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

[Winona]

Jace West

Parties were not... they weren't... pfft, parties were just, ahaha... Jace was uncomfortable right now. Why'd he even come? He was standing by himself, heart pounding in his chest a million and ten miles an hour, his hands were all over the place -- he didn't know what to do with them. Cross them over his chest? Put them in his pockets? Finger gun people in the hopes someone would come over and try talking to him?

Ahaha... kidding, kidding.

If someone came over, there was a good chance he would just pass out right then and there from pure stress.

He'd kind of been thinking like, oh well maybe he'd just leave, you know? Dip out of the party now, and then he'd go home and spend his evening stretching into the new year in the best way possible: alone in his apartment, probably with some takeout and some juice or something, because he was a good boy and he didn't drink.

In fact, Jace had pretty much settled fully onto this thought, onto this idea. And he was prepared to head off. Slip his way outta the party, past the couples that were practically dry humping in public (seriously, go home if that's what you were coming to public to do because bleh), when some dude came up to him instead.

Jace's eyes widened as he stared up at the tall stranger.

Approaching him.

At a party.

Oh fudge, what did he do, what did he do--

“Hey there, you mind a bit of company? Made you a drink.”

"Oh, I-- I don't... you know, it's just..." Jace cleared his throat, taking the drink with a mumbled "thanks." He stared down into the mixture. Did alcohol stay in your system long enough that if he got blood tested on Monday, he could be sentenced to jail for underage drinking and expelled?

What a way to go down -- he could see it in the headlines now.

Gerber Baby Jace West Arrested, Career Over

The Pressures of Childhood Stardom: Jace West, a Warning Story

He'd show up for years in cautionary videos that were shown to children about the issues of underage drinking and how they definitely didn't want to end up like him.

But then there were the pressures of--

Yeah, no, peer pressure wasn't going to push him tot his.

So he brought the cup to his lips, pretending to tip it back and take a drink, even giving a very convincing mmmm as he did so before he pulled it away. He smacked his lips together, acting like he'd really taken a very good, very big drink of it. "I-I'm just..." he placed it on a nearby table. "Gonna just... just leave it there... f-for later, not that... that it wasn't... wasn't really, really good..." he gave a convincing, awkward laugh.

Haha, help.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite unless asked. But that’s neither here nor there.”

Oh my.

“Matteo Wright, friends call me Teo. What’s your name?”

"Jace. Jace West, just... just... Jace... to friends... to... everyone."

Nailing it.

“Pleasure to meet you, cucciolo.”

Cuticle? Wasn't that a nail thing?

“How’s your break been treating you?”

Was this casual small talk?

Dorian had poorly set him up for this.

"I-- I ah... it's been..." he cleared his throat -- hell, because he'd gone back home with Ash for a few days for Christmas, and that had just been hell. Nothing but tenseness between everyone, nothing but passive aggressive remarks from most of them. "Good, very... good. Very... good... new year... ready for new year, ahem." He cleared his throat again, as if that'd somehow clear out the awkward way he was speaking.

"Do you... go... to... school?"

What?

mood
ahahaha help

location
party

outfit
clothes

playing...
Insecure

by Jace West​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Teo

tags
qunqun

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Casey Clairmont

Wow, tough crowd.

Casey hadn't failed to notice the way she kind of looked him up and down, and he was sure she was disgusted with his appearance. With the ripped skinny jeans (not laying on the floor, ahaha), the Converse, the Ramones band tank top, with the flannel pulled on over all of that, and of course, his natural smell that just radiated from him in glorious waves. Oh, was that sexy campfire? Why no, that was Casey set fire to some homework to try and bring a smile to his face before arriving to this house party that he was ill-equipped to attend. A new fragrance by the Clairmonts.

Ahaha.

He was doing fine. Really, he'd never been better.

But he was not going to let this lady's cold response deter him. Nope. Casey would get a smile out of her way one way or another, so he kept the lopsided grin plastered on his face, and the uppity attitude flowing through him, no matter how hard it might get to keep up the act.

"Katya," he echoed. "Real pretty name. Where're you from? Definitely not from 'round here, lemme guess, you're from ahh..." he had the country on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't think of it. Another common issue with the blonde boy -- when his words would come faster than his head could keep up with. He pressed his tongue against his teeth, squinting his eyes as he tried to guess where the accent was from.

"... Ukraine?"

That was... not what he wanted, but he was pretty sure it was close enough.

"I've been there on tour once, ya know. Yeah, kinda real crazy over there. It was real fun, though. I'd definitely go back, 'cause I got some real cool stuff while I was over there."

Talking about his tour days almost made the boy choke up, kind of brought this lump pressing into his throat of homesickness, but he kept the bubbly attitude, the bubbly smile.

He was fine.

mood
great

location
the party

outfit
cool boy band clothes

playing...
Starting Line

by Casey Clairmont​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Katya

tags
qunqun

º º code by ditto º º

 

[qunqun]

MOOD: ...

OUTFIT: A whole 3 colors

LOCATION: Party

basics

MENTIONS:
Nikolai


INT:
Jace Winona

tags

TL;DR Entertain me, cucciolo.

tl;dr

Teo

Oh you poor little lost lamb.

Teo raised a single eyebrow at the long drink that Jace had taken. Was he an alcoholic? Probably not. He seemed too… nervous for drug addictions. Way too high-strung.

The more likely answer was that Jace was too socially awkward to explain that he didn’t drink and was humoring Teo. Which he appreciated. It wasn’t like drinking was the only way to get this boy to relax, after all.

Oh you poor lost little lamb. Had no idea about the wolf that was going to pounce.

He watched Jace set the very full cup down, acting like Teo couldn’t see that there was 0 change in the actual volume of the cup. Guess they were both going to pretend then.

Teo tried not to smile too much at Jace’s stuttering and stumbling over what he could only assume was supposed to be some kind of small-talkish response like “It went pretty alright, rather uninteresting.”

Just smile and nod like the nervous wreck in front of him wasn’t the funniest thing he’d heard in a while. If he was having difficulty with “how was your break” Jace was sure as hell not going to be able to keep up with Teo.

He let the stuttering and the aborted sentences continue.

Poor little puppy, who kicked you? Why were you so…. Twitchy. Was he alright? Did he need a hug? Therapy? Anxiety medication? A cigarette? No definitely not a cigarette. (Though a part of Teo did want to see if Jace would actually take a puff of one. He thought it’d be funny).

Do you go to school?

What.

Okay, at least the boy was trying to continue the conversation, he could work with that. His face split into a wide grin, the mask perfect, never faltering, like what Jace had said was a very expected response and not at all kind of an odd question. He was trying his fucking best to make sure this jittery little chihuahua wasn’t going to run away with his tail between his legs, alright?

And lying meant nothing to him.

“I indeed go to school, cucciolo, it would be a felony if I didn’t. Truancy is a very serious crime, I’m shocked that you’d accuse me of such an act.” He said, another sharp grin. He layered his voice in as much sarcasm as he could possibly lay on. Give it a gentle buoyancy of a joke (Jace could understand joking sarcasm, right? Teo hoped that he could, at least).

After all, this was the start of the game. No sense in scaring him off too soon.

“Speaking of school, what are some artists which inspire you?” The idea here, at least, was to get him more comfortable with his presence by talking about something Jace liked… and also keep the conversation off of himself.

And also carefully concealing the idea that Teo genuinely had no fucking clue what department the boy was in. Artists, though, would probably cover the whole thing… right? He was fairly certain in this.

code by valen t.

 

[mogy]

MOOD: Everything is very nice and I have no problems.

OUTFIT: Blue t-shirt and black pants.

LOCATION: The NYE party (Kitchen, Wherever people danced)

basics

MENTIONS:


INT:
Harrowhark (Nikolai), hery (Callum).

tags

TL;DR Life is weird, and Oates wants to get drunk because of it.

tl;dr

oates

„Haha, only me after this cup.“ Oates joked, but at least the curly-haired boy had been self-aware of his drunkenness. The fact that he didn’t usually drink only meant two things; he did not know how quickly alcohol affected him, and he didn’t know when to stop drinking. Not really a good pairing, and would likely resort in a really messed up bathroom later on, but since Nikolai had also been drinking, why shouldn’t have Oates drunk more? Embarrassment had not been a worry for him, plus, alcohol only helped with it, right? As long as he had a fun time with his friend, he would be happy, even if he threw up later.

“Cheers!” Another sip from the cup and it was empty, but all the bottles of beverages just laying around, hey, that had been just an additional sign to make himself another cup. It was New Years, after all.

Just after he’d poured the juice in the cup, finishing off yet another amazing drink for his belly, Nikolai asked the most important question of the evening, and the answer to it was: “Hell yes!” He absolutely did want to dance. The music was groovy, just enough beat to it to shake one’s entire body in style. The two of them would be the cutest couple of friends this party had ever seen. He would make sure of it.

Of course, the curly-haired boy waited for Nikolai to make their drink and sign it to signify it was theirs, which Oates already did before, and after they were ready to go, Oates took Nikolai’s hand and led them to the not-dignified dance floor, where others had already been dancing. It didn’t really matter, though, since Oates could’ve danced everywhere, but the vibrations you got from others dancing in your vicinity was always something irreplaceable.

And so it began.

Time passed differently while dancing, and while that might have been from the alcohol, it was still a different feeling than dancing up on stage. Oates would occasionally make eye contact with Nikolai, especially in the moments where they got close to one another, which had been pretty frequent now that he thinks about it. But it felt friendly, not like anything else; not like anything more, at least to Oates. His hands found their way to Nikolai’s hips and, naturally, they swayed and photosynthesized the sound of the music, only giving them more energy to do, well, more!

The occasional assuring smile to make sure Nikolai was okay and enjoying themselves. The occasional slip up of the legs that made him stumble. The occasional moment he became aware of his breathing and then blinking, but as quick as he became aware of it, he’d be able to ignore it and just focus on the music. It wasn’t dancing at its finest, but it was dancing at its funnest.

And, if a song fit for it came along, Oates would find himself grinding on Nikolai, or the other way around. This was just the way he danced, yes, and it felt amazingly freeing if he was being perfectly honest, because any time he looked around, nobody really cared what he was doing. Nobody cared about his actions because everybody else had things of their own, which wasn’t really the case out in the real world.

“It’s gonna be such a great year!” He yelled, but before he could continue his speech about what was going to happen in the new year, he saw a familiar face approaching as he turned around in a little dancing spin.

“Cal!!” He went in for a quick hug because the music was waiting on him and his groovy moves. “Of course I’m having fun, I’m dancing and I’m tipsy and now my boyfriend is here and it’s going to be so fun! Even more fun!” The obvious bitterness in Callum’s voice, like an airplane, flew right over Oates’ head. He couldn’t usually sense bitterness or sarcasm anyway, and now that he was drunk, well, it was literally impossible for him to.

“Of course I did! I’m just getting started babe!” The boy took Callum’s hand, but not before taking Nikolai’s and pulling them to also dance with Callum. He knew how Nikolai felt about Callum, but come on now, it wasn’t like they actually didn’t want to dance with him. And there was no way Oates would just ditch Nikolai. That wasn’t what friends do.

“Took you time to get here! I was starting to get worried I wouldn’t have anyone to dance with! But Nikki here was soooooo nice and we’ve been dancing for like days! Like minutes! I don’t know!” The curly-haired boy yelled out his sentences even if not particularly necessary. The music seemed louder than it actually was. But throughout his words he made sure to wiggle and move to the beat.

code by valen t.

 

[geminiy]

Kian Phelan

@lockandkian has set their status to:
: D

@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
white counts as a colour, right?

@lockandkian has set their location to:
the party

@lockandkian has mentioned:
Niamh, Damien

@lockandkian has interacted with:
Auguste

@lockandkian has tagged:
qunqun

Kian was sober. That’s right. Sober sober. Eleven days sober, actually. No drugs, no alcohol, no pills, no nothing. Winter Ball had been a fucking disaster and if he was being entirely honest, Kian was ashamed of himself for acting the way he had. Making some poor random dude babysit him as if he was some petulant child, though he wasn’t really that far off if you looked hard enough, had been a very low point in his life.

After the following school day, Kian flushed everything he had. Yes, he knew that you really weren’t supposed to do that but honestly, any other way would have just led him to digging through the trash or something to get them back. No, they needed to be entirely destroyed and that was exactly what Kian did.

He had begun the detox when his date with Niamh rolled around the following week, full on shakes and vomiting and sweating and sleepless nights. Honestly, he had wanted to cancel on her. It wasn’t Niamh’s fault, in fact Kian had been quite excited for their date, he had just felt like total shit. In retrospect, hindsight being 20/20 and all that shit, he should have. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been so damn standoffish and fuck, that kiss was awful. Definitely not on Niamh, though, he had gotten dizzy right before she had leaned in to kiss him, resulting in a rather horrifying nose bump.

After he had left, Kian turned off his phone. Maybe it wasn’t the best response to him entirely fucking up a date but given his track record, Niamh wasn’t about to want to talk to him anyways so really, it didn’t matter.

New Year's Eve was a test of his strength, his first sober party since, well, he had been going to parties. Kian had made himself a promise that he was going to get through the entire evening sober: no drugs, no alcohol, no nothing. If he could do that, maybe he wasn’t such a shit person after all. If he could do that, at least he could silently flip Damien off. Kian was better than whatever monster Damien had made him out to be and this was going to prove it.

Of course, not long after being at this party, his plan went out the window as his lord and saviour, none other than the Augmiester, walked directly into him. Full force, kapow.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry for-” Auguste’s voice spoke before suddenly stopping as his eyes landed on Kian’s awkwardly smiling face. “Oh it’s you... hey.

Kian nodded, swallowing slightly as he waved a hand to give a quick wave, his other hand swirling the Pepsi in his cup, the liquid giving a soft fizz in response. “It is. Me, I mean. Hi.”

“... you seem… well.” Auguste continued to speak, his voice only deepening the strange grin on Kian’s face. Play it cool, buddy, you gotta play it cool. “... How’s your break been?”

Shrugging, Kian leaned against the pillar behind him and stared down into the cup. “It’s, uh, been a break. Went home for a bit to see the fam. Kinda missed being here though, Healdsberg is pretty quiet around Christmas time. Everyone else wants to get out, go see something besides hippies and a beach.” Kian laughed half-heartedly at his own joke, clearing his throat when he realized that it really hadn’t been that funny. “Um, how about you? Your break, I mean. I hope you had a good Christmas. Not that you have to, of course, the holidays are real tough. I get it.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Jackie Dupont

@jaccqueline has set her status to:

Mood



@jaccqueline has set her outfit to:

Outfit



@jaccqueline has set her location to:

the apartment



@jaccqueline has mentioned:

n/a



@jaccqueline has interacted with:

ian, noah, drake



@jaccqueline has tagged:

PenguinFox mogy Winona

Jackie had been through a lot of trouble in her life. As a chronic people pleaser and naturally nominated mother of every friend group she had ever been in, Jackie was known as the person to go to when life got tough and problems arose that needed solving. Typically, she was able to deal with them without much thought: fix the friendship, help the friend study, volunteer to run the food drive, work the extra shift, beat the shit out of the guy who hurt Bella. You know, the typical things.

What Jackie was not good at, however, was setting up her apartment to host people that she wasn’t expecting. Playing a polite hostess was usually Bella’s job but with her sister freshly involved in some serious high school drama (not that Jackie was surprised), she was on her own on this one.

So there Jacqueline was in the non-perishable grocery aisle of her local big box store, staring at the rows of snacks that she was attempting to stock up on. Planning for her original two guests had been easy enough. She knew what Ian liked, Noah was almost just as easy. But these two new people, Raven and Mason, were causing her problems. Okay, maybe not Raven because at least Raven had answered her damn question about food preferences and allergies. No, it was mostly this Mason character that was giving her a damn headache.

Jackie scoffed as she put a box of crackers into the cart to go along with the brie she was planning on baking when she got home. Fuck him, he could starve. It sounded like a whole lot of Not a Jacqueline Problem.

With a cart of food and supplies (yes, toothpaste, skincare, sheets, and pretty much anything else you could think of included in case someone inevitably forgot something), Jackie checked out, loaded half the store into the back of her rusty pickup truck, and began to make her way home. Her eyes habitually flickered over to the clock, keeping a close eye on the time. She had two hours before Ian, Noah, and the gang were due in, that would be plenty of time to set up.

Of course she hit traffic, lowering her available time from two hours to just under an hour and a half.

Then, as she pulled up outside of the apartment complex to pull into the parking lot around the back of the building, there was some stupid van parked right in the middle of the road with no one inside of it. Wonderful. Jackie made an attempt to pull around but stopped, tapping her fingers in pure annoyance on her steering wheel. Most of that annoyance dissipated when two people returned from the apartment building, reaching into the back seat to free a child from their car seat. They looked a little… young to be parents, no wonder they had seemingly forgotten their kid in the back seat.

With the van now moved, Jackie pulled into her assigned parking spot and loaded up her arms with the grocery bags. Just over an hour left. She could do this. Jamming her finger into the elevator call button, Jackie waited… and waited… and waited.

“Sorry, miss, seems to be that the elevator is out of service.” A piece of paper slapped onto the elevator doors in front of her by the overly smelly, far too sweaty maintenance guy named Harry. Jackie forced a pained expression on her face as she readjusted the groceries. Harry’s hand offered her a pat on her shoulder. “Good luck getting all that up the stairs. This really isn’t your day.”

Jackie sighed, smile turning to a deadly scowl as the man turned tail and scuttled off down the hall, pants nearly sagging off his hips before he gave a little jump and a tug of the belt loops to get his pants back up to covering ass crack territory. He wasn’t wrong, this really wasn’t Jackie’s day.

Up the six flights of stairs Jackie went, the entire time being openly thankful for the endless hours spent in the gym to lighten the task slightly. Still, by the time she reached her floor, her legs had begun to burn and a thin layer of sweat had settled on her forehead. Forty five minutes, at least she’d have time for a shower before everyone got there. Struggling the door to the sixth floor open with her hip (failing twice, one of which had the door springing back to slam shut on her foot), Jackie pushed through and into the hallway, her eyes settling on the trio gathered outside of her door.

Fuck.

“Oh mon Dieu,” Jackie huffed, once again readjusting the countless bags on her arms, “you are early! I am so sorry I am late, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

Jackie’s gaze floated from Noah, who was closest to the stairwell, to the person just behind him. Ian. Immediately, her face broke out into a smile and she fought the urge to whip the bags at the ground and run at him full force. If there weren’t eggs in one of those bags, she likely would have. Instead, she began walking towards the group at a rushed pace. The faster she could get inside, the faster she could welcome Ian with open arms.

Walking past the boys, Jackie reached into her pocket to pull out the key and twisted the door open, pushing it wider so that the three could head inside

Reaching into her pocket, Jackie fished out the keys and twisted open the door, pushing it open for everyone to head inside before she followed them in.

Carefully kicking off her shoes, Jackie made her way over to the black kitchen table and rested the groceries down. Wrestling her coat off to hang it over the back of the chair, Jackie turned around and paused, looking over the people in front of her. Ian and Noah, she recognized, but the person beside them…

“I’m sorry,” Jackie spoke, squinting slightly to get a better look at him. “Who are you? And where is the other one, umm, Raven?”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[qunqun]

MOOD: .... ugh.

OUTFIT: Am I partying correctly?

LOCATION: Chas's place

basics

MENTIONS:
Chas

INT:
Grungy Gremlin Winona

tags

TL;DR 1 point for not immediately pissing her off. Go team.

tl;dr

Katya

Katya stared at her host’s boyfriend.

No. Apparently he did not get the hint. Who could’ve guessed.

And now they were going to play the “guess where the foreign chick is from” game.

Hooray.

Yeah this totally wasn’t going to end in her being offended. She crossed her arms as he thought really hard about trying to guess her accent.

You better not get it wrong, пиндос.

“.... Yes I am Ukrainian.” Okay, she was a little bit impressed that he’d gotten that one right. Though, she suspected that it was more a wild guess on his part. Didn’t seem like the type to know the specific nitty gritty of the different countries in eastern Europe.

“Ah, you went there? I think you would like to go back, no? There is a… subsection of the boys in my country who climb abandoned buildings as high as they can go. Very dangerous, but apparently the sights are very beautiful. There are a lot of places here instead of the rest of the world due to the political strife.” Katya said, taking but the smallest of polite sips of her vodka. Again, not really usually the one to drink. Usually more to fake it but, something said that if she was going to be playing nice tonight to this… human then she was going to need little dips of alcohol here in there.

After all, she couldn’t go around and piss off this guy, now could she? She couldn’t very well make a scene at this party, lest she incur the wrath of her host. That type of thing would be irreparably rude. Very hard to get into people’s good graces after that.

Though, the boy had been bullied quite extensively on Twitter maybe he was in fact hated by the mass- again. The boyfriend of the host. Couldn’t be mean to him.

So, she was going to humor this child (who was definitely older than her) in what was ostensibly going to be a small dip of folly on her end.

The icy frostiness of her opening greeting though, did not in fact melt away. Just because she was playing nice didn’t mean that she was going to be going out of her way to make this anything more than neutrally pleasant of a smalltalk conversation.

“What was your favorite place while you were on tour?”

code by valen t.

 

[Soap]

MOOD: ...

OUTFIT:
Classy.
​

INFO

LOCATION:
NYE party

WITH: Cappie

MENTION: Cami, Casey, Mik.​

ACTIVITY

0k_mang0

TAGS

Chanel Clairmont

— Oh No

Twelve days.

Twelve days since the ball, twelve days since the kiss, and in all of twelve days, Chanel has been losing her mind more and more each passing day.

Why, you ask?

Let’s say it’s fear.

Fear of getting hurt? Fear of… it not working out?

Maybe he just wasn’t the guy for her.

There was so many reasons why she could’ve been afraid, sure, she didn’t understand him sometimes… but that’s not why she’s—

She’s even told him!

Well, not the real reason.

But she’s already admitted that he scares her, it’s quite obvious she likes him, her lips was pressed up against his for a few too many seconds to simply say:

I don’t like you.

So, do you know what she did?

She broke off the kiss and she walked away.

No, she didn’t run— she calmly, and briskly removed herself from the situation she realized that she wanted nothing to do with at that particular moment.

“So, if you like him— what’s the problem?” A voice said, coming from the phone that was propped up on a stand.

Chanel smoothed the dress out before exiting the closet, fumbling with the back of an earring as she was struggling to put it on.

“What isn’t the problem? Why aren’t you telling me this is a bad idea?”

Exactly! Why?

Her family was nuts.

Normally she wouldn’t use the word nuts to describe just about anything but right now? It felt like a pretty good choice.

“Because you don’t need a mentor, here Nellie! You’re only young once. Kiss the guy. Maybe even f—“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!”

Zoe put a singular hand up in defense, a cheeky smile on her face.

Yes, it was the Zoe Lockwood on the phone.

Crazy! Almost as if the two blondes were related!

“As much as I agree with the whole… actors shouldn’t have distractions… Chanel, I really think you need one. I love you, I love your passion and your work ethic! But…”

Chanel paused, tying a strap to a heel when she looked up, waiting for Zoe to finish her sentence.

“There’s more to life than just your career.”

…

She continued, finishing up the black heel with a bow in the back to match the other.

“And don’t wear those, they look tacky. Wear the Louboutins from last year’s premiere.”

Which premiere?

There was so many!
__

After a facetime argument with Zoe, Chanel arrived at the penthouse, the doors were opened for her and the elevator had brought her up to the party already in play.

No, she didn’t want to come.

She didn’t feel like making mindless small talk with intoxicated individuals that made her want to—

She has class, best not finish that sentence.

Of course, there was a reason why she was here… the most common reason for just about anything Chanel did against her will.

Her siblings.

Casey & Camile has convinced her to go, not to mention Mikaela… being a little… worrisome with her actions lately, this time— Chanel would be there if Mik decided to kiss anyone else drunkenly.

A look around the room and Chanel already wanted to leave.

It… was rare for her to feel like an outcast, believe it or not.

Chanel usually adapted to the environment around her— perks of being an actress, she knew how to mimic her peers perfectly.

Maybe that’s how she’s made it so far already, she mimicked the adults perfectly, she was mature for her age.

Producers, writers, directors, celebrities— it was easy to strike up conversation and suddenly they were laughing along with her in the most pretentious manner.

These were… just high school students.

Chanel probably could’ve tried hard enough to just be a kid, for tonight.

But why attempt to be something she wasn’t?

“Ohmigosh, Chanel?”

The blonde turned towards…

A complete stranger.

Fantastic.

“We literally take history together! Isn’t that so cool?”

Was this her attempt… at conversation? An excuse to talk to her? Maybe Chanel was just stressed, but this was pathetic.

“Did you happen to get last week’s notes?” The girl gently placed an arm on her shoulder and Chanel rose an eyebrow, her gaze falling to the contact and back towards the stranger.

…

Why did people obsessed with her always feel the need to touch?

It’s fine. It was fine.

She bit her tongue.

“No, I didn’t, I apologize— if you’ll excuse me…”

“Oh! I’m absolutely in love with your shoes, where did you get them?”

Someplace you couldn’t afford, probably.

Relax, Chanel.

The girl just asked you a question.

The blonde forced a smile, her gaze wandering around the room and she caught eyes with…

The only person in this room who wasn’t a stranger.

She’d been avoiding him for…

Oh! Right.

Twelve days.

…

She might’ve wanted to run away, tear her gaze from his, but she remained in place and her eyes were locked on his.

While the girl’s head was turned, Chanel saw this as an opportunity to get out of the conversation.

“I have—“

“But you didn’t tell me…” the girl’s voice continued to talk about… shoes?

Who knows.

Chanel wasn’t even listening at this point, and clearly she was desperate enough to lock eyes with Cappie for the second time and mouth.

‘Help me.’

code by valen t.

 

[qunqun]

MOOD:
Awkward

OUTFIT:
Giggle at a funeral

LOCATION:
Apartment

basics

MENTIONS:



INT:
Kian geminiy

tags

TL;DR: Don't hate me please.

tl;dr

Auguste

Auguste wasn’t really the type for drugs. He liked smoking a blunt every now and then, but that was more of an anxiety every now and then type of thing to help him relax or go to sleep.

That being said, he was way too sober for this conversation.

He didn’t really… know anything about Kian’s life, other than he was harboring some pretty strong feelings for his friend and that he was a bit of a druggie.

Despite that, he felt a certain fondness for the guy. He’d walked him home, told him off for trying to run out in the middle of the street.

Bonding time.

So yeah, getting to know Sober Kian was a bit of a trip to be completely honest. He seemed so… nervous.

Which was hilarious in comparison to Druggie Kian who’d been sobbing into his shoulder about whatever the fuck he’d been blubbering about.

Also, where the fuck was Healdsberg?

“Yeah, I see.” He said, giving a little chuckle to the joke(?) that Kian had told.

A pause.

How the fuck was he supposed to answer that he was very French, and he was here instead of celebrating with his family that tots loved him and was tots alive?

Easy.

Lies and manipulation, half-truths here and there… Yeah he was a fucking liar.

“It was… uneventful” He’d laid in his bed getting high on weed and wishing that he had someone to spend Christmas with, familial, platonic, or otherwise. That was pretty much the epitome of a depressingly uneventful Christmas, right?

He offered no more context on that.

“... Might light up later, you in?” Yeah, that’s something to offer a druggie, right? Drugs? Weed? Maybe that would be too mild a substance… Oh well, it was worth a shot.

Wait.

He’s sober right now. Probably for a reason…

Did that mean that that was a once in a while thing? Was that a “I tried drugs once” type of situation? I have something important later so I won’t get high right now thing?

Oh no what if he thinks that Auguste is trying to peer pressure him into drugs that would be bad he’d hate him forever and then Auguste was going to die.

How was Auguste going to die? Well. Good question. He sure as fuck didn’t know, but he was too busy panicking over the idea of accidentally peer pressuring someone into doing drugs to actually think reasonably.

A couple of blinks as he processed this new wave of panic

And then out from Auguste’s mouth poured… syllables.

Yep. Those were syllables.

Vaguely French-English sounding syllables that sounded vaguely like he was trying to say a bunch of words really quick, but didn't make sense in either language.

He was doing a great job.

code by valen t.

 

[0k_mang0]

MOOD:
just fine

OUTFIT:
semi-casual cappie
​

INFO

LOCATION:
NYE party

WITH: chanel

MENTION: eli, casey, ian, chas​

ACTIVITY

Soap

TAGS

cappie

— Dancing in the Moonlight

The kiss with Chanel had left his feelings muddled. He couldn’t come up with a solid conclusion except one, but it wasn’t that simple. The more he thought about it, the more confused he felt, maybe a little frustrated, too, and the more he felt he needed to talk to Chanel about it. But that wasn’t easy either.

Since the winter ball, Chanel avoided him, barely exchanging more than a single word or making any eye contact with him during their shared classes, in between classes, and didn’t meet him at lunch hour, despite the fact one of her text messages said she would see him at lunch (maybe, being the keyword).

He tried texting her about the kiss, but she flat-out ignored it, dodged it with excuses of business-related calls, which he wasn’t sure were real or not, and school work. It annoyed him more than it should, and Cappie was usually the annoying one of the two of them.

She lied to him about calling exterminators coming to clean up her house of pests that weren’t actually there. Cappie nearly believed her—he wanted to believe her—but then Casey told him she was lying. Besides his odd, most-likely-fake relationship with Chas, Casey had never given Cappie any reason not to be trusted. He just didn’t seem like the deceitful type.

His best bros, Ian and Eli, advised him to give her space for a week, and he did, turning his attention to enjoying the holiday break as stress-free as possible. Next Tuesday, a few days after Christmas, he went to her house, but she wasn’t there by the time he arrived—either she went out somewhere in town or she hid in the house after seeing him outside through a window, pretending she wasn’t there. When it felt like he was standing outside her door a bit too long, he left the property feeling dejected.

He just wanted to talk to her. They had to talk about it sooner or later.

And yeah, he missed talking to her, too, when things weren’t so awkward between them.

So, why was he at the New Year’s Eve party? Because it was the best opportunity to confront Chanel. Cappie asked Casey to make sure she went to the party, too—Chanel has to go, to look out for her siblings. It was a perfect plan. Who knew Cappie could be so crafty?

(Ignore the fact that this was also a little selfish of him, because he was basically exploiting her protective sister nature.)

He arrived at the apartment with his housemates. He chilled with them for a while before wandering on his own, exploring around. As usual in parties, he chatted and laughed with several random guests, ate some snacks, drank a bit. He was still having fun as he did at any party, but not the fulfilling kind. The party wasn’t really his main focus tonight.

Vibing along with the music, regardless of the tempo or what song was playing, Cappie wandered to the table with an assortment of drinks and noticed two wine bottles in front of him. Chanel liked wine, he remembered. What kind, he had no idea; it was never specified, but she told him she preferred pinot noir, which was one of the options he was seeing.

He picked up the bottle, and before he could open it and pick up a cup, Cappie glanced around him and saw her across the room. Under normal circumstances, he probably would’ve been distracted with admiring her stylish appearance a little longer if he hadn’t noticed her uncomfortable body language.

He was very close to being tipsy, but he knew what she was mouthing to him. Help me.

With an unopened pinot noir and corkscrew in hand, Cappie made his way over there. A friendly smile plastered on his face as if the current issues he was having didn’t exist. He greeted the two girls and, a second later, put all of his attention to Chanel, immediately forgetting the other one was there.

“Y’know, you promised me a spot on the dancefloor. Let’s go before they finished my favorite song. Lovely shoes, by the way.” His favorite song wasn’t playing, nor were they actually going to dance, especially not while holding a wine bottle and corkscrew.

Before their classmate could react, Cappie looped his free arm around Chanel’s and led her away without a second thought. They weaved around passing party guests, walked past the dancefloor. He paused for a few seconds to consider which way to go until he recognized the doors to the balcony. Perfect, nobody was going there.

Once they were on the other side, he let go of Chanel and closed the doors.

“I’m almost surprised no one’s out here admiring this awesome view,” he said and turned to her, his lips tugging a relaxed small smile. “Hi.”

code by valen t.

 

[Soap]

MOOD: ...

OUTFIT:
Just somethin'
​

INFO

LOCATION:
NYE party

WITH: Adri

MENTION: Gen​

ACTIVITY

Winona

TAGS

Livanna Moore

—Breathe

The last person she wanted to talk to had walked up to her.

Liv didn’t want to be mean.

Liv didn’t want to talk, period.

So maybe that’s why she was silent while Adriane continued to talk badly about Nickie.

This wasn’t a conversation she had the energy to entertain.

Adriane wasn’t her friend. Adriane was someone who… liked to say… things to knock other people down. Adriane went with her girlfriend to Italy and did probably anything and everything.
Was that what this was?

Was Adriane jealous?

Was… she…

See, this was usually a problem with Liv. She tried to see the ‘best’ in everyone– she tried to find a reason why they were the way they were.

Livanna shifted, balancing on the heels of her boots and averting her gaze from Adriane’s.

So, here she was, trying to understand why Adriane hated her so much. She guessed… she understood in some sense. Liv wasn’t really the greatest person. She was that girl who ruined everything for everyone at some point in time, she was… an inconvenience. A liability.
But Adriane didn’t know all of that, did she?

So, was she jealous?

Maybe she liked Gen.

Who wouldn’t, right?

"Not surprised that Gen seems to give you so much of her time. She's really into the disasters that aren't going to make it past eighteen, hmm?"

That’s when she looked at her and Liv had a really hard time looking away.

She couldn’t question it.

She shouldn’t give in and ask why, she shouldn’t pay this any mind.

“Didn’t you and Gen…?”

That’s a rabbit hole you don’t wanna go down Liv.

Of course she didn’t want to hear about that, but if Adriane was talking about disasters… well, let’s be honest. Adriane wasn’t really a disaster. It was just Liv’s terrible attempt to get the conversation off of herself and direct it towards her.

…

“Don’t you have… party… stuff to do?”

Anything else better to do than just to sit here and spit meaningless words?

They probably weren’t meaningless, though.

No, no.

They were.

Adriane didn’t even know Liv, she was just…

what? Saying what everyone was thinking?

“Why are you even talking to me?”

code by valen t.

 

[Xed]

Spencer Gray

TW: mention of a past suicide

New Year’s Eve.

The end of the year. Painfully cold and blindingly bright.

Like that one movie he saw once with the blinding light of the train that enveloped the screen and the character that had stood in its path.

Everything.

All Spencer wanted to do was stay at home in a dark corner of his room and just… just welcome the end of the year in darkness. Yet here he was, at some party in some place. He didn’t really know anymore. The music was mind-numbingly loud and the lights disorientingly bright. Everyone around him had smiles plastered on their faces, cheering and celebrating as they waited for the hours to tick down.

It was like an out of body experience. Alcohol was flowing but all Spencer could see was pools of blood and water, and the laughter and cheer that filled the air transformed to tears and wails of anguish in his ears.

Because the New Year, this time of celebration and partying, when people got drunk out of their minds and danced late into the night, was the night that Sheryl took her own life.

And he had been at one of those New Year Celebrations instead of her side.

Spencer tossed back the contents of a drink someone had handed him earlier and he had absentmindedly taken. His throat burned with the sickening taste of overpowering alcohol but he finished it off and tossed the empty cup into a nearby bin.

Just one cup. That was all he would have. He needed it, to get through the night and the memories that were burning their way to the surface.

He didn’t want to be here. Amongst happy party goers locked deep in a mood of celebration. It was like he was at the concert again, trapped in the after party, kept away from the exit by the endless throng of people urging him to party the night away, all while back in the dark, empty quiet of her room, his girlfriend was alone and bleeding to death.

Shit.

He couldn’t go there. Forgetting everything and partying was wrong but if he got stuck in that rabbit hole again and let him swallow it up, his family would worry. He’d be making their lives miserable again. He couldn’t do that, that was why he was here, trying to pretend that he was ok, that he wasn’t being drowned and dragged under that pool of blood and water he had walked in on last year, but attempting to pull off this balancing act, he was starting to suffocate.

He needed a distraction, something small enough to just pull him out a little, give him a little air. Something, anything.

“Heyy. I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

Spencer almost didn’t hear her over the noise of the crowd and his thoughts, but he did, and he turned to see Beth, standing in front of him, a bright smile on his face.

“Hey.” He managed weakly, attempting to piece together a smile on his face that could hide the turmoil in his heart.

“I’m good.” That was a lie. “You enjoying yourself?”

mood
smile

location
NYE Party

outfit
comfy and easy

playing...
WONDER

by Shawn Mendes​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Beth

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Harrowhark]

MOOD: Whoops...

OUTFIT: Slutting it up

LOCATION: Party

basics

INT:
Oates mogy Callum hery

tags

TL;DR got drunk became a homewrecker... kinda

tl;dr

Nikolai

It wasn’t hard to believe Oates might embarrass himself if he kept drinking. He was already drunk and it looked like this was just the beginning. Nikolai didn’t mind, it was easier to let go when everyone else was also drunk. “Cheers,” they smiled at their increasingly drunk friend. And another drink… are you sure Oatey? Nothing she could help seeing as it was already gone. No sooner had Nikolai put their cup down before he pulled them onto the dance floor.

For once, Nikolai wasn’t too worried about how bad their dancing was. Oates was doing… whatever he was doing, and they just let it happen. Was that the most morally sound decision? Maybe not, especially if you asked the boyfriend, but it was a fucking party. Live a little! Callum shouldn’t be such a wet blanket anyway. Hands found the small of Oates back and, on more than one occasion, caught him when he tripped up. See? She was protecting him. That uptight jerk should be grateful. Anyone else might let him fall.

With every song more alcohol made its way into Nikolai’s brain. Their tolerance was higher than Oates, but with how fast they’d drank and how little they’d eaten today, it hardly mattered. So when Oates grinded on them, they reciprocated instead of pushing him back. Nikolai was not a homewrecker, but this home had always been easy to wreck. Though they tried to respect Callum’s boundaries, they already crossed the line so many times. But if his boyfriend was so willing to egg them on, were they really the one in the wrong here?

It took a moment to register Oates' words, but by the time Nikolai had, someone had stepped between them. Okay buddy, this isn’t a free for all, move along. When blue eyes met their own, she knew she’d fucked up.

Callum shouldn’t be here. Was there any truth to that statement? Callum didn’t like parties. Callum hadn’t been with Oates. Callum wouldn’t come to a party with Oates and leave him unattended. Callum would not come separately from Oates. All sound logic. So why in the actual fuck was Callum here now?

Hesitantly Nikolai removed their hands from Oates. All that shit about this being perfectly fine vanished from their brain. Their lungs grew tight as they searched Callum for any physical signs of anger: clenched fist, shaking, flared nostrils, anything that would signify a physical fight. Despite the signs lacking, Nikolai’s body still tensed up. There wasn’t a world where Callum wouldn’t hit them for this.

The moment Oates reached out, she flinched backwards. Normally those reactions were held back, but tonight there was no holding back, even winces they'd rather no one see. It was just Oates. What could he even do to them if he tried? Nikolai let him grab her hand, but this was… wow… really awkward. They tried not to make eye contact with Callum, but it was impossible not to look at him. Shit, he must really want to hit them. The worst part was, Nikolai couldn’t even blame the guy.

“Nikki here was soooooo nice and we’ve been dancing for like days! Like minutes! I don’t know!” God, Oates, please stop talking. Please, please say less. Nikolai didn't want to look at Callum and they couldn’t look at Oates, so they settled for watching the floor. Yes, so interesting, lovely tile you have here, Adriane. Is this real granite? Lovely, it compliments your home so well.

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

MOOD: jelith

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: bitch manor

basics

MENTIONS:
n/a
INT:
mogy (Oates)
Harrowhark (Nikolai)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

Callum knew he had an intense stare. He didn't choose to have light blue eyes and an RBF, but he knew what he was doing when he stared down the pair of dancers in front of him. In fact, it was a sufficient warning to make brief eye contact with Nikolai, whose hands drifted with hesitation away from Oates' back. Or, rather, the back of Callum's boyfriend.

The pale, ashen senior did not look back at Oates just yet. His lips parted to speak, curled with contempt for this trespasser of relationship boundaries. "Who are you again?" His tone was firm and cold, but monotonal enough to potentially interpret as harmless. In the darkness, he could just barely see a sign of uncertainty from Nikolai, the guilty party entrenched in a missed attempt at homewrecking.

With a huff, Callum left his gaze on them for a moment longer, then ripped it away and squeezed Oates back in a hug. A hand slid onto the shorter of the three's upper back, rubbing it affectionately. Sorry he took so long to come to the rescue, but they could finally get away now. Everything would be okay.

But now Callum was being jerked away, and to his side the friend followed their movement. Now, they were dancing as a trio, but it was clear who the third wheel was. Callum let out a small hmph, the corner of his lips rising to a smirk. This Nikki character had their eyes trained on their feet, a habit most unbecoming of a supposedly professional dancer. Victory sure was sweet.

Every chance he got, Callum locked them in eye contact, but not with the seething anger one may picture. The beauty in his stare was that there was no need for any furrowed brows or squinted eyes, nor any obvious emotion written on his face. Instead, a simple look sent the most obvious message of all: Callum wanted Nikki gone, and they didn't belong here. In fact, they looked like a complete loner idiot latching onto someone's boyfriend at Chas, Adriane, and JJ's big New Year's party. Everyone knew that no one was safe from prying eyes at these big, yearly events.

Callum's eyes lingered every so often on Oates, especially as he realized that he should indulge his boyfriend with a proper round of dance before the tension cut through the fog in his mind. Moving seamlessly with the beat, the raven-haired boy slunk even closer to Oates, gripping at his waist. Unknowingly, his furious rigor mortis claws dug a bit too deep into the boy's tender flesh.

But his attention never left Nikolai. "Thanks for watching my boyfriend," he joked dryly, his quiet voice hardly matching the music's volume, "I know he can get a little carried away sometimes." When the context of your words is already laced with disdain, there's not even any need for shouting or bared teeth. His nails dug in deeper, now beginning to tremble. The hostility was all Callum would bother to manage, because he would never lift a finger to fight.

Oates may have considered him a pacifist, but he was just lazy. He wondered what Nikki thought his next move would be.

"Are you alone here?" he asked innocently, drawing away from Oates to place a cold hand on their shoulder. There was no firmness, nor digging nails. Just the fear he could only hope to instill through light touch. His fingertips had a habit of wiping out all life they came into contact with, the only exception being Oates and his rat dog.

He had stopped dancing at all at that point. It was just Callum standing, staring, judging. "Drinks are that way." He pointed a finger out of the room, the opposite direction of the table all of the liquor sat at. If Callum turned around, he could have seen a redhead hunched over the table, just about ready to either puke or burst into song.

code by valen t.

 

[Xed]

Mikaela Ainsley

PSA. In case you didn’t know, it was Mikaela’s birthday. Well technically her actual birthday was yesterday, the 30th of December, but because it was just one day before New Year’s Eve, the celebration basically carried over so it was still her birthday. I know. Unbelievably beautiful logic right?

Anyway back to the whole thing about today also being her birthday, it meant she could do whatever she wanted and party however hard she wanted. Birthdays were meant to be used like that, the perfect excuse for any and all wild, typically unacceptable behaviour. And let’s face it, she needed it, deserved it.

Winter ball had been absolutely lovely, until the very, very end, where, in her drunken stupor, she’d managed to turn a great night of hard partying without having to worry about any watchful eyes (namely Chanel’s), into a complete and utter disaster.

Why?

Because. She. Kissed. Eli.

In. Front. Of. Cami.

While. They. Were. On. A. Date.

Definitely up there amongst her worse screw ups, and she had quite a number collected since she got put out of skating for good.

Thanks to that she’d spent the past two weeks avoiding Cami like the plague, and thankfully for her, all was quiet on the front until well, her phone buzzed, not too long ago, and there, waiting in her inbox was a message from Chanel that screamed.

“You kissed Eli?!”

Which in turn made her go “Oh fuck.”

What followed that little line was a series of messages that were basically lies about how she didn’t remember a thing about the incident because she was dead drunk and more lies about her drinking, all of which ended with her attempting to assure Chanel she was perfectly fine and receiving no response which, left her a little on edge.

She had no idea what the other girl was thinking. Did she buy her story, was she dubious? Suspicious? That lack of reply left her with no clues and it was starting to mess with her ability to enjoy herself at this party and she desperately needed to enjoy herself.

For now, she was just going to assume that the silence meant Chanel believed her enough but just didn’t want to respond. Which meant she was in the clear (well not really but just let her believe that for a few more hours) and could go party hard like people were supposed to on New Year’s Eve.

If trouble cropped up again, well, she’d deal with that if it came when it came. Anyway for now, she needed to find her party buddy, after all you couldn’t party hard without a party buddy and she had just the person.

Mikaela finished off the drink she’d been sipping, her third, maybe fourth glass, she’d kinda lost count, and then swept off into the crowd with a big grin on her face, eyes locked on one of the many figures in the room.

“JOJO BEAR!” Mikaela threw her arms around the pint sized ball of fun and pulled her into a tight hug.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” She released Josie as she spoke, taking not of the flush on her face as a wide grin spread across her own.

“Ready to have some real fun?”

mood
party hour

location
NYE Party

outfit
party dress

playing...
song title here

by artist here​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Josie

tags
jasmyn

º º code by ditto º º

 

[_em_]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  sure.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  what she's wearing...xxx

  
  
  
  

  click here
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  nye party
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  dear.szmm
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

june

-the actress-

June didn’t drink; she’d never touched a drop of alcohol in her life. But somewhere in the time between getting out of the car and Niamh confidently guiding her through the crowd, she decided it might not be a bad day to start. She took the shot glass, knocking it back just as everyone around her was doing, and immediately started coughing.

“God, how do you drink this stuff-”

June was brought back to her senses as Niamh leaned in, “Do you recognise anyone?”

She hadn’t noticed her hacking up a lung, then. Maybe that was for the best.

“Not really…” June admitted, becoming once again astounded at how Niamh had tricked her into thinking she practically owned the place. There was something addictive to the way she just didn’t seem to care…about anything. Or anyone. It was why June had been hanging out with her so much, and why she had followed her so blindly to the party.

But now knowing that neither of them knew anyone? She wanted to leave. Leaving meant going home, though, which didn’t mean anything good at the moment, and it was that train of thought that led her to noticing the classic warm sensation from the alcohol that she’d heard so much about.

Something clicked inside her, then. Something changed- and suddenly alcohol didn’t seem as poisonous as she once thought.

She pushed her glass towards Niamh resolutely, “Pour me another?”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Winona]

Adriane Holloway

TW: Adri a bitch, some drug mentions and shit

"Oh," Adriane responded, "I am doing party stuff. It's called taking out the trash, and well..." her lips curled back into a slight look of disgust as she let her gaze wander up and down Liv's frame, and then she let out a small scoff, rolling her eyes and looking away from the other girl.

"I mean, look at you," she said with a sigh. "We're at a party, not a funeral... unless you're dressed like that because you're mourning your relationship or whatever with Gen? After all, why would she want to be with you? Girls like Gen," now, Adriane let her icy blue gaze settle back on Liv. "They like girls with class -- not someone that looks like they just rolled out of the dumpster with a needle sticking out of their arm."

Did Adriane necessarily have an issue with Liv? Well, no. She hardly even knew the junkie musician, but here she was, anyway. Liv was an easy target -- that's why she was really here, and Adriane knew that she couldn't hurt Gen, but she could hurt Liv, so maybe in a way... yeah, this was definitely her getting back at Gen.

And oh, she wasn't even close to done.

"And, I'm sorry, but is this velvet?" Adriane giggled, a cold smile stretching across her face as she reached out a hand to touch the fabric on Liv's arm. "Sweetie, you're a girl. Not a shitty velvet couch in your grandma's creepy basement. Toss out the dress and put on something actually worth your time and money. There's a reason that velvet went out of style years ago and hasn't made a return. It's ugly. Like you."

Was Liv going to cry? God, Adriane hoped she did.

mood
ugh

location
her house, duh

outfit
clothes

playing...
Fuck You

by Lily Allen​

mentions
Gen, Nickie

interactions
Liv

tags
Soap

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

RAVEN RIVERA​

“Does it matter? You’re here now.”

He knew what she meant, he knew she wasn’t just asking about the damn articles, the stupid stories, the stupid words on a piece of paper that made no difference,

although in a way… she guessed it did, because she wouldn’t be here without them— but she wouldn’t be here without him either.

It just mattered to Raven, to have an actual reason—

…

The brunette exhaled through her nose, softly shaking her head.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It doesn’t matter.”

Nothing ever did, it seemed.

It was funny to have second thoughts about coming along as soon as she got here.

Like I said, Raven’s adaptable to change…

But that doesn’t make it any less scarier… in a few minutes, they’d walk in there and that’d be that.

It’d be nice to have a fresh start, she’s said it before, but there was something about starting new in a different place that’d only brought up memories, deja-vu in a sense.

Because Raven’s done this already, all of it

She just hoped that in a few years it wouldn’t go all to shit again.

A huff of breath escaped her, clearly amused by her own thoughts as she stole a glance at him, taking in his features.

Hey, Mason? Don’t die.

Imagine the look on his face if she would’ve said that.

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

‘I’m not gonna fuckin’ die.’

‘Stupid fuckin—‘

He’d say something along those lines, but he’d probably look at her with those fucking eyes.

Y’know, the casual— ‘I’m worried about you, but I won’t say it’ eyes.

Her gaze drifted to a playground across the street and Raven nudged him gently, tilting her head in the direction.

“I bet you the swings are actually bolted into the ground around here.”

Too bad Ari was asleep.

That was the thing about kids like her, though.

Annoyingly adorable enough so when they finally shut up and knocked out, you wanted to wake them up just to give them attention.

And Raven was never like that with kids, if anything she always thought she was pretty bad with them.

But Ari was an exception.

Raven opened the door for Mason, over exaggerating a bow with a grin slowly spreading onto her face.

“Ladies first.” She said, following behind him.

The lobby of the building was pretty much everything she expected, marble floors, someone sitting across from a desk— seemed a little snooty, maybe a bit depressed but it was LA so… Raven wasn’t really surprised.

Wasn’t gonna judge her— it was simply just an observation.

A pamphlet caught her eye and she grabbed one, flipping through the famous amusement park Mason was so keen on not going to.

Sometimes— no, no… most of the time he was like one of those… cliche, grumpy, ‘get off my lawn’ old men.

“Think she’s gonna have rules? One of those… don’t bring anyone home kinda things?”

Raven cocked a brow, making her way to the elevator and pressing a button just to realize the paper messily taped to the wall.

OUT OF ORDER

“Oh, fantastic. Come on, Rivera. Time to get your cardio on.”

Just for reference, Raven totally stopped herself from slapping his ass.

What?

Men do it all the time in basketball.

What’s the big deal if Raven did it?

Or was it football?

God, she fucking hated football.

There was a pretty hefty amount of steps they’d have to climb, but what was she gonna do?

Complain?

That was Mason’s job.

“I don’t know the room arrangements yet, but if you ever have a nightmare… I gotchu.”

mood
Hmph.

location
the apartment building

outfit
car clothes

playing...
high hopes

by kodaline​

mentions
Jackie

interactions
Mason

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[dear.szmm]

unimpressed

lillian kimura

“It was only a question,” Lillian frowned. “You don’t need to get so mad over it.”

She knew Rox would get mad over it – that’s half the reason why she asked. Every so often she had to exert a little control to confirm that she still had some. She wasn’t accusing Rox of anything, not at all, and she didn’t think she was being overly dramatic. Clearly Rox hadn’t made that much of an effort as it still came across to Lillian like she didn’t give a shit; sure, they spent a time together because it was Christmas, but there wasn’t a huge increase by any means. She was sort of pissed that Rox had blown up as much as she did.

Lillian sighed, grabbing a jacket and her bag off the side. Bitches be crazy.

“C’mon, then. I’ll get an Uber.”

****​

Lillian bopped enthusiastically to the beat that was playing. There were a few other faces she recognised on the dancefloor; Oates, Nikkolai, Callum… fuck knows what was going on there. Rox sort of sullenly sipped a drink next to her, still moody after their exchange at home. Whatever. She was in the wrong and acting like a miserable baby wasn’t helping her cause. Lillian had already made her mind up; she was here, so she might as well put a bit of effort into enjoying herself. Rox could do what she wanted, but Lillian wasn’t going to stand around while she rained on her parade.

Rox was still hot as fuck, even when she was being a complete downer. She’d been acting like Lillian had attempted to fucking murder her, the melodramatic bitch. Lillian wasn’t willing to apologise or accept any of this as deserved, but she would make an attempt to act with civility towards her. This was just the same as any argument; they’d just kind of get over it after a day or two.

Lillian turned to her girlfriend. “Are you gonna dance with me, or what?”

• .
• .
• .

• outfit
• location

  
  

  apartment
• tags

  Harrowhark (Rox)

coded by reveriee.

 

[Soap]

MOOD: ...

OUTFIT:
Classy.
​

INFO

LOCATION:
NYE party

WITH: Cappie

MENTION: N/A​

ACTIVITY

0k_mang0

TAGS

Chanel Clairmont

— Oh No

When Cappie interrupted the awful conversation, Chanel was nothing short but relieved.

Thank god.

Gods?

Saints? Who knows.

Chanel wasn’t very spiritual— well, she was in the term of meditations, mostly crystals and all, she loved what they stood for— their meanings. But she’s never really found a tie to religion.

Logic didn’t really tie to an all-knowing-being of the universe. It’s not that she blamed others for believing in such, it was a personal thing.

“Lovely shoes by the way.” He said as he interlocked his arm with her own and dragged her away from their effortlessly annoying classmate.

Thank you, Zoe.

They weaved their way around party go-ers and Chanel supposed she could’ve broken off at this point, but there was absolutely no way she was interested in striking up another conversation with a nobody hoping to become somebody with a simple ‘hello.’

Connections, connections.

Just be tolerable, less touchy and Chanel won’t have a problem.

Cappie led them to the balcony, releasing his arm from hers and closing the doors behind them.

“I’m almost surprised no one’s out here admiring this awesome view,”

He was right.

It was nice.

“Hi.” He smiled, and the slightest hint of a smile almost appeared on her own lips before she turned her head, walking closer to the edge of the balcony.

Chanel took a deep breath, a sense of peace with the fresh air and newfound quiet that was only them, and the slightly muffled music coming from inside the penthouse.

“Hi.” She finally replied, turning slightly to look at him, suppressing the smile that attempted to force its way onto her face, ignoring the panic that continued to rise in her chest now that they were alone.

Ignoring him was sure to be a challenge right about now…

But it was either here, alone with him… or inside the party with all-too-loud music and a bunch of drunken people she didn’t know who wanted her attention.

She chose the latter.

Chanel placed two hands on the railing of the balcony, overlooking the city and the slow passing of cars.

LA traffic was real.

A silence sat for a few seconds, her lips thinned, clearly deep in thought about something before Chanel finally spoke up.

“Thank you for saving me.”

It was said light-heartedly, as if she was teasing. But if anything she was incredibly grateful.

“I think I was on the verge of telling her to…”

Cursing wasn’t very ladylike.

“Fuck off.”

Well… even Chanel had her moments. Like their argument twelve days ago.

The argument— and the kiss that she’s refusing to acknowledge.

“…I’m sorry,”

…

“For the language.”

Good save, Ms. Clairmont.

code by valen t.

 

[Soap]

MOOD: ...

OUTFIT:
Just somethin'
​

INFO

LOCATION:
NYE party

WITH: Adri

MENTION: Gen​

ACTIVITY

Winona

TAGS

Livanna Moore

—Breathe

TW: mention of substance abuse, self harm, & SA
__

"I am doing party stuff. It's called taking out the trash, and well..." Adriane gave Liv a once-over.

Liv swallowed, crossing her arms and shifting uncomfortably. Life was easier when she was a freshman.

A nobody.

Sometimes, Liv thinks life could’ve turned out so much easier if she never became a musician.

If her parents didn’t force the idea— well, they didn’t really force it… they just noticed she had a talent and wanted to…

no, not profit out of it…

they loved Liv.

They did! They just… sometimes their judgement was clouded by the promise of their daughter turning into somebody that shined.

Every parent always believed their children were stars in their eyes, but when they saw that Liv had an actual chance, they didn’t hesitate to make a move on it.

Sometimes Liv wished they did.

"I mean, look at you, we’re at a party, not a funeral... unless you're dressed like that because you're mourning your relationship or whatever with Gen? After all, why would she want to be with you? Girls like Gen,"

Adriane’s gaze wandered before it met Liv’s eyes, and as much as she didn’t want to, the brunette couldn’t break the eye contact.

Because it was almost if as Liv was agreeing with what she was saying non-verbally.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear.

"They like girls with class -- not someone that looks like they just rolled out of the dumpster with a needle sticking out of their arm."

That… wasn’t true.

Because Liv could have class if she wanted to.

Could you? Maybe she’s right. Nobody wants a drug addict. That’s what you are, right?

No, she wasn’t.

If Liv had an actual problem, things would’ve been much different. She wasn’t the type of person that everyone thought she was.

She wasn’t a ‘disaster.’

Didn’t Gen tell you once that you were?

No, she just—

Told you that she wouldn’t be there when you inevitably kill yourself.

Stop,

Stop,

Stop.

Please just—

The only thing that halted Liv’s thoughts was Adriane changing the subject, her eyes still trained on hers as the shorter girl’s eyes began to water.

"And, I'm sorry, but is this velvet? Sweetie, you're a girl. Not a shitty velvet couch in your grandma's creepy basement. Toss out the dress and put on something actually worth your time and money. There's a reason that velvet went out of style years ago and hasn't made a return. It's ugly. Like you."

Maybe she wasn’t like the other girls who went to Hollywood Arts, and maybe she wore more sequins, short dresses, and neon-colors from time to time.

Maybe she wasn’t like Gen— or Adriane, or Evie, or…

She wasn’t perfect.

Nobody was perfect.

But Liv just felt like so much less than…

They were just clothes!

Was it the drugs? Was that why she felt like her mind was spiralling?

Is that why her heart was racing and her chest began to constrict? Like she just wanted to scream, cry, and hide all at once?

It wasn’t because of Adriane.

Liv’s had so much worse said to her.

No, no. This wasn’t Adriane’s doing.

It was her own.

“N-no, okay— Gen and I are actually doing really good! I’m not mourn—“

This is where Liv tore her gaze away, and quickly wiped away one stray tear that fell with a bandaged hand, hoping that Adriane didn’t notice.

“And you’re— you’re just saying these things to… feel better about yourself or something. Gen and I are gonna get back together, and I’m not on anything so I don’t know…”

That was a lie.

All of it was probably a lie, let’s be honest.

You’re on at least two different types of opioids right now.

Gen doesn’t want you back, that’s why she left the first time, isn’t it?

“… What you’re talking about…”

Who would even want you?

Nick, maybe. But that’s too bad.

Because even if he wasn’t the way he was, he’d still be using you.

If it wasn’t for a quick fuck, it’d just be getting off on your career.

Because that’s all Liv was to everyone.

Someone to use.

“Just… leave me alone, leave me the fuck alone.”

code by valen t.

---

 

[mogy]

MOOD: Need drugs. Need them. Please, sir.

OUTFIT: Jacket with pink hearts and matching emoji hoodie/sweatpants.

LOCATION: NYE Party (Outside).

basics

MENTIONS:


INT:
Winona (Damien), @petals (Matt)

tags

TL;DR Beelzebub wanted some drugs and he found a good way to get them.

tl;dr

beelzebub

The response given was expected. Slater had always been a pussy, especially when it came to sharing his drugs. Beelzebub knew this, hell, he enjoyed it because seeing an almost grown man acting like a child because of a little blunt was always entertaining. If he knew it was Damien who was the one who had the drugs, well, he probably wouldn’t have told him he looked like shit, or even better, he probably wouldn’t have even come to talk to the two guys.

But it was what it was, and the typical response from the boy only earned a really long and hard eye roll that spoke a thousand words when no words needed to be said.

It wasn’t a secret that Beelzebub Woods didn’t care about things. But Slater, oh Beelzebub didn’t care about Slater even more than he didn’t care about things. He was so unbothered about the fact Slater was here, in front of him, that it was like so surprising Beel even acknowledged his presence. The thing he did care about, though, was that little thing Damien was holding in his hand, and no, this time Beelzebub wasn’t talking about his penis.

He was talking about the blunt. The little fucker that could end the stupid annoying tremor of his right hand. Or at least make it stop for a little while until he found something else to suppress it. Jesus, he was practically dying right here in front of him, and Slater acted like he didn’t even care.

Did the closet not mean anything to him?

Sure, it didn’t mean anything to Beel other than a good time, but Beel was different, and Damien was supposed to help a friend in need. It would’ve been the right thing to do, however, something told Beelzebub that Slater didn’t like doing the right thing. Or he was just stupid enough to not know what the right thing was. Beelzebub wouldn’t be surprised. If there was one thing he knew about Damien, it was that the guy was dumber than the dumbest person in the world. Hell, dumber than that dancer kid, Rye or whatever.

Oh, and who was this other guy? Why was he smiling? Was other people’s suffering a pleasure for him? Was he a psychopath? Of course Damien was friends with a psychopath. Of course Damien was sharing his weed with a psychopath instead of with a very nice boy with bleached hair. Typical Damien. If Beelzebub didn’t have another person to talk to after this conversation, he would’ve thrown hands. He had nothing to lose, now, did he?

Then again, was it really worth it? Messing up an already messed up face? Damien was already pretty ugly and Beelzebub didn’t want his fist to hurt just so he could make Damien look even more undesirable to the boy toy next to him.

All this ran around Beelzebub’s head as if thoughts were gears, and he was just waiting for the solution to click and his next words to come out of his mouth, just like he usually let them.

“Oh, we don’t know each other. Well, we do.” His words lingered, gears turning. “But I like to pretend that he is just a product of my imagination, haunting my nightmares. Like Cthulhu…and Corn Flakes. Oh, and Martha Stewart. God, if she was real I would be really scared. It’s the eyes, I think.” He didn’t really make sense to anyone, he knew that, but he made sense to himself, completely.

“AAH! Damien! You scared me!” He pretended. “Haha, just kidding. Anyway, if you give me some, I’ll leave and then you two can make out or whatever it is you do. Or if you have something better I’ll take that instead. I’m not picky. Well…I am picky, but like it’s kind of an emergency, so I’ll take whatever you give me.”

code by valen t.[/borde

 

[0k_mang0]

MOOD:
just fine

OUTFIT:
semi-casual cappie
​

INFO

LOCATION:
NYE party, balcony

WITH: chanel

MENTION: n/a​

ACTIVITY

Soap

TAGS

cappie

— Dancing in the Moonlight

Cappie only looked at the view for less than two seconds. Sure, Los Angeles night skyline was a lovely sight, with hundreds of dotted lights in the distance like twinkling stars on ground level, despite the light pollution covering most of the actual stars in the sky.

But he was looking at something better than lights from the sky and the ground.

Chanel looked more relaxed than when she was surrounded by the loud party noise and bustling partygoers. Cappie didn’t mind the moment of silence. He finally noticed how well her gold woven belt around her waist matched her blonde hair, gently reflecting off the few lights on the balcony, how she looked both simple and sophisticated in her black dress.

But she didn’t seem entirely relaxed. He wasn’t sure why.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re welcome. I wanted to steal you away tonight, anyway,” Cappie said kind of humbly, if admitting to stealing someone could sound humble.

“I think I was on the verge of telling her to… fuck off.” Cappie chuckled as if Chanel just said something endearing. In a way, she did, in Cappie’s opinion. It wasn’t every day he heard Chanel, so classy and mature for her age, cussing aloud in person and to a person.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure she stole my pencil and last two erasers a few weeks ago.”

Then she said sorry… for cussing, not for avoiding him for nearly two weeks. Maybe he should be upset about that. She’d accused him of using her name and fame to get attention for himself by using their art fest video. She’d left him behind at the winter ball without telling him, and ignored him since then.

Maybe he should tell her to fuck off.

No, he didn’t want to do that. He wanted his friend back and talk to her again, that’s why he was here.

“I’m sorry, too,” Cappie said suddenly. “Not for the language, i don’t mind it.” He sat sideways and upright on a long, armless, cushioned lounge chair across from Chanel. The wine bottle rested against his forearm almost like a baby. “I can’t remember if I already said this—and it’s probably because I’m a bit tipsy already—but I’m sorry for not telling you I wanted to upload the video first. I should’ve told you first, and I will next time if you still wanna work with me again. And part of me kinda thinks I should say sorry for kissing you, but I’m not sure I should ‘cuz that’d be weird. To say sorry for the kiss, ‘specially when I like it… um…”

Cappie paused for a few seconds, realizing what he confessed just now, biting his lips. Well… that was quite impulsive of him. Did he mention he was a little tipsy? He did. Probably a good thing, because he couldn’t tell which was making his face a little pink and warm right now.

“Anyway,” Cappie resumed slowly. “I stole you good wine, as promised. I think I promised, I don’t remember. A pinot-peace offering. Definitely not a bribe to get you to talk to me again.”

He pulled out the small blade on the corkscrew thing and, slowly, started poking the wine bottle foil, trying not to cut himself. He wasn’t really tipsy enough to feel wobbly, but it would be pretty bad if someone didn’t help him.

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

MOOD: e

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: bitch manor

basics

MENTIONS:
Casey, Adriane, JJ
INT:
n/a

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Chas Marino

Can you learn to love someone?

For a while, Chas laid in his bed, surrendering his dignity to the watching eyes of his many mirrors. Despite their differences, he had grown to like Casey. In fact, a part of his friendships with Adriane and JJ was just sort of learning to laugh in their faces instead of take their scathing words personally. Criticize the life of a child star as you will, but it makes having forced friends so much more manageable.

But that was all arguably more private than the smattering of kissy-kissy bullshit Chas and Casey were selling. Every false set of lit-up eyes was the result of method acting, in which Chas dove back into his youngest, happiest memories until a smile formed on his face.

Even then, that strategy had its faults. He had come to realize that a lot of his youth was spent on conditional love, and it had taken a total fall from grace to realize that not even a mother could love a broken racehorse.

But in other news, party!

Chas loved planning. He liked ordering around, decorating, dressing, and then being thanked endlessly for it all. He wasn't president of every organization he ever joined for no reason. It wasn't as though being class president had any bearing on tonight's New Year's party (and if it did, that would be super illegal), but the status did give him a little extra motivation to make it a memorable night. For his peers, and definitely not to one-up Gen and Eli's quaint little Halloween "gathering".

He did have a few helpers while getting the apartment ready for the night, but it wasn't enough for Chas to just sit back and bark orders. Much to his chagrin, most of the day had been spent on manual labor, but it somehow wasn't so bad when Adriane and JJ were forced to help too. Like he was at the very least not beneath them.

Turn the lamp exactly 45 degrees, get that stain on the rug, wrap caution tape around the hot tub, arrange the liquor in order of alcohol percentage, then alphabetically—oh, who cares. Everything was going to get trashed anyway. Normally, Chas hated guests, or at least the useless, teenaged variety. But he was the host. He was special. The one and only New Year's Eve Party Host.

Plus, the majority of people at school were calling it Chas' party, which gave the short Italian a little bit of an ego boost.

Like him or not, Chas was rich and knew what a party looked like, though he still preferred charity galas with respectable celebrities to this. As all kinds of people walked through the door, he could instantly see their amazement and how excited they were to get absolutely wasted. And dance to a really good playlist. And live tweet the best party of the year, new and old.

Now he was really getting pumped. With a practiced smile, he took a red cup off the table and filled it with rosé, which he had stashed in a wine cooler under the sink. Chas needed a drink in his hand, but if it was anyone who did not enjoy the feeling of insobriety, it was him. So tonight was just a little wine. Simple and easy, almost like there were no strangers in his house. Like he was at the spa taking in a soothing, French melody and the scent of seaweed and cucumber.

Actually, maybe champagne would be more fitting.

Well, now he needed to get rid of that rosé. Rather impulsively, Chas downed the contents of his cup and looked around. No one was watching him grossly chug something. Ew. He was in the clear. So, courageously, he popped open a bottle of his favorite champagne, then poured a healthy amount into his cup. Healthy being up to the top, but none of it made any difference.

He had been against the wall, idly staring at everything when he looked down to find his cup empty. Strange... he must not have poured himself as much as he thought. With an internal shrug, the lone host refilled his cup to the top, then sipped it all over again.

A slight dizziness hit Chas. He furrowed his brows. He hadn't given himself that much, had he? He glanced at the bottle, which gleamed in the relative dark. Manicured fingers traced the smooth glass, then gripped it firmly. It still felt heavy, and a decent amount of sparkling wine sloshed around inside... Maybe he did need glasses, especially given how much the dark obscured the height of the bottle's contents.

And so, innocently, another cup was poured.

Chas probably should have been doing something besides loitering around the table with a guilty look on his face. People didn't need to see him like that. He sent a staring couple a glare, then pushed past the crowd back into the living room. Adriane, the clever girl, had kept the grimy guests off the couch. Good girl.

Solo cup in hand, Chas seated himself on the couch's plush cushions, breathing out a sigh. Everything was all in order, or at least nothing had blown up yet. He could rest in his duties as host if not for a few minutes. Actually, where was Casey?

A gaping pit opened in Chas' stomach. He didn't even want to think about that boy right now. Logically, the two of them should have been at each other's side generating good press, but the thought of it alone sapped him of any and all energy. You know... lover Chas could take one night off. Just one. The superficial smile on his face dropped.

His head lolled to the side. Phew... how many drinks was that? In the boy's hand was yet another mysteriously empty cup; had a ghost stuck a straw in it at the start of the night? Something was making his drinks disintegrate into vapor, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

In a moment. He was feeling a little attached to the couch.

code by valen t.

 

[Kitsune2202]

"Focus on me, I'm about to blow them all away"
Stella Bailey

@Steller.Bae has set their status to:
Cheers to Us!

@Steller.Bae has set their outfit to:
Pretty-N-Pink

@Steller.Bae has set their location to:
JJ/Adri/Chas Home

@Steller.Bae has mentioned:
None

@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Zeph ( Winona )

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Stella smiled brightly as he agreed to dance with her. All she wanted right now was to have a good time tonight, and forget all about everything else just for a little while. Zeph was her rock, her solid ground, but he was also her escape and that's what she wanted right now. A break. Look even someone as career orientated as Stella needed to breathe every now and again. She was still only 15, and while she didn't feel the need to indulge in a lot of childish antics, she did need to not feel like an adult 24/7.

She was having fun...even with him looking around instead of at her. Why was he even looking around in the first place? She tried to tell herself that maybe he just wanted to see if any of his other friends had appeared on the scene yet. But honestly even that didn't sedate the spiking feeling in her gut because what did that matter?

They didn't typically spend 100% of any school event with just one another. He was always free to excuse himself and hang out with or go find someone to hang out with for a bit. She'd never made a big fuss or fight about it, and she had the same right. So he wasn't a hostage, if he wanted to take a break and do a round around the party to see his friends that'd be fine, he wasn't being held hostage.

Well it might be kinda dick-ish to break away immediately upon arrival, but it's not like that's not something both of them have ever done before.

She hated to admit it...well that's a lie she only hated to admit it aloud to him that it irked her. She didn't think it was too much to ask that while they were together that his full attention be on her. That was a bare minimum requirement she felt. Especially on a date. Sure it was a party, but it should still count as a date too.

However she kept her mouth shut so she didn't risk sounding like a bitch towards him. The problem is if she talks to him while internally feeling like this it would be more her snapping then anything. She always tried her best to curb that part of herself for him because she felt he didn't deserve it. Times likes this though? Made that a bit more difficult then usual.

Especially since his gaze sometimes lingered a little longer in certain directions. Stella couldn't really see what or who he was looking at since the sea of students around them where all taller then the petite girl. She sometimes hated being so short, but maybe this was for the best. It'd be harder for her to relax if she could see whatever it was that seemed to hold her boyfriends attention more then her being right in front of him.

She was about to slip when he finally looked back at her, but he had such a simple smile on his face she didn't wanna be the reason he stopped. So she internally grumbled and put a pin in it to talk about later. Choosing to shoot back a simple smile in return.

When he finally opened his mouth to talk to her she nodded. Yah, maybe a drink would take the edge off and make her feel better. "Yah I could use a drink." She smiled and let him lead the way to wherever that maybe since once again he's got all the vantage point view.

She tugged gently at his arm to guide him to bending down just a bit as she tried to whisper/yell to him over the music, "You ok?" It was the closest she could get to her actual question without feeling some type of way or feeling like she'd risk him taking it poorly.

º º code by ditto º º