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

Characters
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Genevieve Johannes
@genjohanne has set their status to:
Let's talk about sex, baby
Let's talk about you and me
Let's talk about all the good things
And the bad things that may be


@genjohanne has set their outfit to:
a tee shirt

@genjohanne has set their location to:
gen's bedroom

@genjohanne has mentioned:
mike & liv

@genjohanne has interacted with:
the love of her life

@genjohanne has tagged:
jasmyn jasmyn

Gen couldn’t cry. She wanted to, she really did. Between the screaming and the fighting and the mind games and stupid fucking sex with Mike, Gen felt like a complete and utter piece of shit. Was it too much to ask for one or two tears to fall away, to let Mike be right and prove that she was a pathetic piece of garbage that broke down tired and alone behind closed doors? Was it too much to ask for to just be able to fall asleep and forget everything and, if she was lucky, never wake up? Everything hurt: mind, body, and soul and Gen, for one, was fucking sick of it.

She couldn’t last one night without ruining everything. She couldn’t go one party without drinking just a little too much, not one evening without taking things a touch too far, not one day without making herself feel even more pathetic and useless. The ‘mighty Genevieve Johannes’ had fallen to her own hand and stupidity. Oh the irony was golden. Gen always said that no one would be able to take her down, that no outside force would ever stop her from getting what she wanted. Yet there she was, sitting on a desk in a dark empty office completely numb to the world without a care left in her. Who would’ve guessed that she was the singular exception to her own rule?

How much time had passed? Twenty minutes? An hour or two? Forever? Nothing? Seconds? Days? The room grew no lighter, the ache in her chest grew no less painful, the pounding in her skull refused to subside.

For a minute, a very brief and flighting and incredibly dumb moment, Gen considered calling Liv. Yeah, it was dumb, no Liv would not have picked up and, if Gen was being honest with herself, she probably didn’t want her to anyways. Hearing her voice would just be salt in the wound, just a personalized torture that Gen didn’t have the energy to face. All she wanted was to hug her, to hold her close so they could both tell each other that through all the bullshit of the evening that everything would be okay. Fuck it, if Liv was there in that moment, Gen wouldn’t doubt for a second that at the end of the day, things would go back to normal.

Gen had always scoffed when her parents talked about their love story, two dumb high schoolers that thought nothing of each other until, as if by fate, they continued to run into one another. Gen had always wondered why her father was so patient with her mother, who everyone knew could be a bit overbearing at times, and why her mother put up with so much of her father’s endless questioning and planning. Most people would assume that two people so opposite, two people so conflicting would never last for so long. One marriage, two kids (well, technically four, but Ash and Cap are obviously not biological), and a thriving business later and Mr and Mrs Johannes show no signs of stopping.

No, Gen never understood why, or how, any of that happened until she met Liv. But before she even gave herself the chance to feel it, Gen had pushed her away.

By the time Genevieve had actually managed to pry herself off the desk, she had completely zoned out. Everyone was in the process of leaving by the time she managed to stumble upstairs, her feet dragging beneath her like concrete cinder blocks. Cleaning herself up mediocrely in the bathroom, not giving much thought to whatever of her makeup remained on her face, Gen made her way to her room and dramatically threw open the door which protested with a whine.

“Eves…” Gen frowned, the tears once again threatening to spill from her eyes. Genevieve was all hardass and tough until Evie was there, then she was absolute full sad puppy mode.

“Let's not fucking talk about it, yeah? We have any other time to explain our shitty decisions, tonight let's just not.”

Gen rolled her eyes, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

“I am so in love with you,” Gen laughed tiredly, walking to her closet and closing the door behind her. Slipping off her dress and chucking it in the hamper, Gen pulled on a tee shirt and made her way over to the bed.

"People fucking suck," Evie spoke with a sigh as Gen crawled into the bed and pulled the blankets around her, sinking into the warm embrace of the mattress. "I mean, they really fucking do. Life would be so much easier if we could just elope and run away together.”

Gen laughed weakly in response, her eyes tracing the delicate light fixture on the ceiling.

“Right? Fuck the entire world. You and me, taking over the world. No stupid fucking exes or hookups, no petty high school bullshit, no drama. Just us.” Gen spoke whimsically, dreaming of a life that she hoped one day would truly be.

Gen could imagine the two of them on private jets, dining alongside models and actors and musicians that had recruited them for their skill in the fashion industry. They’d have their own empire, Gen’s face across the billboards while Evie’s name was expertly etched into every tag. Evie would dress presidents and design for movies and shoot editorials while Gen ran the business in the time she was off the runway, using her charm to dazzle the world of fashion into accepting the Evie and Gen superiority. Life would be great. Just them and their careers.

There was a moment of silence between the two as whatever tension they were holding seemed to dissipate with the mere fact that they were together. Through all the ups and downs and pathetic fights and major victories, Evie had always been there for Gen. Once again, Gen didn’t understand why. Evie deserved better than someone who blew up and broke down and wore masked expressions more often than her true feelings.

Gen knew that Evie had had a bad night, she could tell it by the look on the beautiful girl’s face. As soon as Evie shifted closer, Gen did the same, her leg intertwining around Evie’s as she wrapped her arm around her shoulders, pulling her in.

"This might sound crazy but...you've had a shitty night, I had a shitty night...why end it like that? I mean, why not end it on a high note?"

Evie’s words had come as quite the shock to Gen as she looked over to her friend in confusion. She began to study Evie’s face as she attempted to understand what exactly she had done that night. Had she just been drinking or was she also on drugs? Gen resisted the urge to grab her phone flashlight and check the girl’s pupils.

"You're here, I'm here and we both need a fucking win tonight. So?"

There was the look. Gen knew that look. She’d seen that look many times before though it was rarely ever directed at Gen. That was Evie’s ‘let’s fuck around and live life’ look.

Someone call the Guiness Book of World Records because for the first time in Genevieve Carmen Johannes was entirely fucking speechless.

“I-” Gen cut herself off as she sat up abruptly in bed. No, she was reading too much into it, she was being stupid. She’d have to tell Mike later that she was impressed he could fuck her up so much that she thought Evie of all people was asking her to make out with her or something.

The longer Gen looked, the more she realized that Evie wasn’t joking.

Holy shit. Evie wasn’t joking.

Gen burst into laughter as she crashed backwards into the bed, tangling her fingers in Evie’s hair as she pulled herself closer, her lips expertly meeting Evie’s as her hand trailed down Evie’s back. Pulling away for a moment, partially to catch her breath, Gen reached over with a laugh and fiddled with the chain on the lamp beside her bed.

“Well well well, beautiful, I thought you’d never ask.”

º º code by ditto º º
 

Ashton West
"I heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in the world."
@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
totally fine

@Fire&Ash has set their outfit to:
Spider Gwen plus a sweatshirt

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Lucky

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
gh0stwriter gh0stwriter
She was... so freaking tired.

Ash was ready for the night to end, and yet it felt as if it had barely even begun.

Her lazy gaze followed the movements of the people way down on the grass. Some of them were starting to head out, some of them were still partying away. A tinge of jealousy pricked at her the longer that she stared at those figures who were enjoying their nights and actually had, like, had a seemingly decent night as opposed to Ash -- who was currently on the balcony, drinking her weight in vodka.

She let her eyes travel up and away from the figures on the ground to look up at the stars instead. Now, looking at the stars was relaxing.

Kind of, anyway. Not relaxing enough. And it was too much to keep her head titled up, so eventually, her head fell back again and her gaze fell back to the ground. To the tiny figures milling about.

The door to the balcony opened but Ash didn't bother to look over her shoulder and see who it was. It was probably some lovesick couple coming out here for a romantic time or whatever, but they would head back out the moment they realized that she was there.

Except they didn't leave and instead, they talked.

She turned her head slowly, blinking for a moment at the figure beside her. It took a moment for her bleary gaze to catch on his face and realize it was Lucky but, when it did, a grin cracked across her face.

"Hey," she responded, her tone perhaps a little too happy -- like she was sugarcoating it to make herself seem, like, happier than she really was, but that could also easily be written off as the copious amounts of alcohol pumping through her. With her hand that still clutched the bottle, she gestured to the spot next to her and watched as he took the seat beside her.

Half of her had expected him to leave (actually, more than half, like, ninety-nine percent of her -- she wouldn't want to be around her, so why would he?), so she was pleasantly surprised when he didn't. Like, pleasantly surprised, but also mildly confused.

"Yeah," Ash said and started to offer the bottle to him, but thought against it. She brought the bottle back up to her lips, taking another sip, but not swallowing right away. She passed the bottle to him, waiting for him to take it before she brought her hand back across her mouth and forced herself to swallow the vodka. Her body convulsed for a moment (look, she'd had a lot of alcohol by this point), and she ended up coughing into the back of her hand.

"Help yourself," her words sounded surprisingly clear despite how much she'd had to drink. Without the bottle to occupy her hand, she shoved it into the pocket of her sweatshirt and leaned her head back against the side of one of the balcony's poles.

Her bleary gazed tried to focus on anything, but the blurs were getting harder to see. She felt like she was cross-eyed or something.

"Sorry your first party here sucked," she mumbled, her words now slurring together a bit the more she spoke. "Like... I don't know, sorry I ruined it? Hope you had a good time after I left."
º º code by ditto º º
 

Ava Sanders
"Life is for keeping score."

@queenofhell has set their status to:
so... freaking... happy and that isn't sarcasm at all

@queenofhell has interacted with:
Jules

@queenofhell has mentioned:
ugh, Dickian

@queenofhell has tagged:
Soap Soap
So her night hadn't been as hellish as she had expected it to be, and Ava was actually in a decent mood when she saw JJ approaching her. An eyebrow rose up as she watched her friend draw close and, at first, Ava grew tense. She was on edge, fully expecting this to turn into some kind of fight -- even if JJ had been surprisingly decent to her on Twitter.

So imagine her surprise when, instead of her best friend snapping at her, JJ instead offered an apology.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you being friends with stupid Gen or whatever, honestly... I really don't know what we were fighting about in the first place. I don't even know why I'm apologizing right now because I was probably hundred percent right."

Ava wanted to remind her of what it was -- of why they had fought, which was clearly because Jules had been jealous of the attention that Ava was giving Gen and vice versa. It wasn't the friend thing that had been the issue, at least not in Ava's eyes. It had been the flirting.

And maybe that had... dumbly enough given her a little bit of hope -- that maybe this girl that had been her crush for way too long might finally feel the same way. In Ava's hopeful eyes, it was the only reasonable explanation for JJ to have reacted in the way she did.

But Ava didn't throw that back in her face, because she knew that it would just end in another fight. So she kept that little thing to herself.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too." Ava said with a slight chuckle. Fighting with JJ was normal at this point, honestly. Both Ava and JJ were hot-headed and opinionated, so it just made sense that they would snap at each other -- a lot -- but they always made up.

Ava never took JJ's anger at her seriously anymore.

However, Ava grew a little suspicious that there might be ulterior motives here when JJ asked if she could come over to her place and crash for the night -- and even watch horror movies. JJ literally never wanted to do that -- like, literally, never.

Her suspicions, however, melted away at the please.

"Yeah, of course."

----------------------​

Naturally, Ava made sure that JJ didn't go anywhere near her room -- it was a disaster at the moment. Instead, she had JJ wait in the living room while she went into her room to find some mostly clean clothes. She sorted through the piles on the floor, trying to distinguish between dirty, clean, and eh. Eventually, she managed to find some clothes for herself and Jules that passed the smell test.

She'd tossed the change of clothes to Jules and then headed back to her room to change out of her own stuff. Ava yanked the extensions out of her hair, tossing them onto the floor of her room for her to deal with later. Her hands ran through her short, curly red hair. She tossed the slutty clothing to the ground, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt that had some stain on the front of who knows what.

Ah. Now she felt normal.

Stepping out of her bedroom, she suddenly remembered that she had the gross makeup on, so...

Several minutes of face scrubbing later (or, at least, it felt like several minutes), Jules had helped clean her face of the nasty stuff. Normally, the closeness wouldn't have thrown Ava off so much -- after all, JJ was still her best friend before being her crush -- but with the added tension of the night and what Ava's strangely optimistic brain had pieced together...

She was a little nervous. Her heart pounded a little bit.

Ava was thankful when the makeup had finished being removed and they headed out to the living room to flop down on the couch.

"So I'm thinking maybe Psycho," Ava was chattering away about the horror movies in question as she clicked through. She'd seen each one at least twice, but there were a handful that she'd seen way more. There was something exhilarating about watching people being stabbed to death or getting jump scared that Ava just couldn't get enough of.

"Look," Jules said and Ava glanced over to see her pointing towards a necklace, but didn't really look at it. Why the fuck did she care about some stupid shiny rock?

Ava was about to make a remark, but JJ continued before she could.

"Dorian got it for me. We're... actually... like, a thing now."

Well now Ava was interested in the stupid fucking necklace. She looked over at JJ again, her gaze moving down from her best friend's face to look at the stupid necklace that the simp had bought her. It looked cheap -- what had he done? Spent twenty bucks on it and expected Jules to just forgive him and really go so far below what she deserved and date him?

... Well apparently it had worked, so touché. Asshole.

JJ continued but Ava had mostly tuned her out. She couldn't hear her past the embarrassed ringing in her ears as she looked back at the television screen. Ava tried to focus on the names and images, but she really couldn't. She'd just...

It had been dumb of her to get her hopes up, you know?

She felt gutted the more that JJ talked. Like she was in one of those horror movies and the serial killer had cut her chest open and pulled her beating heart right out and was just standing over her, cackling, while her body tried to process what happened before it collapsed in on itself and she ceased existing.

The remote was snatched out of her hand, and now Ava looked over at JJ with her eyebrows drown together, a small pout on her face.

"I'm seriously, so happy."

Jules was waiting for her reaction. She was waiting for her approval, even though she had to know at this point that from Ava? It would be... absolute disapproval.

It was always disapproval, because none of these jerks were good enough for JJ.

JJ's smile fell as she waited expectantly, and that made Ava's pout and angry look fall away to something softer.

Look, even if her heart felt like it had been stabbed a million times over, squeezed beyond belief until it had exploded, and just... like... you know all this stuff. Even if it felt like someone had sent a knife straight into her stomach and just twisted it over and over again...

Ava didn't want to ruin JJ's mood.

So she forced a smile onto her face.

"I'm happy for you," she said, although her voice sounded hollow. She needed to try again. "Really, you deserve this," that sounded a bit better, "as long as he knows that if he hurts you, I'm not afraid to go to prison for beating his ass to death."

That was about the best JJ was going to get.

She reached over, snatching the remote back from JJ.

"Now can we get on with movie night? All this boy talk makes me want to vomit. Save it for one of your other friends." She muttered.

Ava exited out of the horror movie section of the guide and instead, she headed for JJ's old favorite.

A movie that Ava absolutely despised, but...

She wanted to make sure that JJ knew they were good, alright?

So she turned on Mean Girls and tossed the remote onto the coffee table in front of her before settling down onto the couch to watch it. She'd seen this movie at least half a dozen times, and each time had been with Jules. For Jules.

As the movie wore on, Ava stole a moment where JJ was distracted by the movie to steal a glance at her. Her pale eyes studied Jules' profile -- a profile that at this point, she had committed to memory. The gentle, perfect brunette curls. Her eyes, which were the perfect shade of blue. Ava's eyes traced the edges of JJ's face -- the curve of her cheekbones, her lips, her nose... everything.

Everything about her was so goddamn perfect.

There was no way that Dorian appreciated her the way she deserved to be appreciated. There was no way Dorian would treat her the way she deserved to be treated. There was no way that Dorian would ever be able to be there for her the way she needed, because he didn't know her. He didn't know her like Ava did and it would just be a matter of time until he slipped up.

She tore her gaze away from JJ and turned her attention back to the movie in front of her. Swallowing the lump that had started to choke her throat, she settled back to watch the movie and nurse the newest shattering of her heart.
º º code by ditto º º
 

Alejandra Cortez
"She's sweet like candy in'my veins.”

@Realex has set their status to:
Goodnight, Ladies and Gentleman.

@Realex has set their outfit to:
Buzz lightwhore

@Realex has interacted with:
Naomi, Chas, Seb, Simone.

@Realex has mentioned:
N/A
@Realex has tagged:
too many people, just read it, it's not that long.

She made a complete fool out of herself.

But... Naomi was up for a date. That was good. That... was great. That meant that no matter what Alex just said-- or how she handled any of it, Naomi didn't completely think she was complete idiot who had no sense for romance. Because she did! She was just... really nervous. Incredibly so. So much for liquid courage huh? The kiss alone had 'sobered' her up, let alone Naomi's smile itself. Yeah, she was gonna be a little cheesy here. Can you blame her? The girl was excited. Nervous and excited, but much better than she was hours ago. Tonight was an incredible night simply because she spent it with the girl who'd been on her mind for weeks.

Naomi's phone buzzed and Alex took that as a reminder to get her own ride out of here. Wasn't like she could just drive, Alex was incredibly responsible, she'll have you know. It was rather surprising that Naomi leaned in for a last kiss but she wasn't exactly complaining.

Alex pulled away with bright smile, a smile that couldn't fade even if she tried with all her hearts content "Hm? Yeah, sorry, sorry. I'll see-- uh, talk to you tomorrow." She shook herself out of the daze that was one Naomi Elizondo and mustered up the smallest of waves before Naomi was out of sight.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

If only it was that easy.

Alex returned to the party, although only for a little while. Actually returning to Simone and keeping her word.

The rest of her night was spent with her favorite model and a few shots that Alex loss count of.

Granted, she probably shouldn't of because it was already late and there was nothing more than she wanted was actual food and to get these stupid wings off of her. She practically swore to god if another person bumped into her because of it? Oh she was gonna-- A drunken asshole who was dressed up like a football player because they were oh-so-original wasn't watching where he was going and stumbled into Alex.

"Oh, fuck y--"

__

Okay.

So... maybe going crazy on a drunk guy who didn't mean to do anything remotely bad to her was a bad idea. There was only so much a girl could take though? Y'know? She was stumbled on, bumped into, splashed on the whole night, there was completely zero way she was about to be civil about the thing. Especially when his gaze was locked on her cleavage long enough for Alex to switch languages and back, cursing him in every way she knew how. His friends didn't like that very much. Neither did his girlfriend. It was fine though, it wasn't like Alex had gotten attacked or anything. It was just a pretty big argument that winded up in a very, beer soaked girl.

Oh, not Alex.

... Drunk guy's girlfriend.

Say what you want. But Alex wasn't about to be called a slutty buzzlight year by anyone but herself. It wasn't like it was going to be a big thing either. Before it could even get ugly, Chas had stepped in and explained that Alex was being an idiot and dragged her off. "Oh don't give me that, she had it coming." She said, sighing as he reached for her fries, rubbing the temples of her head while a headache threatened to push through and ruin her mood from her bittersweet night. The two went back and forth with stories, morally questionable situations and things that Chas might've done all while Seb stood on the sidelines and just listened to them share opinions on the many things that happened tonight.

It was a good end to a great night.

Let's just hope the hangover isn't too unbearable.
º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: waaaasted

OUTFIT: black shorts

LOCATION: the johannes mansion
basics
MENTIONS:
Kane, Maddie, Corey, Danny, Gen, Eli

INT:
gh0stwriter gh0stwriter (Lucky)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Javier Cervantes
Javi gave Lucky a small nod, doing his best to be understanding of the awkwardness hanging in the air. He didn't expect to hang around long anyway, but a little small talk would have been nice before he was left to his own devices agan. "I'll see you around," he remarked once Lucky turned and left, staring at the floor as the soft thud of the door's closing sounded throughout the room. It was barely audible among the faint music and voices of the party just below the office, intruding upon Javier's thoughtful moments.

In a flash, he was back to square one, yet oddly not as alone as he felt surrounded by Kane, Maddie, Corey, and the rest of the party earlier. At least the energy had died down a bit, and he no longer felt inclined to burst into tears over emotions he was supposed to have sworn off for the night. With no energy, Javi laid back on the already-trashed desk, his head resting on a keyboard. Fuuuuuck, dude... His head was throbbing and every silent, dull moment left him wondering what he was doing there at all.

Lucky had been pleasant, but he'd been expecting a bit more past the sex. What you give is what you get, he supposed, and he concluded it wasn't all that fair to expect a deep conversation after the fact after Javi had been closing himself off to just about everyone he knew for years. The guy was going through his own shit, as evidenced by the hurt look on Danny's face, and maybe it was merely Javier's drunken, wishful thinking to hope for some sort of solace in their mutual fucked-up-ness.

Stifling a yawn (did you just yawn?), Javi picked himself up off of the desk and looked down, letting out a groan when he realized just where on the floor he'd thrown up. The bin he'd puked in with impressive aim turned out to be more than just a conveniently-placed bin, and Javi could just barely recognize a pile of photographs sitting neatly inside. "Fucking shiiiit..."The shirtless boy exasperatedly wiped his face, whimpering with dread for the inevitable evisceration he'd be subjected to by Gen. Or worse, disappointment from the eerily kind Eli.

Javi couldn't give in so soon; the last thing he needed was to burn another bridge at this godforsaken school. Plugging his nose, he stumbled around the desk to grab a handful of papers, which were previously strewn about the area due to the... sensual activity he'd just engaged in with Lucky. He sloppily wiped at the vomit in the bin, gagging with watery eyes out of sheer disgust for his clumsy attempt at fixing the mess he'd created.

Yeah, that wasn't working. Even sober, anyone would have a hard time cleaning up puke in a photo bin... with sheets of paper? Javi retched once more, nearly throwing up again before he caught himself and got up. He dropped the papers atop the bin defeatedly, hoping it would at least cover the mess a tiny bit longer.

Determined not to go down this way, Javi fled the scene, slipping out the door as fast as he could given his impaired motor skills. He sauntered down the hall, briefly collapsing onto the wall every so often to maintain his upright position. He rejoined the party downstairs, praying to God he'd find some friend to take him home or give him somewhere else to go far away from everything.

This party was a bust.
code by valen t.
 
Hold On | Chord Overstreet
Lucky DuBois
"Life's a bitch. That's all I got."



He was way too fucking sober.

Okay, so sober might not be the right word, but he definitely wasn’t as inebriated as he should be. His latest activity with Javi might have had something to do with the fact that his brain wouldn’t shut down, but it wasn’t fair. He should be able to blackout and forget about his woes. Instead, he only added to them.

Operation: Distraction was a MASSIVE. FUCKING. FAILURE.

There wasn’t really any other way to describe it, but maybe he could salvage it by polishing off the rest of Ash’s bottle.

“Hey.”

He was surprised by her peppy tone, but you don’t sit out on a balcony alone if you had a good time. He wasn’t going to push. It wasn’t his place and if he questioned her, it opened him up for questioning and it would just all around be bad. Denial was the name of the game for the remainder of this evening.

He was pleasantly surprised that she had offered to share her vodka. Given the events of tonight, he was sure that, even though they had made up, that she wouldn’t want to talk with him. After all, he could be the very reason she was out on this balcony alone and drowning herself in even more vodka. Ash Blair Johannes really knew how to drink.

He reached out and his heart sank when she retracted the bottle. Maybe she wasn’t over it. It was a momentary thought as he smirked when she took another swig and handed him the bottle. He grabbed it from her with a light chuckle and took a long, large swing, feeling the need to catch up, but by the looks of it, that was going to be impossible.

"Sorry your first party here sucked," she mumbled, her words now slurring together a bit the more she spoke. "Like... I don't know, sorry I ruined it? Hope you had a good time after I left."

Lucky sighed. Sucked was a pretty strong word. There was some suckage tonight. A variety of suckage, really. He took another swig from the bottle and set it down to his right. Her reaction to her last shot and the slurring of words made him feel like maybe she’d had enough for the evening. If she wanted some, she could ask.

He glanced over in her direction. “I had a good time before you left.” He said reassuringly. Her earlier apology over Twitter came as a surprise, because she had nothing to be sorry for, yet here she was. Apologizing. He smiled. “Seriously. Highlight of my night.” The sad thing was, he wasn’t lying. It had been. He took another swig and scanned the area below. People were starting to scatter.

“So...this is why you’re out here.” He joked. “People watching.” He figured that wasn’t exactly true. She was out here the same reason he was. They had both had a shitty night. “Anything good?" He said with a small smirk. "Steep driveways and drunk high school students do not mix. Wanna take bets on who faceplants?" He said shooting her a glance assessing his attempt at lightening the mood.

| mood: Better? | mentions: NA| interactions: Ash| tags: Winona Winona |
º º code by ditto º º
 

Ashton West
"I heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in the world."
@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
totally fine

@Fire&Ash has set their outfit to:
Spider Gwen plus a sweatshirt

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Lucky

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
Trevor

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
gh0stwriter gh0stwriter
She had expected this interaction to go similar to the one earlier with Trevor. You know, yelling. Telling her to fuck off. That kind of stuff. Ash wasn't accustomed to the idea of people forgiving her so readily or insisting that she wasn't even to blame -- especially when it was crystal clear to Ash, at least, that the whole debacle in the kitchen had clearly been her fault. How? Well, she couldn't tell you -- just that she knew that somehow, in some way, it was her fault.

If she had been Lucky, she would've yelled at her. The whole deal -- added another "fuck off" to the ones that Trevor had already dished out to her. Place the blame on her shoulders because clearly, clearly, it was her fault. Maybe flip her off, call her a whore, fat, dumb, etc. -- you know, the insults and everything that she was used to hearing, and then walk back off the balcony and Ash would return to drowning out the regret and the pain and the sorrow with vodka.

And if he'd done all of that, Ash wouldn't have blamed him. She wouldn't have been mad or hurt -- like maybe at first, but after the shock value wore off, she'd have understood it.

She deserved that, duh.

Instead, he did none of that.

“I had a good time before you left.” He said. “Seriously. Highlight of my night.”

What?

Her head jerked over to look at him, her gaze incredulous because that just... he was... why was he lying?

Because like... no, that didn't make sense. Like he should've been overjoyed when she left or something, right? Because he didn't have to deal with her and like, who really wanted to deal with her? She was... what was it? Overemotional. Annoying. Too nice. Yeah, she heard that one a lot which typically just led to her apologizing.

So by all means, clearly, his night should've gotten better after she left.

Like logically, that would make sense.

It must've been because he still wanted her to be his partner for the Winter Arts Festival so, clearly, he was being nice to secure that partnership. To make sure that she wasn't going to like... cancel on him last minute or something. That was dumb, though -- like to be worried about that. She should've been more worried about him cancelling. Like, Ash kind of sucked at the whole music thing. Poor Lucky had no idea what he was getting into.

But yeah, okay. She understood now.

"Your night must've really sucked if I was the highlight," she mumbled in response and let her head return to its resting position against the pillar of the balcony, her gaze drifting back down to try and make out the small blobs on the ground. But everything was kind of blurry, kind of fuzzy, and her eyebrows creased together while she tried to focus.

"But ummm..." her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. "Same -- like, you were the highlight of mine, too."

Not that it would've taken much to be the highlight of Ash's night.

She cracked a small grin as he started talking again, about the people down below. Now, with someone here to actually talk to -- and with it being generally pleasant conversation -- she'd forgotten about the vodka. Which honestly was for the best because Ash was just a few swallows away from being so blackout drunk that she wouldn't have gotten out of bed until Monday.

"Steep driveways and drunk high school students do not mix. Wanna take bets on who faceplants?" He said.

"Alright, you're on." She replied -- now betting wasn't usually something Ash did. At least if it didn't involve, you know, how much alcohol she could handle (see: Lin vs Ash in the great who can drink more bet of the first skip), but hey. Whatever. It sounded fun and it would be a nice distraction from the storm of thoughts in her head.

Ash moved her head away from the pillar and leaned forward more so that she could peer down at the nameless, faceless blobs again. She selected one, pointing in the person's general direction. "Five bucks says he ends up tripping and crawling halfway."

And that is how Ash ended the night -- well, until her phone started ringing, you know. And she'd have to pick it up to see that Gen was completely out of it, and then she'd stumble through the house on her way to try and help out her equally drunk friend.

But until that happened, Ash found herself generally enjoying the last bit of her night with Lucky -- like with a genuine smile and everything. And the anger, and the hurt, and the everything else from before with Trevor started to fade away from the forefront of her thoughts.

Yeah, her just returning what she had thought was basically an ill-deserved compliment -- the whole, you know, "highlight of the night" comment -- ended up being the truth.
º º code by ditto º º
 

danielle howard
@beautyandthebeat has set their status to:
uuuuuggggghhhhhh

@beautyandthebeat has set their outfit to:
hungOVER

@beautyandthebeat has set their location to:
our apartment

@beautyandthebeat has mentioned:
kelli, damien

@beautyandthebeat has interacted with:
kelli and cole

@beautyandthebeat has tagged:
ditto ditto

@beautyandthebeat has written a tl;dr:
dani has the best big brother

just hours ago, dani was feeling like she just won the lottery. she was feeling better than she had in a long time. and now? now, she had a pounding headache and she felt like the room was spinning no matter how still she stood.

the last thing she remembered from the night before was a certain boy toy and her having an extra good time. the longer she laid awake in her bed, the more memories started coming back to her.

she remembered the intense, steamy makeout session they had in the kitchen, and how she proved to be in control. she remembered how they couldn't keep their hands off each other as he tried to lead them to one of the many guest rooms and got lucky that the first one they came across was empty. she remembered how the instant they locked the door, he turned into an animal and went to town. he wasn't the best she had ever had, but in the moment, when she was drunk off her ass, she enjoyed herself.

and then she ended up at home. she remembered finishing in that guest room, knocking out, and then she woke up at home. she had no idea how she got there, and she could only hope that cole wasn't the one who found her.

but as soon as her big brother walked into her room with a glass of water and some aspirin, she knew her hopes were for nothing.

"looks like someone had a little too much fun last night, huh?" he had his big brotherly chuckle escape his lips as he set down the glass and pain meds and sat on the bed next to her.

dani let out a groan as she rolled over and covered her head with the blanket.

"leave me aloneeeee," she dragged out her words, trying to portray her annoyance. she really wasn't wanting a lecture out of him, but she knew that it was probably coming whether she wanted it or not.

"dani," his tone became more serious, she felt his hand on her shoulder. she knew she had to uncover her head and actually look at him. "you don't remember how you got home, do you?" dani slowly shook her head, she didn't like where this conversation was going.

dani had her fair share of being lectured. whether it be from teachers, her parents, or even her older cousins, dani seemed to always being lectured. perks of being the youngest howard in the family. before cole left, it wasn't so bad. everyone in the family tended to back off, ever since the hospital incident, they knew she would listen to cole. so cole would always be the one to come and talk to her about whatever the adults wanted to talk to her about.

but then when cole left, they had no one to talk to but dani. no mediator, dani-translator, none of it. and dani didn't have anyone to filter her outbursts of attitude and sassy remarks to what her parents had to say. she would get in double the trouble and would get double the lectures from her parents. she would get extra work on the ranch, extra chores to do, hell there were even times when her parents just completely took her phone away and sent her to her room like a nine year old.

it was an awkward dynamic she had with her family. they didn't feel like family. they just felt like these adults that were in charge of them. she never had a strong bond with anyone but cole. of course she loved her parents, and her aunt and uncle and her two older cousins, but they never took the chance to know her. they were always busy with the ranch and the business and anything that wasn't dani. but cole had always had a crazy strong love for his little sister. he was the only real family that dani felt related to. she always knew that if she had cole, she would be okay.

so why do i always make him worry?

"i was getting ready to leave, you weren't answering your phone. no one had seen you in a while. i finally came across someone who said they saw you and some guy wander off in a certain direction. i went and checked every single door until i found you, alone, damn near naked on a bed."

well that wasn't good.

dani knew exactly how that looked, but she knew that cole was about to tell her anyways.

"dani..." she heard his voice falter and he paused to compose himself. it caused dani to sit up in her bed, and hold his hand. "all i asked is that you tell me where you were going. i just wanted you to communicate. as much as i don't love the idea of you sleeping with a random guy at a party, i would really like to know that you were wanting to sleep with whoever instead of being scared for my life that someone drugged you and God knows what else."

"hey, hey," dani interrupted him, forgetting about her headache. "i'm sorry, i really am. i was just, really fucking drunk. it was all on my own, but i could barely remember what was going on. i'm sorry." cole couldn't even look at her. she didn't know if it was out of shame or fear, probably both, but she hated how she felt.

she felt dirty.

"dani, we're on our own out here. we don't have adults to hold us accountable for what we do. you will always have me, no matter what, but i hate trying to babysit you when you're not a baby. i just want you to talk to me, okay?" his head finally looked up at her, his eyes were glassy, he was obviously fighting to hold back tears.

"hey..." she pulled her brother towards her, enveloping him in a hug. "i'm sorry. i promise, i'll never pull a stunt like that again, swear it"

dani often forgot how much her brother loved her. she often forgot how serious their situation was and how she was not his responsibility, and boy did her brother take responsibilities seriously. it was moments like this where dani remembered who found her in the bathroom that night, and who was the only person who actually cared about her. she remembered just how strongly cole howard loved his little sister, and suddenly she hated everything she ever did to hurt him.

~~

after a while, dani's hangover was way better. she was able to fix herself up, she even took a shower and get dressed in a lazy day outfit. it wasn't until after she got over her hungover that kelli was coming over.

kelli! dani's new best friend here at HA. they had literally never met in person, but dani knew they were destined to be best friends. they were both in dance, with music older brothers. it was perfect. and they were all new! so when dani heard about the importance of the winter arts festival, she immediately asked kelli to come over.

with them both being in dance, dani figured it wouldn't hurt if they both went over some different dance moves, routines, and brainstorm ideas for their different performances. and, of course, it'd give dani a chance to learn more about her new best friend!

she thanked cole for making pancakes, as a big brother does when their little sister was hung over after a one night stand, and after she ate, there was the perfect timing of a knock at the door.

"that's kelli!" she jumped up, very excited.

dani normally was really nervous about meeting new people, but kelli just gave off the most friendly vibe, even on a screen. dani could tell that kelli would never be so judgmental like she was used to. she turned to cole before going to the door.

"i love you, but don't bug us. i don't need kelli getting scared off because of my big brother trying to spy on me 24/7." dani squinted at cole, who very innocently held his hands up in surrender.

"hey, i'm just doing the dishes!" dani laughed and shook her head as she went to the door. she swung it open and held her arms open, giving a big, warm welcome

"kelli!"
º º code by ditto º º
 
[
TAKE ME TO YOUR BEST FRIEND'S HOUSE
ROLL AROUND THIS ROUNDABOUT, OH YEAH

M O O D : hype lmaoooo

O U T F I T : spot the drip lmao

L O C A T I O N : his condo

M E N T I O N S : charles cheese marinade and coleslaw

I N T E R A C T I O N S : zephyyyyy

T A G S : Winona Winona


Halloween had been a whole, heaping bunch of oodles of a hell of a lot of fun, in Lin Kay’s not-so-humble opinion. Sure, he was still a virgin because Charlie’s roommate was an asshole, but, hey, that didn’t ruin a night, 'cuz, like, even as hype as he had been for the zexie time (rawr), it wasn’t like he hadn’t been a virgin for all sixteen years of his awesome fucking life.

Plus, like, if all else failed, that meant that Lin could drop everything and become a nun or something. He'd fucking rock a habit— icons rocked fucking everything.

Luhmao, yeah, last night had been fucking bumping, bro, bro-ette, and-or ambroguous.

Forget the whole thing about Antenna Man hanging him on the bannister because that didn’t count— and it’d stretched out his cool ass belt, so no, he wasn’t gonna count that as part of the, whoop whoop, rocking night.

Aight, so he'd lay out the scene for you, just to give you a goooood recap of all of the fuckin' fun that he'd had last night:

First, he met Zeph— well, “met” him, ‘cuz he kinda already knew him, 'cuz, ya know, Twitter, and he'd been going to the school a couple of years, so he'd seen him around. It was fucking sick to make thing officially bro between them, though— 'cuz, if Twitter and the little bit that Lin had talked to his bro was any show of who Zephy was as a dude, the guy was a) the best fucking wingman that the world had ever seen— 'cuz what kinda guy offers to cheer you on while you fuck in a gondola except the best fucking wingman?— and b) sucked at bets— oh, and c) was just generally fucking dope-ass.

Then, then, then, he’d eaten a lot of candy and gotten that reaaaally good sugar rush. And we were talking reaaaally good. And, no, he wasn't gonna get kidney stones, 'cuz Mom didn't raise no bitch and Mom also didn't raise no bitch's kidneys. Plus, it wasn't even the most sugar that he'd ever ingested, so he was gonna be fine. He appreciated your concern, but also, his kidneys weren't as pussy as yours, luhmao.

And then, he’d won three bets, dog as his witness— whether Zephy wanted to admit it or not— and then he’d streaked around the party in his underwear, and then he’d set up today’s bro thing with Zeph, and then he’d gone to Charlie and Coleslaw and vibed, and then he’d gotten to bully Cheese Marinade— like, hell yeah!

Best fucking night! Woo!

Oh, and then he’d gone around like Santa Claus— Santa Kay— gifting people the last of his candy. Not ‘cuz he didn’t want it, but it was just ‘cuz everyone’s nights kinda sucked and it was a lil’ fun to mock them by giving them candy and have them thank him like he wasn’t laughing at them, luhmao. Except for his friends. The candy he gave to his friends was just ‘cuz they were his friends.

Talk about a great fuckin’ night, eh?

Anyway, Mitsubishi, who’d been well-loved the whole party, had been all pooped out by the time that he set her in her carrier, and he did his best to maneuver his bike as gently as possible so as not to wake her. She was a fucking angel, and she snored a little when she slept, and it was so damn cute.

When he’d gotten home, he’d sent a few pics to his mom, who’d sent back a flood of texts talking about how “freaking adorable” he was in his Daphne costume— which, ess-emm-aych, he wasn’t cute, Mom, he was fuckin’ smoking, get your facts straight— and then he’d put Beeshi in her cage and gave her some dinner, texted his girlfriend that he was home because he’d told her that he would, laid down on the carpet in his living room, and passed out— ‘cuz why not? He woke up this morning to red marks along the side of his face that looked like the fibers of his carpet, but it was like a sick red temporary tattoo, so it was another win-win situation.

He had also been, like, eighty percent sure that his “dad” was going to call or text him to chew him out about the costume or the things that he saw about him streaking or something, but he didn’t see any texts yet or anything besides from his mom, so that was another good thing.

He’d woken up, let his dog out, and played with her for a bit, tended to her and changed her papers and everything that a good dog dad did, and then he’d gone to his room to scrub the makeup off of his face. His mascara ran and stuff, and the lashes didn’t want to come off, and the lipstick stained his lips kinda, but he was soon back to normal-ish, luhmao. He pulled out the bobby pins that remained on his red wig, throwing them to either side of the cluttered countertop before casting the wig down onto the floor— quickly followed by the rest of his clothes.

One nice, cold shower later, and Lin was shivering and grinning, ready to face the day.

The guy was an early bird.

And also a night owl.

You know, as it went, luhmao. Lin had two modes: go, go, go and zz, zz, zz.

Lin wiggled his shoulders, dancing to walk-in closet dripping and fully nude, and he stepped inside, putting a hand on his chin as he tried to decide which clothes to wear for his first frate with Zephyr Evermore.

Aw, hell yeah. Spot the drip.

He made his way downstairs, and, after eating a small breakfast of nearly a whole box of Cocoa Puffs, Lin made his way to the living room, turning on his Playstation, grabbing his controller, and picking up his headset from his coffee table.

It was time to get his fucking game on.

commence gaming •​

“What the fuck, man?!” Lin yelled, shaking an open hand in the general direction of the television as he glared at the screen, throwing himself backwards into the back of the couch cushions. “Bullshit! You can’t— what the fuck?!


One of the other players wheezed, and another one spoke up with a “bro, calm—“

“No!” Lin huffed, throwing his controller down beside himself. “What the hell?! I was so fucking close— and that was my kill, anyway! What the hell?!”

Another voice was laughing, and, when it spoke, Lin identified it immediately as the voice of the motherfucker who did this to him. "I fucking can and I just did."

“What the fuck, man?!” he yelled again, his voice cracking, despite the fact that it was obviously a female voice. "That was my fucking kill! And you shot me?! What the fuck?! We're on the same team, bro!"

That one voice came again: “Calm dow—“

“No! Shut up! I'm yelling at her right now!" he hissed, then turned his attention back to the person who the in-game camera had switched to now that it was dead: the girl who killed him. "Seriously, what's your fucking problem?! That wasn't even your fucking job, bro! What the fucking— gah?! What?!"

"Dude. You weren't doing shit so I had to do it for you."

Lin stuck his tongue out, his brows knitting as he stared at the screen, mumbled a "nyun", and raised his middle finger to shake at his television, as if that were her face and he were shoving the bird in it.

"Just get fucking better, but like...later. I think you need a nap or some shit, kiddo. Go throw your tantrum somewhere else."

"Hey, fuck you!" he growled. "I was doing a great fucking job! I had all of my shit done, and here you come, just fucking double-killing me and my target?! What the actual— that's fucking cheating! You're a fucking cheater!"

The wheezer continued to wheeze.

“Get a fucking inhaler, man!” Lin huffed, then turned his attention back to the kill-stealer. "You fucking owe me! You took my health packs and all of that shit at the start, too— and I called you out on that bullshit, and now you fucking killed me?! Get real, man! It's a fucking team game— that's not how you play!" He huffed a sigh, throwing his hands in the air.

He was fuckin' dead, and now he'd lost all of the inventory that he'd stored up 'cuz he hadn't gone back to his chest to store it.

"Looter! Fuck you!" he continued raging. His microphone had been peaking this whole time, and it was only getting worse. "Fuck you, and your mom!"

Woah, and my mom?” asked the calm down dude, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Fuck!" he yelled. “Not your mom, her mom!”

"Whoa, dude, calm down," the killer girl said.

This roused another shake of the middle finger this time— plus a second middle finger, 'cuz fuck her.

"I'm not fucking cheating. Not my fault you're just a sore loser. Why don't you go cry to your mommy or some shit?"

"I'll go cry to your mo—"

Lin cut himself off as the trash-talking looter sucker got shot, right in the head, for his viewing pleasure.

"What the fuck!" she yelled. "Fucking— fuck."

Of course, Lin started laughing his ass off. Fucking barrel rolling, luhmao.

"Ha! Eat karma's ass, fuckerrrr!" he said. "Fucking make out with it— suuuuck it!" he whooped. "Oh, it's too fucking rich!"

"Fuck you, man,” said the killer, obviously salty that she’d gotten her divine retribution.

He moved his microphone to sit right against his mouth, and he befan to mockingly mutter into it. "What, are you gonna go cry to your mommy? Are you gonna pee your pants and start bawling? Do it, do it, do it. No balls, loooter. No balls, cheaaater. No balls, no balls."

"No, I'm not a little bitch baby like you. Fuck off,” she snapped.

There was a knock on Lin’s door, and he perked up for a second, glancing back at his door before looking back at the screen.

“Oh, shit, I gotta go," he said, moving his mic away from his mouth.

"Bye. Go cry to your mommy about the cheater," she said, her voice dripping with venom as she spoke.

He scowled again, flipping off the screen with a nyah. “I’ll go cry to your mom. I think that’s her at my door.” He took off his headset, setting it down on his coffee table before shoving the mic in his mouth and yelling one more “ha, fuck you” into it.

He huffed, and he clicked off his headset and shut down his game.

Fuck that girl, man. Fucking loser.

He scowled at the screen for a moment, and then there was another knock at the door.

Oh, hell yeah! Zephy was here!

Lin out a laugh, grinning to himself as he excitedly stood and ran over to the door. His dog looked up from her chew toy and then stood up, yapping. “We got a guest, Beebee!” he cooed, and he grabbed the handle of his door and threw it open.

He grinned wider when he saw him. “Yo, Zephy!” He opened his arms to give him one of those good ol’ double-pat bro hugs, then pulled back. “I was wondering when you’d show up, bro, bro, bro! Come in, bro!” He stepped to the side, letting Zeph in before shutting his door. He walked into his kitchen to grab an apple, and he called to his guest: “Yo, you want an apple or something?”

He crunched into his apple as he made his way to the living room. “Yo, you can move that controller if you wanna sit on the couch,” he said, tossing himself into one of his bean bags, grinning widely. “I was just beating some ass in a game today, no biggie. Uh, you can just throw it on the coffee table, if you wanna.” With the lack of sugar, Lin’s words were far more followable.

He wiggled on his bean bag. “So the plans for today: we hang, we chill, and then we go to the store, we hang, we chill, then we come home and we sword-fight,” he said casually, as if that was the most normal thing. His dog came to join him on the bean bag, and he laughed, cooing to her and petting her before continuing. “And, of course, I got a lotta snacks in my pantry, and if we need more, we can just go and steal some more.” He grinned, laughing. “Sound like a plan, Zephy Man?”
LINDSAY MORGAN KAY
º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:
[
bitch, sit down
be humble

M O O D : getting around

O U T F I T : let loose

L O C A T I O N : the apartment

M E N T I O N S : ava, amy

I N T E R A C T I O N S : [ you'll see ]

T A G S : [ you'll see ]

If the alarm clock sitting on his nightstand was to be believed, Saint Taylor had, for the first time in at least a week, gotten more than three hours of sleep last night. Perhaps it was the fact that he had finally gotten out of his apartment for something other than school business or business business, and that had tired him out, or maybe it was just the fact that he hadn’t sat up all last night with ideas or anything. Either way, when Saint awoke, he felt a heavier grogginess than usual, and he sighed quietly.

He was always tireder the more that he slept, he found, and he really didn’t need to be this exhausted if he intended to work on his project today.

Even so, he wouldn’t chalk last night up to a bust, he supposed; the event proved to be…uneventful, but he seemed to have made a new friend in Ava, and, though things with Amy didn’t go as positively as he hoped, it all turned out alright, he guessed. Calm nights were the most fun to actively participate in, anyway; Saint preferred to stay out of drama himself…though he didn’t mind observing it.

He pushed out of bed, trying his best to do as little disturbing of the covers around him as possible, and, in his underwear, he made his way to his closet, expertly avoiding the boxes of clay that blocked the path to it, and he slid open the doors, looking inside to find something to wear before deciding to slide the doors shut again and look at the pile in his floor for today’s wardrobe. He made his way back over the boxes and to the other side of the bed, his movements silent, and he began to shuffle through the pile for clothes that didn’t utterly reek and were unstained enough to tug on. Last night’s bloodied shirt and wrinkled pants looked up at him and reminded him how badly he needed to do his laundry, and, with a soft sigh, he noted this, telling himself that he’d do it at some point today.

After pushing a few things aside, he pressed a loose, grey shirt and loose, grey capri sweats against his nose, sure not to catch his septum piercing on the clothing. He’d spent enough time last night cleaning the blood from the thing (and from his face); he didn’t need to waste more time getting it unhooked from today’s outfit.

The clothes smelled fresh enough, which meant that they were good enough for him to wear.

He grabbed a clean pair of purple boxers from his chest of drawers quickly and made his way out of his room and to the bathroom, opening his bedroom door and shutting the bathrooms door as quietly as possible. Soon thereafter, Saint, dripping wet, was exiting the bathroom, a towel around his shoulders and over his head, his shirt slung over his arm, and his sweats pulled on crookedly.

He gently shut the door behind himself, dropping his towel. He seated himself on the edge of his bed and began to tug on his shirt with his back to the bed, the notion that he had to move carefully and quietly temporarily forgotten.
saint taylor
º º code by ditto º º
 

cole howard
@howdy.coleboy has set their status to:
creativity pancakes for the win

@howdy.coleboy has set their outfit to:
vibin

@howdy.coleboy has set their location to:
the kitchen

@howdy.coleboy has mentioned:
N/A

@howdy.coleboy has interacted with:
dani

@howdy.coleboyhas tagged:
N/A

@howdy.coleboy has written a tl;dr:
cole's the best big brother smh

thankfully, cole didn't have a pounding headache, or sensitivity to light that next morning. he was thankful that he had a good tolerance to alcohol and he didn't even drink that much at the party. it was just enough to get tipsy, which was more than he could say for his sister.

man, his sister. he hadn't felt panic like that in years, not knowing where she was, someone saying they last saw her with a dude? he was about to go into a blind rage, thankfully he was tipsy. he was just overwhelmed with relief when she woke up and was okay.

he had to be a big brother, he had to have a talk with dani, not necessarily one about the birds and the bees, more like, the boys and the drinks. he understood she was going through a lot, and he understood that she was trying to ignore her feelings, whether she would admit it or not. he just hated the toll it was taking on him. it felt like all the odds were stacked against him, and there was nothing he could do.

he felt alone. constantly.

after talking with dani, he felt a little better. he had to remind himself that this was something she did. she would scare the crap out of him, he would get her out of trouble, and she would apologize and say she'd never do it again. it was a pattern that cole never seemed to get used to. he hated the feeling of dread that weighed him down whenever he didn't know where she was

damn was he really a father at eighteen? and of his own sister?

wonderful

~~

it took dani a while before she was a functioning human being again, it took her about twenty minutes before she actually got up and went to take a shower. said shower lasted over an hour. what was it with his sister and long showers? especially during a hangover, he didn't see the appeal.

but then again, cole barely ever got hungover anymore, so he couldn't tell you whaat it was like.

cole decided to be a good brother and make pancakes. he had a lot to do that weekend. with everything that was happening with his mom and sister and family over the summer, he hadn't had a lot of time to work on his winter arts festival. which was a big deal to him. and this was the most important one of his high school career. he was a senior, and seniors were known to get scouted by so many different agencies their senior year at hollywood arts. this was his chance to get scouted, get signed, and start making some actual money.

he really didn't want to say this was all about the money, but it was all about the money. with his mother being sick, and cole and dani both not working on the ranch, his father was really working overtime. he knew he had no choice but to get signed from the winter arts festival. he had to start making some real money, it was his obligation as the son who left home & influenced the daughter to follow him.

having a strong moral compass, it was something cole was known for with his friends and family. he knew what was right and he knew what he had to do. and what he had to do was work his ass off to make this best song he ever made, and perfect it for the performance. he had to pull out all the big guns, all the show stoppers, everything. every trick up his sleeve had to get thrown into this song. because this song was going to be his life saver, his future, his way to pay back his family and prove that everything was worth it.

so yea, cole was going to make pancakes. he loved pancakes and he knew that dani loved them too. pancakes were his brain food, the one food that helped get his creative juices flowing.

by the time dani got out of the shower, cole was already all done with baking them all. he was washing all his dishes when dani thanked him and sat down to start eating. cole sneaked a peak over his shoulder and caught himself smiling.

there was his sister, hair thrown up in a lazy bun, dressed in whatever hoodie and sweats she threw on, and she was stuffing her face with pancakes covered in peanut butter. she was just, eating pancakes, but cole felt his heart swell with love for his sister. he remembered how much he truly loved her, how they grew up together, how they were always with each other, and how he almost beat a pack of kids to death because they put her in the hospital.

there would never be a moment where cole didn't love dani.

his thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock at the door, and dani shot up from the table. she gave some random remark about not scaring off her friend and cole just laughed at her.

"as long as you guys don't mind me jamming out, i have to write my song for arts fest!" he called out to her, hoping she heard before she opened the door.


º º code by ditto º º
 
[
oh, ain't it lovely, ain't it sweet
to be staring at my feet, when i see you on the street

M O O D : friends!

O U T F I T : cute

L O C A T I O N : dani's (and cole's) apartment

M E N T I O N S : kian, oates, ronnie

I N T E R A C T I O N S : dani, cole

T A G S : sunshineysoul sunshineysoul

Kellian Phelan found fun in a lot of things. Riding the bus was fun, for example. Sweeping the floor was fun, too. Doing her homework was…kinda fun, and, uh...you know, even walking from the dormitories to the classes was fun.

But last night? Last night was really, super duper fun. A whoooole new level of fun. Jaw-dropping funness.

She enjoyed last night a whole, whole lot, and, for once, it wasn’t just her being alone and holding the bags of all of the other girls while they shopped and chatted about boys or her idly nodding along to “conversations” about things that her companions’ dads had bought them. She'd hung out with Ronnie, who was so cool and who actually carried on conversations with her and smiled and laughed and danced with her.

Kelli'd had friends before, yeah. She'd had friends her whole life, but, uh...something was different here. She didn't really know what, but, with her roommate and even with the other sophomore who she'd hardly spoken to online, there was just kinda something.

Something that seemed kinda cool, kinda different, and kinda really freaking cool.

At some point in the early morning hours, Kelli had been texting with Dani. She honestly wished that she’d caught her at the party— you know, since Dani seemed to have so much in common with her and since Dani was so receptive to her puppy gifs (and ranked them all thousands out of tens, which was definitely the most accurate assessments of puppy gifs that she’d ever seen (sorry, Kian)). Dani was a dancer, too, and Kelli had the day free tomorrow, and all of the talk last night with Ronnie about the Arts Fest made Kelli think hey, I should work on that.

The thing was, she didn’t really have any ideas.

And that was the perfect excuse to go and hang out with another potential friend. After all, they were both dancers, and it seemed just fun to go and hang out with her.

She’d taken an Uber to Dani’s house. Usually Kian was her ride, but she didn’t want to disrupt whatever he had going on. She just texted him and let him know where she was going and that she was getting a drive, and then off she went.

Now, she stood at the door, double- and triple-checking that this apartment was the right one.

What if Dani had mistyped? What if they were actually in the next one over, and an angry old dude came to the door, and then that angry old dude kidnapped her and Dani was inside her room listening to loud music and didn’t hear? Kian would flip.

She hoped that this was the right one.

Swallowing hard, she lifted her shaky hand to the door and gave it a gentle knock.

“Hello?” she said in her soft voice, waiting for an answer for a moment before dropping her hand.

She held her breath and took as step back from the door.

If it was an old guy, she was bolting. She could definitely move faster than one of them, right? She was a little tiny dancer girl, and he was a big gigantic mean old man, and she could, uh, pull some karate moves and dash the heck out of there.

The door swung open, and Kelli jumped in slight surprise at the sudden motion—

But it wasn’t an old guy, and a smile spread across her face when she saw who it was in the doorway.

“Kelli!” chirped the familiar, friendly face, and Kelli gave small jazz hands. “Me!” she agreed, laughing quietly and then gesturing to Dani. “Dani!”

She went in for a hug. “How are you?” she asked. “What’s up?" She moved back from her, giving her a quick glance over. "How’s it cracking?” She laughed quietly. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see you yesterday— I meant to come and find you, but, when I went to look for you, I didn’t spot you. I really need glasses, though, so it could’ve been that." She noticed that she was rambling, and she shook her head slightly, smiling and cupping her hands at her waist. "I'm sorry.”

She took a step inside as Dani moved aside. “Ooh, cute place,” she complimented, looking around and taking in the scenery. It was pretty cute. It was a whole lot different from a dorm, too. "I wish I lived in my own place," she commented, "or with Kian. It seems like it'd be cool."

She took a few cautious steps inside before she waited for Dani to come and lead her to wherever she wanted to go. She always felt awkward in new places, and she would much rather have followed Dani’s lead.

As they walked further in, she spotted a figure at the sink in the kitchen, and she came to a stop. “Oh, uhm!" she said in surprise when she first noticed the person, and she took a couple of steps back. "Oh, uh...is that your brother?” she whispered to Dani, holding her hand to the side of her mouth so that her friend could hear her, as if Dani would have a complete stranger in her house. She could only see his, but she always got a little bit antsy around older people, of any kind, unless she already knew them pretty well, so even knowing that his presence was there made her kinda nervous, which, on top of her already nervousness, made her super, super, suuuuper nervous. “Cole?” she asked Dani, studying his back.
kellian phelan
º º code by ditto º º
 

january quinten
@jan.quin has set their status to:
"i don't wanna take up too much of your time..."

@jan.quin has set their outfit to:
what does it matter?

@jan.quin has set their location to:
kill me

@jan.quin has mentioned:
end it

@jan.quin has interacted with:
i'll move back to arizona

@jan.quin has tagged:
satan, overlord of anxiety

@jan.quin has written a tl;dr:
i hate everything

jan didn't know where this all went wrong.

that was a lie

of course she did

she knew exactly where this went wrong

and it started the moment she let her guard down around one elias johannes.

jan knew it, nothing ever good came out of opening up. nothing good ever came out of trusting people with any piece of yourself, not when you have any kind of romantic interest in that person.

but how did this get so out of control? why do i always mess everything up?

for the rest of that night and well into the next morning, jan couldn't stop reliving the events, play by play, pinpointing everything she did wrong. she had to ignore everything that happened before that night at the party. allowing herself to have feelings for anyone else after gentry was obviously a mistake, and then letting things move so incredibly fast that by a week later she had him under the impression that she opened up about her past? she had to ignore those massive mistakes as she went through her mistakes from halloween.

first mistake? remotely looking in the direction of genevieve johannes. if she never looked over at her, if jan would've just text eli or ash that she was there, then gen would've never made her way over and given her the anxiety attack of the century. there were so many other things jan could've done instead of looking over at them. gone to the snack table, sat down somewhere, looked literally anywhere else. but no, she had to look at genevieve. and her little talk not only reminded her of the risks she took by allowing herself to have feelings for eli, it reminded her how truly alone she was if anything went south.

which they had.

second? telling eli she was okay with spending the night. it was a lie, she obviously wasn't. the mere idea of spending the night at a boy's house freaked her out more than she had been in a long time. not that she didn't trust eli, of course not. she trusted eli, she knew he would never do anything that would make her uncomfortable. but the idea of falling asleep in the same house as genevieve? after their little talk? jan was terrified that she would get on social media and tease her about it, say that she and eli got lucky. and before she knew it, jan would've just been another hollywood whore. it had barely been a month of her knowing eli and if people thought she slept with him? that soon? jan hated the idea. she hated thinking what other people would think of her.

third? telling anyone how her and gen's little talk made her really feel. her only two friends were the closest people to genevieve, what good would it do if she tried to tell ash or eli about what happened? jan clearly didn't think about that answer because she went ahead and told both of them how it made her feel. the truth was it reminded her how alone she was. it made her terrified because she knew genevieve wasn't the kind of person to throw around empty threats. what hurt most is when her friends seemed to throw away her feelings, brush them off. invalidate her to the moon and back.

she would say to hell and back, but she was pretty sure she was already in hell, and the moon was way further.

but what did she expect them to do? believe her? take her seriously? of course not. genevieve was their sister. which leads us to jan's fourth mistake;

opening up her damn mouth. sure, she didn't actually speak, but she mis-typed? mis-spoke over twitter dms to ash. jan hated herself more and more with every response from ash. why the hell did she think it would be a good idea to go to anyone for comfort? especially when her night was made a living hell by the host of the party, whom everyone loved or feared. her words came out wrong, and ash took it as jan wanted her to speak bad about genevive, which could not be further from the truth.

and of course ash would tell eli. jan didn't expect anything else, which is why by the time eli tried to dm her, telling her she shouldn't spend the night anymore, she was already gone. she didn't want to cause anymore trouble than she already had, which was a lot.

she knew she promised her mom that she wouldn't walk home, but she didn't know anyone else besides ash and eli, and she knew they wouldn't drive her home. she knew the dangers of walking home that late in the dark, and that fear plus the wind chill was enough to cause jan to be shivering all the way home. but what was she supposed to do? she wasn't about to have her mommy come pick her up from that party, and she wasn't about to ask a stranger to drive her home.

she hated everything

everyone's life would be so much better if i would've not reapplied for the visuals department. if i would've just, accepted my failure, i'd be back at arizona, still with all my friends, never having met elias johannes.

but was that truly better?

was january quinten honestly ready to trade out the best part of that night? to completely write it out of her memory because the rest of the night went to shit?

i bet eli already has.

i bet eli's already told gen everything, i bet he's not even upset. well obviously he's upset but not over me, over what i said, no matter how ash put it.

i deserve it.

why the hell would i deserve anything else?

why the hell would i deserve anything that makes me happy? no way someone that's gone through the shit i have would ever deserve the kind of happiness and joy i felt when eli kissed me.

i'm supposed to be this miserable.


by the time jan got back home, she ended up making up with ash. which was better than nothing, they were both having crappy nights and at least jan had some kind of friend. not some kind of friend, her best friend at HA. they had both apologized because they both said things that didn't really mean, so jan felt the smallest, teeny most tiniest weight lift off her shoulders.

there was still a massive lead weight on her chest, her shoulders, it was crippling. her wolf of anxiety had her by the throat, she felt like every breath was forced and harder than the last. she very strongly considered sneaking some of her mom's alcohol, no matter what it was.

but by the time she walked into her room, she was far too exhausted for that. no, instead, she broke down all over again. she started crying, not caring if her mom woke up, all hell broke loose and was tearing through her throat.

she ripped off the stupid fucking costume, it was suffocating her; she clawed and ripped and tore, whatever it took to get it off her body. she threw it against the wall, not satisfied with the lack of damage some ripped fabric did and searched for anything else.

her eyes darted to the bookshelf, the top shelf being filled with different nick knacks she collected over the years, but the second shelf? all books. so jan grabbed one after the other and threw them against the wall. each book causing a different dent in the wall. jan was screaming, yelling, sobbing, the tears were running down her face.

how could i be so fucking stupid?

how could i have fucked things up this bad?

why the hell am i even here?


naturally, the commotion woke her mother up. her mom rushed over to her daughter's bedroom and opened the door to see a heartbreaking scene. her daughter, crumpled on the floor, booked strewn about on the floor. jan's eyes looked at her mother through her tears, still sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.

"january..." her mom started, only concerned with what happened to her. "what's wrong?" she lowered herself to the floor, holding her daughter's shoulders.

"what's wrong with me?!" it came out of her throat in a heart wrenching scream. her mother's heart ached and she immediately drew jan into her chest, her child shaking from sobbing. "why do i fuck up all the time? why do i ruin everything?" she continued screaming at her mom, her mother stroking her hair and starting to rock her back and fourth. she felt tears of her own filling up her eyes.

jan had no idea how long she was there, being held by her mom and sobbing, but it was long enough for her voice to be hoarse, her throat was already sore by the time she started to calm down. her mom told her to get dressed and go to bed, she didn't even bother asking what went wrong, what happened. she knew her daughter, if it was something truly awful, jan would've told her immediately.

her mom picked up everything by the time jan was in her bed, and she was clocked out by the time her head his the pillow.

~~

jan felt even worse in the morning. all of her mistakes slapped her in the face as soon as she woke up, causing her head to fall back onto the pillow. she tried to let out a groan as she laid there, just for her throat to be all the more pissed off at her. she remembered her breakdown the night before and wanted to stay in bed forever, just melt away under her blankets.

however she knew that wasn't an option.

nope. jan cried her tears, she had her pity party, now she had to grow up and face the music.

while last night, she spent too much time thinking everything was hopeless, with the light of day came the realization and hope that maybe this was fixable. maybe everything wasn't over.

jan had accepted the fact that she lost eli as a romantic interest, she was convinced that any potential romance between them was over. all she wanted was her friend back. she hated the feeling of eli hating her, and she wanted to do whatever she could to make it better. she just wanted her friend back.

the only way to do that?

show up to the studio, do the shoot. even if he doesn't want to talk to her then, at least she wouldn't have bailed on everything completely, hopefully it would go a long way in the long run.

so that's exactly what she was going to do.

jan was determined to try and fix things as best she could. it was amazing the confidence that jan had when romance wasn't in the picture.

she got out of bed, took a shower, washed any makeup or remembrance from the halloween party the night before. she couldn't go into this shoot feeling dirty and worthless. no. she had to be fresh and clean and ready.

the wolves inside her were indifferent, confused. this kind of determination wasn't like her, her anxiety tried to regain its grip on jan, but couldn't; every attempt of attack on jan's confidence was futile. jan wasn't getting shaken today.

once she was out of the shower, her first instinct was to get dressed up, do some makeup and maybe curl her hair. she had to tell herself no, this wasn't about impressing eli. eli wouldn't give a damn how jan looked, so why bother? she brushed out her hair, letting it fall naturally and threw on a shirt and some jeans. it was still pretty chilly, so she opted for a jacket. one of her favorite red jackets, she loved the confidence it gave her.

her eyes glanced toward her bed, at a certain jacket that had been laying there since she came home with it from the fall fest.

it was eli's.

there was a twang at her heart, she remembered that night. showing him the stars, finally going on a ferris wheel, she had it checked off as a good night.

she missed that.

but she forced herself to shake off those feelings. a guy giving a girl his jacket had romantic implications written all over it. she had to give it back. it was long overdue, and she knew it was something she had to do.

she took in a big breath and let it go. she had to remember what was going down today. it was professional, just like eli said. this was a matter of professionalism, and jan wasn't about to start her career as a photographer as chickening out. her future after HA depended on this. she had to get these pictures for her winter arts project and eli needed them to help promote his studio.

jan was so focused on packing up her gear that she didn't even eat breakfast. she didn't have that much gear, it all fit into a roller suitcase that her mom got her when she got into HA for photography. it proved incredibly useful since jan still didn't have a car. after triple checking that she had everything she needed for the shoot, she bid her mom goodbye and headed out the door.

walking all the way to the studio, following the address that eli texted her sometime last night, she finally arrived. she tried the door but it was locked. eli probably had the key.

that's okay. better early than late, right? professionalism at its finest.

now all she had to do was wait.
º º code by ditto º º
 

Nathan Woods
"Here I am, living a dream that I can't hold on my own."

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has set their status to:
fuck

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has interacted with:
Liv

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has mentioned:
Evie

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has tagged:
Soap Soap
His head was pounding when he woke up in the morning.

Nate could hear the chirping of his phone from... somewhere -- that's what had pulled him out of his fevered dreams. The soft bzzt of his phone. Instinctively, he reached for his nightstand where his phone should've been located. Except his hand just hit the wood of his nightstand and his fingers grazed the surface, but didn't bump into his phone.

Okay what the fuck?

He must've forgotten to plug it in when he got home last night. That would've made sense. Nate hadn't been uhh... well, he'd been kind of out of it. All of last night was kind of a blur of events that faded together.

Nate remembered the really big fucking mistake that he'd made which had landed him here, alone, in his bed.

Weed made Nate too honest -- something that was good to know but would've been better to know if he could've just... kept a handle on it so he hadn't fucked up his only decent hookup. What the fuck was he going to do now? Gus hated him, Evie hated him... he'd fucked his way through most of the rest of the school.

If he hadn't smoked, he wouldn't have made that big fucking mistake that had been him telling Evie that he liked her as more than just a quick hookup or as more than just a friend. If he hadn't smoked, then he would've gone home with her and wouldn't have been fucking alone in his bed like some pathetic loser.

Idiot.

Anyway, then he remembered going to Liv. Taking the pills from her. Getting so high off his ass that he couldn't remember shit and-- fuck, had he left his car at Gen's? There was no way he would laying in his bed breathing right now if he'd tried to drive while he was that fucked up, which meant he was going to have to make the walk of shame from his apartment back to Gen's house to grab his car.

Well, at the very least, he'd been forced to park a fair distance away from her house -- which meant that she wouldn't see him coming to pick up his car.

Alright, enough moping. He needed to get out of bed.

Nate groaned, rolling over onto his back and pushing himself up. His eyes were still closed and he brought the palms of his hands up to rub at his eyes. He dropped his hands back into his lap, his eyes blinking open, and that's when he realized something.

This wasn't his room.

For a moment, his bleary brain thought maybe he had gone home with Evie, except that this clearly wasn't her room, either. His eyebrows drew together and he looked down at the blankets, and then over to the other occupant in the bed.

Oh fuck.

Liv. He'd gone home with Liv.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His phone buzzed again and Nate looked in the direction to see his jeans. Great. Well. At least he'd found his phone.

He threw the covers back and got out of the bed. Nate ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back away from his eyes before he leaned down, grabbing up his pants and feeling around in the pockets until he pulled out his phone. He dropped his pants back to the ground and switched his phone on to see who was trying to contact him this early.

His heart stopped beating. His stomach plummeted.

Evie.

Nate's mouth felt dry. His stilled heart started beating again as he clicked to open up the message, and reading it over just made him realize what an absolute fucking jackass he was.

"Fuck," he snapped, no longer caring if he woke up Liv. He dropped his phone onto his pants and covered his face with his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes while he just uttered "fuck" over and over again.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. It's Evie. She wants to talk."
º º code by ditto º º
 

ryder alistar
@rydeonme has set their status to:
i'm the best friend

@rydeonme has set their outfit to:


@rydeonme has set their location to:

my bathroom

@rydeonme has mentioned:
N/A

@rydeonme has interacted with:
mike

@rydeonme has tagged:
ditto ditto

@rydeonme has written a tl;dr:
opening up is a bitch

man was ryder excited to be home. not that he didn't love being on tour, tour was the experience of a lifetime for ryder. there was nothing like traveling around the state, playing to huge stadiums filled with crowds screaming his name. the most ryder was used to was random local competitions and whatever gig he could land in town. but a full fledged tour? it was everything he ever wanted. it was only uphill from there. next would be a regional tour, then nation wide, and hopefully soon, he'd be playing worldwide tours on a regular basis.

ryder was born to be a rock star, he just knew it. everything about a rockstar lifestyle screamed "ryder alistar". the music, the late nights partying, the fans, the money, the girls all of it was perfect for him. and with the number of lucky ladies he came across on his tour and spent some quality time with? ryder was definitely looking forward to more tours.

but every now and then, it was good to return home. of course it also helped that home, in ryder's case, was a mansion paid for by his insanely rich mother and step-father. but hey, it was all things that ryder never had to worry about. people called him a spoiled brat but what was he supposed to do about it? not take advantage of the hand life dealt him? of course not, ryder was dealt an amazing hand from the get go and he wasn't about to level the playing field for himself any time soon.

of course, a return home to hollywood wouldn't be complete without people bitching at him on twitter. it was nice, ryder loved knowing he could get under everyone's skin just by being present on social media. it almost gave him a power high, every time someone started to jump down his throat for the dumbest thing. ryder swore that most everyone on the school twitter was too sensitive and hypocritical to be on any social media. he also knew that no one would ever follow through on their threats to him, so of course he would just create chaos and thrive.

so ryder's halloween night was filled with sitting in his living room, watching whatever was on tv, sipping lemon honey tea, and scrolling through twitter. and apparently finding out that gen's so called "halloween party" was turning out to be more and more shit with every passing minute. not only was landon sinclaire trying to jump on his dick for being friends with his sister, but apparently it got out that mike and liv slept together soon after gen and liv broke up.

what a pack of hypocrites. gen's trying to make mike to be the bad guy when he literally did nothing wrong. who is she to talk? her best friend and kordei cheated on amy of all people. at least mike and liv were both single.

the way ryder saw it was they were two single, horny, sexy people, looking for a good time. ryder could definitely understand that. he had definitely lent his spare time to some lonely girls, looking for a good time.

and much to ryder's surprise, his best bud ended up actually sleeping with gen. ryder loved mike to death but gen? come on mikey, you can definitely do better than that, how desperate did you have to be? gen was one of the most hypocritical people ryder had ever come across. she thought she had everyone under her thumb out of pure fear. she was so incredibly power hungry and attention seeking that she had to make everything about her, and whatever she had to say was law and if anyone thought differently from her, they were some awful, horrible prick.

which is why he loved getting under her skin. he loved knowing that he could get her, and many others, so incredibly worked up by just being around. it was wonderful.

what was not wonderful was cleaning up after a friend's hang over. which is exactly what ryder was about to do.

after the halloween party, mike made his way to ryder and felix's place. ryder always had his door open for mike. they hadn't been friends for that long, but they just bonded too fast to not be best friends. mike was the one person ryder trusted most in the world, he was always there for him when he needed, and ryder was always there for mike. so of course when mike asked to come pass out in his tub with a bottle of wine, there was no way ryder was saying no.

but here he was, at 8 am in the morning, making his way across the hall to the bathroom where mike was, ready to go into full mom mode. he had a glass of water, ready to go, at least three asprins on deck, and even some rags that he'd probably have to wet and put on mike's neck and forehead to keep him from overheating.

ryder had been through the hangover phase before. while he always indulged in a one night stand, he couldn't risk a bad reputation of himself floating around out there, so he always had the best aftercare. that included the morning after, completely with hangover care & breakfast.

however, mike wasn't a hot chick that he had just banged the night before.

nope

this was mike

his best friend

who he loved most in the world

so of course the only logical thing to do was to splash the glass of water in his face to wake him up.

"hey asshat, get up so i can know what to make you for breakfast."

º º code by ditto º º
 
[
I'm still young, wasting my youth
I'll grow up next summer

M O O D : regret? pfft. no. yes. shut the hell up.

O U T F I T : boxers

L O C A T I O N : ryder's bougie fucking mansion

M E N T I O N S : gen, liv

I N T E R A C T I O N S : ryder

T A G S : sunshineysoul sunshineysoul

Michael Reid was a big fan of getting black-out drunk and waking up in strange places in the wee hours of the morning with a throbbing headache and little to know memory of the night before. Ya know, added a little bit of spice to the morning, trying to piece together what the hell had happened while you searched for your clothes. Threw in a bit of intrigue, ya know. A bit of mystery. Like Clue, but for whores. Hell, if you were lucky, the girl you’d woken up next to would be headache-less enough to offer you another round, and that was always a fucking great thing to wake up to. Hookups helped cure hangovers.

Michael Reid was not a big fan of waking up to freezing liquid being splashed on his face. It was at the middle level of his worst things to wake up to list.

If you were wondering what was at the top, one of the things was warm liquid. There was nothing worse than waking up to piss-face.

And, yeah, before you asked, he'd had experiences in regards to those things, and he didn't want to ever have those experiences again, fuck you very much.

Can you guess which option he got?

Fuck it, at least the liquid was cold, ya know. He wasn't an optimist, but he was glad that it wasn't a fucking vat of coffee or some dude's dick dribble.

Hmg…?” Mike groaned, his brows knitting slightly as he lifted his head up slowly, eyes still closed as his brain gave a jolt of spinning pain through his head. He brought his hand to his face to rub his eyes, only to be met with the slickness of cold water.

He opened his eyes in confusion. His brows lowered, and his eyes squinted as he looked up at the figure above him. The face was a shadow thanks to the fact that the bathroom light was directly above, and his face had a lost expression on it. “The hell…?” he mumbled. “Who…”

He looked around and beside himself, the grogginess of sleep inhibiting him from immediately recalling the why and how him being here but doing the bare minimum and tipping him off to at least let him know that he was in Ryder’s tub, which he knew all too well, and that he had a hellish headache that could only mean that he’d drank himself until passing out in here again.

He looked back at the figure that could only have been that of his best friend. “Good morning to you, too…,” he grumbled, leaning his head back again and closing his eyes. “Just lemme sleep, bro…” He let out a quiet groan and put a hand to his forehead. “Lemme just mope around…fuck.” He sighed through his nose, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Goddamn it…”

He remembered last night. Yeah, already. He’d hoped to at least but up and functioning before he recalled, but the world fucking loved to see him suffer, didn’t it?

He slowly raised himself up from his laying position. Yeah, he knew, he was a big fucking hypocrite with the whole lemme sleep and then rousing himself, but didn’t last night make it fucking obvious? He was a hypocritical asshole with no standards.

(Was it obvious that he wasn’t in a good mood? Yeah, the fucking hangover wasn’t helping.)

He glanced up at Ryder, then set his face forward and held his hand out for the medicine that he knew Ryder had, since he had it every time that Mike came to pass out in his bathtub. “Thanks, Mom,” he said sarcastically, tossing the medicine down and mumbling with his mouth full “wa’er”, holding his hand out for the glass. He downed the glass' contents in a couple of gulps, then closed his eyes and leaned his head back with a sigh. “Fuck.” He held the thing out for Ryder. “Fuck.”

Fuck, what had he fucking done to himself last night? Just fucking destroyed any chance of redemption?

If this was one of those fucking teen dramas where the writers delighted in the suffering of their characters, then his sadistic author or whatever the hell was certainly getting their fucking kicks. One kick after a-fucking-nother.

He’d told himself that he’d fuck any girl if they were down. Fuck, that still fucking stood. As long as they were hot and he had a condom— or, fuck it, just if he had a condom— he was down for anywhere, any time, with pretty much any girl. Even given that, he still had exceptions to that rule. A guy had to have standards, right?

And there was one person who he knew was below his standards.

And that one person?

Genevieve motherfucking Johannes.

The one who said that she was the best fuck that you could ever get when she honestly wasn't even close.

That bitch who he didn't get involved with, because shit too messy with her, no matter how hot she was, and sleeping with her was just stroking her over-inflated ego.

Sure, they’d been friends until last night, but like hell was he seriously ever going to sleep with her, even then.

Flirtation? Hell yeah. He flirted with literally fucking anything. Whooptie fucking doo, Mike was a whore, move on from it.

But sex with her? Hell no.

It wasn’t because of some fucking guilt or anything. Don’t bring up that bullshit— like, “oh, he obviously regretted with being her ex’s rebound and feels so bad that he’d never sleep with the bitch herself”, because hell no, that wasn’t who he fucking was. Michael K. Reid didn’t have fucking regrets.

Even when he fucking did.

Sleeping with her was just enforcing whatever stupid fucking ideas she had of him, and he didn’t want to fucking do that.

But too late, he guessed.

He'd unfuck her if he could.

The short, stocky boy opened his eyes, gripping either side of the bathtub as he stood, his muscles flexing. He placed his foot on his something fuzzy as he stepped out of the bathtub and back onto solid ground.

He picked his foot up, glancing down to see what the weird sensation against his foot was, only to find that it was his fucking angel wings.

Stupid fucking costume. Waste of his fucking time.

He shoved his foot down on it, kicking it aside, and a feather flew off of it as the cardboard accessory whipped to the other side of the large bathroom, its broken rubber bands bouncing behind it on the tile as they dragged the floor.

He glared up at Ryder for a moment before wincing at the light and looking away. “You got a shirt, bro?” he asked in his gruff, tired voice as he grabbed his wrinkly button-up from its spot on the top of the bougie ass toilet. He fucking hated how richie rich Ryder’s place was. He fucking hated all mansions. Call him a crazy coupon lady or whatever the hell, but seeing people waste money on stupid shit like toilets with guilded handles just pissed him off. Then again, it was Ryder’s place, so that made it better. Trust him, it was better knowing that wastefully fancy shit didn't belong to a stuck-up asshole and instead to just a regular one. “This one fucking smells— and my fucking pants. Fuck, I need a shower.” He began to undo his pants with a long sigh. “And food. And fucking sleep.” He shook his second pants leg off and left it at the entrance to the bathroom, looking back at Ryder before slumping against the doorway.

Fuck,” he mumbled. “Fuck. Fuck...fuck.”

Fuck it all.

As Ryder approached him, he drew in a deep breath through his nose. “Thanks for letting me use your tub,” he sighed. “You said something about breakfast? I'll grace you with my presence long enough to eat whatever you're making me." He rubbed his eyes. "Just don't get eggshells in my omelette, and we'll be good."
MICHAEL K. REID
º º code by ditto º º
 
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"Life is much more fun in the fast lane..."
Josephine Bennett

@JoMama has set status to:
"Hungover on my birthday..."

@JosieMama has set outfit to:
Nothing but a t-shirt.

@JosieMama has set location to:
Bed.

@JosieMama has interacted with:
Guess who...

@JosieMama has tagged:

ditto ditto

Although Josie could hear the noise around her, she hadn't moved a muscle and she damn sure hadn't dared to open her eyes. The pounding headache was present even now as she laid there in utter darkness which wasn't really much of a surprise seeing as to how she'd drank her weight in whatever the fuck she'd been able to get her hands on and smoked enough to make Cheech and Chong look like rookies.

If she was being honest, it’d have been great to just lay in whatever bed she’d managed to find herself in forever but she knew that she wasn’t able to. After all, it was her birthday today and she had plans with her friends. Even though it wasn’t until way later, she still needed to get used to being up or else she might cancel and sleep the day away. That was no way to spend your seventeenth birthday, especially not for a girl like Josephine.

So, very reluctantly, she shifted in the bed until she got the will to let her eyes flutter open. It took her a good few blinks before her eyes adjusted to the light peering through the window but she immediately realized where she was. Then she started to remember a little bit more of the previous night. Well, at least the car ride and how she’d told Saint she didn’t want to go home because of the tension with Trevor and Charlie.

The rest was a blur which wasn’t exactly a good thing seeing as how she was waking up in Saint’s bed, barely dressed. By barely dressed she meant in a t-shirt she recognized as his and...that was it.

The reality of the situation caused her to panic a little bit, trying to search her mind for what had happened but she struggled to even pull one shred of a memory that came after they got into the car. She remembered him helping her to the car, then singing along to one of her favorite songs on the radio...then nothing. Shit.

Jo had done a lot of things but sleeping with Saint again wasn't something she was eager to cross off her list. Not that sleeping with Saint was the worst thing, it's not like she would mind doing it again eventually but right now it'd only prove what he'd been saying. That she wanted him. That despite what he'd done or how it had ended, she was the one who wanted him back. That's what she was trying to avoid since the breakup. Admitting she missed anything about him was a big fucking no. Just like sleeping with him again!

Yet here she was...in his bed...in his shirt and fuck...

Her eyes darted towards the bedroom door as the knob turned and then she shut them tightly as if that would change the reality of the situation. News flash, it did not. This was still happening. She was still here.

They fluttered open once more to land on Saint as he moved to sit on the bed and while she should've gone straight to asking what the hell had happened and why she was half-dressed, her mind couldn't focus on that. Not when she'd caught a, very sober, glimpse of him shirtless, the scattered droplets of water that still clung to his chest glistening in the light gave her flashbacks to when things were...different. When this was more routine and less cause for panic.

When Josie finally decided to sit up her hand was quick to fly up to her forehead and a groan escaped her lips. God, moving only made the headache worse, as expected. "Fuck," she broke the silence without realizing she'd said it out loud at first but it was said for more than reason. Fuck, her head hurt. Fuck, where was her phone? Fuck, what the hell happened last night? You know, the usual. For Jo.

Shoving the blanket over as she searched the bed for her phone, the girl could only hope that she hadn't left it somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time she misplaced her stuff at a party though. "Good morning? I think. I don't really know what time it is. Have you seen my phone?" she asked calmly even though inside she was still completely freaking out with a thousand other questions, more important ones.

"So, uh, what happened last night? I mean, did we...? We didn't...hook up? Right?" she finally spat the words out. "Shit. I just, not that it would be...just...did we?" Jo tried to backtrack, but she wasn't sure why. To spare his feelings? It wasn't like he would care. Even if the answer to her question was yes and she said she regretted sleeping with him, he didn't care about her opinion. He never had, right? Now that they weren't together, he damn sure had no reason to. He'd made that much clear. Over and over.

Her chocolate gaze moved from the bed to where he was as she searched his expression for even a hint of what had happened. "I should've had you take me home. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have intruded or whatever. I just...shit-" she paused, unsure of why she was even apologizing. Was she sorry she came here? If they had slept together would she actually regret it? Even she had no clue as the question remained unanswered.
º º code by ditto º º
 
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[
I am, I am trying
The best that I can

M O O D : please click

O U T F I T : t-shirt & sweatpants

L O C A T I O N : the apartment

M E N T I O N S : jo, amy, charlie, chas (i think he mentioned lucky, too...look, this post is so long and he hates him, so he probably did)

I N T E R A C T I O N S : ash

T A G S : Winona Winona

The hazy morning light pushed through the large slits of the white blinds, hundreds of dust particles swirling and dancing in the stream as they made their ways right to the eyelids of the half-dressed teenaged boy who lay halfway off of his bed, his hands twitching slightly as an early sign that he was beginning to awaken.

So damn bright…

Trevor’s eyebrows twitched together for a moment, and he rolled onto his right side to face away from the window, bringing his hand to his face to cover his eyes and rubbing them as his head gave its first throb of the morning. He groaned softly, letting out a long sigh and lowering his hand, squeezing his eyes together. “Feck,” he mumbled, and his head gave a pulse in agreement.

He lay still for a few minutes, listening to the air blow from his vent and wincing at the sound as he faded into consciousness.

So damn loud…

He raised up, running his hands through his sleep-tossed, dark brown hair, and he risked opening his eyes to be small slits. He grimaced as the sight of the brightness of his room, but his eyes slowly adjusted, and he gradually opened his eyes wider.

He shouldn’t’ve drank so much last night…

He quickly glanced to his side, trying to be sure that he hadn’t made a really fucking big mistake. He was met with a pleasant sight, thankfully: he saw no girl to either of his sides, and, glancing around the room, there was no sign of hastily discarded garments that seemed to belong to his preferred partner’s sex, so unless he’d switched teams and the person who he’d taken home last night had worn the exact shirt that he’d been wearing for his Shaggy costume— and had just so happened to leave that exact shirt behind— he was clear of having made any mistakes.

Well, pretty much.

There was still the slightest possibility that he had royally fucked up, but it was doubtful. Trevor could handle himself pretty well when he was drunk.

Unless he was pissed, but...even then, Trevor was pretty good with self-control, regardless of what others said.

He could remember jack shite from last night, to be frank, so it wouldn’t’ve been too surprising. He could pretty much remember up to where he went off with Jo, and then…

…wait, feck.

Did that mean that he and Ash hadn’t fuc—

Damn it.

The whole night had been a fecking waste, then.

That squandered any hope of it having been anything near decent.

A vibration from the phone on his nightstand caused the boy to jerk in surprise, his heart leaping into his throat for a moment before he realized that he wasn’t being attacked. Tiredly, he leaned over to see it, squinting his eyes as soon as the light from the device hit his face.

On top of several texts from his grandmother that he didn't even want to bother reading this early, he saw a new notification:

f CALENDAR fillerfiffllerfilleffrfillerfillerfiller a moment ago

NOVEMBER 1ST
Birthday


What kind of dumbarse set a reminder for his own birthday?

…oh, right.

Well, it was his birthday.

Sean Trevor Callaghan was seventeen.

…damn. He felt fecking ancient.

Another year down the drain, another...two to go, if he was lucky.

And Trevor was notorious for his shitty luck; luck o' the Irish was bullshite, and he was a testament to that fact.

He placed his feet on the floor beside his bed, shoving the phone into his p—

His underwear didn’t have pockets.

His phone dropped to the floor, and he slowly looked down at the object.

He stared at it for a moment, letting out a long sigh.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, not wanting to stoop down to pick it up.

His head throbbed in agreement.

He shouldn’t’ve drank so much last night…

He bent down, grabbing his phone up, scanning the room for some kind of clothing to throw on, and giving up when he saw nothing besides last night’s green shirt. It was too much effort to fight through the fog just to look for some clothes. His roommates had seen more of him, anyway; it wasn't like them seeing him in his boxers again would scar them for life. He groggily trod over to his door and grabbed ahold of the knob.

Time to start the day, he thought, twisting his wrist and throwing the door open.

He walked down the hallway, rubbing the side of his head tiredly as he made his way past his roommates’ doors. He noted that they were all wide open, but he didn't really get what that meant besides that they probably weren't all in their rooms.

He sighed deeply as he came into the open space of the living room, walking through it and to the kitchen. Throwing open the cabinet doors, he grabbed a bowl and placed it on the counter, which had no cereal boxes haphazardly cast down on their sides or left open for him to close. His roommates were finally cleaning up after themselves; he wasn't going to complain. He gripped a box of Lucky Charms a bit too tightly and dumped himself a bowl of cereal, gritting his teeth as he went to retrieve the milk to pour over the meal.

His grandmother would chew him out for having the sugary cereal for breakfast. She always nagged him for eating boxed and packaged breakfasts when he went back home in the summer months and the winter breaks to Sallins, and, every time he poured himself some for a quick breakfast, he felt like he was sticking it to his nana in a way.

If his grandparents home had a Yelp!, he'd rate it two of five stars and only leave the note "helicopter Nana".

He finally seated himself at the table, setting a glass of cold water before himself. He stared at the bowl and glass in front of him for a second, and then realized that he would need a spoon.

So he just sat.

And he sighed.

He didn't want to get up.

His head hurt so fecking much.

Mumbling a few choice words beneath his breath, he forced himself to stand and get himself a spoon, and he threw himself back down into the chair and finally began to eat his breakfast.

As he crunched on the cereal, his head protested, telling him to take some fecking medicine and go back to sleep; it's your feckin' birthday, for Christ’s sake, and you had no business being awake this early. He wanted to obey, but...damn it, it was a lot to even move, and it wasn't like his roommates seemed to be around to help.

Hey...wait a second...

Where the hell was everyone else?

He was up front in his underwear, for feck’s sake.

Where was Charlie, griping at him, or Amy, covering her eyes and backing slowly into her room, or Jo, offering some of her wardrobe to him?

Something didn't feel right.

Wasn’t there supposed to be some…party of some sort or something…? A dinner or something...?

He was supposed to sleep until seven pm or something...? Or...something.

He couldn’t quite remember. It was hidden somewhere behind the veil of tired and confused, and he didn't want to crack open those cans of worms just yet...

It was a lot to think. Not even just...a big amount to think about. It was just a lot to think...a lot of effort, and…

Feeeck…

He shouldn’t’ve drank so much last night…

He stood, picking his phone up from his lap and setting it to the side of his bowl, which he slowly picked up and placed in the sink. His vision was limited thanks to his squinting, but his hands found the cabinets above the sink. He pulled them open and scanned the medicine bottles inside.

Not Pepto Bismol, not Tums...there.

He picked out the aspirin, pulling it out from the cabinet. He pressed his palm on the top and gave his wrist a solid twist to get the lid off.

A solid twist to get the—...

A solid—...

Oh, for Christ's sake, now the bottle wasn't going to open?

"Childproof lid, my arse," he mumbled, giving it a solid hit against the counter before bringing it up to squint at. He was a man and couldn't fecking open i—...

Oh.

He hadn't had the arrows lined up.

With a sigh, he defeated his foe, pulling its head off, and he tapped two pills into his hand. He twisted the red lid of the medicine bottle back on and placed it back in its place in the cabinet, then went back to the table and grabbed his glass.

For a moment after he swallowed his medicine, he stood, staring at the cabinet blankly.

He closed his eyes, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, and he sighed, groaning softly.

His head was fecking killing him.

And he had no idea what to do now.

He reopened his eyes gently shut the cabinets, trying to make as little noise and motion as possible. It was feckin' too much to function as it was, and he knew moving too quickly or slamming the cabinets would only worsen his gigantic fucking headache.

Vvt, vvt, vvt.

He glanced back at the table at his phone, as if proving its existence to himself once again was going to give him any real motivation to go and look at it.

He considered laying down in the floor and going to sleep there.

Charlie would come and kick him awake when she needed to, anyway.

Plus…he couldn’t think of really any reason to go over there and look at his phone.

Something in him made him go over and check it, anyway. W'atever...

He walked over to his phone and picked it up.

Seeing the name on the screen caused a throb in his…chest.

f MESSAGES fillerfiffllerfilleffrfillerfillerfiller 4 minutes ago

Ash
one new message
Hey, am I still coming over?
Was she—...
Yeah.
Hell yeah was more like it. His girlfriend was coming over on his birthday, which had certain implications. Did she expect him to say no to that?

He glanced back at his phone, grinning to himself as he unlocked it.

His last sent messages were the first things that popped up.
😃
Oh, fuck.

He let out a long groan.

He knew what that emoji meant...

"Goddamn...feckin'...Christ," he muttered beneath his breath.

What had he fecking done now...?

With something akin to morbid curiosity, Trevor gave his first forceful swipe downwards to look back at his old messages.

And the further he scrolled back, the more that his head began to throb, the more he wanted to retract into a black hole and cease to exist, and the more he really fucking regretting getting out last night.
Neither do you
My best friend hates my fucking guts because I said I wanted to be alone and she toook it as me mocking her efforts and tellIN G EHR TO FUCK OFF
and thats not what I meant at all
and thens he cancelled her boyfriend plans ro wateverw the fuck
and shes blaing me for her life being MISERABLE
WHAT THE FUCKIGN HELL
MY NIGHT HAS BEEN SHIT
AND I CANT TALK TO JO ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I HAVE ALREADY AND SHE DOESNT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT IT APPARENTLY
AND I CANT TALK TO CHARLIE ABOUT THIS BECAUSE IVE FUCKED THINGS UP IWTH HER ABOUT IT
AND I CANT TALK TO AMY ABOUT THIS Becuase i haven tltold her anything
and os im stuck just telling you
I appreciate you
Oh my gOD I suck i' sorry
I'm wasting your time
I'll come nad find you
and you can look away while i drink your bottle okay thanks
I want to jump off of a fucking cliff.

He leaned back against the counter, putting his right hand to his temple and closing his eyes as he rubbed it.

"W'at the fuck did I do...?" he muttered to himself, his voice dripping with the embarrassment that he felt to his core.

His stomach had bottomed, and he knew that his face had to be as pale as a sheet.

Oh, for Christ's sake, why had he drank so much last night?

You know, maybe he should’ve drank some more. A hospital visit seemed kind of nice right now…he could have just casually slipped into a coma…from which he never awoke.

That seemed so much more pleasant than reading back and piecing together last night's...events.

Reluctantly, he continued to read back on his conversation, the word regretregretregretregretregretregretregretregret wearing into his head on repeat, the feeling of those words balled up in his chest and his throat.

It did feckin’ wonders for his throbbing head.

Godda—...he'd made an arse of himself, hadn’t he?

At the fecking least, he’d made himself look pathetic in front of his girlfriend...

Which meant that, unless she was down for pity sex, her visit wasn't going to go as pleasantly as his first instinct had told him.

God...feckin'...damn it.

His head hurt so bad. He felt so sick with himself.

He shouldn't've drank so much last night.

And, from what he could tell with Ash's texts...

His texts to her weren't the only bad decision that he'd made last night.

Which left him to wonder, in disappointment: what else could he have fucking done?

Had his past self just...wanted to give him hell this morning?

Biting the bullet like a desperate gambling addict who'd begun to scratch off a number that he knew already wasn't the one he needed to finally hit the jackpot, Trevor tapped the back arrow and then into Amy's messages.

And...

"Holy...shite."

It looked as if he'd told Amy about—...

Fucking everything...

"Shite, shite, shite," he cursed, closing his eyes and letting his hand sink.

I'll uphold my end of the deal; I'll show her that I'm capable. I'll keep the secret.

What the...feck had happened to that?

With a sigh, he continued to look back in his messages, reading with the devastation of a parent watching their child break down on a stage.
I said that from the start. I have proof she misunderstood me and I feel so badd because I made her think that I didn't care about what she was doing for me and that wasn't it at all but now she won't listen to me. I said that I wanted to be alone but I wante dto still do the dinner that was the deal. I cna't thnk right now oh my God yeah it was Ash but there's jsut so much that I can't say and not because I want to just becuas eif I say it it'll fuck everyhtingup even more nad i can't do that.
Trying to read all of this hurt his head, and not just because of all of the fecking typos.

He didn't know what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.

A fecking breakdown to Amy...well, he'd expected that much. It wasn't like Amy hadn't been broken down to before by him.

But...this mess? This mess that he had figured out was him saying literally everything wrong to Charlie...?

God...damn, how fucking dumb was he? Could he not be left unsupervised for five minutes?

Next were Jo's messages.
I gues I jsut kep tmisunderstanding her and she kept misunderstanding me and now its FUCKING SCREWED OH MY GOD.
As he read through all of his messages to her, he could piece together nothing more than he could before, though he had gained the fact that Jo had been just as lost on the situation as he seemed to be.

Next were...

Charlie's.

He stared at the name on his phone for a solid minute.

Charlie Howell.

It was a fecking egg-sized rectal suppository that he knew he was going to have to suck it up about and shove in.

Well...bite the pillow, Trevor.
I DIDN'T NOT WNAT YOU TO NOT DOSOMETHING NICE FOR ME I DIDN'T THROW IT BACK IN YOUR FACE YOU MISUNDERSTOOD ME AND THAT WAS THAT AND I SADI THAT YOU MISUDNERSTOOD ME AND ALL YOU DID WAS GET MADDER AND MADDER AT ME
I HAD PLANS OKAY Y
OU COULD HAVE A FUN NIGHT YOU CAN HAVE A FUN NIGHT
ALL I WNAT YOU TO DO IS JUST
I JUST
LOOK.
WE HAD THE PARTY SET FOR TOMORROW NIGHT.
LET'S STILL HAVE IT.
LET'S ACT LIEK THIS ENVER HAPPENED.
BECAUSE at this point none of this fucking bullshtie is getting us anywhere
because im saying that i wasnt right and youre upset at me becaus eyou think that i think tha ti was right or something like that an di dont want to talk about it anymrore
I just want to go back
To having the dinner party to letting me sleep until seven
To you ahving whatever you had with your boyfriend
that's it
That's all I want
That's all I want
Everythign I said tonight has just been steam okay
I'm fucking
I don't evne know fi I'll even rembme rthis toorrow okay
and I don't wnat to wake up to knwognn
that all I did was fuck myself over and dig myself a hole with my best friend
...fuck.

You know...

Just...

F—...

He...

Setting his phone down on the counter slowly and backing away from it, Trevor and his throbbing head walked to the couch and stood by it for a moment, staring at the throw pillows.

Then he dropped face down and went right to sleep.

well, that’s one way to face your problems— just don’t

Blowing out a long stream of smoke, Trevor, unthinking, peered out at the buildings, his eyes focused on one non-particular spot in particular as the reflective windows burned purple into his corneas.

His headache, at some point during his nap (and perhaps also thanks to the joint between his fingers), had eased up, and he had tried to will himself to simply ignore the catching up that he had done because he didn't want to think about it right now.

Yeah...willing himself to do or think things never really worked well.

In the thirty minutes since he'd awoken from his nap, all he had thought to himself was goddamn it, what a fecking dumbarse ya are, because he was, in fact, a fecking dumbarse. Not only had he concluded that he was the worst in general (or, well, reminded himself that he was, because he was and the fact seemed to slip his mind often), but he had also concluded that he was the worst friend.

He...was going to have to grovel at Charlie's feet...because, goddamn, was that an arsehole thing to fecking do, what he did.

He was high enough that groveling was the only option that he really had in his mind, and he was high enough that he was okay with begging for mercy at Charlie's feet.

His left hand flicked through his dms while the right raised to his mouth to allow his lips to nurse his joint.

He'd had to have read the dms to Charlie several thousand times by now, pouring over every word that he'd drunkenly typed and trying to discern what the hell he was thinking.

Oh, yeah, and then he'd remembered: he had a two-track mind. He only ever thought about weed or sex, and that was hardly an exaggeration. It wasn't actually that hard to figure out what he was thinking.

What kind of miserable fucker threw away his friend's work for that? Charlie cared so much about him, and he...

Well, the jump from the balcony looked nice and long.

He sighed deeply, tapping out of Charlie's dms and going to...

Literature...? That group chat hadn't been messaged in...what...nearly a month or something like that...?

But it was at the top.

"What did I do this time...?" he mumbled, already bracing himself to be even more sorely disappointed.

He was already seriously considering dropping his phone from the balcony; this might push him over the edge.

Literally and figuratively.
trevor. relax.
it's me.
Fuck you
Chas had tried to...be Trevor's therapist.

For blackmail, undoubtedly.

Chas really underestimated faded Trevor's resilience...
NO. NONE of this is about me.
NOW. trevor. come sit. talk.
we're going to have a pleasant CHAT.
Sorry I can't hear yuou through your lisps.
Wait...
hahaha.
funny.
if i open up, will you?
For a dental procedure??
Hold on...
how is your relationship with your father?
Whip out the ouija and ask him yourself, gobshite.
He...
i took this photo in 7th grade.
i looked really bad, didn't i?
my mom wanted me to take it. for publicity or something.
my brother made fun of me the rest of the night for it.
i hated him at first for telling me, but he was right. it looked awful.
it's okay to give in. just a little.
You look fucking stupid. Now shut up.
Ha.

Well. Looked like jumping off of the balcony would have to wait for another time.

Jumping off of the balcony? He meant pitching his phone off of it. Yeah. That.

Maybe it was Trevor who really underestimated faded Trevor's resilience.

A quick tap back to Charlie's dms told him feck no, actually; he'd made a pretty good estimate for his dumbarsery, he just hadn't taken into account the variable that Chas was a feckin' bitch.

With a sigh, Trevor stood from his leaning position, licking his thumb and extinguishing the light on the end of his joint with a sigh, and he walked back inside.

By now, he’d dressed in a loose, blue t-shirt and a grey pair of sweats, and he rubbed the side of his head, going to sit on the couch.

He felt like there was something that he was waiting for...and, if it was important, it would come to him at some point.

For now, he’d just…

Sit.

Sit, stare at a blank wall, and...do nothing, he guessed.

What a way to spend his birthday.

Way ta go, dumbarse.

itty bitty baby skip because i liked how it cut off right there but there's still more to go •​

Knock, knock.

"Huh...?" Trevor asked, looking up from the white pages, the fountain pen in his hand pressed down and frozen on the last period, which grew larger and larger by the second, a confused expression on his face. He looked around the living room. "Is someone h..." Oh, right.

"Shite."

Right.

He had company.

Company, as in his girlfriend, who he'd spray-applied at least half of a can of Axe to make himself nice-enough smelling for.

Glancing at the pen in his hand and searching the room for a good place to put his fountain pen, the stoned teen boy folded his leather-bound journal and sat it on the couch cushion beside himself. He hooked the pen on the neck of his tee-shirt, uncrossing his legs and groaning quietly as his knees protested.

He made his way to the door, a certain sense of dread lingering in the back of his doped-up head.

Well, here went nothing; it was time to face Ashton West.

That didn't make it seem very scary.

Please hold while he thinks of a fearsome analogy or something.

(He hesitated to touch the door, sighing softly.)

He could do this. He could do this.

He was the one who asked her to come over.

He could do this.

Besides, he was high. That'd make everything easier.

He twisted open the k—...

Twisted open th—...

Oh, for feck's sake.

He stared down at the lock, and then he realized that he hadn't fecking unlocked it.

"Fuck's sake," he mumbled beneath his breath, and unclicked the lock and pulled open the door.

The sight of his girlfriend made him grin, even though, behind the grin, his head was telling him the exact opposite of what it had before:

You can't do this. You can't do this. You can't do this.

Fecking great.

But his girlfriend was here, so...ya know. There was no turning back now, unless he wanted to slam the door in her face and then spend the next three posts beating himself up over it, which was not about to happen because his rper literally could not handle the stress of having to actually write an actual breakdown scene this early with narration.

Alright, ya know what? No.

He could do this...yeah.

Maybe that was just the weed talking, but, look, either way, he was here.

And he could, er...most definitely handle...this.

Whatever the hell this was.

"Ash," he greeted, giving her a quick once-over before meeting her eyes again. "Hey."
TREVOR CALLAGHAN
º º code by ditto º º
 
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Damien Slater
"When you see my face, hope it gives you hell."

@damien.slayter has set their status to:
amazing, I'm amazing

@damien.slayter has interacted with:
Felix

@damien.slayter has mentioned:
Dani

@damien.slayter has tagged:
ditto ditto
Look, they could joke as much as they fucking wanted on Twitter about Slater having a "baby face" and looking "twelve" (which, clearly, he didn't -- he clearly looked at least twenty, so fuck them), because none of their jokes mattered anymore. Damien fucking Slater had scored at his first party at Hollywood Arts. A school that he hadn't even started attending yet and wouldn't until the following day -- a school where he had entered with a clean slate (and no, that wasn't a play on his name -- he wasn't a clean slater), and had already come out on fucking top.

Damien Slater was a god.

Damien Slater's ego had easily grown ten times bigger following sleeping with a hot as fuck bitch. Dana-- no, uhh... it was uhh... Delilah...? No, no, that was further away-- Dani! That's what it was, that was right. Dani. Yep. His ego had grown ten times bigger after he'd slept with Dani, and Slater was on top of the fucking world the following morning. On a high that no amount of drugs could ever hope to get him to.

The only thing that would make Slater higher would be if he was like... high on top of the ego boosting high.

Oh wait, he was. Ha. This was Damien Slater, after all, and he tended to always be teetering on some edge between perfect awareness and being so fucking out of it that he wouldn't remember how many fingers were on his right hand.

Speaking of drugs, Damien had woken up to the realization that he was fucking out of oxy. His stash of weed was running low. His-- look, you get the drift. Slater's little helping pills and shit were running low and without them, well, Slater was fucking boring. Like yawn, when will this fucker shut up kind of boring, alright? It was serious fucking business, okay -- he couldn't be starting his first day at a new school without the shit that he desperately needed to get by. Imagine if his first actual impression was just... just absolutely abysmal and bullshit because Slater showed up sober.

Kian had already succeeded in making a fucking fool of Slater on Twitter. He only had one fucking chance to actually try and turn everyone's fucking opinions around, and Slater wasn't about to ruin that even more by showing up when he wasn't on top of his game.

(On top of his game was clearly met when Damien was high, duh).

So, he was meeting one of his dealers today in the park. Super, super inconspicuous and shit. They would just look like a bunch of good ol' fucking... church boys or some shit hanging out in the park and trading money for bags of uhh... candy. Yeah, yeah that's what it would look like to the elderly people feeding ducks and the parents out with their bratty little disease machines and whoever the fuck else was all "uwu let's go to the park~" because honestly, Damien didn't understand the point of going if you weren't there to buy dru--

Candy. Yeah, if you weren't there to buy candy.

So now, on the absolute top of the world, Slater was with his good ol' buddy and totally not also dealer Felix... uhh... Emerald-- Emmerson, yeah, that's what his last name was. Good ol' Fefe. Good ol' Emmy. Good ol' Emmerson.

"You're going to fucking love this dude, Felix," Damien was rambling again about the dealer -- gushing a bit, even. Yeah, Slater wasn't one to gush over feelings for people (gross blech, who the fuck had time for that shit?), but to gush about some fucker that was selling him drugs? Oh hell yeah. Damien would gush like a fucking water fountain over that shit. "He's cool -- has the best stuff. Pretty sure he's overcharging me, but I don't know. I don't think it's that bad, ya know? He's a little fucking weird, though, but..." Slater shrugged, "what dealer isn't weird, ya know?"

He glanced over at Felix, offering a small chuckle. "No offense, dude."
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"Queens without Kings are historically better"
Naomi Elizondo
@MiniMimi has set their status to:
Feelings are not for me

@MiniMimi has set their outfit to:
Casual

@MiniMimi has set their location to:
Home -> bookstore

@MiniMimi has mentioned:
Alex, Nic

@MiniMini has Interacted with:
N/A
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Last night was a good night...there was technically NOTHING that had gone wrong. Why then? Why wasn't Naomi able to sleep at all. Why was her stomach in knots. She was too experienced in being crossfaded to think that was the cause epseiclaly considering how early she stopped both.

No she knew exactly what was tearing her apart...the confession. She'd played if off decent;y she felt but if she was already at that point then it wouldn't be long before she expected more. Naomi couldn't do more. Not without breaking her heart. Though that might be what happens regardless at this point.

She was supposed to hang out with ic and clear her head, but he wound up balining on her, and who on earth knew where Casey went. She could've called up Danny, but something told her this wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with him either. It was weird for once needing someone to talk to and having no one. She supposed there was Toni but she already knew what he'd say. "Be honest." Ugh not helpful.

She supposed she should figure out what she wanted? Yah sounds like a good starting point in theory, but in practice it was hard as hell.

So with no one she wanted to talk to Naomi spent the night writing. She finished up the lyrics for Charlie to sing for her at the festival and emailed them to her. She'd check the next day if she got them since it was four in the morning and lookie there still can't sleep.

Stupid love song...well alsmot love is what it was titled, but still too close for comfort. She kept writing, anything and everything that came to mind and hoped by the end of it she could figure out all the pieces and figure out what she wanted to do. Did she get that sweet relief? Of course not.

Ugh emotions sucked! If anything the fact she couldn't pull herself together was proof that she needed to back up. She needed to distance herself from this whole thing because there was no way this was good. How did something that in the moment felt so good be so damn wrong? Being with Alex felt like a piece of heaven on earth...but this felt like hell. Like the flames her licking at her heels threatening to engulf her.

Passion was a dangerous thing, and Naomi was a passionate person as much as she hated it. As much as she smoked to numb the feeling, to numb herself from feeling everything her heart and mind were constantly on 100. Weed brought her down a few notches. Normal Naomi would've hunted down Chas and broken his hands...Naomi on weed was rational enough to keep her rambling to twitter since he'd already left the party.
See improvement!

The clock ticked away and hours passed, and nothing was accomplished, and suddenly she decided being in her room was not doing her any good. She needed to get out and about. Maybe some fresh air and people watching would get her mind off the dazzling brunette running through her mind.

There was a bookstore she'd been meaning to check out. Maybe she could find some new inspiration?

She preferred to write from the inspiration of external influences then her own life or heart because it was easier to keep things at a distance. Plus then people ask questions and she would rather talk about a story she read, or an imaginary conversation she came up with after watching people interact at a dinner then her own trauma. The world didn't have the right to her like that, and she wasn't sure if they ever would. Her family was such a private and personal matter. Even Toni wrote fiction for that very reason.

Naomi sighed deciding that this would be her best bet at least for now. Something to keep her from texting Alex. Something to keep her busy till she came up with a game plan. She showered, got dressed, ate a quick breakfast then started walking to the bookstore. She took the via bus for a good chunk of the time with her headphones on. She wasn't trying to block out the world. In fact the opposite, she was trying to drown out her own thoughts so she could focus on the world around her.

Once she got there a small smile curled on her lips as she walked in the door hearing the routine chime. She took a deep breath. Now this was bliss.
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[
i sold some tickets to come see my downfall
it sold out in minutes, i saw friends in the front row

M O O D : catchin' up, not catchin' charges. wait, drug paraphernalia?? where?? no, officer, it isn't anything like it looks like...

O U T F I T : idk, something casual; i'm writing this at 1:45 in the morning and don't have the energy to look for something

L O C A T I O N : a (insert sparkles emoji) park (insert sparkles emoji)

M E N T I O N S : ryder, javi (not by name)

I N T E R A C T I O N S : slater

T A G S : Winona Winona

“Hey, LA, did ya miss me?” Felix’d asked as he flashed the pap’s cameras a charmin' smile. “‘Cuz I sure as the sky’s blue missed y’all.”

How did that song go? Hopped off the plane at LAX with my dream and a cardigan or somethin' like that? You know, putting my hands up, they’re playing my song, and the butterflies by away or somethin’?

Well, Felix’d hopped off the plane at LAX with his dream and his drugs again, but you know— to each their own, right? And it wasn’t like the drugs were for his own use or nothin’, so that made it better.

Regardless of the technicalities, he’d hopped off that plane at LAX, his hands were up (‘cuz of the metal detectors), and they were playin’ his song (ya know, Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”, transposed to the key of c minor). The only thing that he was missin' were the butterflies, but, ya know, he had ‘em in his stomach, and he wished that they would fly away, so was that close enough?

When he’d first arrived back at the mansion, he threw open the door and stared for a solid minute at the familiar sight. Had it really only been six months since Felix’d seen LA? It felt like so, so much longer. Maybe it was the fact that the blood thumping through his veins at the speed of way to fast slowed down a bit when he stepped in the door, but he felt some kind of weird relief when he got inside.

Yeah, it was really weird— it wasn’t like this place was really his home or anythin' like that.

Anyway, for some reason, it was kinda hard for Felix to get settled back in. Ya know, a big part of it was probably that Felix had lost his security pen back where he’d been filmin'. (Hey, okay, look, listen: yes, Felix had a pen for security, and, yes, it was a Sunshine Care-Bear pen, but, no, Landon, it wasn’t really all that funny…even if it kinda was.) His brother kinda helped him look for it, thinkin' it was a normal pen, but, ya know, they couldn't find it or anythin', which was a major, major bummer.

But another part of it was just the general fact that…well, it was weird coming back to so many new faces—

Though, thankfully, a couple of the new faces weren’t really all that new, and, so, to help himself settle back in, Felix decided to go ahead and head on out with Damien Slater, his old friend.

(Yeah, sure, he coulda tacked on “son of my stepmom’s coworker” and “customer” on the end of that and still had it be true, but, eh, too many details made everything hectic. Plus, it’d been a while since Felix had seen Damien, and it’d been even longer since he’d had an outin' with him, so, yeah, he was just gonna leave it at “old friend” and call it quits.)

Well…he was kinda excited, you know, to catch up with his friend (and scope out his new competition, ‘cuz apparently he had that now), but now, it was gettin’ a little bit weird. He didn’t wanna be third-wheelin’ on a date, and, what with how Damien was talkin’ about this fella they were comin’ to meet, it seemed like that mighta been the way that things were headed.

“Oh, yeah?” he said, smilin' as he walked down the sidewalk. “He sounds pretty cool, from what I’m hearin’.” He looked up at Slater, smilin' at him. “And no offense taken; I’ll take it. I’m oddly-strung,” he said easily.

He looked up and out over the park. “It’s a nice day out here. Perfect weather for a kite or somethin’.” Sure, he was talkin’ about the weather, but it was also just somethin’ that he did to break the ice. Plus, it was really nice out here. “Though, come to think of it, the wind might carry you away. It’s super blowy out here.” He couldn’t think of the word windy at the moment, so he picked the first one off the top of his head. “It’s kinda chilly, but I think it’d be nice for a picnic or somethin’, too. Ya know, maybe the ants would get blown away by the wind or somethin’,” he laughed lightly. “And then it’d turn out even better than a normal day.” He concluded his assessment with a nod.

He looked back over to Damien. “This odd guy bringin' ya somethin’ impressive?” he asked, switchin' the subject back to drugs as if it was nothin'. “If he’s overchargin' and you’re still comin’ back, I mean, it’s gotta be somethin’ good, so maybe that ain’t the right thing to be askin’, huh?” He chuckled. “Can I maybe catch his name or somethin’? Or, ya know, can I get whatever you call him? That way, I can at least know if I know him.” He coulda been someone in Felix’s network; he never really knew. “And is he new new? Fresh to Hollywood Arts? Or just new to the biz?” He was askin’ all these questions as if Damien would know, and he smiled, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “And does my next question bring me to usin' up all twenty-one of my questions, or have you already lost count?”
felix rian emmerson
º º code by ditto º º
 

Ava Sanders
"Life is for keeping score."

@queenofhell has set their status to:
gamer mode activated

@queenofhell has interacted with:
Alex

@queenofhell has mentioned:
Naomi, Jules

@queenofhell has tagged:
Soap Soap
When Ava groggily woke up the next morning with Jules' head resting on her shoulder, the first thing she'd seen was the dumb Mean Girls thing still up on the television. At first, Ava hadn't wanted to move -- sue her, but she had liked the peacefulness of the morning with Jules resting against her.

And then she'd glanced over at her best friend, and her eyes had fallen on that stupid necklace given to her by fucking Dickian, and Ava's heart -- carefully duct taped back together -- had shattered once more.

Fucking asshole.

JJ hadn't stuck around long -- she'd bid her farewell and then she was gone, leaving for some stupid dance practice for the Arts Festival or whatever.

That just reminded Ava that she needed to work on her project for the thing but she was lazy and she was still bouncing between a few different ideas. Dealing with it would be for... future Ava -- current Ava could just uhh... you know, do what she normally did on a Saturday morning.

Video games.

And that's where she was currently seated in front of the television in her room that was propped up on her desk -- yeah, great use of her desk. Her headset was on, she was kicked back in her chair, her feet crossed and resting on the desk next to the television while she played.

Nothing ebbed the feeling of heartbreak quite like shooting up assholes on video games.

She aimed at a guy and pulled the trigger -- a thrill went through her as the kill popped up on her screen, continuing her streak. Nothing was fucking better than that--

"What the fuck, man?!" some guy yelled through his mic, and Ava let out a snort of laughter. Ah, she was mistaken. Sure, killing people on the game was fun, but there was one thing that was better than that.

Stealing someone's kill and listening to them rampage.

Yeah, what a surprise, Ava was a bit of a troll when it came to videogames.

“Bullshit! You can’t— what the fuck?!” the guy continued.

Ava couldn't help herself -- she started laughing into the mic and it was hard to keep playing through the tears of laughter that started filling her eyes. God, pissed off people were her favorites. "I fucking can and I just did," she commented into the mic.

“What the fuck, man?!” the angry dude continued. "That was my fucking kill! And you shot me?! What the fuck?! We're on the same team, bro!"

“Calm dow—“ Some idiot tried to negate the situation, but was cut off by Angry Dude.

“No! Shut up! I'm yelling at her right now!" he hissed. "Seriously, what's your fucking problem?! That wasn't even your fucking job, bro! What the fucking— gah?! What?!"

This was hilarious. Ava let out another snort of laughter. She kept going, shooting someone else and getting another kill while the guy raged in her ear.

"Dude," Ava started as she continued the match. "You weren't doing shit so I had to do it for you. Just get fucking better, but like... later. I think you need a nap or some shit, kiddo. Go throw your tantrum somewhere else." She was grinning as she spoke, though, waiting for the guy to rage some more.

Ava's main hobby was antagonizing people.

"Hey, fuck you!" he growled. "I was doing a great fucking job! I had all of my shit done, and here you come, just fucking double-killing me and my target?! What the actual— that's fucking cheating! You're a fucking cheater!"

Ava listened, that grin not leaving her face as she continued playing the match -- and totally fucking winning and nailing it -- while dead guy continued to rage.

“Get a fucking inhaler, man!” he yelled at one of the other players, then went back to his angry rampage against her. "You fucking owe me! You took my health packs and all of that shit at the start, too— and I called you out on that bullshit, and now you fucking killed me?! Get real, man! It's a fucking team game— that's not how you play!"

"Looter! Fuck you!" he continued. "Fuck you, and your mom!"

“Woah, and my mom?” a different dude said.

"Fuck!" he yelled. “Not your mom, her mom!”

She laughed. "Whoa, dude, calm down." Did Ava say that simply because she knew it would piss him off more? Hell fucking yeah she did. "I'm not fucking cheating. Not my fault you're just a sore loser. Why don't you go cry to your mommy or some shit?"

And then out of nowhere, some fucker came up behind her and shot her and Ava wasn't able to turn around shoot the fucker in time and she watched in horror as, after all of her trash talking, she ended up fucking dying with that asshole still on the mic.

Her jaw dropped open as she glared at the screen.

"What the fuck!" she yelled. "Fucking-- fuck."

"Ha! Eat karma's ass, fuckerrrr!" he said, his laughter grating on her nerves. "Fucking make out with it— suuuuck it! Oh, it's too fucking rich!"

"Fuck you, man." She snapped back into the mic.

"What, are you gonna go cry to your mommy? Are you gonna pee your pants and start bawling? Do it, do it, do it. No balls, loooter. No balls, cheaaater. No balls, no balls."

"No, I'm not a little bitch baby like you. Fuck off." She snapped. See, when Ava got so freaking mad that she was practically fuming, words pretty much escaped her until all she could mutter was a series of fucks in a huffed manner. Ava, having lost in the most embarrassing way, had hit that horrible manner of uttered fucks only.

“Oh, shit, I gotta go," he said.

"Bye. Go cry to your mommy about the cheater." She said, her voice dripping with venom as she spoke.

“I’ll go cry to your mom. I think that’s her at my door.”

Ava rolled her eyes. Fucking immature little prick. She seethed as the little bitch spoke one more "fuck you" into the headset before the ass logged off.

The round had just finished and everyone was readying their characters -- Ava included, until she heard someone moving around the apartment. Alex, obviously, and from the sounds of it, she was in search of something. Ava rolled her eyes -- see, that's what she didn't get. Why waste time cleaning and shit if you were still going to lose stuff? Like, Ava's room may have been a hazard to human health, but at least she knew where most everything was.

"I gotta go." She said and, without waiting for the goodbyes of her companions, clicked off the headset and turned off the game. Ava tossed her controller onto her bed and stood up from the desk before heading out into the living room.

"Hey," Ava said to Alex as she pulled the door to her bedroom closed. She looked at her roommate, one eyebrow cocked up in question as she hurriedly looked everywhere for... something. "What'd you lose? Your brain or some shit? What're you in such a hurry for?" Ava asked, although she had an inkling of what it might have been.

Such as... a small little part of Ava was worried that Alex was off to go hangout with Naomi. Now, Ava had never had any ill feelings towards the other girl before -- she was one of the cooler chicks in the lit department. Err, cooler people in the lit department in general (although that wasn't hard when the lit department seemed to be made up of the biggest assholes and pricks that Hollywood Arts had to offer). But after her chance meeting and strange befriending of Saint over cults, Ava was a little more uhh... offput, to say the least.

Look, Ava didn't want Alex getting hurt. Yeah, yeah, surprise, surprise, Ava actually cared about someone -- fucking shove it, alright?
º º code by ditto º º
 

Zephyr Evermore
"Cheer up! 'Cause nothing really matters."

@zeph.evermore has set their status to:
hypeee

@zeph.evermore has interacted with:
Lin

@zeph.evermore has mentioned:
Stella

@zeph.evermore has tagged:
ditto ditto
He had a girlfriend.

Zeph was beyond giddy. He was elated. It was like walking on clouds or something -- like that's how ecstatic he felt, because he had a girlfriend. And not just any girlfriend, but he had Stella Bailey as his girlfriend. And Stella was... she was just... she was pretty and she was opinionated and she was strong and she was nice and she was just... well, he already trusted her with his life, so being able to go from calling her his best friend to his girlfriend was just like... like amazing.

Words couldn't describe the elated feeling he felt.

Zeph was dating his best friend, which meant that he knew they worked together well. Of course they did! They worked great as best friends, and he was pretty sure that dating wasn't that different from being best friends with someone. The only real difference was, what? Now you could kiss them and hold their hand in public and stuff?

Anyway, so Zeph, still on this elated high of happiness, had left Stella's place early in the morning. Unfortunately, as much as he'd love to spend the whole day with his new girlfriend, he had already made prior arrangements to go over to Lin's house. And, well, Zeph wasn't about to show up to his cool new friend's house while he was still dressed as a perpetual ten-year-old Pokemon trainer.

So he'd headed home, took a quick shower, and changed into some clean clothes -- nothing fancy, just jeans, t-shirt, and a hoodie. He was no fashionista -- Zeph was more of a whatever kind of looks okay together type of fella.

And with that, and because his roleplayer doesn't want to write more narration, Zeph was on his way to his new bff's house. His brosband. His... uhh... Lin. Yeah. That guy.

Zeph was still a bit tired from the previous night -- trying to keep up with Lin had been, well, exhausting to say the least. He was a little worried about being able to keep up with his new best friend but hey, he'd do his best. It would just be for... what... a couple hours? And after they started going, Zeph probably wouldn't even think about his own tiredness until they stopped.

He knocked on the door to Lin's condo and took a step back, hands sliding into the pocket of his hoodie while he waited, bouncing up and down a bit on the balls of his feet. He was nervous -- what if, without the cover of a party and the night and other people, Lin thought Zeph was just super boring and didn't want to hangout with him again?

The nerves kind of died away when the door was thrown open. A wide grin spread across Zeph's face. He returned the cool bro hug (because, you know, Zeph was cool) and stepped into the house after Lin. He closed the door after himself and for a moment, he let his gaze wander around, marveling at the entire place that all belonged to Lin.

Well, Zeph didn't think he had roommates, anyway.

Meanwhile... Zeph was living in a cramped dorm on a bed that had his legs hanging off the end.

He was pulled from his marveling when Lin's voice called out to him, asking if he waned an apple. Zeph opened his mouth to say no thank you, but a grumbling deep in his stomach reminded him that he'd been so worked up with a mixture of excitement about hanging with Lin and residue happiness from being with Stella that he'd forgotten to eat.

Woops.

"Yeah, man, apple sounds great." He called back. Lin came back and tossed him an apple and Zeph trailed after him into the living room. He did as instructed, heading over to the couch and tossing the controller onto the table before flopping onto the sofa. Zeph sank down into it, stretching his legs out in front of him and taking a bite of the apple while he listened to the itinerary.

“So the plans for today: we hang, we chill, and then we go to the store, we hang, we chill, then we come home and we sword-fight,” he said, pausing only when Mitsubishi went over to him. “And, of course, I got a lotta snacks in my pantry, and if we need more, we can just go and steal some more.” He grinned, laughing. “Sound like a plan, Zephy Man?”

Lin minus the sugar high was a lot easier to follow and a lot easier to understand, at least. Zeph chuckled as he listened -- just like Lin to make jokes about stealing.

"Sounds like a plan." He said, cracking a grin. "Question, though... sword-fight. Actual swords or fake swords...?"

See before today, Zeph would've thought that Lin was absolutely kidding about the whole sword-fight thing because how immature, right? Like who actually fought with swords when they were in high school. Pfft, no one because it was just so lame, clearly. But after the Adventures of Zephlin the night before, well...

Zeph had learned that Lin wasn't kidding about that.

"You got like those light sabers or whatever? The cool ones that light up and make the sound effects -- the zrrrt or whatever it is?" Zeph asked and for a moment, the typically mature sophomore's eyes lit up in excitement.
º º code by ditto º º
 

Ashton West
"I heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in the world."

@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
absolutely... great

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Trevor

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
all those Twitter interactions

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ditto ditto
When Ash finally started to stir in the morning, the first thing she did was immediately grab her comforter and pull it over her head to try and allow herself to succumb back into the sweet embrace of sleep. But her head was throbbing, her stomach hurt, and after several minutes of laying there and trying to will herself back into sleep, she gave up and pulled the covers back down from her face.

For a moment, she laid in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. To say that her previous night had been rough would've been an understatement -- the previous night had been absolute hell, and Ash really didn't even want to check her phone to see who else had decided to text her various forms of fuck you while she had tried to sleep.

Well, it hadn't been total hell. There had been alright bits sprinkled in amongst the absolute hell that had made her night a little less... rough. And by that, she mostly meant Lucky and Eli. Like, the time that she'd spent with Lucky before Trevor had shown up had been nice, and hanging with him on the balcony had been great. Like, they hardly knew each other, but something about being around Lucky was easy. Conversation flowed easily and she didn't find herself overthinking everything. So, the time that she'd spent with him on the balcony, laughing as they watched their drunken peers stumble their way across the yard from their safe perch on the balcony had been the highlight of her night.

That and the before -- when she'd been with Eli and Gen, taking their starter shots and dancing. Her lips twitched into a slight smile at the memory, and for a moment, she found herself wishing she could go back and have just stayed right there instead of heading off from the safety of Eli's side.

The hint of the smile fell away when the rest of the night -- the, you know, mistake after mistake after mistake part of the night came catapulting back.

Well, like, there had been the whole comforting Gen thing, right? And it wasn't like that had been bad -- Ash had bid Lucky farewell when she texted Gen and realized just how off her sister was. Stumbling through the house had kind of made her sick and, after a quick trip to the bathroom where the majority of the alcohol she'd ingested over the course of the night had been emptied into the toilet, she'd made her way to the kitchen for snacks and water for Gen. It was hard to comfort someone when you were, like, fucking drunk, though, so she'd been more than glad to hand Gen over to Evie when the other girl showed up.

So, Ash had stumbled her way to her bedroom where she'd collapsed onto her mattress. Her head was throbbing, the drunkenness was starting to wear off, and then... she got a text. From Callum. Naturally she had answered and several messages back and forth later, Callum ended the conversation with a fuck you. Not that she was like... mad about it or anything -- like she was hurt, but she knew that she deserved any anger or snarky remarks that he tossed at her. She had been a bad friend.

And then there had been the whole, you know, Dorian and JJ thing which like, Ash really shouldn't have gotten on Twitter. Anyway, long story short, JJ totally thought Ash was jealous of her relationship with Dorian (which she clearly wasn't because why would she be? Been there, done that -- Dorian wasn't that great), but then the second (third?) fuck you of the night came from Dorian.

Seriously, what was it with these guys messaging her first and then saying "fuck you, don't talk to me"? Like, she didn't want to talk to them. That's why she hadn't messaged first. Duh.

Anyway, Dorian and JJ dating hadn't bothered her -- like, Dorian was a good guy, even if he was a total dick to her. He'd been good to her in their relationship, at least in the early stages, before everything had started to turn sour. She knew he'd be good to JJ, but it was just...

Like, well, Ash wouldn't want to date someone that had slept with or dated one of her best friends (what a surprise -- the girl did have standards, albeit extremely low standards). And sure, JJ didn't know and what she didn't know couldn't hurt her and all that, but... look, Ash felt guilty that JJ didn't know. And like, what if she somehow found out later on? When she got super attached to Dorian or something and then it just hurt even more? It was like... it felt like something that should be told now, but whatever.

Ash wasn't going to be the one to do it.

Of course, all of these events had snowballed and made Ash freaking tense. So when Jan had started messaging her, well, Ash had been partially distracted as it was -- she'd been... dealing with Trevor at the time, right....? Look, all of the bad events had kind of merged and she couldn't remember the exact timeline. Anyway, long story short, as if ruining her own night and, like, at least half a dozen other people's nights hadn't been bad enough, Ash had also managed to ruin Jan and Eli's night and whatever the heck they had going on by being a bitch. Ash had overreacted, probably took things totally out of context, and now...

God, fucking... she wanted to scream into a pillow right now just thinking about it.

And if that hadn't been the worst of it, the last fuck you of the night had been from Javi when, again, she was messaged first. Granted, his fuck you was at least in a nice way so she couldn't be pissed about that -- anyway, so then she'd ended up having to like, babysit him until he fell asleep on the couch, too, and it was just... seriously.

When did Ashton West, certified party girl, become Ashton West, certified babysitter of drunks?

Her stomach hurt. Her head hurt.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, and then exhaled slowly through her mouth. Finally, she pushed herself up on her elbows and leaned over to grab her phone from its resting place on her nightstand. Ash flopped back into her pillows once the phone was in her hand and she turned it on, half-expecting there to be some more hateful messages, but she was pleasantly surprised to find nothing.

Ash squinted at the screen, the brightness of her phone screen making the throbbing in her head all the more apparent. Her fingers hovered over it while she considered what to do -- and exactly why she had picked up the phone in the first place.

Trevor.

That's why.

The previous night, he'd oh so romantically asked her on a date today at his apartment. Just the two of them. At the time he'd asked, Ash had actually been ecstatic. Like, nothing was sweeter than your boyfriend wanting to go on a date with you and, given her history, she didn't exactly have a lot of experience with boyfriends that wanted to take her on dates. So like, just the offer was sweet, alright?

Like and the thing was, Trevor really, really should've just stopped there. Just right there and everything would've been fine and she could've gone over to the apartment, they could've had their date, and everything would've been good and great and lovely and just, like, perfect.

Except he didn't -- except that he apparently pissed off Charlie and asked Josie for help and it was just... such... a mess. From his panicked messages and the bits of the conversation with Charlie that he'd messaged her, Ash had been able to pretty much piece it together. Trevor had told Charlie he wanted the apartment to himself, so he'd cancelled the whole party she'd planned for him, and all... all because, as he'd so kindly told Ash, not because he wanted to have a date with her, but because... he wanted to have sex.

Romantic. Yeah.

She... wasn't hurt at all. That hadn't ruined the ecstatic feeling she'd had at all.

And that coupled with her crying to Eli about the fight and what Trevor had said to her kind of just... none of last night had been good. Eli's messages still rattled in her brain, their implications leaving her with doubts about this whole dating Trevor thing -- because not long after Eli had basically told Ash to dump Trevor and had basically implied that Trevor would probably cheat on her, Gus had taken to Twitter with drunk ramblings about how Trevor and Josie were going to fuck.

And, naturally following her rather tumultuous previous relationship with Nico which had ended because of him cheating, well... look, it was a constant fear of hers, alright? That she'd be too boring, or not enough, or this or that for whoever she was dating next -- and last night had kind of just cemented that fear inside of her. Like, what if Gus was right and Trevor had moved on that fast because she refused to sleep with him when he was that far gone?

Her stomach hurt.

Part of her didn't want to text Trevor and see if he still wanted to see her, because Ash wasn't sure if she wanted to see him. That was mean, though -- and they hadn't even been together long enough for her to already be thinking that. Like... she should still be in that whole lovey dovey honeymoon phase where she wanted to be with him every second of every day. Or, like, you know, pretty close to that.

Plus... it was his birthday.

Before she lost her courage again, she typed out a message and sent it to him.

She dropped her phone to the bed beside her and finally sat up in bed. Discarded on the floor was the stupid costume from last night that she'd had a horrible time trying to get out of, and her lip curled up in disgust. Yeah, there was no way that she was ever wearing that again. Or dressing up for Halloween again if she could help it. Last night's experience had been horrible enough for her to never want a repeat.

Her phone buzzed and she picked it back up, checking to see the notification. Just a text from Trevor telling her yeah. Great.

Dragging herself out of her bed, Ash figured it was time for her to finally get ready for the day and stop hiding out in her room.

Yay...

------------------​

A few hours later, Ash had returned to being a functioning teenager. She'd taken a shower, eaten half a granola bar (her stomach had kind of rejected the idea of food, so the rest of it had ended up in the trash can), and now she was like... mostly ready to go over to Trevor's.

It was just the gift thing. Like, Gen had told her to grab some poem book from her dad's study, which Ash had grabbed the moment Gen had suggested it. It was supposedly some, like, rare poem book by William Wordsworth, whoever the hell that was. To Ash, it just looked like a dusty old book with really boring things inside that made her kind of fall asleep -- like, she'd tried reading a few of them.

But hopefully to Trevor, it would be actually a decent present. Upon realizing it was his birthday, she had been... completely stumped on what to get him. It had kind of smacked her straight in the face just how little she really knew about him.

He was from Ireland. He fucked a lot of girls. He liked weed. He was in the lit department.

That was about as far as her knowledge of him went.

Oh, and his first name was apparently Sean and today was his birthday.

And... yep, that was about it.

(Legit until today, she really hadn't been one hundred percent sure how old he was -- like, she knew he was a junior, but was he seventeen or sixteen or like fifteen about to turn sixteen -- she'd legit had no idea).

But hey, last night had given her some better ideas on who Trevor was as a person. For example, when he got super crossfaded, he'd start threatening to cry. And just blatantly ask for sex. And alcohol. And if denied both, he'd threaten to bang his head into a wall.

Yeah, he was a real winner.

Tucking the book under her arm, Ash was off.

Unfortunately, his apartment was far enough away that Ash had to take a stupid Uber. Like, she had her license. Her parents had offered to buy her a car -- she had every means to have her own transportation around LA, but the whole driving thing kind of made her sick. Guess that kind of happened after a bad car accident or whatever and like, she should've been over that enough by now to drive herself, but she wasn't, so instead, she settled for the Uber. Where she sat in the back seat, her foot bouncing, her finger running up and down the binding of the book. She concentrated on her breathing -- in, and out, until the Uber said they were there and she could lift up her head and hey, she'd lived.

Ash thanked the driver and climbed out. She hesitated outside of the apartment building at first -- again, seeing Trevor... seemed... like, look, she was like...

Conflicted.

But it was his birthday, the Uber was gone, she was here.

She'd promised she'd be there, so Ash painted a smile on her face. At some point, she remembered hearing that like if you smiled, it was supposed to eventually make you happy. Maybe it released whatever that happy hormone was -- dopamine, was it? Yeah. Maybe that's what it did.

Ash didn't feel much happier, though, when she got to the door. She sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and then tapped her knuckles against the door. Ash stepped back, her teeth biting into her bottom lip, the book clutched to her chest while she waited.

Eventually, the door opened and this time, an unforced smile broke out on her face at the sight of her boyfriend. Even if she was like, kind of mad at him or whatever, it was like... it was nothing. It was her overreacting, so there was no point in letting that spoil his birthday.

Plus, like, she was genuinely happy to see him now that she was here.

"Hey, sorry I took so long," she greeted and stepped through the open door, the smile still not leaving her face. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say or what to do, when she remembered the book clutched in her arms. Quickly, she held it out to him.

"Happy birthday," she said, her hands dropping back to her sides when he took the book. "I'm sorry it's not, like, wrapped but I didn't know where the wrapping paper was -- and like, I considered stopping at the store, but I didn't want to make you wait longer. Anyway, it's like a... I don't know, poem book or something that Gen said I could give you. Her dad didn't, umm... want it anymore, and I didn't like... really know what else to get you." She explained, and her hands started to fiddle with the bottom of her jacket.

Her eyes studied his face, waiting for some hint of a reaction. "Do you like... like it? Sorry, if you don't, I can totally get you something else."
º º code by ditto º º
 
"Focus on me, I'm about to blow them all away"
Stella Bailey
@Steller.Bae has set their status to:
Living on cloud 9

@Steller.Bae has set their outfit to:
Casual cute

@Steller.Bae has set their location to:
Home -> Cafe

@Steller.Bae has mentioned:
Zeph, Evie

@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Bobby ( Daniel Reaving Daniel Reaving )
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Who knew a morning after could feel so peaceful? Ok not completely peaceful due to her raging hang-over from her excessive drinking the night before. Luckily she didn't drink to the point of blacking out because as much of a rollercoaster as last night was Stella wanted to remember all of it. Every second good and bad she wanted to savor because it brought her to the point she was at now.

Stella was definitely internally uncharacteristically on cloud nine. On the outside she was calm and composed of course. The last thing she needed was to freak Zeph out, with her fifteen year old giddiness. That wasn't her thing, and she wasn't about to give that image up.

Not that she'd need to stay that way for long considering Zeph had plans for the day. While a part of her wanted to spend the day with him despite that, she knew she shouldn't flake on plans she made, and Zeph deserved as much bro time as he wanted with his new friend. Since he didn't stay long (despite spending the night) their first "date" was short lived. She unfortunately was passed out not even midway into the movie. She really had tried, but all the liquor in her tiny body caught up to her as the addinaline of the rush and anxiety she'd been running on all night faded.

By the time she actually got up and dressed she honestly couldn't care less about the bad parts of the night. Zeph was right. Evie was going to think what she wanted and that had nothing to do with her. She'd called her agent and let her know about the photo's but then decided to go ahead and nip this thing in the bud right now herself. Her agent didn't like that idea, but she simply hung up and did what she wanted. They had their chance.

She changed her social media status to taken and uploaded a slightly older picture of her and Zeph that was on her phone already.

It wasn't some big long sappy thing, but it'd put any rumors to bed about her and Kordei since apparently her management couldn't handle it. Plus she wasn't ashamed of being with Zeph, and it's not like anyone at school didn't already suspect that it'd happen. While she usually ignored such ramblings, she wasn't deaf to it. She'd just never been interested in potentially ruining a good thing that they had. Even if this turns out to be better.

That's not to say she still wasn't nervous this wouldn't go the way they wanted, but she was hopeful. He made her feel hopeful and she figured that's good enough for now.

Now her focus however needed to be on her hang-out with Bobby. Was there a small twisted feeling in the pit of her stomach about hanging out with her Ex the morning after becoming official with her now boyfriend? Especially out in public when he was a notable musician who just got back from tour? Yes, of course. Public image mattered a lot to her, but she convinced herself that's even more of a reason she did good by posting the instagram picture of her and Zeph. It could squash any Kordei rumors, and keep any rumors springing up about her and Bobby too.

Plus they were just friends who were catching up now. The being ex's thing shouldn't be a factor since they dated back in middle school. Does that even count in the real world? In hear heart maybe? But not anywhere else. She was twelve after all so of course it's a big deal to her, but no one else would care.

They were classmates, if anything they'd think it was some collaboration. In fact that wasn't a bad idea to be seen in a music video. Bobby's music videos were pretty classy in their representation of women after all.

Ugh wait stop that Stella! This isn't a business meeting, this is a hang out. You are supposed to be having FUN today. You've already let your career be a barrier between the two of you for too long. You need to kick that habit.

She picked out her outfit, took some Tylenol, and sent him a quick text saying she was on her way to the cafe along with it's address. Was that a bit dominating? A bit? It's not like she ever put in the option for him to turn her down, but she's always been like this, so she hoped he remembered and still didn't mind.
With that settled in her head she called up an Uber to take her to their meeting place. Since she was always on Uber it didn't take long for a car to be in the area. She got in and scrolled through social media and twitter aimlessly catching up on any other drama from the night before. While she was too drunk to be attentive to much of it she did now see a lot more happened then she was aware of.

She chose to not touch on any of it though because none of that was her business. She arrived at the small little cafe and went ahead to the hostess to get them a table. She requested an outside table so Bobby could see her easily once he arrived, and because it was a beautiful day out.

She didn't know what all she wanted to do with today, but there were plenty of little shops for them to occupy their time with if need be. The waitress came up to her asking for her order, "A coffee with lots of cream and sugar please." She hummed trying not to sound as dead tired as she was and praying those painkillers would kick in any minute now as she waited.
º º code by ditto º º
 
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