use at a later date.
In short: no, Elias was absolutely in no way, shape, or form about to pull a Genevieve.
It was for that exact reason that Elias was wide-eyed, heart thumping terrified in the Twitter handle headlights of Chanel. Somewhere in her mind, Eli had been targeted as Enemy Number One for even so much as breathing near Cami and there was absolutely no way to change it. That fact alone should have caused Eli to rethink everything regarding Cami. No dances (not that he was planning on asking her), no flirting (not that he was flirting), no speaking (not that he really was saying much), no looking (not that he was looking).
For some strange reason, Elias did the exact opposite. He proceeded to talk to Cami, proceeded to ask her to the dance, proceeded to secure a date, proceeded to make plans to go shopping together for said dance...
Hold on.
He was actually going to the dance with Cami. That’s right, you heard it correctly. Elias Johannes was actually going to the dance with Camille Clairmont, the most lovely, amazing, talented, beautiful girl in the entirety of Hollywood Arts. His brain couldn’t wrap around the concept, even as he was pulling up in front of the Clairmont beach house.
Was he supposed to go up to the door? Oh gosh, what if her parents were home?
What if CHANEL was home?
Eli took a few deep breaths and turned off the engine, tapping his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel. He was going to go up to that door and get Cami even if that meant that he was going to get skewered and roasted by a concerned parent or even more concerned sister. So, reaching over to the passenger seat to grab the delicate bouquet of lilies and a second to breathe, Eli departed the car and made his way up the driveway.
As he raised a hand to knock on the front door, he looked down to the flowers tucked in his hand. What if this was too formal? What if he was taking it too far? What if Cami thought they were just friends and nothing else? Do friends bring friends flowers? Another deep breath. He could do this.
And then Cami opened the door and promptly reminded him that no, he absolutely could not.
“I, uh, Cami, uh…” Eli blinked, his eyes glancing over her face as if admiring some piece of art. Was she always this pretty or was it the beach lighting? And her eyes, damn, were her eyes always so blue? “You look, um, lovely. Really lovely.”
The flowers shifted slightly in the breeze, reminding them that he actually needed to give them to her.
“These are for you!” Eli blurted out rather obviously, graciously handing the flowers to Cami and trying his best to hide the flush across his dark cheeks when their fingers casually brushed together. “Are you, um, are you ready to go?”
And before you get too ahead of yourself, no, Elias Johannes had no ulterior motive in helping her. There was no fake being nice in an attempt to get into Cami’s pants, no trying to be some cool guy he wasn’t, not him trying to dig up some dirt to use at a later date.
In short: no, Elias was absolutely in no way, shape, or form about to pull a Genevieve.
It was for that exact reason that Elias was wide-eyed, heart thumping terrified in the Twitter handle headlights of Chanel. Somewhere in her mind, Eli had been targeted as Enemy Number One for even so much as breathing near Cami and there was absolutely no way to change it. That fact alone should have caused Eli to rethink everything regarding Cami. No dances (not that he was planning on asking her), no flirting (not that he was flirting), no speaking (not that he really was saying much), no looking (not that he was looking).
For some strange reason, Elias did the exact opposite. He proceeded to talk to Cami, proceeded to ask her to the dance, proceeded to secure a date, proceeded to make plans to go shopping together for said dance...
Hold on.
He was actually going to the dance with Cami. That’s right, you heard it correctly. Elias Johannes was actually going to the dance with Camille Clairmont, the most lovely, amazing, talented, beautiful girl in the entirety of Hollywood Arts. His brain couldn’t wrap around the concept, even as he was pulling up in front of the Clairmont beach house.
Was he supposed to go up to the door? Oh gosh, what if her parents were home?
What if CHANEL was home?
Eli took a few deep breaths and turned off the engine, tapping his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel. He was going to go up to that door and get Cami even if that meant that he was going to get skewered and roasted by a concerned parent or even more concerned sister. So, reaching over to the passenger seat to grab the delicate bouquet of lilies and a second to breathe, Eli departed the car and made his way up the driveway.
As he raised a hand to knock on the front door, he looked down to the flowers tucked in his hand. What if this was too formal? What if he was taking it too far? What if Cami thought they were just friends and nothing else? Do friends bring friends flowers? Another deep breath. He could do this.
And then Cami opened the door and promptly reminded him that no, he absolutely could not.
“I, uh, Cami, uh…” Eli blinked, his eyes glancing over her face as if admiring some piece of art. Was she always this pretty or was it the beach lighting? And her eyes, damn, were her eyes always so blue? “You look, um, lovely. Really lovely.”
The flowers shifted slightly in the breeze, reminding them that he actually needed to give them to her.
“These are for you!” Eli blurted out rather obviously, graciously handing the flowers to Cami and trying his best to hide the flush across his dark cheeks when their fingers casually brushed together. “Are you, um, are you ready to go?”
geminiy
v tired
Ezra Gray
@EZGoing has set their status to:
havin' a good time
@EZGoing has set their outfit to:
sun & sand
@EZGoing has set their location to:
the beach
@EZGoing has mentioned:
spencer
@EZGoing has interacted with:
auguste, landon, jace, dalton
@EZGoing has tagged:
qunqun
gh0stwriter
Winona
Xed
havin' a good time
@EZGoing has set their outfit to:
sun & sand
@EZGoing has set their location to:
the beach
@EZGoing has mentioned:
spencer
@EZGoing has interacted with:
auguste, landon, jace, dalton
@EZGoing has tagged:
qunqun
gh0stwriter
Winona
Xed
Maybe it was cocky of him to think in such a way, but Ezra was incredibly proud of himself that Auguste was able to open up and let loose with him. It wasn’t in the sense that Ezra felt solely responsible for the events of Art Fest’s evening, in fact he hardly took credit at all. He was simply happy that someone so walled off and closed up was able to let loose, bonus points considering that even after they had hooked up, everything seemed to go right back to normal.
No strings attached. No emotional connection beyond friendship. Exactly as Ezra Gray liked it.
It was unfortunate, however, that Auguste had declined to stay the night. Spencer was off doing who-knows-what (or, hopefully, who-knows-who) leaving Ezra entirely alone for the rest of the evening in an overly quiet apartment with nothing else left to do. For a moment, Ezra thought their friendship was over, another platonic relationship falling victim to his inability to keep it in his pants around hot people. Why else wouldn’t Auggie want to spend the rest of the evening with him?
But then Monday rolled around and things seemed fine. Then the following Saturday rolled around along with the surf trip with Auggie, Landon, Jace, and Dalton and everything had seemed to have returned entirely back to normal.
Pulling up beside the curb, and silently hoping that he had the right address, Ez lowered the music steadily thumping through the radio and reached a hand out to open the driver’s side door when the truck lurched and the tall man of the hour practically vaulted into the cab of his truck. With the door firmly closed behind him and a quick hello, Ezra let out a soft laugh and slowly closed his own door.
“Well good morning to you too.” Ezra spoke warmly, though the tension arose seemingly instantaneously in the truck.
No, maybe things weren’t completely back to normal.
“How have you been?” Auggie asked, but continued on before Ezra could even fit in an answer. “I have… been working on a new project. I’m pretty happy with how it’s turning out so far… I think it’s going to be… something good.”
Silence, the perfect time for Ezra to speak. Unfortunately for the both of them, Ezra had no clue what to say. Auguste was not taking the whole hookup and move-on thing well. It took everything in Ezra not to let out a heavy sigh at the awkward tension in the cab: nothing could ever be easy, could it? Nothing could just ever go according to plan.
“... I hope that surfing doesn’t require heights, that’s one of my actual fears. Landon says he brings alcohol and weed but…” Auggie trailed off as Ezra pulled away from the curb. “Yeah.”
A soft exhale fell from Ezra’s lips as he turned back onto the major street behind Auguste’s apartment complex. The turmoil of a now-messy friendship was foreign territory since Ezra usually ran at the first sign of trouble; not really a great point of conversation. But surfing? Ezra knew his fair share about surfing, that was a completely valid topic.
“You’ll be just fine, Auguste. It’s a little tricky at first but once you get the hang of it, I promise you’ll love it.” Ezra spoke calmly, fiddling with the radio dial to turn back up the music to a soft background melody. “I just wouldn’t recommend getting intoxicated at the first sign of trouble. Being drunk or high doesn’t exactly help with the whole balance thing.”
Another round of silent seconds. Ezra could have simply asked if everything was okay but instead, he simply turned the music up.
╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡
Finding a parking spot towards the outer edge of the beach, Ezra hopped out and quickly made his way around to the other side of the car to open the door for Auguste. Things may be awkward, but they were still friends. With a flip down of the bed of his truck, Ez pulled out two brightly coloured surfboards that had been pre-waxed and were surf ready. Handing the longer one to Auggie, Ezra pulled a light coloured button down out of his beach bag and replaced his tee shirt with it.
“You ready to go?” Ezra asked as he slung his bag over one shoulder and the surfboard under his empty arm. “I think I see the guys up ahead.”
Picking their way down through the dunes to the bottom of the beach, Ezra grinned widely as he approached the group. Even though it was early morning, the sun had already begun to heat up the beach, a breeze just strong enough to pull the waves from the once calm ocean. It was absolutely perfect weather for surfing.
“Good morning, ladies.” Ezra called out with a fake wolf-whistle. “Landon, so great to see you, and same to you Jace.” Ezra then turned to the darker haired boy, flipping his surfboard up onto his shoulder while his other hand extended in greeting. “I don’t think we’ve met before. You must be Dalton, yeah? Nice to meet you, I’m Ezra.”
Gently lodging his bag down on the ground, Ezra readjusted his board over his shoulder and his smile returned once more.
“So, are we going to hang out and have morning tea? Or should we teach these surf virgins how it’s done?”
No strings attached. No emotional connection beyond friendship. Exactly as Ezra Gray liked it.
It was unfortunate, however, that Auguste had declined to stay the night. Spencer was off doing who-knows-what (or, hopefully, who-knows-who) leaving Ezra entirely alone for the rest of the evening in an overly quiet apartment with nothing else left to do. For a moment, Ezra thought their friendship was over, another platonic relationship falling victim to his inability to keep it in his pants around hot people. Why else wouldn’t Auggie want to spend the rest of the evening with him?
But then Monday rolled around and things seemed fine. Then the following Saturday rolled around along with the surf trip with Auggie, Landon, Jace, and Dalton and everything had seemed to have returned entirely back to normal.
Pulling up beside the curb, and silently hoping that he had the right address, Ez lowered the music steadily thumping through the radio and reached a hand out to open the driver’s side door when the truck lurched and the tall man of the hour practically vaulted into the cab of his truck. With the door firmly closed behind him and a quick hello, Ezra let out a soft laugh and slowly closed his own door.
“Well good morning to you too.” Ezra spoke warmly, though the tension arose seemingly instantaneously in the truck.
No, maybe things weren’t completely back to normal.
“How have you been?” Auggie asked, but continued on before Ezra could even fit in an answer. “I have… been working on a new project. I’m pretty happy with how it’s turning out so far… I think it’s going to be… something good.”
Silence, the perfect time for Ezra to speak. Unfortunately for the both of them, Ezra had no clue what to say. Auguste was not taking the whole hookup and move-on thing well. It took everything in Ezra not to let out a heavy sigh at the awkward tension in the cab: nothing could ever be easy, could it? Nothing could just ever go according to plan.
“... I hope that surfing doesn’t require heights, that’s one of my actual fears. Landon says he brings alcohol and weed but…” Auggie trailed off as Ezra pulled away from the curb. “Yeah.”
A soft exhale fell from Ezra’s lips as he turned back onto the major street behind Auguste’s apartment complex. The turmoil of a now-messy friendship was foreign territory since Ezra usually ran at the first sign of trouble; not really a great point of conversation. But surfing? Ezra knew his fair share about surfing, that was a completely valid topic.
“You’ll be just fine, Auguste. It’s a little tricky at first but once you get the hang of it, I promise you’ll love it.” Ezra spoke calmly, fiddling with the radio dial to turn back up the music to a soft background melody. “I just wouldn’t recommend getting intoxicated at the first sign of trouble. Being drunk or high doesn’t exactly help with the whole balance thing.”
Another round of silent seconds. Ezra could have simply asked if everything was okay but instead, he simply turned the music up.
╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡
Finding a parking spot towards the outer edge of the beach, Ezra hopped out and quickly made his way around to the other side of the car to open the door for Auguste. Things may be awkward, but they were still friends. With a flip down of the bed of his truck, Ez pulled out two brightly coloured surfboards that had been pre-waxed and were surf ready. Handing the longer one to Auggie, Ezra pulled a light coloured button down out of his beach bag and replaced his tee shirt with it.
“You ready to go?” Ezra asked as he slung his bag over one shoulder and the surfboard under his empty arm. “I think I see the guys up ahead.”
Picking their way down through the dunes to the bottom of the beach, Ezra grinned widely as he approached the group. Even though it was early morning, the sun had already begun to heat up the beach, a breeze just strong enough to pull the waves from the once calm ocean. It was absolutely perfect weather for surfing.
“Good morning, ladies.” Ezra called out with a fake wolf-whistle. “Landon, so great to see you, and same to you Jace.” Ezra then turned to the darker haired boy, flipping his surfboard up onto his shoulder while his other hand extended in greeting. “I don’t think we’ve met before. You must be Dalton, yeah? Nice to meet you, I’m Ezra.”
Gently lodging his bag down on the ground, Ezra readjusted his board over his shoulder and his smile returned once more.
“So, are we going to hang out and have morning tea? Or should we teach these surf virgins how it’s done?”
geminiy
v tired
Kian Phelan
@lockandkian has set their status to:
Oh shit
@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
frog hat baybeee
@lockandkian has set their location to:
His apartment
@lockandkian has mentioned:
Damien, Javi, Lucky
@lockandkian has interacted with:
Felix
@lockandkian has tagged:
ditto
Oh shit
@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
frog hat baybeee
@lockandkian has set their location to:
His apartment
@lockandkian has mentioned:
Damien, Javi, Lucky
@lockandkian has interacted with:
Felix
@lockandkian has tagged:
ditto
Dude, Jet Black Neon’s very first public performance? Absolutely dope, bro. The whole set had gone off without a hitch, sans the whole ‘Javi-wasn’t-supposed-to-be-there’ thing (minor slip up, but they ended up being fine). People had been screaming and cheering and vibing to their new music, taking sick shots for Instagram and getting them all popular online and stuff. A total rockstar’s dream!
And don’t even get him started on the killer after-foam-party! At first, Kian had been a little apprehensive to the idea of filling their entire apartment with multicoloured foam, likely for a good reason since they were finding that stuff everywhere for days, but it had totally been worth it. People had a fuckin’ blast dancing amongst the globs of foam (that maybe got a bit too thick) to really good music (that maybe got a bit too loud). Sometime in the night, Kian made deals with some random dude who he didn’t recognize to let him pass out in his bed for some pills.
After that? Well, Kian wasn’t sure what happened, but it was surely fucking fun.
Maybe taking those pills broke that little sobriety streak that Kian was patting himself on the back for, but it still wasn’t a problem like Damien was making it out to be. It wasn’t like he was using every single day and what he was using wasn’t even that bad. He was just going through a rough time and he needed some way to relax, no big deal.
Except for all the times when it was, in fact, a big deal. Take Thursday night for example. The week after Art Fest had been stressful to say the least. There was big assignment after big assignment after massive frickin’ tests, not to mention the inability to sleep all topped off with a nice little cherry of complete creative block. So what if he took something to help him relax? It wasn’t a big deal at all, that was just a simple little thing. Really, he was taking care of himself… Except for the fact that he took the wrong drug and ended up being up all night writing nonsense in his lyric book.
The bright side? Kian wrote an amazing new song that Lucky and Javi enjoyed.
The down side? He stayed awake so long that he missed school on Friday from the buzz and passed out cold on the living room couch around 2pm wearing nothing but a frog hat (which he wasn’t entirely sure of it’s origins), a yellow tee shirt, and his boxers.
Neither one of his roommates had woken him up, likely because they knew Kian had nowhere to be. The door opening must have been someone leaving for something, both Lucky and Javi had far more interesting lives than his own. So naturally, Kian wasn’t concerned and tuned the rest of the world out. It wasn’t until there were hands gripping his ankles and pulling him clean off the sanctuary of the couch.
So naturally, Kian started screeching like a banshee. Full on flailing limbs, high pitched wailing, scrambling to get to his feet once his poor butt hit the floor.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?” He screamed, grabbing fistfuls of pillows and whipping them at the intruder. That was surely gonna give him enough of a window of opportunity to escape. “GET OUT I HAVE A-”
What did he have? He had a guitar, an amp, a half-full box of Cheerios, and…
“STAND BACK, I’VE GOT STICKY NOTES!” Kian yelled as he lunged towards the coffee table, hands gripping onto the packet of square yellow paper. Ripping them off one by one, he crushed the papers in his fist and began whipping them at the blond in front of him…
Blond guy.
Oh shit, he’d know those baby blues anywhere!
“Oh…” Kian mumbled, another round ball of sticky note in his palm ready for launching. “Oh hey Felix! What are you doin’ here, buddy?”
Placing the now thinned out pad of paper back down onto the coffee table, Kian fixed the frog hat onto his head and plopped down onto the sofa. It was starting to occur to him that the pounding in his head wasn’t from the panic of being broken into but from the strange sleep schedule and the panic and the clear lack of water and proper nutrition for days.
“Ugh…” He groaned, reaching a hand up to rub his temples. “Dude what are you even doing here? Why are you here? Why does my head hurt so bad?”
And don’t even get him started on the killer after-foam-party! At first, Kian had been a little apprehensive to the idea of filling their entire apartment with multicoloured foam, likely for a good reason since they were finding that stuff everywhere for days, but it had totally been worth it. People had a fuckin’ blast dancing amongst the globs of foam (that maybe got a bit too thick) to really good music (that maybe got a bit too loud). Sometime in the night, Kian made deals with some random dude who he didn’t recognize to let him pass out in his bed for some pills.
After that? Well, Kian wasn’t sure what happened, but it was surely fucking fun.
Maybe taking those pills broke that little sobriety streak that Kian was patting himself on the back for, but it still wasn’t a problem like Damien was making it out to be. It wasn’t like he was using every single day and what he was using wasn’t even that bad. He was just going through a rough time and he needed some way to relax, no big deal.
Except for all the times when it was, in fact, a big deal. Take Thursday night for example. The week after Art Fest had been stressful to say the least. There was big assignment after big assignment after massive frickin’ tests, not to mention the inability to sleep all topped off with a nice little cherry of complete creative block. So what if he took something to help him relax? It wasn’t a big deal at all, that was just a simple little thing. Really, he was taking care of himself… Except for the fact that he took the wrong drug and ended up being up all night writing nonsense in his lyric book.
The bright side? Kian wrote an amazing new song that Lucky and Javi enjoyed.
The down side? He stayed awake so long that he missed school on Friday from the buzz and passed out cold on the living room couch around 2pm wearing nothing but a frog hat (which he wasn’t entirely sure of it’s origins), a yellow tee shirt, and his boxers.
Neither one of his roommates had woken him up, likely because they knew Kian had nowhere to be. The door opening must have been someone leaving for something, both Lucky and Javi had far more interesting lives than his own. So naturally, Kian wasn’t concerned and tuned the rest of the world out. It wasn’t until there were hands gripping his ankles and pulling him clean off the sanctuary of the couch.
So naturally, Kian started screeching like a banshee. Full on flailing limbs, high pitched wailing, scrambling to get to his feet once his poor butt hit the floor.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?” He screamed, grabbing fistfuls of pillows and whipping them at the intruder. That was surely gonna give him enough of a window of opportunity to escape. “GET OUT I HAVE A-”
What did he have? He had a guitar, an amp, a half-full box of Cheerios, and…
“STAND BACK, I’VE GOT STICKY NOTES!” Kian yelled as he lunged towards the coffee table, hands gripping onto the packet of square yellow paper. Ripping them off one by one, he crushed the papers in his fist and began whipping them at the blond in front of him…
Blond guy.
Oh shit, he’d know those baby blues anywhere!
“Oh…” Kian mumbled, another round ball of sticky note in his palm ready for launching. “Oh hey Felix! What are you doin’ here, buddy?”
Placing the now thinned out pad of paper back down onto the coffee table, Kian fixed the frog hat onto his head and plopped down onto the sofa. It was starting to occur to him that the pounding in his head wasn’t from the panic of being broken into but from the strange sleep schedule and the panic and the clear lack of water and proper nutrition for days.
“Ugh…” He groaned, reaching a hand up to rub his temples. “Dude what are you even doing here? Why are you here? Why does my head hurt so bad?”
Soap
faisons un vœu
Juliette Jameson
"Don't trust blondes.”
@QueenJules has set their status to:
Boney bitches just aren't it. #SorryNotSorry
@QueenJules has set their outfit to:
Shocked I look hot? KT-Original.
@QueenJules has interacted with:
Maggie
@QueenJules has mentioned:
Maddie, Ava, Ronnie, Josie, Dorian, Gen, Nickie.
@QueenJules has tagged:
Kitsune2202
Boney bitches just aren't it. #SorryNotSorry
@QueenJules has set their outfit to:
Shocked I look hot? KT-Original.
@QueenJules has interacted with:
Maggie
@QueenJules has mentioned:
Maddie, Ava, Ronnie, Josie, Dorian, Gen, Nickie.
@QueenJules has tagged:
Kitsune2202Why did some people persist in being her friend? JJ didn’t want friends.
So many people kept asking the brunette ‘how do you even have friends?’
How?
They won’t leave me the fuck alone.
That's how.
Although, sometimes…
Sometimes.
She didn’t mind the company.
Jules hardly even listened to Eli.
Something about how she was so amazing, or… perfect, and how she didn’t need anyone but she should let them be there for her if they wanted to.
She didn’t even know what he was saying.
Like she said, she wasn’t even listening.
She was just thinking.
Her mind felt like an endless void of problems and insecurities and the only thing she focused on was… how much she didn’t want to think about it anymore. Jules wiped her tears and said her goodbyes to Eli, already on her phone and making plans with… anyone and everyone.
Except her boyfriend.
…
Shut up.
She had her reasons.
The whole… joy ride thing was kind of fun.
Jules wasn’t one for grand theft auto or whatever, but if they got caught she’d just blame it on Damien. They got ice cream and usually ice cream fixed all of Juliette’s problems but not tonight.
Rocky Road couldn’t fix all the shit she was feeling.
Damien didn’t speak to her like he promised and Juliette enjoyed her ice cream.
At least, to the best of her ability.
“Hey, you have something…” Maggie spoke with a napkin in hand.
Juliette’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before she put two and two together, leaning away from Maggie as if she was the devil herself and snatching the napkin from her.
“I got it.”
She was not about to let that happen. Some overly cheesy lesbianic shit was not about to go down.
"So, you think I'm rom com material now too, aye?"
Maggie’s words earned a glare from JJ, eating another spoonful of ice cream to suppress her amused smile, she spoke with her mouth full.
“Fuck off.”
__
A joyride, ice cream, insistent bickering with Damien, Maggie, and Mikaela, five or so drinks later.
Here JJ was.
A drink in hand, swaying slightly against the force of her own heels and a smile on her face.
A forced smile of course.
And it faded as soon as Damien approached, Juliette’s gaze searched everywhere for literally anyone to come and save her from this conversation.
“Having fun?” He asked.
Juliette downed the rest of whatever alcohol was in one of those cliche solo cups.
“I’m trying to.”
JJ took his own drink, pouring the rest in her cup and taking a sip.
Ew. What the fuck was this?
“You know what’s funny?”
“What’s—“
Hic.
“funny?”
The brunette swirled the drink in her cup, clearly disinterested in their conversation.
“I fucking won.”
Juliette glanced up with a look that said ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
“Because, your dumbass boyfriend's not here...”
And?
“And I'm taking you home. So I fucking won.”
He won?
He won?!
Oh no, no, no.
“I’m not fucking here with you, I’m—“
“You’re talking to me,”
Damien gestured towards the kitchen.
“You’re here with me— clearly you kind of fucking want something to happen.” Damien shifted his body and he probably didn’t mean to lean in closer to her, but Juliette pushed him roughly to prevent it.
“The onlyyyy fucking thing that’s happening between us tonight is—“
“Fucking and us in the same sentence? I fucking knew you wanted me.”
JJ didn’t even bother to reply. Instead she attempted to swing at Damien.
Yup.
Whole fist, cup and everything. She missed, of course.
Damien made distance and Juliette only followed, grabbing random things off the counter to throw it at him.
Paper cups, roll of napkins, whatever she could get her hands on.
“You motherf—“
Jules went to throw another punch and suddenly she was grabbed from behind.
It didn’t take her long to realize who it was, especially after they spoke.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ava hissed through gritted teeth as she tugged JJ towards the front door.
“Get off of me!” She said, trying to rip free from Ava’s grasp.
Apparently, JJ was pretty determined even while drunk, so she got free of her best friend’s grasp and picked up—
A knife.
“Oh fuck no,” Ava ripped the knife from her hands— safely, and before Juliette could pounce and attack Damien, she was grabbed by the waist and being pulled away.
“Fucking—“
“You’re so fucking lucky— Let me go, Ava. Let. Me. Go.” She said through gritted teeth.
“No,” Ava hissed.
Fine.
Adapt and overcome or whatever the fuck right?
As she was being dragged, Jules struggled against Ava as she reached for her heel, but before she could throw it— Ava must’ve slipped because they both went down and JJ ended up on top of Ava, face-to-face and she immediately had gotten uneasy.
Whether it'd been because of their fight tonight or... there was nothing else it really could be.
It just felt...
Jules was entirely too drunk.
That's all.
—
Outside the apartment, on the concrete steps a brunette sat, covered in foam, minus a heel and on the verge of tears.
She picked at her manicure, unable to look her best friend in the eye.
“What are you even doing here? I told you not to come.” Her voice was stern, as stern as she could make it, anyway. She didn't have much energy to be angry anymore.
At least, she didn't have the energy to pretend to be.
JJ disinvited Ava as soon as the found out the redhead’s intentions was to make sure she didn’t make any more ‘mistakes.’
What did that even mean? Was it because of the thing on stage? God, she hated her so much. How could Jules even call Ava her best friend at that point?
"I ah... I dunno. Just wanted to make sure you had someone here,"
Her eyebrows furrowed, but she didn't say anything.
"I knew Dorian wasn't coming, and umm... I don't really trust any of these other fuckers."
Ava didn't even trust JJ.
Nobody really trusted JJ.
Not Ash, not Maddie, Nickie was a different story, but given the chance Nickie would definitely withhold whatever truth she could from Juliette.
The point here being, It'd be so much easier if she could just say fuck it and be completely done with Ava.
"Just wanted to make sure you were safe. I guess."
But she couldn't be just done.
Ava always reminded her why she couldn't be.
Jules glanced up at her, hesitating.
"... I don't really like fighting with you."
It's true. She didn't.
As difficult, stubborn, and bitchy as JJ could be... she didn't want to be that with her.
Jules didn't have to be that person with her, if that made any sense.
She was afraid of... being honest.
Maybe it wasn't that nobody really trusted JJ. Maybe It was that JJ didn't trust anybody.
Because when she did...
"... You hurt my feelings.”
God, she sounded so fucking pathetic.
She was sixteen years old. She wasn't six.
Jules sounded like a mixture of Veronica Crosby and Nickie. Although the only emotion Ronnie had was probably being horny 24/7, the girl was as naive and emotional as her cousin.
"... Or whatever."
She couldn't explain it. Because if Jules probably explained it, she'd probably cry. Because she was drunk and stupid.
...
She was stupid anyway.
Who's she kidding?
"Look,"
Jules averted her gaze from Ava, focusing on the foam on the street that was slowly bouncing away from the slight wind.
"I... know I'm not easy, okay?"
Honesty.
It was a mood killer.
"I know you think I make decisions that's wrong for me and I like people that I shouldn't, and I'm like, a major stereotypical, inconsiderate and materialistic bitch and stuff. I know everyone says that and maybe they're not wrong, but..."
#FuckFeelings.
"... You're not everyone to me."
Her heart skipped a few beats in anticipation of what she'd say.
She was nervous.
Incredibly nervous.
Jules was never like this, so... open.
Vulnerable.
"I'm so... so sorry, Jules," Ava spoke and Jules's attention instantly snapped to her.
She didn't really want an apology.
As dumb as it sounded... she just wanted...
"I don't... I didn't mean what I said. You're not... you're not any of that."
Reassurance.
Reassurance that she wasn't any of those things.
Reassurance that she didn't think that.
Out of her parents, her friends... even her boyfriend, the only person's opinion, at least the only one that really stuck was always Ava's.
Whether it was with crushes, decisions, outfit choice, whatever it was, it always lingered with Juliette longer than everyone else's.
Jules was always so worried about what Ava thought about her. She didn't want to... disappoint her like she'd done everyone else, maybe?
To be incredibly honest, Juliette didn't even know why.
"You're... like... everything. Perfect everything,"
She wanted to laugh at that.
'Perfect.'
But Jules didn't laugh. Instead she turned her head away from Ava as tears started to fall.
The video, all those stupid comments, the whole thing with Eli. The routine that she ruined.
Jesus, she was sitting here with one fucking shoe.
She was so far from perfect.
"and I don't... I don't know why I said that. I was just... angry, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I don't like fighting you, either, you're... like... more than my best friend. Like... everything to me and I'm so, so sorry about what I said."
But when she said it... Jules almost believed it.
'You're everything to me.'
Juliette was practically convinced she'd never hear those words out of anyone else's mouth.
Jules looked up at her, not caring about what she looked like despite her tears-- which, was a really big thing for her.
She hated when anyone saw her cry.
Anyone.
But like she said earlier, Ava wasn't just anyone.
Her eyes softened and that alone was good enough.
Jules didn't think she needed to say anything.
The brunette leaned over and wrapped her hands around Ava's waist, laying her head on her shoulder.
They sat there for a few seconds in silence before she spoke.
"... You really should've let me get a good punch in." Her own words released a small laugh.
You'd think Ava would smell terrible because of the million times Jules said that Ava never showered, but apparently she did once in a while.
She smelled like something. Probably something scratchy or something. Sandalwood? Who knew. Jules didn't do scents besides Vanilla.
Jules took a deep breath through her nose. "I'm not perfect." She said, her words muffled against Ava. She laid there for another moment in comfort before she pulled away, face-to-face with her best friend for the second time tonight.
She studied her features.
Her red hair, her light eyes, her button nose.
The way her—
Suddenly, her stomach started to do flips.
"Ava," Jules breathed, her brows furrowed.
"Yeah?" Ava asked,
…
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
Ava’s lips broke into a smile and Jules returned it ever-so-weakly.
"Come on, you can puke on Javi's car and then we'll head home."
“When did you start having good ideas?”
--
The metal hooks of the hangers clanged against each other as they were forcibly pushed to the other side of the clothing rack.
Purple?
Ew.
Black? Too depressing.
Green? As if she wanted to go as a booger or the color of Nickie’s vomit.
Orange? Definitely not. Who the hell can pull off orange to a school dance?
She probably could if she really tried but fuck that. She isn’t gonna look like a bottle of SunnyD.
JJ sighed, finding the choices super distasteful. She wasn’t shopping for like a 7th grade spring formal. This was like, serious. The winter ball was one of the dances before prom. It was definitely going to be the highlight of her month.
Her week was entirely uneventful.
Like, literally.
She didn’t really do anything besides hang out with Ava, mostly. They were in a really good place now, like, it almost seemed healthy. Like a normal best friend relationship where you don’t fight 24/7.
But anyway, she had like...
School.
Practice.
Shopping.
Y'know, the usual.
#IgnoringHerBoyfriendBecauseHeWasDefinitelyPlanningOnBreakingUpWithHer?
Yeah, that too.
Since the video came out, Juliette has been avoiding Dorian since it happened. So far? It’s working but it’s causing problems in her relationship.
lol.
Who knew that would happen?
Look, she wasn’t sure what she was doing. She was just…
Avoiding being single.
She liked Dorian.
Really, really, liked.
Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to just pretend like everything is fucking okay, but once she actually gives into reality? Everything’s gonna come crashing down quicker than Josie’s solo routine.
The night before was particularly hard since y’know, she had that stupid sleepover with Ash and Maddie, which wasn’t all bad. It was kind of enjoyable.
The only con besides Maddie being fucking annoying?
It was held at Maddie’s house.
Obvi, where her boyfriend lives too.
JJ would’ve left in the middle of the night and gone to his room…. but she kinda stared at the ceiling until daybreak debating whether or not to go. Being a girlfriend was hard when you were afraid of being broken up with.
Ash was being a bitch and she ditched a few minutes earlier, why the hell did she even invite her if she was going to go off with some stupid boy?
Maddie had a dumb shoot or something that her mother almost had an aneurysm about, so she had to leave too.
Now she was stuck fucking dress shopping alone.
This is why JJ never did friends.
Or…
Admit to them.
Once you admitted to having friends, they feel like you fucking owe them something.
Like, sticking up for someone else in a twitter fight.
Okay, yeah. She probably should’ve taken Ash’s side.
But the fuck is she supposed to do when she was literally slut shaming. At least if she actually shamed a real slut. Maybe JJ would’ve joined in.
But Maggie wasn’t even a real slut. She was just weird.
Ash was weird.
Like, why did she even hate Maggie in the first place?
“I don’t get it. None of the toothpicks went shopping?” JJ said out loud, pushing the triple, double, and zeros to the side.
No, sorry, you aren't gonna find out JJ’s size.
It isn’t a size one though.
“Not a two either.”
She was never really insecure about her weight. JJ was never as skinny as Maddie is.
Boney-bitch.
But she was never as chubby as Ash used to be.
Chubby bitch.
Well, mostly when they were kids but…
Like, she couldn’t say to Ash that she had… ‘ a lot of meat on her bones.’ like how she says that Maddie is practically a skeleton. Okay, yeah, it was still shitty to say for like. Weight reasons or something?
Like, who really knows if Maddie is incredibly insecure about her ugly perfect fucking body, but… if it bothered her, she’d tell her because she’s annoying and emotional like that.
The point being, maybe JJ was a terrible person or whatever. Say whatever the fuck you want.
She’d skinny shame.
She wouldn’t be like those cliche bitches who say like, ‘omg eat a burger.’
Not if like, you can see someone’s ribs skinny because that’s just so fucking gross. And unhealthy? She guesses? But let’s be honest, she probably doesn’t care about some random whore’s health.
But if a bitch like Maddie sat next to her, and her elbow prodded into her fucking stomach as sharp as a kitchen knife, then… fucking yeah she’d say something.
But she wouldn’t fat shame. That’s just sad.
Okay, well, she wouldn’t do it to like… people she knew. Or like, not despised? If Gen was seven hundred pounds, she wouldn’t care and would probably call her a whale.
Probably, anyway.
“Hey, Princess.”
A voice from behind her startled the brunette and JJ involuntarily flinched, a scowl appeared barely seconds after. She didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
JJ turned her head, continuing to shift through the clothing rack that proved to give her absolutely nothing before she moved to the one beside Maggie.
“Now you can’t even announce yourself normally? I know I’m hot or whatever? But the whole stalker thing isn’t a good look on you.”
Blue eyes traveled down to Maggie's outfit and back to her face, giving her a once over.
"And neither is that outfit, so."
gh0stwriter
Junior Member
Lucky DuBois
The rest of the Arts Festival was amazing. He’d gotten Amy to the stage on time and got to watch her perform. She was amazing and while the music video was great…nothing compared to watching her live. And then…Jet Black Neon…his band made their debut.
It was a fucking riot! He’d never been so pumped after a show. The crowd loved it and he knew that they had something special. That he, Javi and Kian…despite being three very different individuals had struck gold. And for like the first time, he felt like he was definitely gonna make it.
Between Ash asking him to record Drowning and Amy possibly recording a song for his solo stuff and the band…one of them had to stick, right?
He deserved to celebrate…and the best way to celebrate was to get drunk and party…at least that’s what Josie had always told him. He and the guys decided to throw a foam party and it was…a blast. Shots with Ki and Javi. Mags trying to get him to dance…which thankfully never happened. More shots and random people he didn’t remember the next day.
And the evening wouldn’t be complete without a bottle of vodka and everyone’s favorite disaster blonde. Thankfully, things had gotten back to normal between them. No prolonged eye contact. No touching. Other than Ash reminding him…or herself that they were just friends about a dozen times, it was fun. It felt like it always had. Easy.
Then there were more shots with Maggie and they ended up in his bedroom and there was kissing and the removal of the little clothing they had left. He had thought it would be awkward the next morning when they woke up together, but it wasn’t. He’d never really hooked up with those he considered friends. Figured it’d get messy…complicated, but Mags was just like him. They didn’t date. They didn’t like to complicate their life and they were able to move past it like everything was the same.
He and Mags cleaned up the apartment. Things had changed, but it wasn’t a bad change. For once, one of Lucky’s choices hadn’t blown up in his face, so he was calling it a win. He needed a win if he was going to endure the next part of his day.
Ash came by to help him dress up for the awkward family dinner she had invited him to. He didn’t know why he said yes to her. He knew it would only cause more problems, but she had asked and her mom would be there and he figured she’d need all the help she could get. And maybe he wanted to stick it to Elise and his aunt. Show them that they hadn’t gotten to him and maybe Ash was doing the same. And that made him happier than it should seeing her actually stand up for herself for once.
Their arrival didn’t go well. Angie knew exactly who he was the minute he and Ash walked through the door. Her and Elise’s face made it all worth it. Worth whatever hell he was about to go through. And it was. Hell, that is. Stuck at the end of the table sitting across from Trevor…who Maggie of all people invited. He was pissed. Ash was tense and spewing insults back and forth with Dorian between not so subtle digs at him from the other side of the table. The JJ pulled Maddie and Ash away and he was alone. He had Dorian, but he was already exhausted from defending him all night. The small conversation between he and Ash’s dad about baseball was cut short due to Bitchlise’s interference.
Eight minutes.
Eight minutes and twenty-eight seconds to be exact.
That was how long Ash, Maddie and the she-devil had been gone. They hadn’t missed much. Awkward silence. Trevor staring down at a full plate of food. Angie and Elise bonding over what a piece of trash Lucky was. It was great. Highly recommended.
Nine minutes and ten seconds.
Ash returned and his grip on the table eased. He was relieved, because at least she could provide a distraction…or at least piss Elise off knowing that she had invited him, but she was upset and his previous concerns fell away. She’d asked him to step outside and get some air. Single-handedly one of the best ideas anyone had come up with. Ever. Of course he jumped at the chance to get out of that room.
Literally. He hopped out of his seat like someone had set in on fire. He knew how it would look. How it would always look when he and Ash were together, but he didn’t care. He followed her through the house…the mansion and his eyes wide at how different his life could have been had his mother and Angela been on speaking terms.
They stepped out on the patio and he was met with her hand. “Please? Umm…alcohol. Vodka, please?” A small smirk formed on his face as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the flask he had promised to bring and held it out for her. “We gotta stop meeting like this.” He joked as she took it from him and took a drink. “Thanks.”
He followed her to the seating area and watched her slump down and he joined her in the seat next to her. He glanced over at her and reached for the flask. “I know why I’m having a shitty night, but you care to share?” He said as he finally retrieved it and took a long swig before leaning back in the seat.
He watched as she fidgeted with her necklace. The typical Ash move when she couldn’t settle her thoughts. “JJ was just like…’oh, stop being such a bitch to Dorian’ or whatever in the bathroom.” Leave it to JJ to piss off another person. He truly didn’t see what Dorian saw in her. Sure, she was hot, but the girl was pure evil. He wasn’t sure there was anything redeeming about her. “Well, Dorian isn’t exactly innocent either. You guys have been going back and forth all night.” At least it had provided a slight distraction from the topic of ‘100 Reasons Lucky is a Piece of Shit: Parental Edition’.
He took another drink before handing it off to Ash. “I’m, like, sorry, for asking you to come. I’m umm…thanks, though.” He shrugged it off. “I’ve had worse nights.” He smiled weakly. “I mean…not many…but this is definitely far from the worst. So, no apologies necessary or thanks. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to be here.”
His eyes met hers and briefly glanced down as she bit her lip. “Like, it’s…nice…I guess to be able to show up with someone that isn’t, like…I guess just embarrassed or scared or whatever to be seen with me.” He sighed as he reached his arm across the back of the couch. “We’ve really gotta work on that confidence, Blair, cause I can’t think of anyone that would be embarrassed to be seen with you.” He gave her a reassuring smile.
A grin formed on his face as she drank from the flask. It was a bad idea. It always was. Drinking to run away from your problems only ever brought him more problems. Yet, here he was. Attempt number three thousand and forty-five. “Dorian was.” He sighed. The idea of Dorian and Ash didn’t sit well. They just didn’t seem like two people that would necessarily hang out, but that could be due to the fact that they had all this animosity toward each other. And neither one was giving up all the details.
“I’m thinking that had less to do with you and more to do with the parental units.” He couldn’t speak for Dorian, but he was a good guy and if he felt that keeping him and Ash a secret, he knew it was for good reason. “Nico was the only one who wasn’t.”
He reached over and took the flask from her. “From what I hear, he was a grade A douche and you’re much better off.” He took a large swig from the flask. “And I don’t think two bad relationships equate with you being social suicide…that’s my job remember?” He smiled.
“So why’d you want to be here? Just to see your dumb aunt? Like, I gotta say there were probably a lot better ways to do it than, ummm… well, than like this.” He huffed out a laugh as he took another drink.
“That…Ms. Johannes…is the understatement of the year.” He smirked as he held the flask out for her. “And no. Not just to see my dumb aunt.” It wasn’t. She didn’t matter to him enough to put him out. Curiosity though is a powerful thing. “But did you see her face when she opened the door and saw me?” It was epic. “That was totally worth it.”He chuckled. “Plus you’re not exactly the worst person to spend an evening with.”
“No way, I totally thought you hated hanging out with me.” He smirked. “One hundred percent. Can’t stand you.” He teased. “That’s why we’re, like, always together.” He smiled. “Sarcasm? Look at you using what I taught you.” He took the flask from her letting his fingers brush against hers before he brought it to his lips and took a swig. “Oh, I’m the reason we are always together?” He smirked.
“See, we totally should’ve just skipped the dinner and just umm…like just hung out me and you.” Her hand rested on his chest. She had really been giving some mixed signals. They were friends, but everything they did or said made him think otherwise. “And miss out on all this fun?” He said sarcastically. “I mean…I’m having the best time.” He chuckled as he reached over and took the flask from her. He let his other hand slide down on the couch and his fingers landed on hers. “At least we get to suffer together.” He said with a small smile. He was happy that she was here cause he didn’t think he would have made it through that dinner if she hadn’t been there to ground him.
“Oh yeah, totally,” He felt her thumb brush against his hand and he took a deep breath. “Like if I had to suffer through this with anyone, I’m so glad it was you.” He smiled. At least they were on the same page for once. “Stop. You’ll make me blush.” He joked as he slowly laced their fingers together. “But we should do something fun next time instead of, like, this.” He glanced down at their hands. “Next time?” He smirked as he glanced back up at her. “So you do like hanging with me.” He said teasingly. “This isn’t so bad, but I’m open to suggestions.” He swallowed hard. Things were changing again…reminding him of their previous interactions.
“Well, I was thinking like…definitely no parents, probably less people.” Less people was always good. At least in their case. He didn’t do well in crowds and she seemed like a pretty private person from what he’d experienced with her. “Definitely no parents.” He smirked as his thumb caressed her hand.. “I mean, we always end up just, like…this. Just me and you, anyway.” True. They did. And it was cause they were just friends, right? Just friends that occasionally held hands…and got close and flirted. “Why not just skip, like, the party and go to the best part of the night?” A smirk formed on his face as she leaned in.
“Just me, and you…” His eyes stayed glued to her. Was she really gonna make a move? Did he want her to? “And vodka.” He felt the flask get taken from him as she leaned back. He couldn’t help but smirk. “Thief.” He teased as she took a swig. She was flirting. They were flirting. “Guess I gotta keep a better eye on you.” He reached over and grabbed her hand with the flask and playfully pulled her closer to him. “Best part of the night, huh?” He looked down at her. “So, you’re just here for the vodka then?” He smirked as he glanced down at her lips for a moment before returning her gaze. “No other reason, right?”
“Right.” He watched as she bit her lip. “Totally just for the vodka.” He gripped the flask as she pulled her hand away and rested it against his chest. “Totally, huh?” He took a deep breath as his heartbeat increased. “I mean, I guess you’re kind of fun to hangout with, too.” He grinned. “Kind of fun? I’ll take it.” He said softly as he leaned in slightly. “Like, obviously. That’s why we’re friends.” That word again. The one from the other night. Friends. Just friends. The one she used when things were gearing up to cross a line.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “Totally.” He said with a small laugh to himself as he took a deep breath and leaned back. “We should head back inside before they send a search party.” He gave her a smile. “They probably think I’m looting the place.” He unlaced their fingers and stood up, holding his hand out for her to help her up.
“Or that we’re making out.” He helped her to her feet and gave her a weak smile. She was one of the most confusing girls he’d ever met. Seriously. He let out a huffed laugh. That was probably a given at this point. Their performance had already sparked their rumors despite their consistent assurance that they were, in fact, just friends. But he wasn’t sure that was true anymore.
“Come on.” He trailed behind her, slipping the empty flask into his pocket. Hopefully this night would be over soon. He needed to be anywhere that wasn’t here right now and he needed a place to think.
As he sat back down, the fact that he had been the subject of conversation was wildly apparent when silence befell the entire table. It would make if laugh if it wasn’t so unbelievably sad and pathetic. How can they hold so much hate for him when his only crime was existing.
Dinner winded down and despite his better judgement, he attempted to seek out JJ’s assistance. After several insults back and forth, Lucky got to the point and asked her for help in figuring out who the elusive ThirsTea was and providing a little payback. As expected, she was disinterested and couldn’t care less, but he had to try. There were plenty of other conniving bitches at HA he could get help from anyway.
Then came the end of the evening. Ash and him and Trevor and Maggie. Maggie had apologized to Trevor for tricking him into attending. Which…even Trevor didn’t deserve. And somehow, Ash left with him (surprise) and he took Maggie home. The reason why Mags had brought Trevor wasn’t the issue, but knowing that Trevor hates Lucky’s guts…that pissed him off and he wasn’t afraid to share it.
But like all of Lucky and Mags fights, it ended quickly but this time there was the added benefit of getting out some additional pent up…aggression. And they hooked up again. Which Lucky was sure wasn’t gonna happen again, but…they knew what it was. Two friends, just helping each other out.
________________One Week Later______________
The next week flew by. It was great. He and JBN got signed by management and their were already talks on him doing solo music as well. He and Ash had hung out several times. The awkwardness of Arts Fest seemed to be completely out of their system. He and Mags had continued their secret hookups and zero repercussions seemed to follow. It was a perfect arrangement. He got sex when he needed it and there were absolutely no complications. JBN was writing more music and rehearsing more. His social standing on Instagram had doubled and kept climbing the more and more their songs got out to the public.
He was on cloud nine. Felt better than he had in a really long time. He and Amy had decided to go to Winter’s Ball together…just as friends. She’d become a real supporter of Lucky and his music. They’d even secured a gig playing the Ball which was just…fucking…EPIC. So many more people we’re gonna hear their music.
He got up early Saturday morning. He didn’t have a plan really, but he wanted to write. He wanted to work on music, but he needed coffee…cause access to sex whenever he pleased left him not getting much sleep. He wasn’t complaining at all, but if today was going to be productive, then coffee was the next logical step.
He exited his building and, as if the universe knew that Lucky was in a good mood, it chose to ruin it. He wasn’t really surprised. Only by who it decided to send him. Angela Harlow. She wanted to pay him a visit to tell him that he’d better stay in line and that now the world knows he’s related to the Harlows, he needed to keep up appearances. Of course, the helpful advice came with a warning. If he didn’t, she’d bury him. And to be honest Lucky wasn’t sure if she meant literally or metaphorically. He wouldn’t put much past the bitch.
It left him fuming. Rage enveloped his entire body. It didn’t help that during this altercation Ash and Maggie had decided they hated each other and wanted to throw Lucky right in the middle. This is exactly why he didn’t get involved in relationships. Girls were crazy. They were petty. And all it didn’t was give Lucky a massive headache and need to decompress.
He needed weed.
It was too early to drink…plus…maybe weed would still allow him to get some work done. Javi wasn’t available. And that would usually be his go-to. So, cause Lucky makes the best choices, he reached out to Saint. Asked him if he could pick up some weed and made his way over to his apartment.
Just for weed.
_______________Two Hours Later_____________
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. He was a piece of shit. A sewer rat, as his aunt had so eloquently called him. Scum of the fucking earth. It was simple. Get weed. Leave. Not. Get weed. Make a move on your best friend’s ex.
“Lucky…”
He laid there breathless and stared at the ceiling. The voice of the person that should be his enemy echoed in his head as he turned to look over. Saint. The asshole who hurt Josie. The asshole that had zero qualms with the fact that he hurt Josie. The asshole that walked around school as if he were better than everyone. The asshole that had, twice now, provided the relief he needed to forget about all the bull shit.
“Yeah…I know.” He sat up and looked around for his clothes. He grabbed his boxer briefs from the lamp next to the bed and slipped them on. It had become tense. At least for Lucky. He’d crossed a line…again. He couldn’t chalk this up to being loaded out of his mind. He couldn’t chalk this up to anything.
He chose to come to Saint. He chose to make eyes at Saint. He chose to make the first move. He needed to feel better and nothing else mattered. And now, he just felt worse. Like his aunt was right. Like everyone else was right. He found his shirt and grabbed it from the floor before putting it on. “Have you seen my pants?” He glanced around and a victorious look washed over him.
He quickly made his way over and grabbed them along with his shoes and made his way back to Saint as he pulled on his jeans and took a seat next to the other guy to put on his shoes. He felt like he should say something. He felt like he should threaten the guy. Like he should beat up the guy. But Saint had kept their first time a secret, so he had some confidence that Saint didn’t want this getting out.
Not that this had become a thing. Cause it hadn’t. This was the last time. He stood up and grabbed the wallet in his back pocket. “How much do I owe you?” He said realizing that that sounded really bad. “For the weed…not the…uh..” He just stopped talking. How could this morning get any worse.
mood
defeated location
Saint's Apartment
outfit
clothes...duh
defeated location
Saint's Apartment
outfit
clothes...duh
playing...
Drowning
by Olivia Holt & Ross Lynch
Drowning
by Olivia Holt & Ross Lynch
mentions
Ash, JJ, Dorian, Mags, Josie, Amy
interactions
Sainttags
ditto
Ash, JJ, Dorian, Mags, Josie, Amy
interactions
Sainttags
ditto
Kitsune2202
Elder Member
"Cause my time is very pricey"
Ciara Luna
Ciara Luna
@Lunar.Eclipse has set their status to:
Welcome to LA!
@Lunar.Eclipse has set their outfit to:
Princess Cici?
@Lunar.Eclipse has set their location to:
Home
@Lunar.Eclipse has mentioned:
JJ
@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Majid (
AkuTheWolfOkami
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Ciara had taken to DM'ing JJ about outfit ideas because from the looks of people's insta's she had a style similar to her own that she liked. Not to mention after the girl giving her the run down on so many people around here, Cici knew she'd be a good person to reach out to on what kinda styles were IN in LA.
JJ was an interesting girl to Cici for sure. People seemed to have strong opinions of her for better or for worse, but she liked that. She got to see the mixing of the social circles, and who was loyal, who was not, and to who. Well just a taste of course since it's still very early and she hasn't of course met everyone just yet. Still she was begining to figure out who she'd like to be aligned with, who she could and should be neutral with, and who she wanted nothing to do with.
This might be high school, but it was the real world. It was the beginning of the rest of their careers, and Cici knew that in this industry it wasn't always about 100% talent. It was about also being in the right place at the right time. It wasn't just who you knew, but how well you knew them and the context of how you know them. Networking was a behind the scenes art that so many people didn't understand how to use to their advantage and would up suffering for it. How many one hit wonders died of the face of the map because they stepped on the wrong toe?
That wasn't going to be Cici's story.
Speaking of stories, it was about time for the fairytale chapter to begin. A date with a prince or prince equivalent could only be described as such. She peeked out her window just in time to see the entourage pull up. She actually felt a bit giddy which she hadn't felt in a long time. She chucked it up to the unbelievability of what was about to happen more then anything.
Cici was a lot of things, but sappy and sentimental wasn't usually one of them. Sure there were exceptions, like for her family but that was it and she kept that close to her chest. In fact any softness in her heart, any goodness, any generosity was kept under lock and key and reserved for a select few. She didn't think the world had earned that from her and certainly didn't deserve it.
She also held tight to the phrase "You give the knife that stabs you in the back." If you never give them the weapons' you never have to worry about it being used against you.
Regardless, this was going to be fun, and she was going to enjoy her first full weekend here in LA. She put a few final touches on and smiled at herself in the mirror, "Time to go get'em tiger." She chimed to herself as a little pep talk. She didn't really have an inner alter ego or anything, but Cici did actually talk to herself quite a bit. Always in private, but still.
She hurried out the door and locked it behind herself before approaching Majid with a sweet smile curled onto her strawberry lips. Wow...he was even cuter in person then his pfp. She shouldn't be shocked, but it was a pleasant bonus that he was actually very good looking. After all being a prince didn't mean you were hot. She thought none of the British royal line was cute. Harry was the best of the bunch, but even he wasn't really her type.
She approached slowly unsure if there were like rules to this or something. She gave a small wave to him letting the excitement brewing in the pit of her stomach fill her with adrenaline. Was this butterflies? Whatever it was it was new...kinda interesting. But she would keep it under control because this was Ciara Luna after all. She wasn't some simp who feel for the first guy she lays eyes on in a new place.
"Hey Majid!" She smiled sweetly as she got in front of him, "It's good to finally meet you in person." She giggled noticing he was holding the door open for her, "Thank you, how sweet." She chimed and climbed into the car. She normally would've touched his shoulder or went for a hug, but she supposed that could wait till they were in the vehicle together. A little more privacy you know?
ditto
still kicking :)
LINDSAY MORGAN KAY
“Of course I am,” Zeph said.
“Hell yeah!” Lin laughed happily in return, giving Zeph a harsh fist bump in the chest. “You’re Zephy freaking fudging fuckin’ Evermore — ‘course you’re here!” Lin’s blaring music echoed from inside the kitchen, traveling all the way to the foyer at a level that still almost drowned Lin’s voice out. “Only real pussies stand people up, and that ain’t you,” he said, nodding surely.
His friend grinned down at him. “Think maybe we should head in and you can get dressed and then we can do…something?”
“Get dressed?” Lin repeated as Zeph ushered him inside. He laughed. “Ess-em-aych, dude, what, you don’t like Dongald Duck?” He grinned widely, cackling as he gestured at his crotch, and then at his body. “It’s fuckin’ freeing, dude!” He propped his hands up behind his head. “The more clothes, the more boring.” He stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry, like a little kid disappointed in something.
Dropping his arms to his side and grabbing either side of the bathrobe’s dangling belt to twirl in circles, he started toward the kitchen, obviously expecting Zeph to follow him. As they entered, “Smooth Criminal” began to play.
“What do you wanna do?” Zeph asked, as Lin mouthed the first lyrics of the song. “I was thinking maybe, ah…maybe…” Lin threw himself onto the counter, posing with his legs crossed and his elbows on his knees first before dropping his palms to his side and looking over at Zeph curiously. “Video…games…?” Zeph finished.
“Video games?” Lin repeated, a curious look on his face. “What we talking here, bro?”
“Teach me Grand Theft Auto or whatever it is…?” Zeph said.
Lin stared at Zeph with the same expression for another couple of seconds, as though he hadn’t heard him, and then he suddenly laughed. “Luhmao!” He slapped his knee, uncrossing his legs and spreading them as wide as possible on the edge of the countertop. “Nah, nah, bro.” He flopped his hand dismissively. “You can’t handle this — you can’t handle meeee, luhmao.” He pointed two thumbs to himself. “You don’t wanna play video games with me ‘less you wanna get your ass obliterateeeeed!” Cackling, he slapped his palms on his thighs again. “I mean, we’re talking fuckin’ Pompeii!” He looked at Zeph again, grinning toothily and crookedly. “Plus, I already tried to teach you GTA — i-r-l, luhmao, and you didn’t have it in you, ess-em-aych.”
Pushing off the counter, he gave shrug. “No, no, no, I’ve got a plan for what we’re gonna do today,” he said casually, holding up his palms toward Zeph. All at once, he spun on his heels, whipped open a drawer, and pulled out an opened bag of —
“Cool ranch do-ri-toooos?” Lin asked as he whipped back around toward Zeph. He took one out and held it between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little wave and humming an “mmm” before popping it into his mouth. Crunch! He swallowed dramatically, then grinned. “Just like Mama made ‘em,” he cackled, grabbing a full handful from the bag. He shoved them all into his mouth, and then said, with his mouth full, “Catch,” and tossed them at Zeph.
Haphazardly dusting off his hands, the boy with the attention span of a toddler on crack moonwalked to the fridge. “You’ve been hit by, you’ve been struck by a smooth —“ He whipped open the refrigerator door, grabbed a soda out, and — “yo, Zeph!” — threw it at his friend over his shoulder. Grabbing another one from the fridge, he whipped back around. He slammed the door shut with his hip as he called, “Alley-oop!”
Crack! He opened up the can, put it to his lips, and immediately began to chug chug chug chug —
Finally, when it was empty, he jerked down his head and threw the can at the floor, and a second-long “BURP” left his mouth. He smacked his lips for a second, and then shook his head disappointedly. “Ess-em-aych,” he muttered. “Only that? Ess-em-aych.” He shook his head, and he looked over at Zeph. Holding up one finger towards Zeph, he began to slam the back of his fist into his chest, once, twice, three times, with a focused, narrow-eyed expression on his face, until —
BUUUUUUUURP!
“Shit!” he laughed after it left him, bringing his hand up to his nose. “Dude!” he laughed happily. He turned to Zeph proudly. “That once fucking vibrated my nose! That one was so fucking sick, dude!” He held out his hand. “Now pay up, ess-em-aych — for getting to witness my greatness.”
For a second, he held his expression, as though he was dead serious, and then his facade broke and he launched into happy laughter again. He grabbed up his can and threw it at the trash can. It made a clunk! as it fell into the basket. “Boo-fuckin’-yah!” he said victoriously, pumping his fist.
Then, he just walked off.
‘cuz duh, Zeph def knew what to do at this point, ess-em-aych. He was his apprentice, after all.
Luhmao. Zeph def.
Zef.
Hehe.
“See, Zephy,” he said as he made his way toward the living room, “what we’re doing today is something big.” He gestured with his arms widely apart to emphasize his point, and then he gave a sure nod. “Somethin’ super big, never heard of before, ya know.”
He spun on his heel, and he put his hands on either one of Zeph’s shoulders. His face suddenly grew serious. He yanked him down to be eye level with himself, and he met his eyes. When he spoke again, he spoke in an odd mixture of a British, Russian, and Australian accent. “Young Grasshopper, it is time that you finally graduate to bigger things.” He bowed his head, and then opened his eyes and looked him square in the eyes. “Are you ready for this mission, Double-O-Seven? There is no turning back.” He looked off into the distance, sniffling. “Many a young boy has fallen at the hands of this perilous journey…” His eyes trailed back to Zeph’s again. “Are you up to the task, O Zephy-Poo, Great Chosen Beaver Ass Prophet? Or do you quit now, and disappoint me and Lins everywhere?”
“Hell yeah!” Lin laughed happily in return, giving Zeph a harsh fist bump in the chest. “You’re Zephy freaking fudging fuckin’ Evermore — ‘course you’re here!” Lin’s blaring music echoed from inside the kitchen, traveling all the way to the foyer at a level that still almost drowned Lin’s voice out. “Only real pussies stand people up, and that ain’t you,” he said, nodding surely.
His friend grinned down at him. “Think maybe we should head in and you can get dressed and then we can do…something?”
“Get dressed?” Lin repeated as Zeph ushered him inside. He laughed. “Ess-em-aych, dude, what, you don’t like Dongald Duck?” He grinned widely, cackling as he gestured at his crotch, and then at his body. “It’s fuckin’ freeing, dude!” He propped his hands up behind his head. “The more clothes, the more boring.” He stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry, like a little kid disappointed in something.
Dropping his arms to his side and grabbing either side of the bathrobe’s dangling belt to twirl in circles, he started toward the kitchen, obviously expecting Zeph to follow him. As they entered, “Smooth Criminal” began to play.
“What do you wanna do?” Zeph asked, as Lin mouthed the first lyrics of the song. “I was thinking maybe, ah…maybe…” Lin threw himself onto the counter, posing with his legs crossed and his elbows on his knees first before dropping his palms to his side and looking over at Zeph curiously. “Video…games…?” Zeph finished.
“Video games?” Lin repeated, a curious look on his face. “What we talking here, bro?”
“Teach me Grand Theft Auto or whatever it is…?” Zeph said.
Lin stared at Zeph with the same expression for another couple of seconds, as though he hadn’t heard him, and then he suddenly laughed. “Luhmao!” He slapped his knee, uncrossing his legs and spreading them as wide as possible on the edge of the countertop. “Nah, nah, bro.” He flopped his hand dismissively. “You can’t handle this — you can’t handle meeee, luhmao.” He pointed two thumbs to himself. “You don’t wanna play video games with me ‘less you wanna get your ass obliterateeeeed!” Cackling, he slapped his palms on his thighs again. “I mean, we’re talking fuckin’ Pompeii!” He looked at Zeph again, grinning toothily and crookedly. “Plus, I already tried to teach you GTA — i-r-l, luhmao, and you didn’t have it in you, ess-em-aych.”
Pushing off the counter, he gave shrug. “No, no, no, I’ve got a plan for what we’re gonna do today,” he said casually, holding up his palms toward Zeph. All at once, he spun on his heels, whipped open a drawer, and pulled out an opened bag of —
“Cool ranch do-ri-toooos?” Lin asked as he whipped back around toward Zeph. He took one out and held it between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little wave and humming an “mmm” before popping it into his mouth. Crunch! He swallowed dramatically, then grinned. “Just like Mama made ‘em,” he cackled, grabbing a full handful from the bag. He shoved them all into his mouth, and then said, with his mouth full, “Catch,” and tossed them at Zeph.
Haphazardly dusting off his hands, the boy with the attention span of a toddler on crack moonwalked to the fridge. “You’ve been hit by, you’ve been struck by a smooth —“ He whipped open the refrigerator door, grabbed a soda out, and — “yo, Zeph!” — threw it at his friend over his shoulder. Grabbing another one from the fridge, he whipped back around. He slammed the door shut with his hip as he called, “Alley-oop!”
Crack! He opened up the can, put it to his lips, and immediately began to chug chug chug chug —
Finally, when it was empty, he jerked down his head and threw the can at the floor, and a second-long “BURP” left his mouth. He smacked his lips for a second, and then shook his head disappointedly. “Ess-em-aych,” he muttered. “Only that? Ess-em-aych.” He shook his head, and he looked over at Zeph. Holding up one finger towards Zeph, he began to slam the back of his fist into his chest, once, twice, three times, with a focused, narrow-eyed expression on his face, until —
BUUUUUUUURP!
“Shit!” he laughed after it left him, bringing his hand up to his nose. “Dude!” he laughed happily. He turned to Zeph proudly. “That once fucking vibrated my nose! That one was so fucking sick, dude!” He held out his hand. “Now pay up, ess-em-aych — for getting to witness my greatness.”
For a second, he held his expression, as though he was dead serious, and then his facade broke and he launched into happy laughter again. He grabbed up his can and threw it at the trash can. It made a clunk! as it fell into the basket. “Boo-fuckin’-yah!” he said victoriously, pumping his fist.
Then, he just walked off.
‘cuz duh, Zeph def knew what to do at this point, ess-em-aych. He was his apprentice, after all.
Luhmao. Zeph def.
Zef.
Hehe.
“See, Zephy,” he said as he made his way toward the living room, “what we’re doing today is something big.” He gestured with his arms widely apart to emphasize his point, and then he gave a sure nod. “Somethin’ super big, never heard of before, ya know.”
He spun on his heel, and he put his hands on either one of Zeph’s shoulders. His face suddenly grew serious. He yanked him down to be eye level with himself, and he met his eyes. When he spoke again, he spoke in an odd mixture of a British, Russian, and Australian accent. “Young Grasshopper, it is time that you finally graduate to bigger things.” He bowed his head, and then opened his eyes and looked him square in the eyes. “Are you ready for this mission, Double-O-Seven? There is no turning back.” He looked off into the distance, sniffling. “Many a young boy has fallen at the hands of this perilous journey…” His eyes trailed back to Zeph’s again. “Are you up to the task, O Zephy-Poo, Great Chosen Beaver Ass Prophet? Or do you quit now, and disappoint me and Lins everywhere?”
mood
welcome lmao
location
his condo
outfit
not much lmao
welcome lmao
location
his condo
outfit
not much lmao
playing...
we'll be okay
we'll be okay
by lindsay kay
mentions
n/a
interactions
zeph
tags
Winona
n/a
interactions
zeph
tags
Winona
Kitsune2202
Elder Member
"Focus on me, I'm about to blow them all away"
Stella Bailey
Stella Bailey
@Steller.Bae has set their status to:
Work mode
@Steller.Bae has set their outfit to:
Casual
@Steller.Bae has set their location to:
Studio
@Steller.Bae has mentioned:
Zeph, Maddie, Landon
@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Kinni (
AkuTheWolfOkami
)
Work mode
@Steller.Bae has set their outfit to:
Casual
@Steller.Bae has set their location to:
Studio
@Steller.Bae has mentioned:
Zeph, Maddie, Landon
@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Kinni (
AkuTheWolfOkami
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Now that Stella was face to face with the girl she did recognize her from a few twitter interactions, and she was pretty sure the girl was friends with Beth too. When she spoke up her accent along with the different language surprised her,
“Aloha, howzit?”
What language was that? Hawaiian? Sounded like it mostly from the Aloha bit, and Stella has seen Lilo and Stich. Stella had been to Hawaii before but she not gotten to talk to anyone who was a native and if they were they never spoke anything but English in front of her, so she had to admit it was kinda cool to hear something different. "Hey." She replied simply with a polite smile of her own on her lips.
Once again this was work and there was no need to bring any of her previous negative emotions into this. Not like this girl could help solve any of the issues she's been having anyways, even if she did want to talk about it.
It'd be unprofessional, and Stella was nothing if not a professional. In fact choosing her career of everything usually was a flaw of hers because it cost her in other areas of her life like friendships and relationships which is why she didn't have very many of those. She made the excuse that most people just can't handle the climb to fame and, so weeding out the weak links early was actually good for her in the long run. Anyone that could? Well those were the kind of connections worth keeping.
People like Landon, Maddie, and Zeph were ones that she knew could and had withstood the pressure of this industry on her, and help her survive it. Those were relationships she'd want to carry into her adult career. Anything less then that? She wouldn't miss.
“Uhh it shouldn’t take long, I’ll just take your measurements, let you try on some stuff that’s probably too big just to see how takes to your shape, then you’re good to go,”
Stella listened as Kinni began to talk and explain how everything was going to go this morning. She'd had fittings before, but not many solo like this. Usually they just stuck her in whatever was already in her size, and since her and her castmates were all different sizes one size of an outfit was bound to fit even if it took a bit of stitching. Still nothing that couldn't be done on the spot in a few minuets.
Then again because it was usually because the photoshoot was the same day. This was kinda different. This was just her. Just for her.
The Winter Fest had done it's job and she was getting lots of offers to do jobs, and be a part of things. Things always slowed at the start of the school year since most people who wanted to hire her knew she was in school still (being only 15 and all) but the Winter Arts Fest always gave a chance to boost her amount of gigs because it reminded people of Winter break coming in which she could be worked to the bone as usual.
"Sounds like a plan, thanks." she replied simply. Short and to the point was exactly what she wanted. Her mind wasn't really all the way present, because all she really wanted right now was to go back to her dorm room. If she was honest with herself she had no desire to stick around and chat or anything even if they were classmates.
Sure she should at least try due to this being a good networking opportunity being that Kinni would be the first person in the Plastics department in her grade level and in the future that'd be super helpful since all the ones she decently talked to right now would be graduating this year.
But she had so much on her plate to do today and so much on her mind on top of that, she wasn't in the mood to even try to entertain. Plus by the look and sound of Kinni she didn't really have any desire to engage in small talk either. Perfect then her distance won't come off as rude. She might not be able to build on this bridge today, but so long as it wasn't burning that would be a battle for another day.
"Where would you like me to stand?"
Winona
No, I don't have too many characters.
Nathan Woods
There was a certain calmness to the moment now. Nate was outside, breathing in the fresh LA air (which really wasn't all that fresh), smoking a joint with his best friend. Kind of fucking weird that his best friend was some dude he'd only known for a couple months, but hey, it was Nathan Woods. He tended to churn through people faster than ahh... faster than Liv could fuck her way through a whole classroom.
If he was being honest with himself, it was kind of getting to the point of needing to do another drop of everyone except Nate didn't... really want to. He was actually happy with Mike and Evie in his life. Definitely Evie, which was fucking weird in and of itself. Nate didn't do... serious relationships.
Nate hardly did relationships.
(According to this roleplayer's old notes, he'd barely even considered the relationship between himself and Amy as boyfriend/girlfriend.)
It was all fucking odd, and feeling this shift in his personality made him want to smoke. It made him want to smoke, drink, pop some pills to keep himself from thinking too fucking hard about it.
Nate hated thinking.
“Another shitty day, but what’s new, ya know.”
He let out a small snort followed by a little "yeah" in agreement, although for once, he couldn't agree with that. And that was also fucking odd and kind of throwing Nate for a hell of a loop. He just... he'd had a shit ton of really good days, and some mediocre days, but nothing that had really been fucking bad or anything.
Life was looking up Nate, and he was kind of waiting to have it come crashing back down.
Mike took a hit from the joint, but he started hacking which just let Nate know that this wasn't something he was used to. Woops. Was he a bad influence, then? Sure, Mike had taken the joint like it was no big deal, but ahh... if he hadn't, would Nate have tried pushing it on him a bit?
Well... yeah. But that didn't make him a bad person or some shit.
He took the joint back, taking another hit from it, and kept it close to himself for now because well... obviously this wasn't Mike's fucking thing, and he was going to take a lot more hits for him to catch up with Mike.
“Had another night with beer in the bathtub.”
Nate blinked.
Bathtub?
Why not just fucking drink in your bed like a normal dude?
He didn't comment.
“God, fuck…” Mike said, rubbing at his face and well...
He didn't really look like Mike. There was obviously something that felt a little bit off with his behavior, but Nate didn't really care enough to try and pinpoint what the fuck was wrong -- or to push or prod or ask any kind of fucking questions, because that just... wasn't what their friendship was.
And, well, that wasn't the kind of dude Nate was.
“Gonna be completely honest, babro — I’ve got no fucking idea what we’re doing. I don’t even remember making this plan. Anyway, what’s up with you?”
Ditto.
"Do whatever we want, I guess," Nate responded with a casual shrug of his shoulders as he again took a hit from the joint. He exhaled before continuing to speak. "Doing fucking good. Evie's great, Arts Festival did good. No complaints." And again, it felt a little odd to admit to that.
There was still that little itch at the back of his mind, that little itch that he had never really kicked since rehab, but that he'd managed to ignore but that now was... growing... it was getting harder and harder to ignore, and Nate couldn't entirely put two and two together as to why.
Joint brought back up. Another hit.
"You do drugs?" He asked blatantly, looking towards Mike with a blank expression before he held up the joint, wiggling it between his fingers. "Not this. Real drugs."
What could he say? He had an itch that needed to be scratched.
If he was being honest with himself, it was kind of getting to the point of needing to do another drop of everyone except Nate didn't... really want to. He was actually happy with Mike and Evie in his life. Definitely Evie, which was fucking weird in and of itself. Nate didn't do... serious relationships.
Nate hardly did relationships.
(According to this roleplayer's old notes, he'd barely even considered the relationship between himself and Amy as boyfriend/girlfriend.)
It was all fucking odd, and feeling this shift in his personality made him want to smoke. It made him want to smoke, drink, pop some pills to keep himself from thinking too fucking hard about it.
Nate hated thinking.
“Another shitty day, but what’s new, ya know.”
He let out a small snort followed by a little "yeah" in agreement, although for once, he couldn't agree with that. And that was also fucking odd and kind of throwing Nate for a hell of a loop. He just... he'd had a shit ton of really good days, and some mediocre days, but nothing that had really been fucking bad or anything.
Life was looking up Nate, and he was kind of waiting to have it come crashing back down.
Mike took a hit from the joint, but he started hacking which just let Nate know that this wasn't something he was used to. Woops. Was he a bad influence, then? Sure, Mike had taken the joint like it was no big deal, but ahh... if he hadn't, would Nate have tried pushing it on him a bit?
Well... yeah. But that didn't make him a bad person or some shit.
He took the joint back, taking another hit from it, and kept it close to himself for now because well... obviously this wasn't Mike's fucking thing, and he was going to take a lot more hits for him to catch up with Mike.
“Had another night with beer in the bathtub.”
Nate blinked.
Bathtub?
Why not just fucking drink in your bed like a normal dude?
He didn't comment.
“God, fuck…” Mike said, rubbing at his face and well...
He didn't really look like Mike. There was obviously something that felt a little bit off with his behavior, but Nate didn't really care enough to try and pinpoint what the fuck was wrong -- or to push or prod or ask any kind of fucking questions, because that just... wasn't what their friendship was.
And, well, that wasn't the kind of dude Nate was.
“Gonna be completely honest, babro — I’ve got no fucking idea what we’re doing. I don’t even remember making this plan. Anyway, what’s up with you?”
Ditto.
"Do whatever we want, I guess," Nate responded with a casual shrug of his shoulders as he again took a hit from the joint. He exhaled before continuing to speak. "Doing fucking good. Evie's great, Arts Festival did good. No complaints." And again, it felt a little odd to admit to that.
There was still that little itch at the back of his mind, that little itch that he had never really kicked since rehab, but that he'd managed to ignore but that now was... growing... it was getting harder and harder to ignore, and Nate couldn't entirely put two and two together as to why.
Joint brought back up. Another hit.
"You do drugs?" He asked blatantly, looking towards Mike with a blank expression before he held up the joint, wiggling it between his fingers. "Not this. Real drugs."
What could he say? He had an itch that needed to be scratched.
mood
idk
location
outside his apartment
outfit
clothes
idk
location
outside his apartment
outfit
clothes
playing...
song title
song title
by artist
mentions
Evie
interactions
Mike
tags
ditto
Evie
interactions
Mike
tags
ditto
qunqun
Give me your herbs, worm.
-
MOOD: Friendly
OUTFIT: Something kinda comfy
LOCATION: Naomi's place (subject to change) -
basics
-
-
tags
-
TL;DR Hello would you like to talk about our lord and savior-
-
tl;dr
Bailey
Bailey first and foremost was just a complete and total nerd.
No really. They could admit it to themselves and to everyone around them. Last Friday, instead of going out with friends or doing anything particularly interesting, they spent the night closing out the library trying to find the difference in fashion between classes in the Belle Epoque of France.
Naturally, that kind of person with such a sparkling social life was not really used to people offering them blunts. Specifically, even though they were a huge fucking nerd, they didn’t really want people to know just how much of a nerd they were. Especially their really cool, really social friend Naomi who just performed a huge hit and wow she was really amazing had they mentioned that recently?
“I could smoke.” They said with a small little smile. No. No they could not. But they sure as hell were going to try. “... Also do you have any Cheez-Its? I like those.”
Yep. This was going fantastically. First time getting high. Wooo. They could only hope that their apprehension wasn’t too visible on their face here.
They watched awkwardly as Naomi walked around the apartment. They really weren’t sure if they were supposed to help, but they assumed that digging around Naomi’s things would’ve been a worse thing to do.
“I mean, not much. I got a good grade on my project, but I’m not a senior so I didn’t get too much coverage on my project. They were more focused on the seniors, which is understandable. And also my field is just a little bit more niche - not as flashy as the performers. But I kind of like it like that, y’know?” Bailey said with a little shrug.
Finally when Naomi came back, Bailey picked up a blunt from the box. One of these ends were supposed to be lit, the other was supposed to go in their mouths. They knew that much at least. And it was… the smaller end. Right?
Listen, they were trying their best here.
As they were somewhat blankly staring at the blunt in their hands, they quickly looked back up to Naomi. “So. Like. What’s been happening then. I heard your performance was a huge success. How’s that been?”
code by valen t.
Winona
No, I don't have too many characters.
Elizabeth Sterling
All of this touchy feely sister stuff was kind of grossing Beth out, and she was also like, really, really fighting the urge to kind of look at her nails to express her disinterest (because clearly it was just disinterest and not feeling heaps of guilt and embarrassment over what had happened), but she didn't. She didn't really want to give her sister the satisfaction of this or whatever of listening to her ramblings, but, well...
Beth did.
Like she listened.
It was just really uncomfortable, at least for her.
“Beth,” Tori said, “I…I’m really, really, really sorry. For, like…I’m… I’m your big sister, you know. Like, you’re here so I can be a good role model to you and stuff like that…and I, like, pitched a baby rage bitch fit in public and embarrassed both of us, and now, like…I get why you hate me.”
She really thought Beth hated her?
A touch shocked, Beth actually lifted her gaze to meet her sister's and at that point, there was really no denying that she did feel an overwhelming amount of guilt.
“Sorry,” Tori repeated. “That was super shitty. I’m an…” She folded her hands in her lap, shaking her head shamefully. “I’m an awful sister, I—“ She lifted a hand to her head, closing her eyes. “It’s, like…Jeez Louise.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
Tori opened her eyes again, and her hand reached out to touch Beth's shoulder. “Can you…will you forgive me? I just — I hate fighting. I really hate fighting, Lizzie.”
Lizzie. No one really called her Liz or Lizzie anymore, save for, well, Tori. So hearing that old nickname again kind of, like, it kind of brought Beth back. Like reminded her of the days when she was just Liz, before they'd moved here and the whole Beth nickname had stuck and she'd tried to be someone she wasn't really.
Bitchy. Headstrong. You get the gist.
Well... she'd always kind of been that.
Beth let out a soft sigh and finally broke eye contact with her sister. She needed to speak, accept her apology or whatever, but before she could find the strength to do that... Beth kind of just threw herself at Tori, wrapping her arms tightly around her sister and laid her head against Tori's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Beth mumbled, her bitchy strong demeanor cracking in this moment. "I'm not... mad at you, like... I was never really mad at you, and I'm... I'm sorry for not talking to you. For like blocking you out and ignoring you, I just... I felt bad, for leaving you there with mom and dad and running away like... like..."
Instead of finishing that thought -- instead of saying how she'd run away like a little kid -- Beth just trailed off. Heck, she'd even ignore their parents for the rest of the weekend following that, until they'd returned home to Maryland because she wasn't sure how to deal with it.
So the answer had obviously been to block everything and everyone out.
"Can we just, like, stop talking about this and pretend it never happened? I don't wanna keep getting all gushy and start crying or whatever before I hangout with Spencer."
Beth did.
Like she listened.
It was just really uncomfortable, at least for her.
“Beth,” Tori said, “I…I’m really, really, really sorry. For, like…I’m… I’m your big sister, you know. Like, you’re here so I can be a good role model to you and stuff like that…and I, like, pitched a baby rage bitch fit in public and embarrassed both of us, and now, like…I get why you hate me.”
She really thought Beth hated her?
A touch shocked, Beth actually lifted her gaze to meet her sister's and at that point, there was really no denying that she did feel an overwhelming amount of guilt.
“Sorry,” Tori repeated. “That was super shitty. I’m an…” She folded her hands in her lap, shaking her head shamefully. “I’m an awful sister, I—“ She lifted a hand to her head, closing her eyes. “It’s, like…Jeez Louise.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
Tori opened her eyes again, and her hand reached out to touch Beth's shoulder. “Can you…will you forgive me? I just — I hate fighting. I really hate fighting, Lizzie.”
Lizzie. No one really called her Liz or Lizzie anymore, save for, well, Tori. So hearing that old nickname again kind of, like, it kind of brought Beth back. Like reminded her of the days when she was just Liz, before they'd moved here and the whole Beth nickname had stuck and she'd tried to be someone she wasn't really.
Bitchy. Headstrong. You get the gist.
Well... she'd always kind of been that.
Beth let out a soft sigh and finally broke eye contact with her sister. She needed to speak, accept her apology or whatever, but before she could find the strength to do that... Beth kind of just threw herself at Tori, wrapping her arms tightly around her sister and laid her head against Tori's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Beth mumbled, her bitchy strong demeanor cracking in this moment. "I'm not... mad at you, like... I was never really mad at you, and I'm... I'm sorry for not talking to you. For like blocking you out and ignoring you, I just... I felt bad, for leaving you there with mom and dad and running away like... like..."
Instead of finishing that thought -- instead of saying how she'd run away like a little kid -- Beth just trailed off. Heck, she'd even ignore their parents for the rest of the weekend following that, until they'd returned home to Maryland because she wasn't sure how to deal with it.
So the answer had obviously been to block everything and everyone out.
"Can we just, like, stop talking about this and pretend it never happened? I don't wanna keep getting all gushy and start crying or whatever before I hangout with Spencer."
mood
ugh
location
her bedroom
outfit
clothes
ugh
location
her bedroom
outfit
clothes
playing...
It's Still Cool If You Don't
It's Still Cool If You Don't
by Briston Maroney
mentions
Spencer
interactions
Tori
tags
ditto
Spencer
interactions
Tori
tags
ditto
Soap
faisons un vœu
Alejandra Cortez
"I can’t focus on what needs to be done.”
@Realex has set their status to:
Keys?
@Realex has set their outfit to:
Something casual.
@Realex has interacted with:
Ava
@Realex has mentioned:
Naomi, Charlie, Simone
@Realex has tagged:
Winona
Keys?
@Realex has set their outfit to:
Something casual.
@Realex has interacted with:
Ava
@Realex has mentioned:
Naomi, Charlie, Simone
@Realex has tagged:
Winona"I don't keep track of your shit,"
And here Alex believed she had a good roommate, one that kept everything tidy, hid her things to avoid them getting lost, taco tuesdays on Wednesdays for the hell of it, even offered to do her laundry once in a while—
Ohhhh right. That was her.
A moment of silence passed as the two looked at each other before Ava spoke.
"Check the basket. Usually where I toss your keys and shit when I don't know where to put it."
“You’re the sister I never wanted,” Alex said putting a hand over her heart, dropping it and going over to the end table, already looking through the basket for the keyring that had a bunch of different keys that opened nothing.
Alex never took them off though, she always figured the landlord gave them to her like that for a reason.
Maybe it was a luck thing.
Alejandra was definitely a very superstitious person, but so far she hadn’t heard a superstition about keys. What was she even thinking about?
Alex shook her head, clearly too far in thought about something… so stupid.
Was she distracting herself?
Yes. She was nervous.
Over what, though? The thing with Simone, or the thing with Naomi?
Good question.
"That explains why you're getting all dolled up," Her roommate said as soon as she mentioned Naomi and Alex couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
"Date or...?"
Well…
It could’ve been a date.
They’ve been weird, lately. But everything seems and points towards a date? Alex was always confused when it came to Naomi. Or… nervous, really.
She knew what she wanted out of this.
And it wasn’t exactly rocket science.
“I think so? She says we're celebrating something. The ball? I guess?" She didn't tell Ava she was going with Naomi to the ball either, but she figured she had to sometime.
No, it wasn’t sex.
She liked Naomi.
A lot.
Alex just wished she could push away all the waiting and actually date her. Not like the ‘date’ as in casually date, but make Naomi her girlfriend.
Look, if it was fast…
It was fast.
To be fair, it’s been what? A month? Maybe two since their kiss?
She was just tired of waiting for everything that she wanted.
“But uh, that's later tonight, Simone and I are going somewhere so I figured to at least look decent, it isn’t for Naomi.”
It wasn’t for Simone either.
Don’t make assumptions.
Alex just wanted to look… okay for once.
There wasn't a reason behind it.
“Are you still headed to that Haunted House thing? I wish I could go, to be honest. Drinking with fake IDs-- you didn’t hear that from me, doesn’t really sound like my cup of tea.”
Alejandra wasn’t a drinker.
Wine sometimes, maybe… with her mom.
But the other times she’d drank was…
Well, with Simone.
And…
Also with Simone. It seemed to be becoming quite a pattern for the two girls.
But Alex couldn’t just blow her off just because she didn’t want to drink. Simone wanted to have fun, and this was her version of fun.
And if her version of fun meant things go back to normal after their almost kiss.
So be it.
“Why am I going?” Ava hadn’t even asked but Alex figured she would, or even if she wasn’t going to, she felt like she had to state why.
“Because things have been… different lately, and I think this’ll help.” She told her, folding a throw blanket and placing it neatly back onto the couch.
Alex was always the one to talk about her own things.
“Don’t ask why it’s been different, it just has been.”
Why didn’t Ava?
“What’s happening with you and… uh, JJ?” Okay, to be completely honest. Alex wasn’t really sure if Ava had any friends besides JJ. So… she didn’t really know what to ask here.
But hey, she was trying.
ditto
still kicking :)
nickie abrams.
“Spontaneous is my middle name,” Liv said with a wide smile that made Nickie smile, too.
“Really?” Nickie said, her eyes scanning the crowded mall. Damn it, she honestly should’ve come week before last for dress shopping instead of…doing whatever she’d done.
…Oh right. That was the day she’d cried all day, watched penguin documentaries, and downed two tubs of vanilla ice cream. That was necessary. Nevermind.
“It’s actually Elizabeth —“ (And Nickie rolled her eyes and muttered, “Oh my God,” with a little chuckle.) “— but…yanno, same thing.”
After being bombarded by stall clerks who had nothing to sell but, like, overpriced curling irons or, like, feet acupuncture (? Like, why?), Liv gestured to a Claire’s. Nickie raised an eyebrow.
“Wanna get our ears pierced?” Liv asked, looking at Nickie. “I’ll let you hold my hand if you get scared.”
Nickie laughed. “Oh my God.” She held up her palm, rolling her eyes and smiling. “I’m not stepping foot anywhere near a store meant for eleven-year-olds, Livanna. No thank you, I’d rather, like, not have the entire mall be witness to me walking into a store that smells like baby angst and sells, like, Fortnite merchandise.”
She looked back at Liv — who already seemed distracted by something. “What…?” Nickie asked, and then she turned around and followed Liv’s gaze to a storefront whose sing read CleoBella Boutique.
“Bella means beautiful in…I don’t know, Korean or something,” Liv said.
Nickie snickered, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “Or something, yeah.”
“It’s a sign.” Liv’s eyes were full of excitement. “Let’s go.”
Nickie narrowed her eyes at the store, skeptical. She spotted something on the window — a sign saying, No Appointment, No Entry — Book an Appointment Today For the Time of Your Life! “Um?” She uncrossed her arms and lifted a finger to point in the direction of the sign, turning to look at Liv. “Y —“
But Liv had already grabbed her by the hand and was dragging her into the store.
Nickie’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” She tugged back at Liv’s hand. They were inside the store — the empty store. “Oh my God, Liv.” She looked at Liv, her eyes panicked. “Liv, seriousl —“
“Uhhhmmmmmmm, helloooooooo?”
Nickie shook her head. “Liv —“
“We wanna give you our money!”
“Stop!” Nickie whispered, tensing up and closing her eyes in anticipation. Someone was, like, going to come out here, and they were going to yell at them, and oh my God…do you know how embarrassing that would be? Like — like, that was shave your head and change identities level bad. Like…oh my God.
But a few seconds passed, and no one came out, and Nickie felt Liv release her hand. Opening her eyes, she looked around confusedly until her eyes found —
“Oh my God, Liv.” Nickie’s jaw fell slack.
“How naughty of you,” said Liv, who stood on the mannequin stage beside a now naked mannequin whose probably-thousand-dollar dress lay wrinkled at its feet, “flashing the whole mall. Tsk, tsk. Been there once or twice. It isn’t all that.” She shook her head, as if she were disappointed in the mannequin.
Nickie clasped her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God, Liv,” she said, though her voice was muffled behind her hands.
She watched as the other girl lifted the dress, looked at the tag, and then slumped over dejectedly — and then, all at once, there was something being hurled towards her.
Nickie instinctively held her hands out in front of herself, her entire body tensing up and her face screwing, but nothing ever hit her. She peeked open one eye to see the beautiful dress hanging off the side of the clothing rack.
Nickie stared at it for a second, and then slowly looked at Liv. “Liv,” she said. “Liv…”
“Try it on,” Liv said.
“Liv.”
“Come on, come on.”
“Liv.”
“If it doesn’t fit you either we’ll sue the place for emotional distress.”
Nickie blinked. “Oh my God. Liv.” She looked at the dress, and she reached out to touch it, but her hand stopped about half an inch short. She looked back up at Liv, her eyes still wide with shock. “You’re, like, literally insane.”
Liv shrugged. “Spontaneity,” she said.
Nickie’s mouth hung open for a moment. She looked at the dress, and then at Liv, then back to the dress, then back to Liv. Dress, Liv, dress, Liv, dress, Liv, dress…oh God, that was a beautiful dress. The beading, the fabric…
She slowly looked back to Liv, and as her eyes trailed across the room on the way to Liv’s face, a small smile crept onto her face. She let out a soft sigh. “Oh, fuck it.” She reached over and picked up the dress, and she lifted it up as though she was giving a toast with it. “Spontaneity,” she repeated.
As Nickie stepped into the changing stall (the dress had a zipper on the side, yay), she couldn’t still the excited beating in her heart. This was the feeling she’d gotten when she was in the center of parties. When she was in drinking contests, or dancing on top of tables. The feeling that she was doing something that she shouldn’t — no, not just a feeling. A rush. It was idiotic — literally, this was such dumb shit — but she wasn’t…she just…
She got a rush from being a…vomit, ew, she hated the word, but — she got a rush from being a bad girl.
That felt like such a damn cliche…again, just what was her fucking life?
She latched the top of the zipper side of the dress, and she took in as deep of an inhale as she could get. “Oh God,” she muttered. “I literally — I can’t fucking breathe in this,” she said to Liv from behind the curtain. She reached out and yanked the curtain aside, putting her hands on her hips. She couldn’t contain a smile and a laugh as she gestured to her getup. “Like, look! Literally, my boobs are, like, half-hanging out, and you can see my stomach flab, and, like, I can hardly walk, and — no.” She shook her head emphatically, turning to step back inside the changing stall. “Absolutely not. I feel like a fucking watermelon with rubber bands around it, holy —“
She cut herself off with a soft gasp, and she stopped turning. Her hand idly held the curtain for a moment. “Oh my God, Liv.” She dropped the curtain, pointing to a dress on the rack. “Liv, oh my God. Oh my God, look at that o…”
She trailed off as she began to step towards it, and she gasped again as she pulled the thing off of the rack. It gave a loud rustle as she moved her arms back, and she grimaced. “God, I’m going to pop this thing.” She looked back at Liv, holding up a finger as she made her way back to the stall. “Let me get this off — I just — I have to try this —“ A point towards the dress she was carrying. “— on.”
She disappeared behind the curtains again, and about a minute later, she spoke again. “Oh shit. Liv. Liv, come here.”
She yanked the curtains aside again and stepped out. “I think it’s a…” She looked down, putting her hands on the skirt.
White. Ruffly. No sleeves. Low cut. Lots of tulle.
“…wedding dress,” she finished with a laugh.
Nickie spotted a full-length mirror, and she slowly shuffled towards it. When she came to a stop in front of it, she stared at her reflection. “Ugh,” she groaned, “it’s super cute, though.” She glanced at Liv. She drew in a deep breath. “You know how they say, like, people say, like, whoever catches the bouquet at a wedding will be, like, the next married or whatever?” She rolled her eyes, laughing softly as she looked back at herself. “Who the hell knows where that came from, but whatever.”
She put her hands on her hips. “When I was, like, twelve, I caught a bouquet at a wedding, so, like…” She smiled vaguely at the memory as she stared at the dress’ reflection. “I was literally so convinced that I was going to marry this boy named Bradley Turner. He had, like, eight baby teeth still, but I thought he was, like, mega hot. I had a super big crush on him — he was my, like, lab partner. I had, like…you know that movie cliche where they write the boy’s name on a journal a thousand times? Yeah, I literally did that with my science journal, but…anyway.” She reached down and began to fiddle with the skirt as she continued. “And so, like, I went up to him like a…” She blew out a long puff of air, chuckling softly and glancing at Liv to warn her, “Oh my God, okay, this is so cringe. I was literally, like, so, so weird. Don’t judge me, okay? But, like…”
She looked down at her skirt. “I was…I went up to him at lunch and said, ‘So when are you going to propose to me?’” God, remembering this made her cringe so bad, because, like, she’d literally said it exactly like that. “And, like, keep in mind, like, like, I’m this girl with, like, super frizzy hair and super baggy clothes and super, like — like, shit like that, and, like — like, he’s just, he’s like, so surprised, he just says, like, ‘I don’t know you.’” At this point, she was red-faced from the laughter — and from the embarrassment of the memory.
Drawing in a gasp of air, she continued. “Anyway, so I went home and threw away all of this — like, this book of wedding dresses and flowers and shit I’d drawn and all of the wedding plans I’d made for when he totally asked me to marry him, and then I, like — I, like, sat on the couch and cried until my mom came home.”
Sighing, she looked at her face’s reflection. “I was an idiot,” she chuckled. “Still am one.” A genuinely happy smile cracked across her face as she looked back at Liv. “But that’s my appeal, right?” she half-joked.
She waved a hand dismissively, her face falling back into something neutral. “Anyway, I need to get out of this dress before I get the urge to propose to someone again. It’s an issue.” She started towards the changing room. “You know how people get, like, baby fever? I get that, but for weddings. Like, no idea why. But still —“
She stopped walking, her eyes fixated on a spot again. Quickly — and noisily, thanks to the dress she was wearing — she walked over to a rack and pulled out a short, bright neon green dress. “Oh my God,” she whispered, and she looked over at Liv. “Oh. My. God. Liv.” Her voice was excited. “Liv, literally.” She shoved it at her. “Literally, go try that dress on right now. Like, immediate —“
“Good afternoon, ladies,” said a voice from behind Nickie, and she jerked — her soul left her body for a moment.
“Shit,” she whispered, turning around to face a stern-looking, grey-haired, cyan-scarved man. Giving him her best smile, she said, “Hi.”
He looked between her and Liv. “Can I help you?”
“Really?” Nickie said, her eyes scanning the crowded mall. Damn it, she honestly should’ve come week before last for dress shopping instead of…doing whatever she’d done.
…Oh right. That was the day she’d cried all day, watched penguin documentaries, and downed two tubs of vanilla ice cream. That was necessary. Nevermind.
“It’s actually Elizabeth —“ (And Nickie rolled her eyes and muttered, “Oh my God,” with a little chuckle.) “— but…yanno, same thing.”
After being bombarded by stall clerks who had nothing to sell but, like, overpriced curling irons or, like, feet acupuncture (? Like, why?), Liv gestured to a Claire’s. Nickie raised an eyebrow.
“Wanna get our ears pierced?” Liv asked, looking at Nickie. “I’ll let you hold my hand if you get scared.”
Nickie laughed. “Oh my God.” She held up her palm, rolling her eyes and smiling. “I’m not stepping foot anywhere near a store meant for eleven-year-olds, Livanna. No thank you, I’d rather, like, not have the entire mall be witness to me walking into a store that smells like baby angst and sells, like, Fortnite merchandise.”
She looked back at Liv — who already seemed distracted by something. “What…?” Nickie asked, and then she turned around and followed Liv’s gaze to a storefront whose sing read CleoBella Boutique.
“Bella means beautiful in…I don’t know, Korean or something,” Liv said.
Nickie snickered, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “Or something, yeah.”
“It’s a sign.” Liv’s eyes were full of excitement. “Let’s go.”
Nickie narrowed her eyes at the store, skeptical. She spotted something on the window — a sign saying, No Appointment, No Entry — Book an Appointment Today For the Time of Your Life! “Um?” She uncrossed her arms and lifted a finger to point in the direction of the sign, turning to look at Liv. “Y —“
But Liv had already grabbed her by the hand and was dragging her into the store.
Nickie’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” She tugged back at Liv’s hand. They were inside the store — the empty store. “Oh my God, Liv.” She looked at Liv, her eyes panicked. “Liv, seriousl —“
“Uhhhmmmmmmm, helloooooooo?”
Nickie shook her head. “Liv —“
“We wanna give you our money!”
“Stop!” Nickie whispered, tensing up and closing her eyes in anticipation. Someone was, like, going to come out here, and they were going to yell at them, and oh my God…do you know how embarrassing that would be? Like — like, that was shave your head and change identities level bad. Like…oh my God.
But a few seconds passed, and no one came out, and Nickie felt Liv release her hand. Opening her eyes, she looked around confusedly until her eyes found —
“Oh my God, Liv.” Nickie’s jaw fell slack.
“How naughty of you,” said Liv, who stood on the mannequin stage beside a now naked mannequin whose probably-thousand-dollar dress lay wrinkled at its feet, “flashing the whole mall. Tsk, tsk. Been there once or twice. It isn’t all that.” She shook her head, as if she were disappointed in the mannequin.
Nickie clasped her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God, Liv,” she said, though her voice was muffled behind her hands.
She watched as the other girl lifted the dress, looked at the tag, and then slumped over dejectedly — and then, all at once, there was something being hurled towards her.
Nickie instinctively held her hands out in front of herself, her entire body tensing up and her face screwing, but nothing ever hit her. She peeked open one eye to see the beautiful dress hanging off the side of the clothing rack.
Nickie stared at it for a second, and then slowly looked at Liv. “Liv,” she said. “Liv…”
“Try it on,” Liv said.
“Liv.”
“Come on, come on.”
“Liv.”
“If it doesn’t fit you either we’ll sue the place for emotional distress.”
Nickie blinked. “Oh my God. Liv.” She looked at the dress, and she reached out to touch it, but her hand stopped about half an inch short. She looked back up at Liv, her eyes still wide with shock. “You’re, like, literally insane.”
Liv shrugged. “Spontaneity,” she said.
Nickie’s mouth hung open for a moment. She looked at the dress, and then at Liv, then back to the dress, then back to Liv. Dress, Liv, dress, Liv, dress, Liv, dress…oh God, that was a beautiful dress. The beading, the fabric…
She slowly looked back to Liv, and as her eyes trailed across the room on the way to Liv’s face, a small smile crept onto her face. She let out a soft sigh. “Oh, fuck it.” She reached over and picked up the dress, and she lifted it up as though she was giving a toast with it. “Spontaneity,” she repeated.
As Nickie stepped into the changing stall (the dress had a zipper on the side, yay), she couldn’t still the excited beating in her heart. This was the feeling she’d gotten when she was in the center of parties. When she was in drinking contests, or dancing on top of tables. The feeling that she was doing something that she shouldn’t — no, not just a feeling. A rush. It was idiotic — literally, this was such dumb shit — but she wasn’t…she just…
She got a rush from being a…vomit, ew, she hated the word, but — she got a rush from being a bad girl.
That felt like such a damn cliche…again, just what was her fucking life?
She latched the top of the zipper side of the dress, and she took in as deep of an inhale as she could get. “Oh God,” she muttered. “I literally — I can’t fucking breathe in this,” she said to Liv from behind the curtain. She reached out and yanked the curtain aside, putting her hands on her hips. She couldn’t contain a smile and a laugh as she gestured to her getup. “Like, look! Literally, my boobs are, like, half-hanging out, and you can see my stomach flab, and, like, I can hardly walk, and — no.” She shook her head emphatically, turning to step back inside the changing stall. “Absolutely not. I feel like a fucking watermelon with rubber bands around it, holy —“
She cut herself off with a soft gasp, and she stopped turning. Her hand idly held the curtain for a moment. “Oh my God, Liv.” She dropped the curtain, pointing to a dress on the rack. “Liv, oh my God. Oh my God, look at that o…”
She trailed off as she began to step towards it, and she gasped again as she pulled the thing off of the rack. It gave a loud rustle as she moved her arms back, and she grimaced. “God, I’m going to pop this thing.” She looked back at Liv, holding up a finger as she made her way back to the stall. “Let me get this off — I just — I have to try this —“ A point towards the dress she was carrying. “— on.”
She disappeared behind the curtains again, and about a minute later, she spoke again. “Oh shit. Liv. Liv, come here.”
She yanked the curtains aside again and stepped out. “I think it’s a…” She looked down, putting her hands on the skirt.
White. Ruffly. No sleeves. Low cut. Lots of tulle.
“…wedding dress,” she finished with a laugh.
Nickie spotted a full-length mirror, and she slowly shuffled towards it. When she came to a stop in front of it, she stared at her reflection. “Ugh,” she groaned, “it’s super cute, though.” She glanced at Liv. She drew in a deep breath. “You know how they say, like, people say, like, whoever catches the bouquet at a wedding will be, like, the next married or whatever?” She rolled her eyes, laughing softly as she looked back at herself. “Who the hell knows where that came from, but whatever.”
She put her hands on her hips. “When I was, like, twelve, I caught a bouquet at a wedding, so, like…” She smiled vaguely at the memory as she stared at the dress’ reflection. “I was literally so convinced that I was going to marry this boy named Bradley Turner. He had, like, eight baby teeth still, but I thought he was, like, mega hot. I had a super big crush on him — he was my, like, lab partner. I had, like…you know that movie cliche where they write the boy’s name on a journal a thousand times? Yeah, I literally did that with my science journal, but…anyway.” She reached down and began to fiddle with the skirt as she continued. “And so, like, I went up to him like a…” She blew out a long puff of air, chuckling softly and glancing at Liv to warn her, “Oh my God, okay, this is so cringe. I was literally, like, so, so weird. Don’t judge me, okay? But, like…”
She looked down at her skirt. “I was…I went up to him at lunch and said, ‘So when are you going to propose to me?’” God, remembering this made her cringe so bad, because, like, she’d literally said it exactly like that. “And, like, keep in mind, like, like, I’m this girl with, like, super frizzy hair and super baggy clothes and super, like — like, shit like that, and, like — like, he’s just, he’s like, so surprised, he just says, like, ‘I don’t know you.’” At this point, she was red-faced from the laughter — and from the embarrassment of the memory.
Drawing in a gasp of air, she continued. “Anyway, so I went home and threw away all of this — like, this book of wedding dresses and flowers and shit I’d drawn and all of the wedding plans I’d made for when he totally asked me to marry him, and then I, like — I, like, sat on the couch and cried until my mom came home.”
Sighing, she looked at her face’s reflection. “I was an idiot,” she chuckled. “Still am one.” A genuinely happy smile cracked across her face as she looked back at Liv. “But that’s my appeal, right?” she half-joked.
She waved a hand dismissively, her face falling back into something neutral. “Anyway, I need to get out of this dress before I get the urge to propose to someone again. It’s an issue.” She started towards the changing room. “You know how people get, like, baby fever? I get that, but for weddings. Like, no idea why. But still —“
She stopped walking, her eyes fixated on a spot again. Quickly — and noisily, thanks to the dress she was wearing — she walked over to a rack and pulled out a short, bright neon green dress. “Oh my God,” she whispered, and she looked over at Liv. “Oh. My. God. Liv.” Her voice was excited. “Liv, literally.” She shoved it at her. “Literally, go try that dress on right now. Like, immediate —“
“Good afternoon, ladies,” said a voice from behind Nickie, and she jerked — her soul left her body for a moment.
“Shit,” she whispered, turning around to face a stern-looking, grey-haired, cyan-scarved man. Giving him her best smile, she said, “Hi.”
He looked between her and Liv. “Can I help you?”
mood
0 - 0
location
the mall
outfit
something
0 - 0
location
the mall
outfit
something
playing...
normal
normal
by nickie.
mentions
n/a
interactions
liv
tags
Soap
n/a
interactions
liv
tags
Soap
Last edited:
ditto
still kicking :)
felix rian emmerson
‘course, Kian didn’t get the memo that Felix was Felix at first, so, yeah, cue him havin’ a screechin’ fit, flailin’ the arms and the legs, floppin’ to the floor, scramblin’ to his feet — full nine yards, ya know.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?” Kian screamed as Felix dodged three pillows hurled his way — and then came another pillow, and he barely missed that one. “GET OUT I HAVE A —“
And then Kian dove for the coffee table yellin’, “STAND BACK, I’VE GOT STICKY NOTES!”
An’ Felix, ya know, just kinda…watched his best friend do whatever ya called what happened next.
Kian just kinda…ripped off a sticky note.
Balled it up.
Tossed it at Felix.
And it just hit him and bounced off.
And then it rolled a couple of inches on the ground.
And he just kept doin’ that.
As the paper balls bounced off of him, Felix just stared, blinkin’ at his old friend with confusion and mild amusement. He didn’t want to speak up and interrupt Kian’s sticky-note-ball-makin’ streak, so he just kept watchin’ until —
“Oh…” Kian loosely held the next balled-up sticky note in his palm. “Oh hey Felix!”
Felix gave a casual nod and a pleasant smile. “Hey there, bud.”
“What are you doin’ here, buddy?” Kian asked, placin’ the pad of paper down on the coffee table.
Felix shrugged, raisin’ his eyebrow as he watched Kian resituate the frog on his head and drop down on the sofa.
“Ugh…,” Kian groaned, before Felix could give any verbal answer. The frog-hatted boy rubbed his temples. “Dude what are you even doing here? Why are you here? Why does my head hurt so bad?”
Okay, so ya know, when he heard that, he had to do somethin’ with it. Felix was an opportunist — he wasn’t gonna pass up a situation like this.
Felix slowly put a hand over his heart, his eyebrows furrowing. “Do you…not…remember?” he said in his most dejected voice, allowing his last word to fall into breathiness. He drew in a deep breath, blinked rapidly a few times. He shook his head. “You…” Out went a shaky breath, and his eyes shifted to Kian before looking to the ground. “…and me…” He ran a hand through his hair, then dropped his hands to his hips. He made his voice gravely, near a breakin’ point. “To think…that I…” He lifted a hand up to press his fingers into his eyes, as though he were holding back tears. “That I was just some little forgettable thing…”
When he opened his eyes and lifted them to Kian, he’d managed to work up some tears. His blue eyes were brimmed with them, and he drew in a deep sniffle. “And…and you told me…you loved me. Kian, did you…did you…” He clutched a hand over his heart. “Did you forget the passion we shared? After you told me we’d build a future together? After you told me that I would only ever be your one and only — you just forgot?!”
(Were most of thee lines snatched from “Our Deepest Sympathy” starrin’ Felix Emmerson, Landon Sinclaire, and Chanel Clairmont, premierin’ spring 2021? Perhaps — you’d have to watch the movie to know, wink.)
After a moment of holdin’ his impassioned stance and expression, Felix abruptly relaxed into a grin, and he chuckled, holdin’ up his palms. “I kid, I kid,” he said. “Nah, I’m just bored as hell. Nuh’ih’ to do.” He shrugged. “Thought I’d pay one of my best buds a visit.” He gave Kian a smile.
Of course, then his eyes trailed to the environment — to the mess of a living room — and when he looked back at his mostly-undressed compadre, there was a curiosity in his expression. “So what you been doin’, bud? I mean, besides hardcore drugs.” He chuckled. “Got any plans for today or anything?”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?” Kian screamed as Felix dodged three pillows hurled his way — and then came another pillow, and he barely missed that one. “GET OUT I HAVE A —“
And then Kian dove for the coffee table yellin’, “STAND BACK, I’VE GOT STICKY NOTES!”
An’ Felix, ya know, just kinda…watched his best friend do whatever ya called what happened next.
Kian just kinda…ripped off a sticky note.
Balled it up.
Tossed it at Felix.
And it just hit him and bounced off.
And then it rolled a couple of inches on the ground.
And he just kept doin’ that.
As the paper balls bounced off of him, Felix just stared, blinkin’ at his old friend with confusion and mild amusement. He didn’t want to speak up and interrupt Kian’s sticky-note-ball-makin’ streak, so he just kept watchin’ until —
“Oh…” Kian loosely held the next balled-up sticky note in his palm. “Oh hey Felix!”
Felix gave a casual nod and a pleasant smile. “Hey there, bud.”
“What are you doin’ here, buddy?” Kian asked, placin’ the pad of paper down on the coffee table.
Felix shrugged, raisin’ his eyebrow as he watched Kian resituate the frog on his head and drop down on the sofa.
“Ugh…,” Kian groaned, before Felix could give any verbal answer. The frog-hatted boy rubbed his temples. “Dude what are you even doing here? Why are you here? Why does my head hurt so bad?”
Okay, so ya know, when he heard that, he had to do somethin’ with it. Felix was an opportunist — he wasn’t gonna pass up a situation like this.
Felix slowly put a hand over his heart, his eyebrows furrowing. “Do you…not…remember?” he said in his most dejected voice, allowing his last word to fall into breathiness. He drew in a deep breath, blinked rapidly a few times. He shook his head. “You…” Out went a shaky breath, and his eyes shifted to Kian before looking to the ground. “…and me…” He ran a hand through his hair, then dropped his hands to his hips. He made his voice gravely, near a breakin’ point. “To think…that I…” He lifted a hand up to press his fingers into his eyes, as though he were holding back tears. “That I was just some little forgettable thing…”
When he opened his eyes and lifted them to Kian, he’d managed to work up some tears. His blue eyes were brimmed with them, and he drew in a deep sniffle. “And…and you told me…you loved me. Kian, did you…did you…” He clutched a hand over his heart. “Did you forget the passion we shared? After you told me we’d build a future together? After you told me that I would only ever be your one and only — you just forgot?!”
(Were most of thee lines snatched from “Our Deepest Sympathy” starrin’ Felix Emmerson, Landon Sinclaire, and Chanel Clairmont, premierin’ spring 2021? Perhaps — you’d have to watch the movie to know, wink.)
After a moment of holdin’ his impassioned stance and expression, Felix abruptly relaxed into a grin, and he chuckled, holdin’ up his palms. “I kid, I kid,” he said. “Nah, I’m just bored as hell. Nuh’ih’ to do.” He shrugged. “Thought I’d pay one of my best buds a visit.” He gave Kian a smile.
Of course, then his eyes trailed to the environment — to the mess of a living room — and when he looked back at his mostly-undressed compadre, there was a curiosity in his expression. “So what you been doin’, bud? I mean, besides hardcore drugs.” He chuckled. “Got any plans for today or anything?”
mood
howdy
location
kian's place
outfit
something casual
howdy
location
kian's place
outfit
something casual
playing...
take a slice
take a slice
by glass animals
mentions
landon & chanel
interactions
kian
tags
geminiy
landon & chanel
interactions
kian
tags
geminiy
ditto
still kicking :)
victoria shantel sterling
It was quiet for a moment, and in that moment, Tori felt her heart ache again. There was this distance between her and her sister — not a physical distance, but this barrier that the Arts Fest had erected in one way or another — and she hated it. It just…it felt wrong.
Because here was Tori, always so desperate to keep everyone’s approval, and she’d somehow forgotten about her sister. About how her sister felt. She’d really just taken her sister’s place in her life for granted, and…it just…
The guilt that she’d felt all week was weighing on her again; it was making her feel ill.
Please forgive me, she begged internally, studying her sister’s expression carefully for any sign that she was forgiven or…or even that she was listening. It’ll never happen again. Please, please, please.
Then, Beth let out a soft sigh, breaking her eyes away. Tori swallowed hard and breathed in deeply, scared to make any movement. She didn’t want to upset her sister again, or to make her even angrier than she had been.
But she didn’t have to worry about that, apparently, because the next thing Tori felt was Beth squeezing her tightly, her head resting on her shoulder.
Immediately, everything in Tori softened, from fear and panic and desperation to be forgiven to warmth and love and relief.
“I’m sorry,” Beth mumbled.
Tori wrapped her arms around her sister in return, smiling softly. “You don’t need to be,” she said quietly.
“I’m not…mad at you, like…I was never really mad at you, and I’m…I’m sorry for not talking to you,” Beth said. “For like blocking you out and ignoring you, I just…I felt bad for leaving out here with mom and dad and running away like…like…”
She hugged her sister tightly in silence for another moment, letting Beth’s thought settle before she muttered, “Lizzie, seriously, it’s fine.” She breathed in a shallow breath, closed her eyes, and released her breath. “I…it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you.” There was a long pause between her sentences, and she drew in another deep breath and released it.
She and her sister had been through a lot together. Whether they were close or not — or whether Beth called them close or not — it was really anyone’s take…but there was one thing that Tori knew for sure: to survive out here, they really, really needed each other. Being at odds…she fucking hated it. It didn’t feel…right.
And even if she wanted to drive a wedge between her and her sister and say that Beth was immature, or that she was irrational, which were both true…
“Honestly, I…”
Wanted to do the same.
She opened her eyes again, only to find that her vision was bleary. She drew in a sniffle, hugging her sister tightly.
And then Beth spoke up: “Can we just, like, stop talking about this and pretend it never happened? I don't wanna keep getting all gushy and start crying or whatever before I hangout with Spencer."
Tori immediately pulled back from the hug and held her palms out toward her sister in surrender. “Oh.” She blinked a few times, then nodded. “Oh yeah, totally.” She gave her sister an awkward smile. She started to push off the bed, setting her feet on the ground and positioning herself to stand. “I’ll just let you go, and you can go hang out wiiiiiiiiithholdupasecondwaitadamnminute.”
See, Tori, even if she was distracted from a point, and even if you wanted her to forget a point, never forgot a point.
She saw it as a strength, personally.
Her mouth went agape, and her brows lowered in shock. “Elizabeth,” she started accusatorially, fully pushing herself off the bed to stand and slowly turn around to her sister with crossed arms and an irritatedly tapping foot, “you’re hanging out with Spencer? As in Spencer Gray? As in Ezra’s brother?”
1) Why hadn’t she been told about this?! Hell, even if Beth was ignoring her all week, the least that she could have done was tipped Tori off as to who she was hanging out with today.
2) How the fuck had she gotten so far with Spencer as to be fucking hanging out with him when she couldn’t even talk to Ezra face to face?! What the hell?! Tori had game, okay — there was no way that her little sister’s game was better than hers.
Not that she wanted to charm Ez in the first place. Or that she had any interest whatsoever in Ez.
But still! Her point remained!
She let out a soft huff. “Jeez, Beth! Why — why are you just now —“ She huffed again, trying to collect her thoughts as her eyes looked towards the ceiling and her brows wiggled up and down in various expressions of shock, concern, and frustration. She looked back at her sister, uncrossing her arms to put her fists on her hips. “What are you up to with him?”
Without even giving her sister a chance to answer, she assumed what Beth was going to say, so she continued, reaching her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “What exactly are you doing? I don’t just mean your cover story.” She looked back at her sister, dropping her hand from her face to do air quotes at her next sentence. “Are you two ‘just friends’ or ‘just friends’?” She gasped, then put her hand on her temple, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. “Oh Jesus, please tell me that was not you two who I saw in that white Nissan Altima during lunch period.” The one bumping One Direction as the people inside bumped uglies.
Or at least, she was pretty sure they were having sex. She didn’t really look long enough to tell.
“I swear to God,” she said, opening her eyes and once again dropping her hand from pinching her nose, this time to point at her sister emphatically, “if you’ve kissed, and you get mouth herpes, I’m so totally liable for that — and, Jeez Louuuuise.” She grimaced harshly as another thought entered her mind; “If you end up pregnant with a Gray’s baby I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She shook her head, already exploring the outcomes of the situation: “I’m just going to have to pull a Juliet, or Mom will behead me. This is the end of my life.”
She shook her head once more, looking back at her sister. “Ezra Gray’s little brother — Ez’s little brother…,” she repeated, and then she said, “You’re kidding, right? You’re not actually going to go do something with him, right?” And then she repeated: “Right?!”
Oh, please be right.
Because here was Tori, always so desperate to keep everyone’s approval, and she’d somehow forgotten about her sister. About how her sister felt. She’d really just taken her sister’s place in her life for granted, and…it just…
The guilt that she’d felt all week was weighing on her again; it was making her feel ill.
Please forgive me, she begged internally, studying her sister’s expression carefully for any sign that she was forgiven or…or even that she was listening. It’ll never happen again. Please, please, please.
Then, Beth let out a soft sigh, breaking her eyes away. Tori swallowed hard and breathed in deeply, scared to make any movement. She didn’t want to upset her sister again, or to make her even angrier than she had been.
But she didn’t have to worry about that, apparently, because the next thing Tori felt was Beth squeezing her tightly, her head resting on her shoulder.
Immediately, everything in Tori softened, from fear and panic and desperation to be forgiven to warmth and love and relief.
“I’m sorry,” Beth mumbled.
Tori wrapped her arms around her sister in return, smiling softly. “You don’t need to be,” she said quietly.
“I’m not…mad at you, like…I was never really mad at you, and I’m…I’m sorry for not talking to you,” Beth said. “For like blocking you out and ignoring you, I just…I felt bad for leaving out here with mom and dad and running away like…like…”
She hugged her sister tightly in silence for another moment, letting Beth’s thought settle before she muttered, “Lizzie, seriously, it’s fine.” She breathed in a shallow breath, closed her eyes, and released her breath. “I…it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you.” There was a long pause between her sentences, and she drew in another deep breath and released it.
She and her sister had been through a lot together. Whether they were close or not — or whether Beth called them close or not — it was really anyone’s take…but there was one thing that Tori knew for sure: to survive out here, they really, really needed each other. Being at odds…she fucking hated it. It didn’t feel…right.
And even if she wanted to drive a wedge between her and her sister and say that Beth was immature, or that she was irrational, which were both true…
“Honestly, I…”
Wanted to do the same.
She opened her eyes again, only to find that her vision was bleary. She drew in a sniffle, hugging her sister tightly.
And then Beth spoke up: “Can we just, like, stop talking about this and pretend it never happened? I don't wanna keep getting all gushy and start crying or whatever before I hangout with Spencer."
Tori immediately pulled back from the hug and held her palms out toward her sister in surrender. “Oh.” She blinked a few times, then nodded. “Oh yeah, totally.” She gave her sister an awkward smile. She started to push off the bed, setting her feet on the ground and positioning herself to stand. “I’ll just let you go, and you can go hang out wiiiiiiiiithholdupasecondwaitadamnminute.”
See, Tori, even if she was distracted from a point, and even if you wanted her to forget a point, never forgot a point.
She saw it as a strength, personally.
Her mouth went agape, and her brows lowered in shock. “Elizabeth,” she started accusatorially, fully pushing herself off the bed to stand and slowly turn around to her sister with crossed arms and an irritatedly tapping foot, “you’re hanging out with Spencer? As in Spencer Gray? As in Ezra’s brother?”
1) Why hadn’t she been told about this?! Hell, even if Beth was ignoring her all week, the least that she could have done was tipped Tori off as to who she was hanging out with today.
2) How the fuck had she gotten so far with Spencer as to be fucking hanging out with him when she couldn’t even talk to Ezra face to face?! What the hell?! Tori had game, okay — there was no way that her little sister’s game was better than hers.
Not that she wanted to charm Ez in the first place. Or that she had any interest whatsoever in Ez.
But still! Her point remained!
She let out a soft huff. “Jeez, Beth! Why — why are you just now —“ She huffed again, trying to collect her thoughts as her eyes looked towards the ceiling and her brows wiggled up and down in various expressions of shock, concern, and frustration. She looked back at her sister, uncrossing her arms to put her fists on her hips. “What are you up to with him?”
Without even giving her sister a chance to answer, she assumed what Beth was going to say, so she continued, reaching her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “What exactly are you doing? I don’t just mean your cover story.” She looked back at her sister, dropping her hand from her face to do air quotes at her next sentence. “Are you two ‘just friends’ or ‘just friends’?” She gasped, then put her hand on her temple, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. “Oh Jesus, please tell me that was not you two who I saw in that white Nissan Altima during lunch period.” The one bumping One Direction as the people inside bumped uglies.
Or at least, she was pretty sure they were having sex. She didn’t really look long enough to tell.
“I swear to God,” she said, opening her eyes and once again dropping her hand from pinching her nose, this time to point at her sister emphatically, “if you’ve kissed, and you get mouth herpes, I’m so totally liable for that — and, Jeez Louuuuise.” She grimaced harshly as another thought entered her mind; “If you end up pregnant with a Gray’s baby I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She shook her head, already exploring the outcomes of the situation: “I’m just going to have to pull a Juliet, or Mom will behead me. This is the end of my life.”
She shook her head once more, looking back at her sister. “Ezra Gray’s little brother — Ez’s little brother…,” she repeated, and then she said, “You’re kidding, right? You’re not actually going to go do something with him, right?” And then she repeated: “Right?!”
Oh, please be right.
mood
...
location
the apartment
outfit
something casual
...
location
the apartment
outfit
something casual
playing...
be nice to me
be nice to me
by the front bottoms
mentions
ez & spencer
interactions
beth
tags
Winona
ez & spencer
interactions
beth
tags
Winona
Last edited:
ditto
still kicking :)
MICHAEL K. REID
Standing outside an apartment building in Los Angeles that could buy him enough cancer sticks to ruin a solid thirty sets of lungs with some to spare with his best friend of all of two months, holding a fucking joint in hand while inwardly bitching about, boohoo, life sucks, Mommy didn’t want me, yadda yadda was mighty Michael Reid, king of Hollywood Arts and all of that shit, the guy who had all the girls swooning for him, had all the guys terrified of him, and had been publicly fucking humiliated at the showing of the magnum opus of his entire high school — fuck it, no, his entire career, in general, all because he fucked one girl and she seemed to think that that meant that she meant absolutely fucking anything to him or that she was entitled to something for being the pocket he’d slipped his dick into a couple of times, and, once again, for the umpteenth time even just today, Mike was acutely aware that he was not fucking meant to be here. This — here, with this guy, doing this shit — was not for him. This was for some pathetic, silver-spooned asswipe whose dad blew his nose on Benjamins. Someone with a future in hand already. Someone whose snub-nosed father said, “This is what you’re going to do with your life, this is the future I’ve got planned for you,” and who gave a “sure Daddy uwu” and was sent off with an ass smack to seize the day and siphon more money for their parents and their business and their government agency. The world was run by fucking nepotists, by classists — by bastards of all degrees — anyway. Unless you were willing to be the people in powers’ bitches — like Gen had wanted him to be, like everyone seemed to fucking want him to be — then you were left like Mike: a square peg forced a few millimeters into a round hole.
He tried his fucking damnedest. He’d gotten so fucking far — and he was here now, in LA, doing drugs and destroying his body and all of that shit. And why did he even get to fucking do that? Because he was fucking lucky enough to stumble across a pamphlet, was lucky enough to apply early enough, was lucky enough to be the poor asshole who the school could brag about redeeming and shit like that.
It was whatever. He wasn’t a little bitch. Imposter Syndrome was far fucking beneath him.
Nate wore this situation like it was a warm coat. He was casual, exhaling smoke and speaking about everything breezily. “Doing fucking good. Evie’s great, Arts Festival did good. No complaints.”
Lookey there. Life was great for him. Yippee. Hooray. “Good for you,” Mike said, and he meant it.
He tried to clear the inadequate, fuck-brained feeling in his head. It was probably because he was groggy from the alcohol, or because the hacking from the joint fucked up his thinking or something. Something. “I don’t belong” wasn’t shit that Mike said. He belonged everywhere he was, and everywhere he wanted to be. That was it.
He was Michael fucking Reid. And who were you? Nobody.
Sighing, he reached a hand up to rub his neck, his eyes squinting. The sun was too bright out here, but at least it wasn’t swelteringly hot anymore.
“You do drugs?”
Mike looked over at Nate. For some reason, the question, though it was asked out of the blue, didn’t take him aback.
Nate wiggled the joint between his fingers. “Not this. Real drugs.”
This made Mike crack a grin — which was something he’d only ever done around Nate all week. “You just blasphemed against the Great and Holy Just Say No VHS tapes of antiquity, babro,” he chuckled. “Better say your prayers to the big Shit-Quality VCR Player in the sky before all shitty middle school counselors who don’t do their jobs anyway come out here to half-heartedly stab you with their number two pencils for saying that, gasp, weed’s not a real drug,” he joked dryly.
He didn’t know if Nate got his joke. There was too much context to describe for that joke to be even remotely funny, but it was funny to Mike, in a kind of shitty way.
It wasn’t any thanks to the grainy, warble-voiced shitstorms of PSAs about just saying no that he’d said no all along. It wasn’t because of that shit that he’d passed up molly at parties and coke in the bathrooms and weed in the parking lots before.
Having a crackwhore mom was kind of like its own just say no campaign.
He told himself that if he ever did drugs, he’d have to be dying or something. They didn’t seem fun, or pleasurable, or anything like that. They just seemed sad. But he guessed he was just kinda fucking sad now, wasn’t he?
That didn’t require any of your input — or any of your goddamn pity.
He’d smoked with Nate this week, and you know, they said weed was a gateway drug.
So fuck it. If he was headed there already —
“All of that Just Say No shit was bullshit,” Mike said, looking back over at Nate. “Sure, I do drugs. What you got?”
He tried his fucking damnedest. He’d gotten so fucking far — and he was here now, in LA, doing drugs and destroying his body and all of that shit. And why did he even get to fucking do that? Because he was fucking lucky enough to stumble across a pamphlet, was lucky enough to apply early enough, was lucky enough to be the poor asshole who the school could brag about redeeming and shit like that.
It was whatever. He wasn’t a little bitch. Imposter Syndrome was far fucking beneath him.
Nate wore this situation like it was a warm coat. He was casual, exhaling smoke and speaking about everything breezily. “Doing fucking good. Evie’s great, Arts Festival did good. No complaints.”
Lookey there. Life was great for him. Yippee. Hooray. “Good for you,” Mike said, and he meant it.
He tried to clear the inadequate, fuck-brained feeling in his head. It was probably because he was groggy from the alcohol, or because the hacking from the joint fucked up his thinking or something. Something. “I don’t belong” wasn’t shit that Mike said. He belonged everywhere he was, and everywhere he wanted to be. That was it.
He was Michael fucking Reid. And who were you? Nobody.
Sighing, he reached a hand up to rub his neck, his eyes squinting. The sun was too bright out here, but at least it wasn’t swelteringly hot anymore.
“You do drugs?”
Mike looked over at Nate. For some reason, the question, though it was asked out of the blue, didn’t take him aback.
Nate wiggled the joint between his fingers. “Not this. Real drugs.”
This made Mike crack a grin — which was something he’d only ever done around Nate all week. “You just blasphemed against the Great and Holy Just Say No VHS tapes of antiquity, babro,” he chuckled. “Better say your prayers to the big Shit-Quality VCR Player in the sky before all shitty middle school counselors who don’t do their jobs anyway come out here to half-heartedly stab you with their number two pencils for saying that, gasp, weed’s not a real drug,” he joked dryly.
He didn’t know if Nate got his joke. There was too much context to describe for that joke to be even remotely funny, but it was funny to Mike, in a kind of shitty way.
It wasn’t any thanks to the grainy, warble-voiced shitstorms of PSAs about just saying no that he’d said no all along. It wasn’t because of that shit that he’d passed up molly at parties and coke in the bathrooms and weed in the parking lots before.
Having a crackwhore mom was kind of like its own just say no campaign.
He told himself that if he ever did drugs, he’d have to be dying or something. They didn’t seem fun, or pleasurable, or anything like that. They just seemed sad. But he guessed he was just kinda fucking sad now, wasn’t he?
That didn’t require any of your input — or any of your goddamn pity.
He’d smoked with Nate this week, and you know, they said weed was a gateway drug.
So fuck it. If he was headed there already —
“All of that Just Say No shit was bullshit,” Mike said, looking back over at Nate. “Sure, I do drugs. What you got?”
mood
...
location
outside of nate's apartment complex
outfit
who fucking cares
...
location
outside of nate's apartment complex
outfit
who fucking cares
playing...
drunk face
drunk face
by machine gun kelly
mentions
gen
interactions
nate
tags
Winona
gen
interactions
nate
tags
Winona
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