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

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Kian Phelan
@lockandkian has set their status to:
yup

@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
I broke my jacket

@lockandkian has set their location to:
dressing rooms backstage

@lockandkian has mentioned:
n/a

@lockandkian has interacted with:
Javi & Lucky

@lockandkian has tagged:
hery hery gh0stwriter gh0stwriter
The stage was a reprieve from the drama and Kian welcomed it with open arms.

Despite the blinding stage lights and the whistles and hollers of the crowd deafening his ears and the thump of music from the speakers against his chest, Kian could still cut through the tension with a knife. As each second passed, Kian became more and more convinced that Javi and Lucky were either going to slaughter each other or fall into some weird homoerotic hate makeout.

Was hate making-out a thing? People could hate fuck but hate making-out, was that possible? Would it be, like, hate foreplay? Or more like mildly annoyed foreplay, the predecessor to the better known hate fuck? You know, mildly annoyed f-

Oh right.

The music.

Honestly, despite the fact that the tangible tension was lingering over the stage like a cheap fog machine’s mist at a rave, JBN’s set went on without a hitch. The anger seemed to have no effect on Lucky’s singing or Javi’s shredding of his bass. Kian was fine as always, right at home with his guitar and the lyrics transcribed from a battered up dollar store notebook into musical finesse. He loved every second of it.

But the show eventually came to an end and his shelter kicked him out into the snow and promptly locked the doors. As Kian made his way off stage, forehead damp with sweat clinging to strands of messy brown hair, he braced for the inevitable crash that came after such a beautiful high.

“Guys…we fucking killed it out there. Those rifts were amazing and…” Lucky’s hand lifted towards Javi, but an angry blow never came. Instead, a few comforting pats. “That thing you did to close out Bang was awesome. We did it guys. This is just the beginning.”

“That… was fun… Obviously we’re the fucking best,” Kian hadn’t noticed Lucky’s arm around Javi’s shoulders until it was being shoved off.“The crowd lost their fucking shit. Imagine what would have happened if I really had ripped my shirt off.” Kian opened his mouth to speak but promptly shut it, instead flipping his guitar over his shoulder by the strap and taking a sip of water from his bottle. “You were fucking perfect, Kian,”

“Oh, um, thanks!” Kian managed after rather awkwardly gulping down the water. “We really did an awesome job. I got some good ideas for mixing our stuff too, based on what we did out there and how the crowd reacted. It’s gonna be killer.”

“Please tell me someone has some way of celebrating?” Lucky continued, Kian’s eyes lighting up slightly. Celebrating, now that was Kian’s middle name.

He couldn’t help the sigh of relief that fell from his lips as things seemed to cool down in the very brief silence. Maybe they had decided to put their differences aside for just one night, long enough to remember that they were friends and to just enjoy their time toge-

“Hope Jojo was somewhere in that crowd, ‘Sober Up’ was for her. Promised her I’d hang if we both ended up alone tonight.”

Whoop, there it is.

Javi laughed and Kian, well he wanted to crawl within himself and die. Wishful thinking was stupid, especially when it came to these two. Just like that, the momentary bliss and comfort of his friendships were gone.

“You know, for once I think I’ll pass on celebrating with something. I think I’ve had enough things inside my body for the day.” Javi’s eyes landed on Kian. “Unless you’re supplying.”

Kian’s wallet groaned in protest. Of course he had stuff, but it was his supply for the week and between rent and his stupid car needing stupid fucking gas, he couldn’t afford to buy more. But Lucky wanted to celebrate. And Javi wanted to celebrate. And, let’s be real, Kian’s mild high from his earlier line wasn’t enough to get him through the evening. It was just enough to keep the withdrawals away but Lucky was right. This was cause for celebration and one time wouldn’t hurt him. Just one night.

“Okay, fine. Come, follow me,” Kian caved, placing his guitar down on the stand by the amp.

He couldn’t just be handing shit out in the public eye, that was a great way to ruin a career. Instead, Kian pushed his way into the dressing room and locked the door firmly shut behind Lucky and Javi. Strolling over to his guitar case, Kian flipped open the lid and pulled back a piece of black felt covering a small black bag. Kian unzipped it and turned it upside down, the contents emptying out onto the vanity desk: two joints, a baggy of fine white powder, a few multicoloured pills, some other shit that Kian forgot what it was.

“There.” Kian said, gesturing to the table. “Pick your party poison.”

God, he just wanted this to be over. Please let it be over soon.

º º code by ditto º º
 






Jace West


In what felt like just a single heartbeat, a single moment in time, Jace went from standing awkwardly next to his ex-girlfriend to suddenly having her hands on his cheeks and her familiar lips pressing against his.

And he hated it.

He hated the feeling of her lips against his. He hated her hands touching his skin, holding him. He hated the sound of the paparazzi as they captured photos and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the flashes, and that just freaked him out all the fuck more, because oh god oh heck oh hell oh no no no no.

Bile rose in the back of his throat, and then Jace jerked his head back, out of her reach, and his hands came up to push against her arms, shoving her away from him. He was sure the cameras would catch that, too, but right now, he didn't care.

There was a look of pure disgust, of pure hatred on his face as his nose wrinkled up. He brought his sleeve up to his mouth, trying to wipe away the taste of her on his lips because gross gross gross and oh fuck fuck fuck.

This fucking--

She--

Fuck her.

Usually, Jace was the type of guy who kept his feelings to himself. He would walk away, go scream somewhere else, but there was something about Stassi thinking that she had the fucking right to try and kiss him that had his blood boiling, that made his hands curl up into fists, and he wanted to go off.

A glance towards the cameras, towards the paparazzi, told him that he needed to try and keep his cool to some extent.

His blue gaze, brimmed to the edge with ice and hate, narrowed back in on the whore in front of him.

He took a step towards her, and in a low voice so that no one but Stassi in front of him would pick up on it, Jace started to speak.

"Fuck you," Jace hissed through gritted teeth. ."Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. I-I-I... I brought you because I... I felt sorry for you, but y-you..." he shook his head, taking a small step back. "You... you suck. Don... don't f-fucking talk t-to me ever... ever again."

With one last glance in the direction of the paparazzi, and then a pointed glare in Stassi's direction, Jace stomped away. As he put more distance between himself and the event that had just happened, he felt his legs growing weak. His arms growing shaky. He headed out of the ballroom, shoving his way past a few people.

His breath was catching in his throat.

It was his imagination, he knew it was, but he swore that he could still feel her lips on his, and it felt like acid, like his skin was burning, and he wanted the feeling to go away, go away, go away.

And that's how he found himself now, angrily scrubbing at his mouth with soap and water until he even ingested a little bit of the soap, which caused him to spit it out and rinse his mouth out with more water.

Eventually, he felt okay enough that Jace dried his hands and his mouth and, still a little on edge, he wandered his way back towards the ballroom -- but this time, he stuck as far away from fucking Stassi as possible, and as close to the edge as he could get.




mood
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

location
the Ball

outfit
this is the best you all are getting because finding this boy in a normal suit is impossible and you all know what suits look like





playing...
when i'm with you
by Jace West​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Stassi

tags
AkuTheWolfOkami AkuTheWolfOkami


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Mikaela Ainsley



Tori’s response to Mikaela’s little teasing was entirely predictable. Nevertheless, it was very entertaining to watch her friend launch into a completely unconvincing spiel attempting to convince Kian that she wasn’t the nervous one but Mikaela which – no offense but Kian would have to be incredibly dense or silly to be convinced by that, especially given that Tori was the one freaking out about snorting crack off a stranger’s back – which by the way she definitely wouldn’t ask her to do.

…at least... not while she was sober. She couldn’t say with complete certainty that she wouldn’t if she was off the rails high so…

Anyway the mention of the amusement park clearly delighted Kian who very generously offered season pass tickets and to join them on their little ‘illegal’ school day excursion. Now Mikaela was fairly certain that Tori being Tori, in the interest of protecting her pride, would show up as promised and accompany her to the amusement park. But it was always best to be prepared for the unexpected and there was nothing wrong with a little insurance. After that little spiel Tori went on in front of Kian about not being nervous and totally able to handle herself at the amusement park, if Kian came along then it would make it that much harder for Tori to pull a no show without looking like… well exactly what she had just proclaimed she was not. Normally she herself would be a little apprehensive about having a stranger joined but Kian did seem like fun and anything that helped keep Tori from backing out she welcomed. Truthfully the one accompanying her on this little expedition could probably have been anybody not named Clairmont or Eli or uh… she didn’t have the brain to recall all the other names but either way Tori just happened to be the poor unfortunate soul or lucky winner she had picked to accompany her – oh right, Cappie was on that list too given his budding little ‘relationship’ with Nellie which by the way, was one of the things she was most looking forward to seeing tonight at the ball, you know aside from all the usual fun ball activities (by which she meant drinking the alcohol she had very legally snuck in).

Now, where was she? Ah yes, Kian. Lovely sweet Kian who seemed happy when she paid her false compliments to his music and lit up like a puppy at the idea of an amusement park. She’d been so caught up in her thoughts that he had begun to slip off before she could tell him that he was all too welcome to join them and so she immediately turned to her friend. “He’s coming.” She declared, her hands starting to dig around her bag. No way was she going to give her the opportunity to object. Now she just needed to get her phone out, so she could message him before Tori did, of course even if Tori did manage to message Kian first and tell him no, she was confident she could persuade him to come. Hell, there were actually probably more benefits for Tori if he did come, unless Kian could get to be as off the walls crazy or crazier than her when she was high on alcohol and who knows what else.

Speaking of which, she’d have to find an opportunity later to sneak some, preferably without the cameras catching her. It wasn’t a party unless you had some liquor in your system and if she was at a party (well technically this was a ball but same difference just fancier and stuffier), she was going to party.





mood
lalalalala

location
Winter ball

outfit
Hot dress





playing...
song title here

by artist here​




mentions
Clairmont Sibs, Eli, Cappie

interactions
Kian, Tori

tags
Winona Winona ditto ditto


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Mick Murphy



Mick could tell that she was taking time to process what was happening and he would be patient as she filtered through her thoughts to try and figure it out. This wasn’t his first time dealing with someone who had anxiety and it was a big part of why he knew some of the go to techniques to help ground someone who was showing signs of one.

He had never been affected by anxiety like some of his peers, something he was thankful for, but he was a team player and always down to figure out how to help those around him. So as she finally started to process that in fact she was having a panic attack, she finally began to list out some things that seemed to calm her down.

They were a bit much and not what he expected, but he supposed that was what women tended to do so it didn’t bother him any. He only offered a half chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah it’s a much, but what can you do. Teenagers, hormones, you know how the whole shtick goes.” His voice was relatively calm, toeing the line between monotone and just enough fluctuation in tone that he seemed engaged.

This was good though. She was talking, though he wasn’t sure if it was a nervous habit or if it was more to do with the fact that she was a rambler, but still she was talking. Meant for now he could stow his concern about her panic attack.

I'm Ahlivia by the way. You're that new football player, right? The one that just transferred?

Mick wasn’t sure how to feel about being recognized, at least not for his sport. He was known for so many other things like being the son of a major politician, or the heir to a chip company, or even that he was a danseur, a good one at that. Being known as the new football player? That was a bit of a change from the status quo.

Her name was Ahlivia, he’d retain that name, because she seemed like a nice girl and he was short on friends here outside of Xi, but he couldn’t really consider the girl he was dating a friend, right? Or was that more about semantics and he was really making much ado about nothing.

“Michael, but I prefer Mick or Murph..but never Mickey.”

He chuckled a bit offering her a gentle smile trying to make sure that their conversation stayed light, “Good to meet you, Ahlivia. Um, am I intruding on you and your date though?”









playing...
Ocean Avenue

by Yellowcard




just a regular suit




@Melanin-Gxdess
mentions mentions mentions


º º code by ditto º º
 






Remi P. Michel



Collab with Kitsune2202 Kitsune2202

Well mission of the day was finally over. She got herself a dress, and got Charlie out of the house long enough to get one for her as well so she'll actually go to the ball. She wished it could've been a nice regular shopping trip with her bestie, but of course all the drama wouldn't allow for that.

For starters all the drama around Charlie because of the Arts Fest and her being framed for deleting Chas's movie. Secondly her date for the ball was outted for betraying her roommate (and his best friend) by sleeping with Saint of all people. Yup Josie's Ex...great. Now Amy was supposed to hate Saint because he did to her what Dei did to her...but Amy sadly doesn't have a hateful bone in her body. So here she was now connected to TWO people she should hate, but doesn't. Not to be mistaken she thinks what they did was shitty and does not support them! However she gave Lucky her word, and plus it's not like they were going to spend much time together anyways. Just at this point he was more of a glorified chauffer. She just hated the feeling of 100% abandoning someone especially when they were clearly in a rough spot...even if self inflicted. Yah she's an idiot.

Actually...maybe she is more then an idiot. She began to question if maybe she just...wasn't a good person. Do good people show any support towards bad people? Or do they do like Charlie and drag them through the mud for their mistakes? Which brings her to drama number 3 which actually involves her. Corey the sweetheart decided it was a good idea even if for a split second to kiss her and Amy tried protecting him by waiting to tell Remi...which might've worked if she actually knew Corey well enough to know his last name. Then Remi wouldn't have felt the need to spill the drama all over Public twitter.
Yup she was definitely blaming herself for that whole mess. Even though Remi and Corey both said they weren't mad or blamed, her she knew better. She was smarter then that she should've controlled that better. She should've told Remi the day it happened honestly. Then maybe he wouldn't be so mad. Ugh it was a headache.

All she wanted to do right now was see him. She just needed to be with him. Then maybe all of this would just melt away. Maybe she could forget about how anxious she felt talking to his cousin about him and Maggie going to the ball together. Sure they already Dm'd about it and things were fine it'd just...one thing after another and once again just like a few months ago she was feeling like she was one slip up, one crack away from falling in a pit she wasn't sure she could crawl back out of again. Her head was only barely above the water, and every twitter battle felt like waves crashing into her threatening to submerge her in the undertow never to be seen again.

Maybe she shouldn't be...maybe she just wasn't built for this lifestyle. Maybe she wasn't tough enough, maybe she was too soft, too naïve, too optimistic. Too scared. After all it was fear that kept her from telling Remi immediately. She should've told him in person but she was afraid of losing her nerve if he seemed upset. It was hard enough via Text which it shouldn't have been. With a deep breathe she walked up to his door and knocked a few times, "It's me Honey." She called out hoping he was home. Sure they'd made plans but you never know. He's a popular guy and maybe while she wanted nothing more then to curl up with him and feel the warm embrace of his arms around her to make her feel safe and seen...maybe he was still upset or bothered and wanted some space.

Frustration. Perhaps that was the best way to put Remi's most recent mood in everything. It started when he found out that Amy had a date to the ball - which was probably more his fault than anything. He shouldn't have just assumed she would or wouldn't already have a date, and as soon he found out his trip to Haiti was moved to another week he should have made sure that he told Amy.

It's probably why he wasn't actually angry with Amy when everything transpired earlier on twitter with Corey. He knew what it felt like having something important and not knowing when the right time or how to say it, or just assuming that everything was going to work out and it wasn't a big deal. That didn't change that things were frustrating. Everything non-stop had been frustrating from Dei, to his unofficial relationship, to hearing about his cousin coming to school. This Corey kissing Amy thing and how it blew up on twitter just par for the course.

Remi was always the busy boy - between traveling for football (he had gone to a lot of invite only events and trainings), film and acting, and of course school. He never really had down time even with the fact that he was between sports seasons. Baseball didn't start until spring semester, or winter semester. Whatever it was called in high school. So this time with Amy was rare, and he wasn't going to let the little incident ruin it.

When he heard the knock on his door, he rose to his feet. He wasn't sure if it was Amy, though it was a good gues it was, because she had a key. Though he had to remember how she was and how they could probably live together, and she'd still knock. He shook his head moving over to the door, opening it to see her standing there, "Hey, um. Come in."

He didn't mean to come off as whatever he came off as so he cleared his throat and put his hands on her hips before she could come in,"Sorry, I mean hey babe.." and he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

Despite having a key Amy would probably always still knock. To be fair it was half because it was just who she was as a person. She even knocks on her roommates doors and such even though she is pretty sure she is the only one who does. Secondly is because she is still always slightly afraid of walking in and seeing something she shouldn't. Something she'd rather not even if in the end it's for the best. She never wants that to happen again...

Was that fair? Nope. To be honest a lot of things she's done to Remi since he confessed his feelings to her haven't been fair to him. None of it has been his fault and he has never given her a reason, outside of guilt by association, to think anything bad will happen. So why? Why despite knowing all that can she not stop letting her fear cloud her judgment?

Times like this didn't help. Normally when they saw each other there would be a bright smile on his face and a 'hey babe' or something along those lines with a hug or peck on perhaps the cheek, or head, or something. Even when they were friends at least a hug. So his initial reaction despite how excited she was to see him made her freeze in place a moment.

Was he still mad about earlier? He had every right to be honestly. Amy had been slipping, and she hated it. She hated herself for it. Before she could mutter anything like an apology or question if he really wanted her to come over he placed his hands on her hips and corrected himself. Too bad with an over-thinker like Amy the damage was done and while she didn't vocalize her thoughts they were still there. Still wondering if he was upset, and would rather be left alone. Wondering if he was only ok with her being over because he'd promised her they'd spend time together.

"No it's fine, really!" She assured putting on a brave face trying to hide the insecure intrusive thoughts. She wrapped her arms around him in a light embrace placing her forehead against his shoulder to hide her face for a moment before he let her in.

She let her hands slide down his arm into his hand as she walked inside, "So how was your day? What do you wanna do?" She asked curiously.

He knew better. He knew Amy well enough to know that despite his attempt to recover from his slight transgression that she would overthink. He needed to do better, and be more aware of his actions and not let his own mind affect how he moved about with her.

When their intertwined, he led her towards the living room area. He looked over to the couch and the large tv, then over to the kitchen. "Let's watch that show you've been wanting to watch and I can cook some food for you. Maybe uh, tassot? And red beans and rice?"

Haitian food reminded him of home and it was definitely a comfort food, and he wanted to share that with her.

Amy did her best to not only push aside her insecurities, but also push aside the drama. Charlie bolted off and she knew it had to be an emergency earlier for her to do so. She knew Charlie would tell her when she was ready what happened, but the nerves did eat at her. Still none of that was Remi's problem and she didn't wanna make it his problem any more then she already had.

"Oh that sounds like fun! I am a bit hungry I didn't get to eat earlier with Charlie while we were dress shopping." She chimed. thinking back on the better part of the day served as a gentle distraction and a gateway to lifting her mood. "I can't wait till you see my dress!" she chimed excitedly.

She reached for the remote to turn on the TV and find Hulu so she could find the show. She was in the mood for something funny. "I think i wanna actually watch a rom-com you know?"

His hands found her shoulders and he placed his lips on top of her head, placing a gentle kiss before moving away from her. He had a lot on his mind if he was being honest, but maintaining the visage that he had everything together was at the top of his priority list. He needed everyone around him to believe he had it together.

Then she brought up her dress and that facade faltered a bit, as a bit of irritation surged through his spine. He was unsure on what to make of it. What to make of his feelings about that, so he chose to act is if was a normal part of the conversation and ignore it.

Which was probably the best to allow their evening to continue as normal…









playing...
Int'l Players Anthem

by UGK, Outkast




clothes for the collab




Kitsune2202 Kitsune2202 ish a collab
mentions mentions mentions


º º code by ditto º º
 






Remi P. Michel



It had really been nothing but sports related things for Remi as the days led up to the Winter Ball. He was trying to keep himself busy anytime he wasn’t with Amy. He spent a good amount of time running through routes with

In his head – he knew that tonight could have been a better situation. It was bothering him just enough for him to be a little put off by the situation. It wasn’t hard to tell that this situation was more consolation prize than anything. He liked Maggie, perhaps loved her, but she clearly did not return those feelings for him. She would have said something in response to the message that he left his drunken stupor, right? It would have been more than her ignoring it altogether and awkwardly seeming to avoid him, right?

His mistake. A lesson on why he shouldn’t get drunk and just focus on his physical stature. His physique and brain were his bread winners, he didn’t need a girlfriend to accomplish the goals he had set out for himself. Maybe that wasn’t completely true for the man who prided himself on making connections to further his career. That’s why he was as successful as he was at HA right? He was an elected SGA officer based on his charisma. He was president of FCA because of his charm. He was the leader of state championship football team because of his leadership.

Yet, he seemed to be fumbling the romantic side of things. Being diplomatic wasn’t as great as a strategy as he hoped for it to be. He thought perhaps he learned from his fiasco with Nickie. Or perhaps his time with Luciana would have given him more direction on how to navigate through things? Incorrect. He had obviously made a mistake with Maggie and Dei had basically destroyed his chances with Amy. Though, that was probably a bit of an overstatement. They were doing well – for the most part. There were still little insecurities that appeared here and there, but still, it was going well even if not where he wanted to be.

Well, I guess that begged the question, if it was going so well then why was he here with Maggie and not Amy? Was that the little devil playing in his ear though? The conniving canary whispering little evil things to get Remi to switch up? Who knows, but even with how he felt he was going to let Maggie see him break a sweat. He was an actor anyways, so it would be easy to play the role of everyone who had it together. He had been playing that role his entire life.

So of course he treated this night like he would have even if it was Amy on the other side of him. Well, of course maybe the hugs and kisses that would normally accompany such an endeavor with your significant other He took her to dinner and all of the good stuff, and despite all of the nonsense going through his head, he was reminded why he even had an inclination to date her in the first place. They were perfect together. Their friendship was immaculate, easy, stress free. He didn’t smoke, so she generally didn’t around him, but even for the woman who was always high they always seemed to have a good time when she was sober.

So as he stood across from her he offered her a smile.

Here we are. Too bad they aren't playing anything good right now. I guess it's too early get turnt." she giggled. "see anything worth exploring ?

He chuckled a bit as he mulled over what she was saying, “It’s HA, I think you and I might have different views of getting /turnt/ than the faculty might have. Uhh, nothing in particular though, to be honest I’m sure Amy is going to pull me away soon. You know, unofficial boyfriend duties.” He let a little irritation slip on the last part when he wasn’t intending to.









playing...
Int'l Players Anthem

by UGK, Outkast




DASHING




Kitsune2202 Kitsune2202
mentions mentions mentions


º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: dance!?!?

OUTFIT: suit

LOCATION: ball
basics
MENTIONS:
Javi, Adriane

INT:
ditto ditto (Kelli)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Angel Cervantes
Angel's bashful grin stretched itself wider upon Kelli's acceptance of his compliments. This whole exchange was such a dreadful formality, not that he hadn't meant all the comments on the girl's beauty. He had to admit the whole thing gave him a warm, glowing feeling within. It wasn't often that he was the recipient of such genuine, eager jubilation. Most of his conversation partners either took some degree of pity on him or called him out for being the eccentric kid he was.

As he continued speaking, something in his words seemed to catch a snag in Kelli's attention, eliciting a look of slight bewilderment. He lifted a brow and let out a polite chuckle in a strange preemptive apology. "Ah, heck, what did I say now?" His hand scratched at the back of his dark, tousled hair the instant his eyes began to lose contact with those of the girl in front of him. He hadn't even realized how confidently he'd been making eye contact until his mind began to wander, and once his thoughts trailed, it took an immense amount of effort to ground him.

Curiously, Kelli began to shake her head with an earnest expression of disagreement. Even further to Angel's surprise, the girl turned out to be much better at reassuring than his standard expectations typically permitted. "The hype?" he repeated incredulously, refraining from shrinking any further, "That's a new one." He coughed out a stifled giggle, mostly responding to the novelty of a.) being waited upon and b.) living up to any positive descriptor, no less a totally cool one.

He waited patiently for Kelli to get to her point, although a part of him was saying to interrupt her in an effort to lift her out of whatever hole that seemed to cave in her head. Interrupting wasn't polite, though, and he'd already begun to space out while he awaited a less discombobulated response. An experienced Angel communicator could usually catch him immediately as he started to zone out given the way his eyes began to sit still while his irises pulsated on an invisible rhythm. He stared right through the girl but kept an attentive ear as though he was watching two screens at once.

Robots could do that, and that was part one of his theory that half the human race could have already been unsuspectingly replaced with hyper-realistic androids. Actually, that kind of reminded him of a concept he forgot to write down for art class. Then again, was it worth making a note of? He'd already done more robot pieces in the past week than most people did in their lifetime.

Hm... speaking of robots, Javi would totally have had crushing claw arms if he was a robot. And then Angel would have grappling hook arms because they're related and it would make sense. And then—

"Dancing’s not about…uh, comparing yourself to other people — ‘cuz if that’s what it was about, then, well…I wouldn’t be dancing at all, and I wouldn’t’ve danced at all," Kelli managed to remark, getting to a most peculiar point. Angel furrowed his brows, struggling to wrap his head around it.

"Yeah, that's... well... I've never thought of it like that. I mean, I learned to draw by copying pictures out of comic books and from the T.V.," he said with a bit of dubious uncertainty in his voice, "So you'd think I'd be comparing all the time, but it's kind of the opposite. It's a lot of... what's the word?" He placed a hand on his chin while he thought, so pensive his gaze nearly burned holes into the ground.

"Contrasting. It's a lot of contrasting," he decided upon, tapping each word with his index finger for emphasis, "You come to realize you've developed your own style without even thinking about it. And with dance, when you move different than people who are really good then, you know... it looks a little silly." He shrugged, unable to excuse his blatant cowardice.

Immediately, Kelli shook her head. “It’s about having fun, Angel!” she said, “Moving your body and kinda just…letting it all out! You don’t have to be ‘good’ or whatever to dance at a time like this — you just gotta dance!”

Yeah, okay, maybe when it came down to it, he was thinking about it way too much. It's really not that deep, right? "Right! You're right," he agreed, still unsure as ever where to even start. He wanted to just have fun, but now that he'd admitted how unconfident he was in his dance skills, Kelli would definitely pay attention to them and thus embarrass him even more.

Before they could critically debate the concept further, a warmth enveloped Angel's clammy hands, and he had to blink twice and keep his mind from leaving his body. The suit-clad boy stopped himself from looking down at their hands, fighting the instinctual panic that glossed over his eyes. "Okay, yeah!" he managed to reply to the dancer's suggestion, but his feet didn't follow. Although Kelli began to tug lightly, he remained rooted in the ground while his body caught up with his mind.

His mouth went dry; something was making him dangerously lightheaded. Another gentle pull spurred him into action and he blinked rapidly, then finally moved in the direction of the dance floor with Kelli. Whatever was happening, it was definitely new and it was definitely not something he'd simulated in his head before.

Kelli's melodic voice entered his ear, prefacing their little lesson with a warning Angel could only half hear due to the noise of the dance and the cotton in his head. "You say that, but you're a literal dancer," he countered with a laugh, horrified to notice how his hand was still shaking a little, "I think we'll do alright."

At the start of their impromptu waltz, Angel made more than one misstep, and the pair had to retry several times to get into the swing of things. It was excruciatingly embarrassing, especially as Kelli looked up and apologized like she wasn't so perfect it was a struggle to accommodate for his clumsy movement. He smiled brightly to save her any worries, especially since he honestly could have done this forever if he wasn't so concerned with if she was enjoying this at all.

It was a worthy effort, though, and the more they went on with it, the less his poor motor skills seemed to matter. "Hands!?" he exclaimed, his grin spreading from cheek to cheek. Now this would be something really comical. Angel had only just started to align his leg movements with Kelli's. At least he hadn't stepped on her yet.

He kept head facing downwards as he made an effort to keep moving with some semblance of grace, but the stellar legwork they'd worked on seemed to fall by the wayside with the introduction of arm stuff. Their steady movements waned, as did the distance between the two of them. With their hands still locked together, Angel softly squeezed at Kelli's palms, holding on for the fear of breaking whatever synchrony they had.

He looked back up, joining Kelli in her carefree laughter. He let out a few quiet laughs that soon devolved into near-silence. Relaxing in his eventual ease, all Angel could muster was a crooked grin beneath a pair of tenderly gazing eyes. Side to side they went, each step half as wide as the last.

...Maybe it was the resounding thump, thump in his chest. Maybe it was how unusual it was to be touching a girl's hand. Maybe it was the bright lights and big crowd, but that fuzzy feeling in Angel's head sure was persistent. No longer was he erring on the side of lightheadedness, but his head felt light. Like the two of them were standing among the clouds, suspended in the air by some divine, unnamed force.

At least, that's how this whole thing felt. Unnamed. Uncertain. New. Butterflies in his chest didn't even begin to explain the half of it.

"Hey, you're murmuring," he breathed, no longer needing the "in and out"'s Kelli had been supplying anyway. What were they doing? Angel dove headfirst into her gray eyes, distracted with something other than his own thoughts; that was new. Do most people dance this slow? Silence enveloped the pair as every other sound faded away. Surely people were watching. That was, of course, until they faded away too.

He was thinking of her. Right in front of her, he'd spaced out, only for his mind to wander back to the image of her laughing and smiling, assuring him that he wasn't totally crazy for just being himself. Her graceful form walked among his thoughts like a light mist, enveloping his vision with a rosy, pink tint.

It was likely that not very much time had passed since they started dancing, but every second idly dancing felt like an hour. Alone with Kelli and his thoughts, the two began to overlap so much to the point that Angel wasn't even certain this ballroom was rooted in reality.

He jumped, suddenly realizing where he was and what he was doing and that his consciousness was, in fact, rooted in a physical form. His fingers slipped away from Kelli's, replacing their soothing warmth with the cool emptiness of fresh air on his clammy hands.

"So, is it my turn to give you an art lesson?" he spoke up impishly, secretly lamenting their quiet moment's end, "You make a great teacher. I feel like I can do anything... involving dance." He began to get into an off-beat jig with his newfound skill of not watching other people's eyes on him.

"I think you've created a monster!" the artist cried, making a fool of himself. Realistically, no one was probably watching anyway, but it somehow felt better to pretend that there was. Like Kelli had inspired him enough to just blend into the crowd and not worry about how he looked doing it. So yeah, suck it, Adriane!

Once he'd had enough of that, he flipped it back onto Kelli. "So, d'y'know any crazy tricks? I don't know about you, but I'm a real fanatic for the robot. Not just because I'm a robot guy. Although if there was a dance for aliens and lizard people, I would be equally as interested." After a short pause, he added, "Kelli, if you're a lizard person, now's the time to tell me, because I'm not sure you can get any cooler."
code by valen t.
 







Landon Sinclaire




You and me.

She was right. They had to stop focusing on what their relationship meant to other people and focus on what really mattered. How they felt. What they wanted. Landon and Gen. Not the other students watching their every move. Or the paparazzi. Not Evie, even though he hoped she’d come around.

You and me.

Her words echoed in his brain like a radiating mantra that both soothed him, but made him feel like something was completely out of whack. He couldn’t place his finger on it and it wasn’t an overwhelming presence. It was like this dull ache in the very back of his head. Like a thought you knew you had and it was really important or insightful…like it would solve all of your problems in an instant, but you just lost the thought. It didn’t exist anymore and all that was left was the essence of brilliance.

Thankfully, Gen had beautiful timing as he felt her hand grip his, pulling him toward the dance floor and metaphorically out of his thoughts. Her arms wrapped around him, his hands slid down her back and rested on her waist. They fit together perfectly. It made sense. Why he and Gen would be together. Even if Evie didn’t understand, everyone else did. He did. It was these moments. When they were together. Just the two of them. They made perfect sense.

His eyes drifted down as he felt her pull back. He searched her eyes as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. God she was so hot. And always knew how to make things better. “You are so perfect.” He couldn’t hide the goofy smile that adorned his face. She really did always know what to say to make him feel better. Guess that was the beauty of dating someone you actually cared about. Someone who really knew you.

“Lan? Is everything okay?” Landon sighed as the buzz of his phone interrupted their moment. He had meant to turn it off. He had promised himself no interruptions. From anything and anyone.

“Sorry…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I thought I had turned this off.” He had planned to just turn it off. Be done with it. Go back to his insanely gorgeous date, who happened to be his girlfriend. Easy. No problems. No distractions.

New Message from Mike Reid

The name alone caused rage to flow throughout his entire body. What could he possibly have to say? Mike always had something to say. When it was directed toward Landon, it usually had an exceptionally high level of disdain. He still didn’t know exactly what had caused the rift…why Mike attacked him last year, but he was over it.

Yeah. Did he kiss him last month? Yes. He did. Still hated the fucker. But he was intrigued. He wanted to know what Mike had to say. After the weird ass DMs. Curiosity was getting the better of him. He’d just read it real quick. And then he could put it out of his head. See what the jackass had to say and be done with it. He’d won. He’d gotten the girl. There wasn’t much the douchebag could…

Comee to the fukcking bathroom right now. I'm going to fuciking kill you.

Kill him? He was going to kill him? What. The. Fuck. Did. He. Do?! Had they even seen the grumpy elf tonight? He hadn’t. And Gen hated him, too, so I’d assume they would have at least discussed it. Rage flooded his veins. He was done. Done taking this guy’s shit. He wanted a fight. He wanted a throw down, then Landon Sinclaire was going to give it to him.

He took a deep breath. He knew he wasn’t fully able to hide his reaction. His eyes finally met Gen’s once more before his softened and a small smile formed. “I’m so sorry, baby, but Donna is freaking out about this audition on Monday. Apparently they’ve made some last minute changes.” He hated lying. Hated. It. But because of being an actor, he was good at it.

“I have to make a quick call.” She’d understand. Work was important to both of them and it wouldn’t take him long to use Mike’s head as a toilet brush. “Ten minutes.” He said as he placed a soft kiss on her lips before making his way out into the hall.

Mike Reid was dead.

DEAD.

That was just all there was to it. He was done with the comments. The jabs. The sneak attacks from out of left field. Every time Landon thought he was out of his life, Mike had to remind him that he still existed. That he could still get under his skin. Why? Who the fuck knew? Mike was a dick. Even Mike wouldn’t deny it. He was proud of that fact. But why him? His former best friend? Like this was just some game and Mike was the only one with the rules.

He charged through the bathroom door. His eyes immediately found Mike’s. A scowl formed as the door shut behind him. Mike looked like his head was about to explode. And even in Landon’s rage, he still tried to figure out what he could have done to earn this. To earn this level of hatred from someone who, at one point, cared about him.

He reached over and locked the bathroom door. It was gonna be a cage match and they couldn’t afford any interruptions. He took a deep breath. This was an epic battle. The final battle. The one everyone waits for at the end of a movie. It was usually prefaced by the villain giving an over the top monolog, but Landon wasn’t going to give Mike the satisfaction.

No. Fucking. Way.

Mike liked to talk too much.

This time. The hero was going to do the talking.

Landon eyed Mike up and down and a small smirk formed on his face. It was as if something clicked in his mind. “What is it this time, Mikey?” He said as he slid off his jacket and neatly hung it over a stall door. There was no need to get blood on a perfectly good jacket. He held up a hand before Mike could speak. “Let me guess…” He faked a ‘eureka’ moment.

“I’m the scum of the earth. I don’t deserve to exist. I’m nothing. I have the brain of a fucking goldfish. I’m an irrelevant piece of trash and I have no business being alive.” He rolled his eyes and mimicked a yawn. “This is all getting pretty old, isn’t it?”

He traced his finger along the sink as he closed the distance between them slowly. “I’ve been racking my brain. Trying to figure it out. Trying to figure out what your fucking problem is and why every time I’m around you, you turn into an angry leprechaun who thinks I stole his pot of gold.”

He stopped a few feet from his enemy. His arms crossed his chest and a smug smirk…the one Mike hates…formed on his face. “You’re jealous.” He chuckled darkly.This was no time to hold back. No time to be gentle. Mike wanted a fight. Mike wanted to throw away their friendship. Mike chose to become enemies. “It was probably my money at first…seeing as you have none. Then my talent and success…still nothing there for you. And now…well…I got the girl and you’re out here being the president of HA’s Babysitters Club.”

He took a deep breath. “It’s pathetic.” It sucked being this cold. This angry. This hurt. This cavalier about someone’s feelings…especially someone he had considered to be his best friend. But unless Mike could give him a legitimate reason for why Landon deserved his wrath, then it ended tonight. “You are pathetic.”

He maintained his resolve, even though it was wavering. “That’s what it is, right, Mikey?” He said as he stepped closer. “You’re jealous. Can’t stand to see me happy. So hell bent on trying to ruin everything good in my life.”

Another smirk formed. “Come on, Michael. Admit it. I promise I'll keep it just between us.” He winked. Game on.





mood
stoked

location
the dance

outfit
lookin' good





playing...
anything for you
by Ludo




mentions
evie

interactions
gen & mike

tags
geminiy geminiy ditto ditto


º º code by ditto º º
 
Ezra Gray
@EZGoing has set their status to:
; )

@EZGoing has set their outfit to:
daddy's yacht energy ngl

@EZGoing has set their location to:
the ball

@EZGoing has mentioned:
Casey, Bella

@EZGoing has interacted with:
Chas

@EZGoing has tagged:
hery hery

Look, Ezra was absolutely no stranger to making people squirm. All it took was one simple conversation with the boy to know that he had a soft spot for teasing, deriving personal pleasure from the playful irritation that came as a result of his words. Ezra especially liked the people that denied themselves the chance to actually have fun and play into his stupid antics, people exactly like Chas Marino.

He could understand why people didn’t like Chas. Chas was an asshole with an anger problem and a mouth that spoke, Ezra was convinced, without any thought at all besides ‘rage rage rage rage rage’. He went after anyone and everyone, not one of those pathetic bullies that only go after the little weaklings in society. It was endlessly amusing to watch Chashuahua attack anyone that breathed, even more entertaining when he turned his anger on Ezra.

There was something about the little guy getting all red in the face and pissed that was ultimately intriguing to Ez. That fact alone would have been enough to keep Ezra coming back, but the additional factor remained: Chas enjoyed Ezra just as much as Ezra enjoyed him, he just wouldn’t admit it.

"So, that's it? You come up to me with a glass of sparkling whatever-the-hell, swish it in my face like someone's pretentious billionaire dad, and expect conversation?" There it was, that adorable little nip that was supposed to act as some sort of Ez-Deterrent, met with a heavy sigh. "You know, you're really one to talk. Who did you even come here with? Are [i[you not stranded[/i[? Who comes on the prowl for a hookup to a ball built for couples? Wouldn't you be better off giving a b.j. to a DJ?"

That was the sentence that forced the uncontrollable smirk onto Ezra’s face, cheeks dimpling as he mirrored Chas’s angry arm cross. Although his lips had parted to speak, Chas had hardly allowed him time to do so, continuing on with his little tantrum. To any other person, this would be a prompt sign to leave. For Ezra, this was simply an excuse for his smirk to widen and the gaze being stared down at the shorter boy to turn dark with endless ideas.

"Seriously, Ezra, not tonight.” Chas continued, posture falling out of tension. Right, not tonight. That’s why Chas simply hadn’t walked away. He totally wasn’t interested in conversation. “I'm really not doing this right now, so you're better off getting lost before Casey gets the wrong idea.”

Ah yes, Casey the Boyfriend. Ezra hadn’t even said anything and Chas was already jumping to conclusions. Couldn’t Ezra simply talk without it being some sort of horny display? No, typically not and if we’re being honest here, Ezra would be a goddamn liar if he said those little remarks thrown at Chas over the weeks of talking had no merit behind them.

"And Casey likes everyone, so leave it to you to be enough of a presumptuous meddler to strike a nerve. Like... shit... what could you possibly want with me now, Ezra? Wouldn't you rather take in all the gaudy chandeliers in your own elegant, cliché little midnight reverie, off with some ditzy art girl? I'm sure it'll be the first and last of anything remotely classy you'll ever attend before you piss someone off enough to get your scholarship revoked." Chas waved, a dainty little thing matched with some sort of ridiculous smile. "Enjoy returning to your little Oceanic hovel, art boy. I'll be here having the time of my life with my boyfriend, who respects me enough not to call me a bottom every five seconds."

Ezra slowly placed his glass down as if he was about to leave, taking in a sharp breath before rather obnoxiously beginning to clap for Chas. “Well done, my friend, I was wondering when you’d finally snap. Now that you’ve gotten your silly little rant out of the way, we can talk like civil people. Besides,” Ezra’s eyes drifted over the crowd of dancers to Casey and some girl with her arms wrapped around his waist, “looks like your little boyfriend is busy. I’m sure he won’t mind if we have a friendly conversation.”

Over Chas’s shoulder was Wendy, the girl from earlier, and some other girl giggling wildly as Wendy waved towards Ezra once her eyes caught his. Ezra sighed, shaking his head as he took Chas’s shoulders and spun him around to change places with him.

“Much better,” Ezra nodded, carefully dropping his hand from Chas’s shoulder to the glass on the table, “some people just have no self-control. Thirsty isn’t a good look, am I right?”

There was a hypocrite remark in there somewhere, Ezra could feel it.

“Now, where were we? Oh right, civil conversation. Platonic only, scout’s honour. Wouldn’t wanna piss off your little boyfriend feelin’ up another girl over there.” Ezra raised his empty hand in a little stupid salute. A deep laugh bubbled from Ezra’s chest as he shook his head at his own words, looking down at Chas with a tilted head and a somewhat sympathetic scrunch of his eyebrows. “Seriously, why are you with that guy? He ditched you for someone else and now you’re turning away your favourite person in the school. Honestly, Chas, I’m concerned for you. You’re well on your way to hermit status.”

A couple near the speakers appeared out of what seemed like thin air. Obviously they had been hidden from view by the large black speakers thumping out music. Smirk returning, Ezra downed the contents of his glass and wrapped an arm around Chas’s shoulders, guiding him away from the drink table towards where the couple had been without a word.

“Come on, seems there’s a place we can talk without you worrying about your little boyfriend. You need a break from his childish behaviour and it seems he’ll be busy for a while.” Ezra directed as he walked towards the spot, arm still wrapped around Chas’s shoulder until they dipped behind the speaker. Then, his hand extended in perfect time with a playful wink. “Dance with me. Or are you too proud of yourself to deny yourself that pleasure too?”

º º code by ditto º º
 






trevor callaghan​


No, Trevor wasn’t feckin’ nervous; no, his head didn’t hurt; yes, he was completely feckin’ fine; and no, he definitely was feeling completely stable right now. Yes, he could stand up on his own; no, he wasn’t tightly gripping the sink just to keep himself upright; yes, he was ready for this; and no, he wasn’t considering going back on it at feckin’ all.

But also — feck, was he nervous, and feck, did his head hurt, and feck, was he not fine, and feck, was he feeling unstable, and feck, was he unable to stand up on his own, and feck, was he completely not feckin’ ready for this at feckin’ all.

“Drammmmmma king!” Jo’s sing-song voice made him flinch. His head was pounding so hard that his brains were going to start gushing out of his ears. “Come on! The party awaits us!"

He looked between the hand that held a flask and the hand that held a few bags of blunts. He felt like a feckin’ toddler, compelled to reach out with grabby hands and say gimme gimme gimme like they were his feckin’ security blanket.

No. No, he didn’t need those tonight, and yes, he was totally fine right how.

Holyfeckmyheadhurtssofeckinbad.

Jo’s expression shifted from excitement to revolt, and Trevor tried not to mirror her expression, gritting his teeth and keeping his tight smile plastered on his face. “Okay. Are you trying to get some action tonight or just aiming to get dumped?” she asked. “Because —“

“It’s a hot tie!” Trevor insisted. “I’m feckin’ sexy!”

This is the ugliest feckin’ tie I’ve ever feckin’ seen in my feckin’ life, holy shite.

“— There is no way Ash is gonna see you in that tie and want you to rail her,” she finished, snickering.

“Shut up,” he grunted, his face thoroughly unamused.

So much for feigning happiness for Jo. He tried, okay? For a few solid feckin’ moments, he tried.

“Here, let me just…” She reached out and adjusted his tie, then pulled out her phone to take pictures.

“Hey!” he hissed, moving to cover up the tie, but before he could, she was already done.

Nononono, feck no, here came the feckin’ Twitter storm.

Jo turned the screen toward him. His mug lit up the screen, accompanied by a godawful Sean tie. His brows upturned in desperation, and he reached for the phone. “Delete those,” he pleaded desperately, “please.”

Jo shrugged. “Send that to Nana and say the tie was a huge hit,” she instructed casually. “You’re not wearing that thing to the dance.”

He blinked at her as she turned away. He watched her sift through a few ties for a couple of seconds, and then it registered.

Oh right. She was his best friend. Practically his sister. She legitimately wanted to help sometimes.

It was easy to feckin’ forget, okay? His brain didn’t feckin’ work under stress.

Wait, stress? Had he said stress?

No, no, no, there was no stress here. He was fine. Just feckin’ peachy.

“Sm…,” he started, still a bit dumbfounded, and a few a few more moments, he finished, “art.”

She held another, more reasonable tie up to his neck. "Now this one, Ash will totally be drooling over you," she said with a wink, letting it fall in his hands.

He looked down at it, and then back up to Jo skeptically. He glanced at his reflection and into his dull, dark, pissed off brown eyes, and he sighed softly.

Feck, was he ever insufferable.

With a scoff at himself and a small, genuine chuckle, he glanced over at Jo. A small smile cracked across his face. “Fine,” he said. “If you say so.”

I trust you.

……………………​

♫ “STRAWBERRY CHAMPAGNE ON ICE. LUCKY FOR YOU, THATS WHAT I LIKE, THATS WHAT I LIIIIIIKE” ♫

HOWLONGISTHISGODDAMNSONG?!

His knuckles, tightened around his wheel, were white, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that his teeth were bound to shatter. Every muscle in his body was tense. His head was throbbing to the pulse of the pounding heart within his tight chest.

FECKFECKFECKFECKFECK.

Traffic was feckin’ awful, because of course it was, because it was a feckin’ Saturday in feckin’ Los Angeles feckin’ California feckin’ United States of feckin’ America, and Trevor’s thin nerves were wearin’ feckin’ tissue paper thin.

BRAINHURTSBRAINHURTSBRAINHURTSBRAINHURTS.

Still, he forced the corners of his lips upward. Jo seemed to be enjoying herself, and he wasn’t going to take that away just because he “was totally feckin’ fine”. She was dancing to the same GODDAMN SONG OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND FECKIN’ OVER AGAIN ON FULL BLAST…but she was enjoying herself, and he…well, he was…

He was glad about that.

She’d been through so much this past week. The least he could do was be here for her.

And he did enjoy that. As much as he hated everything around this circumstance, he did…he did like this. He couldn’t explain it. Even with the headaches, even with the…totally not feckin’ stress.

Even if it pisses Ash off.

The thought crossed his mind, and he tried to dismiss it, but he couldn’t.

Ash didn’t want him to be here with Jo. She wanted him to be there for her, alone for her. Was this a shitty thing to do? To even act like he was feckin’ enjoying himself? To be feckin’ enjoying himself when he’d made her promise to save her dances for him alone?

When he drifted back into vaguely registering the events occurring around him, the van was parked in the parking spot and turned off, and Jo was looking over at him, with eager eyes and an excited expression. “You ready to go in?”

He felt the color drain from his face as a shock rocked his body — a visceral, physical reaction that answered his question for him: feck no.

He felt like he was bottoming out. The world around him was slightly static-y, the corners of his vision black. He swayed a bit, and his fingers felt like they were petrified against the wheel. “R…” As he started to try to talk, he felt as though he couldn’t get any air in.

His eyes gave a painful ache, and he realized he hadn’t blinked. He shook his head, forcing his eyes open and closed a few times. He tried another deep breath, but he failed again. “Ready?” he repeated breathlessly. As he pried his fingers from the wheel, he registered that they were shaking — and not only them, but his whole arm, as though he was suddenly a feckin’ feeble Victorian child. “F-Feck yeah, I was feckin’ born ready,” he said. Internally, he tried to feel it: I’m so feckin’ ready to march in there, tell her how I…

How I…

How I —

Feckfeckfeckfeckfeckfeck.

He tried again to get another breath in, but it was short. Again he tried, again he failed. Again and again and again.

OhfeckI’mhyperventilatingI’mhyperventilatingI’m —

“Pregame?”

The heavily breathing boy lifted his head to see Jo holding up the bags and the flask again.

His conscience begged him, Sean, you can’t feckin’ show up to the dance all kinds of fucked up when you’re going to ask Ash to go public.

But his anxiety repeated, Ask Ash to go public.

Ask Ash to be go public.

Ask —

Weakly, he lifted his eyes back to Jo and muttered, “Please.”

……………………​

His hands were still shaking as he exhaled puff one-two-skip-a-few. His heart was still drumming anxiously in his chest. Thud, thud, thud. Still, even with the buzz of activity in his body that told him that this was the feckin’ end of the world, and even with the thoughts that still insisted that it was, too, he felt so much feckin’ calmer with this joint in his hand. Maybe it was just good feckin’ weed, or maybe…maybe it really was his feckin’ security blanket of sorts.

Unluckily for Jo (who undoubtedly was aware of her unlucky situation, seeing as she knew him better than most anyone else save his other roommates), Trevor, with any substance inside of him, never feckin’ shut up.

“Y’know…,” he started slowly. “I…” He breathed out a sigh. “I thought I was feckin’ ready for tanight — an’ — an’, I mean, I really feckin’ am ready, never been feckin’ readier for anythin’ in my l…” He looked at the joint, trembling between his fingers. “In my…life, ya know? Be…because I, ah…” He was mesmerized by the smoke for a moment, and then he continued. “I…care about her. A…a lot. More — more an’, like, ya know, different than anyone else I’ve ever known, ya know?”

He brought the joint to his lips again, drawing in another puff. After another few moments, he exhaled. “Be…because, ah, at first, I was just thinkin’, Damn, she’s hot, I want to stick my dick in her, but…she…I dunno. I just…I’m…I feel…different now.” He shrugged, shifting back in his seat a little bit. “An’…an’ we fought — did I tell ya we fought? We fought, after you an’ me talked last Saturday. We fought…really feckin’ bad.” The recollection of it made his face screw up.

He’d forgotten that he hadn’t told Jo about this.

He looked over at his roommate, questioning for a couple of moments of whether or not to tell her, but then he figured that he was too far in now. Feckin’ great going. He’d intended to keep that under wraps, but fuck it. He squeezed his eyes shut. “She…I dunno. She…told feckin’ JJ about us.” The words were sour in his mouth, and his face screwed up further. “Well, she didn’t feckin’ tell JJ — she told blabbermouth feckin’ Maddie, who told blabbermouth feckin’ JJ…an’, ya know, she knows how much I care — cared — whatever — about keepin’ us secret. She knew — knew — I feckin’ said I wasn’t ready, and she did that.” The more he spoke, the more he felt a genuine anger blooming in his chest. “When she wanted to be a secret, I didn’t tell a feckin’ soul until she broke that promise to me, ya know? I didn’t tell…I didn’t tell Amy until after she’d broken her promise to be secret, ya know? An’ then she called me — called me hypocritical? For tellin’ you about her, before we fought, when you and I smoked — she called me hypocritical for that, but she was really the hypocr…”

He opened his eyes and realized that he was practically yelling. With a violent shrug, he huffed, “Whatever. That’s not…” He drew in a deep breath from the joint, closing his eyes and letting the smoke wrap him in its secure embrace before he breathed out. “That’s not important…I guess,” he said, much calmer. The next thoughts that crossed his mind disrupted his expression again, though, his brows flicking down. “An’…that fuckhead she was involved with, who she…who she had feckin’…you know. I can’t even say his fucking name without wanting to vomit in my feckin’ mouth. He makes me fucking ill. An’ — an’ she said…she said that he cared more about her…than…me.” He grit his teeth, the pain in his chest hardly bearable for a few moments. His voice began to rise again. “Like…like she’d been thinkin’ of it. About me versus him. Like it was a feckin’…cliche feckin’ love triangle where the useless stoner feckin’ pathetic simp with a crippling psychological dependency on weed lost out to the guy who was feckin’ perfect and feckin’ shitty in every single…” His voice weakened. “Every single feckin’ way.”

He was silent for a moment, but he was too high now to really think, he guessed, because nothing really crossed his mind aside from a cloud of anger that he couldn’t really discern — a cloud of anger that was boiling up from his stomach.

He cleared his throat, trying to shove it down. When he spoke again, he sounded calm once more. He passed the joint to Jo. “But…but we made up, Jo. I’m…I’m over what she said, and I’m over what — I’m over what she did to — I’m just…I’m over it. B-Because, the more I thought about it, the more I was like…I was like…I was like…I was — ’I lo…’” No, the word there was too strong for now. “’I care about her,’” he corrected. A slightly smile played at the corners of his mouth. “She could say or…do whatever, ya know, an’ at the end of the day…she didn’t say anything that she knew was wrong.”

His expression faded into unreadability. “So I was like…I was like…I promised myself a couple of weeks ago: tonight’s the night that we go public. That, like, I’m able to be — that I…that I stop feckin’ caring about everything else an’ only — only care about, ya know, us an’…an’ I want to do that.” He sighed softly. “Tonight’s — tonight’s me…me turnin’ a new…a new feckin’ leaf. Me showin’…”

I care.

But something interjected, More than Lucky?

More than Lucky?

MorethanLuckyhuhmorethan —

He felt himself shaking again. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to silence the noise, and he lifted his hands to his hair, gripping his head tightly. “Shite, shite, shite,” he hissed painfully, through gritted teeth. “I feel feckin’ sick, sick, sick.”

He lifted his head, holding his hand out for the weed again. “Pass it to me,” he demanded, his voice strained. “And the flask. I need a drink."




mood
high

location
the parking lot

outfit
blue suit (+ currently a yellow tie)





playing...
i wanna slam my head against the wall
by glaive​




mentions
ash & lucky

interactions
jo

tags
jasmyn jasmyn


º º code by ditto º º
 






LINDSAY MORGAN KAY


Loud cackles mixed with bubbling giggled echoed off of the high ceilings and wide hallways as Lindsay’s feet squeaked against the marble floors. His eyes were narrowed in determination, his chest warm and rocking with pure joy and exhilaration. He turned into the main area, making just as grand an entrance as Howellin always did. It was thrilling — running from the paps with his girlfriend in his arms, going as fast as he could, blindly turning corners as Charlie’s shoulder blocked his view, laughing with zero fucks given about anything else.

“Lin!” Charlie yelled suddenly. “Lin slow down! We’re gonna —“

SLAM!

“OOF!” Lin gasped involuntarily at the slam of the metal against his stomach as his body lurched forward and his arms lost their grip on the girl in them. His body tumbled over the metal thing, foot over head, and he rolled a few feet before he lost the momentum and lay flopped out on the floor, his limbs splayed out and his eyes squinting painfully up at the chandeliers.

“Shitty titties,” he muttered, gasping for air as his body gave a few pulses in the places where the impact was the worst. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, then leaned his neck as far back as he could get it to look at what he’d fallen over.

It took a few seconds for the upside down image in front of his eyes to register: it was an empty serving cart.

He felt a weight on his chest, and he looked down to see Charlie against him. His brows knit in concern as she panted against him. “You good?” he asked, voice worried.

“Dude,” she groaned, “that was…that was fucking AWESOME!”

A grin immediately broke out across Lin’s face, and he popped his arm up at the same time as his girlfriend to give her a high five. “Hell yeah!” he cackled, sitting up on his butt and watching Charlie stand. She held a hand out for him, which he took, and he made a little grunt as she tugged him up. He grinned thankfully at her, putting his hands on his hips and panting.

She reached a hand up to ruffle his hair, and he gave a whine. “Hey!” he huffed — but then, of course, he couldn’t contain his laughter, and he had to cackle again.

“Alright, what do we rate that bad boy?” Charlie asked, nodding to the cart that Lin looked at just in enough time to see being tugged away by a pissy looking waiter.

“Hmm…,” Lin said, pressing his lips together in intense thought, his brows furrowing low over his eyes.

“I think we had a solid 9.2 on that flip,” she said. “I’d say we’re pretty well on our way to the Olympics.” She wrapped an arm around him, using her free hand to gesture into the air. “Howellin The Nefarious Nose Divers: On Tour. It’ll be great, we’ll make absolute bank.”

“Hell yeah!” Lin agreed, grinning over at her, and then he gasped excitedly as an idea popped into his head. “And we can wear some fuckin’ leotards!” Another gasp as Charlie grasped his hands and started tugging him toward the dance floor. “LEOPARD PRINT!” And then another gasp. “RED LEOPARD PRINT!” He cackled happily. “HELL YEAH!”

His hell yeah! was mostly swallowed up by the densely packed bodies in the area that they were moving toward. Bougie ass place, this was, but that didn’t stop a good crowd of people from forming around the stage like it was a fuckin’ mosh pit or something.

“Come on, as much as it was fun we should actually get this party started. These people don’t know a party until Howellin walks in,” Charlie laughed as she twirled herself around with his hands.

“Hell yeah!” Lin agreed, and then he realized he was saying that a lot, which made him laugh again, luhmao.

Abruptly, Charlie paused. “Shit, before I forget…,” she started.

Lin looked at her curiously. “Missing something?” he asked as she started to rifle through her bag.

His eyes widened as she pulled out a thin strip of something that was the same color red as their outfits. She held it out for him to see: a leather bracelet with a lizard on a metal plate in the middle.

His eyes bugged out even further, and his gaze flicked between the bracelet in her hand and Charlie’s face, wondering if what he was thinking was correct.

“I, uh, I got this made,” Charlie said. “It’s kinda silly but I figured it would be a pretty cool reminder of tonight. Ya know, the first big event of us being us.”

Lin’s brows raised up to his hairline as his suspicion was confirmed. His mouth opened wide, and very slowly and very dramatically, he drew in a deep gasp. Slowly, with hands quivering from excitement as though it was an ancient artifact and he was an adventurer who had searched his life for it, Lin reached out for the bracelet.

When he grabbed it and pulled it back toward his body to get a good look at it, he let out a loud yell in a breathy exhale: “DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!” The end of the word came suddenly, and the last noise kicked his excitement into full gear. Bouncing on his heels happily, he looked at Charlie, his face exploding with deep honor. “Dudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedudedude!”

He cackled, shaking his head and fastening the bracelet on himself. He held it up toward the light. “Dudedudedudedude!” His grin was uncontrollable. He looked back at Charlie. “This is — dude! This is — duuuuude! This is the fuckin’ — this is the fuckin’ — this is the fuckin’ best thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen, dude!” He dropped his hand, fingering at the metal plate, and he accidentally flipped it over.

The revelation of Charlie’s terminator on the other side launched him into another round of dramatic gasps. “TERMINATOR?! LUHMAO! DUDE, NO FUCKIN’ WAY!” he yelled. He looked back up at Charlie excitedly. “You’re the fuckin’ best, Charlie!” He opened his arms wide, flinging them around her. He kissed the side of her head, laughing happily. “You’re the fuckin’ best, dude!” He pulled back and grinned at the bracelet again. “Dude —“ He looked back up at her. “Dude! Dude, this is fuckin’ —“ He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then pulled back to look at the bracelet again. “Duuuude!”

He stepped back, lifting his wrists up in an X and flashing the bracelet like it was a Ben 10 bracelet. He bit his lower lip, doing his best fuckboy face. “Fuckin’ seeeeexy,” he drawled, and then he cackled, dropping the posture.

He heard the drums kick up another beat, and, of course, the excitable, sugar high boy let out another dramatic gasp. “DUDE, IT’S THIS SONG!” he squealed. He grabbed Charlie’s hand to tug her even closer to the stage. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, we gotta go dance!” he cheered.

He came to a stop in front of her, and he bowed lowly like a Victorian gentleman.

Then, he stood up straight and began to twerk.




mood
nnts nnts nnts luhmao

location
the dance

outfit
kachow ; )





playing...
we'll be okay
by lindsay kay​




mentions
n/a

interactions
charlie

tags
geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 
Isabella Dupont
@bellaissima has set their status to:
here goes nothing

@bellaissima has set their outfit to:
mon beau jardin fleuri

@bellaissima has set their location to:
the ball

@bellaissima has mentioned:
Mentions

@bellaissima has interacted with:
Casey

@bellaissima has tagged:
Winona Winona
Bella should not have walked over there. She could have pretended she didn’t see Casey, could’ve made some shallow excuse to get the hell out of there and away from him. The fallout from avoiding him would have been easier than this, standing in front of him as he talked about the dress that Bella had indirectly picked for him, talked about the neglectful boyfriend that treated Casey as if he was a lapdog instead of a lover.

It hurt.

Casey agreed to dance, likely out of respect to their prior commitment before he and Chas had even become a couple. Bella searched for a way out. Stomach aches were easy to fake, she could step strangely on her high heel and pretend to twist an ankle, drop an overly expensive glass and pretend to be faint. But then he was pulling out a small clear box with a bundle of pink flowers inside, carefully pulling it out before abandoning the box on the table behind him and extending the corsage towards Bella.

He hadn’t forgotten her.

Bella couldn’t escape.

"What ya think? Do ya like it?" Casey gestured towards Bella’s wrist. "Can I ahh... ya know..."

Bella smiled and nodded slightly, carefully lifting her hand towards Casey. “Oui. Um, of course you can.”

Casey slid the corsage onto Bella’s wrist, her shaky fingers closing into a fist as the index finger on her opposite hand gently traced a soft pink petal. It matched her dress too well, fit too perfectly on her wrist, acted as a lovely reminder of everything she had been trying to forget.

“Thank you, Casey.” Bella eventually spoke, pulling herself from her own thoughts to the present moment. The music was still playing, some sort of hyped up pop song thumping through the speakers. “Come on, we should dance before all the good songs have played.”

Bella hated dancing in general but she could tell that this time would be even worse. At least it was a pop song, that meant they didn’t have to touch. They could simply dance and jump around, leaving each other once the three or four minutes was up. That was the only reason that Bella looped her arm through Casey’s and guided him towards the dance floor.

The upbeat song melted away into a slower, more rhythmic beat. Groups broke apart for a drink break while couples pulled into each other, closing gaps as arms tangled up and warm smiles pulled on blushing cheeks.

Fuck.

Bella turned to Casey, breathing deeply as she extended her hands. “You do know how to slow dance, yes?”

Without much thought, one of Bella’s arms wrapped around Casey’s waist as the other found his hand, fingers carefully intertwining together as Bella fell into the leading position. Bella kept as much space as humanly possible between her and Casey without seeming like she was entirely repulsed, her hand barely touching his and instead floating along with him.

The song never seemed to end.

It was hard not to fall into a natural rhythm, hard not to bump into him before falling in closer to him without input from her mind. Each beat brought Bella closer, heart pounding against her ribs as her hand dropped Casey’s and instead wrapped around his other side to clasp around his body. Bella couldn’t speak, the words on the tip of her tongue threatening to spill with any parting of her lips. Instead, she leaned her head forward and onto Casey’s shoulder, trying to focus on anything but the sound of his breathing and the guilty thoughts plaguing her mind.

Chas was here somewhere. Casey had a boyfriend. He was happy with Chas, why couldn’t Bella just accept that? At the end of the day, Casey was her friend and it was selfish of her to not be happy for his relationship. She was selfish, she was always selfish. Casey deserved better than that.

On the other hand, Bella was a liar. She continued to let herself be hurt, continued to deny herself time to think and process in favour of pushing down any thought or feeling towards Casey. How could Bella possibly be happy for him if she wasn’t even being honest? Friends don’t lie to each other and Bella had never been one to keep her feelings private before now. Before him. Casey wasn’t so special that she needed to do this to herself. So what if she had feelings for him? They were friends, Casey wouldn’t mind.

Bella sighed, pulling herself off of Casey’s shoulder to look up at him. Bella simply looked at him for a moment, the faintest smile appearing as her eyes looked him over.

He had to know.

“Casey…” Bella’s voice trailed off as she pulled away even more, her arms barely around Casey anymore as she forced a breath into her lungs. “I do not want to keep this from you anymore, but I also do not want you to be in a bad situation. You are with Chas and you are happy, really that is all that matters. I know I am too late but…”

Bella’s words stopped again, the point stuck in her dry mouth. Another breath, a deep swallow. She could do this.

“Ever since we started working on music together, things just feel different. I never expected to care about you as much as I do.” Bella managed slowly, forcing herself to look back up into Casey’s eyes. “You are a good friend to me. Too good, even. But that is not what I feel. I like you more than that. More than friends.” Her heart gave a heavy thump, her mind pleading for Casey to say something, anything, to fill the silence. “I have feelings for you, Casey.”

º º code by ditto º º
 






MICHAEL K. REID​


The image of Gen and that fuckhead together wouldn’t fucking leave Mike’s mind. Them, together, the bitch and the asshole. What a great fucking pair. No wonder they looked so fucking hot together, huh? The worst of the fucking worst, the two from the depths of fucking hell themselves.

His heart fucking ached.

All that Mike could feel was fury. Nothing but anger, anger, anger.

Landon was so fucking dead. Landon was so fucking dead.

Gen and Landon, together. They were fucking together.

Other images played through his mind: them kissing, them hugging, them sharing fucking moments like he’d had with…

It made him fucking sick.

God, Landon was so fucking dead.

Memories played over in his head as he gripped the sink and stared into his reflection. Memories, memories, fucking memories. Memories he’d spent long nights trying to forget. Memories that took days getting blackout drunk in his bathtub to even begin to shove into the back of his fucking head. He clenched his teeth, his grip tightening on the sink even past the point that it hurt. His whole arm was in fucking pain.

The memories were all fucking coming back to him, all flooding his senses. He was watching his gaze turn angrier and angrier, feeling the fire grow and grow in his chest, feeling it singing his fucking throat.

He was going to explode — he was going to fucking explode.

Landon.

Is.

Fucking.

Dead.

Mike heard a click, and he turned his eyes from his reflection to figure going through the door.

Seeing Landon again made everything in him lurch. It took all of his willpower not to charge him right fucking there, but somehow, even through the haze of liquor, he was able to keep himself anchored at his spot at the last sink. He looked back into his eyes’ reflection.

There was another click, a softer, higher-pitched one. “Don’t want anyone walking in on you getting fucking murdered?” Mike asked in a scoff, shifting his shoulders and looking at Landon’s reflection as it came into view in the long mirror. Even his reflection made him fucking burn, but less than seeing him physically.

Landon smirked. God, Mike wanted to punch that fucking smug smirk right off of Landon’s face right now — he didn’t give a single fuck what the guy had to fucking say. Still, something, for some goddamn fucking reason, wasn’t allowing him to do that right now. Wait for it, Mike. Just fucking wait for it.

“What is it this time, Mikey?” Mike’s nickname made his muscles tense even further; his arm cried out painfully. Landon slung his jacket over a stall door and held up a hand, like that would fucking stop Mike from talking if he really fucking wanted to. “Let me guess…” His mouth formed an o, as if he’d had some kind of revelation. “I’m the scum of the earth. I don’t deserve to exist. I’m nothing. I have the brain of a fucking goldfish.” And the fucking face of one. “I’m an irrelevant piece of trash and I have no business being alive.” He rolled his eyes and faked a yawn. “This is all getting pretty old, isn’t it?”

Mike turned around, pushing off of the sink. He looked at Landon again, not just his fucking expression, and he felt the burning anger seeping even deeper into him than before. “It’s been fucking old since the first fucking time it happened, yeah,” Mike said shortly. “I’ve been fucking sick of this shit happening since the very fucking start.”

Landon’s hand rolled along the disgusting fucking counter as he made his way toward him. “I’ve been racking my brain. Trying to figure it out. Trying to figure out what your fucking problem is and why every time I’m around you, you turn into an angry leprechaun who thinks I stole his pot of gold.”

“You’re really not fucking clever,” Mike said as Landon stopped in front of him. “Trying to make a fucking joke at a time like this. You want those to be your last fucking words, really?” Landon’s smug fucking smirk came back onto his face, and Mike clenched his fists at his side. It took every single ounce of him not to knock in his fucking teeth. “You’re fucking smirking like you’ve got anything fucking important to say when I know that’s fucking bullshit. What, are you going to give me your fucking oh so insightful view of this event? The ESPN fucking rundown, jackass?”

“You’re jealous.”

The words stopped him in his tracks for a moment, just fucking stunned him. Confusedly, he looked at Landon, dumbfounded, his eyes wide, his mouth ajar but silent, his muscles intending slightly.

Animals, when they saw their reflections, couldn’t recognize it as themselves, and fuck, maybe this was something like that.

“It was probably my money at first…seeing as you have none,” Landon said. “Then my talent and success…still nothing there for you. And now…well…I got the girl and you’re out here being the president of HA’s Babysitters Club. It’s pathetic.”

A wave of nausea rocked him, and he looked away from Landon for a moment as a mix of wild emotion overtook him.

“You are pathetic,” Landon said.

Suddenly, once again, Mike’s emotions took form: a bolt of anger, blooming right from his chest, mixing with bile and pain to form a flame that burned worse than fire ever fucking could.

And there was something else there, too. Something else that maybe no one could fucking read but that Mike could fucking feel. Something that — something that he didn’t want to know about, something that he didn’t want to fucking admit, but something that he couldn’t fucking push away this time.

Fear.

Fear, not because he was scared of Landon. Not because he was scared of this situation. He was fully fucking ready to murder Landon, to rip the bastard limb from fucking limb and to take his medal afterward.

Fear because Landon…Landon fucking knew.

“That’s what it is, right, Mikey?” Landon took a step closer. Mike’s breathing was growing heavier, more and more uncontrollable as the emotions inside him grew and grew and fucking grew. His shoulders were heaving; he couldn’t look at Landon. “You’re jealous.” The words were a slap to his fucking face. “Can’t stand to see me happy.” Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. “So hellbent on trying to ruin everything good in my life.”

No. No. No. No. No.

Mike grit his teeth.

“No,” he muttered. Fuck no, no, no, no, no.

“Come on, Michael.” Fuck, he hated his voice. Fuck, fuck. “Admit it.”

Mike lifted his eyes to Landon’s, his shoulders heaving with breaths. When he saw his face and looked into his eyes, every muscle in Mike’s body tensed again, and he clenched his fists so tight that it fucking hurt again.

“I promise I'll keep it just between us,” said the bastard, and he winked.

Mike couldn’t say anything for a few moments. Even though he was trembling and his body was pushing him forward, wanting him to slam his fist into Landon’s fucking face and get this shit over with, something just wouldn’t let him.

He broke eye contact, his jaw clenching tighter. He was quiet for a few moments, then: “Fucking jealous, huh?” he repeated, and he chuckled gruffly. He lifted his eyes up to Landon, a small smirk on his own face. “Why the fuck would I be jealous, huh?”

He took a step closer to Landon. They couldn’t’ve been more than a foot away from one another. “Your fucking money? I’m not fucking shallow. I’ve lived fucking broke my whole life. Try again,” he said. “Your fucking talent? Yeah, because shitty acting’s a talent now, huh? Success? Fucking nepotism, I’ve got no fucking interest in that.” He barked a laugh. “At first — yeah, like it would’ve been those things at first, Landon. When you fucking came here as an annoying ass freshman with a rich fucking mommy and daddy and not a single fucking problem in the world, the only thing I thought of you was that, well, you were really fucking annoying.”

It was a painful fucking memory — thinking back on his ex best friend like that, on how things used to be. It made him scoff again, and he looked away from Landon. “Met you through your sister, thought I’d become friends with you because she was fucking hot and shit. Called you up to drink, hang out. You call that fucking jealous?” He looked up at Landon, the anger returning to his voice and his expression. “You call that fucking jealous, huh? There was no fucking jealousy involved.”

He grit his teeth, looking straight into Landon’s eyes. “And when things went to fucking far, was there any fucking jealousy in that, huh?! And when things kept going that way, was there any fucking jealousy in that?! When we were fucking happy, you think I was jealous?! When shit was going fucking great for that whole fucking time, you think there was a single fucking ounce of jealousy in me?!”

He forced a bark of a laugh, reaching up for Landon’s face, a hateful smirk on his face. “When I started to say I fucking hated you, I remember how fucking crushed you looked. When you came back, that fucking look you gave me after so long on Halloween — you remember that? How you were holding back so fucking much?”

He tugged Landon downward, his smirk growing more prideful. “And when you kissed me in the bathroom…heh…don’t you think you were the jealous one?” He let out another chuckle. “After all, I know you fucking want me — and you know I fucking hate you.” He lowered his voice. “God, that has to fucking hurt, doesn’t it, babe?”

He studied his lips, anger boiling in his chest. His face grew angrier, and he felt it rear in his chest. He scoffed, looking into Landon’s eyes. “I really, really, really fucking hate you,” he said.

But somehow — for some fucking reason — he found himself pulling Landon further down and connecting their lips.

But I guess I hate me too right now, babe, so fuck it.




mood
tipsy and pissed

location
the ball

outfit
i'm fucking sexy.





playing...
drunk face
by machine gun kelly​




mentions
gen & evie

interactions
landon

tags
gh0stwriter gh0stwriter


º º code by ditto º º
 
Genevieve Johannes
@NextGen has set their status to:
fucking rot

@NextGen has set their outfit to:
hotter than your fucking dick appointment, asshole

@NextGen has set their location to:
outside the ball

@NextGen has mentioned:
Eli, Ash, Cap, Evie, Mike

@NextGen has interacted with:
Landon, Liv

@NextGen has tagged:
gh0stwriter gh0stwriter Soap Soap
“I’m so sorry, baby, but Donna is freaking out about this audition on Monday. Apparently they’ve made some last minute changes.”

Gen’s heart sank before the logic could kick in. A work call during a dance? Who the hell took calls during the dance?

“I have to make a quick call. Ten minutes.”

Right. Ten minutes.

Gen didn’t have time to confirm before Landon was brushing his lips against her and disappearing into the crowd, leaving her by herself amidst the crowd of loving couples wrapped up in each other in the middle of a song.

That should have been them.

No, everything was fine. Sure, she was a little pissed that Landon had just disappeared to take a fucking work call during a slow dance but there had to be a reason, Landon wouldn’t just leave her. Maybe he was also stressed about the job, that had to be it. He had felt different in the past week or so, definitely more tense and maybe this audition was why. Clearly there was no reason to worry, no need to jump to conclusions.

“Ten minutes.” Gen spoke to herself, looking around at the faces of her peers that had begun to blur together. “I can wait ten minutes.”

But ten minutes came and went.​

A group of girls from the plastics decided to ask her to dance. Landon still wasn’t back so Gen decided to oblige, being led to the dance floor by drunk models that were acting like Genevieve was their fucking goddess. Normally, she would have loved it, flourished in the attention. But they weren’t him.

Twenty minutes.​

One dance turned into two, then three, then four. Gen tired of dancing, small talk with no start or end growing dull. She excused herself politely, nodding to the girls as she abandoned them and found herself a table. It had been way longer than ten minutes, where was he? Gen decided to ask just that and sent Landon a text. There was no reply.

Thirty.​

Gen’s hands were shaking as she pressed the phone to her ear for the tenth time, the buzz of an outgoing call echoing around inside of her head. Pick up, pick up, please pick up, I’m begging you just pick up. The call cut in and Gen sat upright in her chair.

“This is Landon Sinclaire. Please leave a message.”

The call wasn’t getting dropped, the line wasn’t busy. It was ringing through as normal. Landon was ignoring her call.

Forty.​

Gen remained at the table, trying desperately to reach Landon. But the call always led to a voicemail, the text always left on delivered. This wasn’t a mistake, this wasn’t a call gone long.

An hour.​

She couldn’t wait around anymore. What if something was wrong? What if something had happened and Landon couldn’t answer. She had to look for him. Down the hallways she went, calling out for him over the thump of the music, peeking into rooms with unlocked doors. Another call, another text, another checked room until the place had been flipped over and turned out. Landon was nowhere to be found.

Gen was alone.

She had been abandoned.

She was fucking over it.

Fuck those slow songs that they should have been dancing to together. Fuck the happy couples all wrapped up in each other, laughing along at private jokes whispered in ears and cheeks rouging with playful touches. Fuck the shitty music that never seemed to cease. Fuck the people that tried to get her to dance, fuck the people that waltzed up to her table and tried to get her to engage in some stupid fucking chatter when her eyes were glazed over with held back tears.

Fuck them.

Fuck it.

Fuck Landon.

Gen needed to get out of there. Her lungs were refusing to inflate, her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, the held back tears began to flow down her cheeks. For some reason, she tried to call Landon again as she got up from the table, barging towards the back door. No answer.

“Fuck… fuck him.” Gen whispered to herself, jaw tensing as the tears began to freely flow down her cheeks.

Two girls looked in her direction. Gen caught their eyes. They turned away and walked off into the ball.

Gen threw open the back door, the sting of fresh air burning her chest as she gulped in air. Her chest was as empty as the hollow pit of her stomach, pain dripping through her veins like venom.

After everything they had gone through together, after all the fucking drama and the lost loved ones and the promises to be there for each other, Landon had up and abandoned her. No calls, no texts, not even an acknowledgement of her presence. Gen needed him and he was nowhere to be found.

What was so good that she deserved to be abandoned?

What was so fucking wrong with her that somehow Gen wasn’t enough?

Why was she never good enough?

“Fucking asshole. I can’t believe him.” Gen mumbled to herself through her tears, her legs carrying her off into the night, no particular destination in mind. She just needed to go, to be away from him, to leave the whole goddamn night behind.

Reaching into her bag, Gen grabbed the flask of gin, twisted off the top, and chugged the contents. One shot, two shots, three shots, four shots, five shots. On and on she drank until the supply ran dry. Then, the flask was tossed into the bushes along with her phone and the last of her dignity.

She didn’t need him.

She didn’t need anyone.

At the end of the day, Gen had no one. Not Eli, not Ash, not Cap, not Evie, not Landon, not Mike, not Liv. Every single person Gen found herself loving would leave her eventually, leaving her alone and sitting down in the middle of a cracked sidewalk in an expensive gown while the gin ravaged her system and the silent sobs shook her body.

Fuck him. This wasn’t an accident. He wasn’t on any fucking call, her calls were going through. Instead, Landon was ignoring her, for what Gen had no fucking idea.

Why, why, why, why, why?

Gen lost track of time as she sat there on the sidewalk. At some point, she kicked her heels off and whipped them into the road. If Ash had never found the fucking things, Gen wouldn’t have come to the fucking ball in the first place. She could be at home and happy, spending time with her parents instead of sobbing heartbroken by herself on the pavement.

She needed her phone to call a cab. Into the bushes Gen went, the gin now coursing through her body and making the world swim around her as she stumbled around for the device. Eventually she found it. The cab was called, giving her a fifteen minute estimate, and Gen chucked her phone back into the bushes again.

Fuck it, Gen was gone.

The music picked up inside the building again.

No, she wasn’t gone. She was going to go find Landon and fucking destroy him.

“Fucking leaving me. That’s fucking hilarious.” Gen murmured as she stomped barefoot back towards the building, the ground swaying beneath her feet as each word slurred more and more. “For what? Probably some fuckin’ bullshit. ‘Work call’ my fucking left tit. Goddamn liar. Fuck him. I don’t even fucking need him.” Gen paused, dramatically throwing up two middle fingers. “FUCK YOU, SINCLAIRE! FUCK YOU SOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING MUCH! I don’t fucking NEED YOU, asshole, you hear that! I don’t fucking need you! I don’t need anyone! I don’t need you. I don’t need…”

A pained sob fell from her lips. Gen couldn’t go back in there. Fuck, she was pitiful, screaming at nothing but air, saying the words long trapped in her mind. She needed them, every fucking person she had lost, but it was never enough. Gen wiped her eyes though the tears refused to stop. She needed to wait for her cab.

Turning towards the street, Gen took a few wobbly steps forwards before a force knocked her completely still.

Liv.

Fucking Liv.

She was sitting on the steps not too far away from Gen, her frame draped in emerald green.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

Gen’s feet reacted before her mind could catch up, stumbling over to Liv before falling down onto the stairs beside her. Gen couldn't look Liv in the eyes. Instead, she stared out into the parking lot.

“Hey.” Gen managed through her slowing tears.

This was a horrible fucking idea.

Two wrongs never made a right.

Liv was never right for Gen.

Gen was never right for Liv.

Run. Run. Run. Run.

Don't do this.​

“You look beautiful tonight.”

º º code by ditto º º
 
"Quote will eventually go here..."
Camille Clairmont
@DancingQueen has set status:
"I'm not nervous. Who said I was nervous? I'm so not."

@DancingQueen has set outfit to:
One-of-a-kind-gown.

@DancingQueen interacted with:
Eli

@DancingQueen has tagged:
geminiy geminiy
How was he so...charming? Was it natural? It had to be, right? He's a Johannes after all and everyone knows Gen is a goddess in human form. So, he definitely had to inherit the "magic". Why didn't Camille get any of that from Chanel or...yeah, Chanel?

Her sister was all smooth and enticing, and classy. Plus she had a certain je ne sais quoi. Like people were automatically drawn to her. Cami wasn't like that when it came to crushes. She didn't know how to be all Casanova or whatever. Usually she just made a fool of herself or crashed and burned because she pretended not to be crushing to avoid embarrassment only to still be, well, embarrassed.

About twenty minutes later and they were arriving at their destination, the name across the building was one that she recognized almost instantly. Madam Bisset. She listened as Eli explained that the designs inside were all gonna go to waste due to a canceled photoshoot or something so he'd brought her here to pick a dress. A stunning, one-of-a-kind, no one else would ever be able to get their hands on dress.

Great. Here Cami had been fumbling around with this beautiful bouquet, all awe-struck by it as if she'd never seen real flowers before in her life while Eli was out here setting up a whole private fitting and last minute too! Cami was used to these kinda things, okay?

Growing up she'd dined in the fanciest restaurants and had the biggest parties. There had been plenty of times where spa days and retail therapy were brought straight to them and movie theaters were rented out just because. This wasn't all new or anything and yet her eyes lit up as the elevator doors opened to reveal racks of breathtaking gowns all for her to try on.

"Wow," she breathed, her fingers sliding across one of the metal racks as she looked at the dresses hanging carefully along with it. One stood out and she made a mental note to go back to it later. Her head shot up when Eli's voice rang out, her eyes landing on him as he emerged from the office.

The velvet was perfect. It was hot actually, yet still somehow very gentlemanly. Classy. He looked good. Well, the suit looked good...on him. Ahem. Yeah.

"Are you kidding me?" Cami started as he walked towards her, popping his collar as if to be a badass. "You're not even giving these other guys a chance. Headlines will read: best suit of the year worn by Hollywood Arts very own..." she made a big dramatic pause before motioning to him. "Elias Johannes," she finished, adding a wink for good measure.

Their laughs filled the air, only to be replaced by pop music as he hit play on a nearby stereo. "You wanna dance with me?" she pretended to look around as if there was someone else in the room. "Well, I'm just honored," she joked, slipping her hands into his and allowing herself to be pulled into the beat.

So maybe she had ditched Casey's interview and lied to Chanel about being sick but come on. This was waaaay more fun. Could you really blame her?

------

Camille glanced down at her phone to check the time. She still had ten minutes before Eli was supposed to arrive and she desperately needed something to do with the time besides freak out about how she was going on a DATE and how she still wasn't sure if he was crushing like she was....uh, anyway.

She really wished Chanel was still home. Even though they weren't going together anymore that didn't have to mean they couldn't get dressed together and gossip and stuff, right? Wrong. Chanel hadn't even mentioned them hanging out together before the dance and so she didn't bring it up either. She just kinda assumed. By the time she had gotten home from her hair appointment, Nellie was already gone.

Not that it mattered Cami couldn't ask her for advice about this. She was still all grrrr and she didn't seem to be fan of Eli. Which Cami still totally didn't get. And she'd have gone to Mik next but she was doing who knows what and then there was Casey.

Enough said.

DIIIIIIIIIING DOOOOOOOONG.

Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't freak out.

As the big, french doors opened to reveal Elias, a smile broke out across Cami's face, and the nerves that were about to take over suddenly disappeared. Even though Cami had seen his suit on before, it didn't compare to now with the whole sha-bang. It was no surprise that he cleaned up nice but wow...

"You look...amazing," she complimented him, the bright smile still painted on her lips. "I mean, seriously, people aren't gonna be able to take their eyes off of you between this and those killer dance moves you promised," she joked. How did she feel so at ease? She had no clue but she was gonna enjoy it, chances are the nerves would make another appearance at some point.


º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: Ball time woo!

OUTFIT: See images

LOCATION: HA Ball
basics
MENTIONS:
geminiy geminiy

INT:
Winona Winona



--------don't type anything after this comment--------



[/COMMENT]
tags
TL;DR Newt and Ash dance. Newt admits his feelings
tl;dr
Newt
You know I'm stupid for you

The night of Winter Ball had finally arrived and it was already off to a weird start. Newt had totally expected to go alone and just vibe there but one of his closest friends had asked him to accompany her; one Ash West. Honestly he was entirely shocked she didn't have a date already. As he had said when he first met her, she was pretty. She was also funny, and fun, and sweet, and an all round good friend. People were always spreading rumors about her and some new guy, one of them was bound to be true right? It truly baffled Newt as to how the blonde had managed to evade being asked or asking someone to ball, but hey everyone else's loss was his gain right? Spending a night with a bestie while you both looked hot? Sounded like a great time to Newt. Maybe they could wingman for each other too, though Newt was for sure better at that than she was.

Newt had been so focused on him and his date that he had entirely forgotten that Lulu was planning on going to Ball too. This would have been a super proud big brother moment for him if she was going alone. He knew seeing her all dressed up would bring a tear to his eye, the problem was that she was in fact not going alone. Their mother had arranged a date with one of her coworkers kids for some unknown reason. Sure she was almost sixteen but she was still a kid! Lulu didn't need to enter the world of dating just yet! Or ever really. In fact ever was ideal. Newt wanted the very best and all the happiness in the world for his baby sister but the chance of her getting hurt while dating was far too high. If he could at all help it, Newt would never let Lulu be hurt, and she couldn't get broken hearted if she never dated. That was his plan and he thought it was pretty sound. Evidently his mother didn't agree. The worst part was no one even told him until tonight! Now there was no way for him to screen this mystery date and make sure he wasn't a jerk, which probably meant he was. Why else would they hide this info from him? It's not like Newt would've overreacted to it.

Lulu had requested that Gen help her with her makeup and since Newt had to go to the Johannes residence anyway to pick up Ash, he drove Lulu too. His knuckles were white, wrapped tight around the steering wheel, a continual angry frown resting on his face. He didn't say much of anything worried he would lash out at his sister for something she didn't really do. Granted she didn't tell him sooner either, but it wasn't like she set it up. Newt had already made plans with Hunter and Casey to beat up this guy if he hurt Lulu and that was good enough for now.

When the siblings arrived at their destination the younger sister was immediately whisked away to be turned into a beautiful fairy queen or whatever it was Gen was planning on doing and Newt went to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Since Ash was his date she had 'helped him get the right tux' which really meant she told him no like fifty times before finally agreeing to something he picked. It was black on black on black and Newt had to admit he looked sharp. He wasn't used to dressing fancy but if he looked this good doing so maybe he could get used to it. His mismatched eyes scanned himself over in the mirror while Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top played in his mind. "One hundred and twenty five bpm. Give or take." he whispered to himself as he inspected his newest hair color and piercing. In a fit of impulsivity he had decided that his left ear needed an industrial and his right needed a small helix ring piercing. It hurt like hell and he wasn't entirely sure he'd keep them but for right now he thought they looked sick and helped to complete the look. Ash wouldn't let him go crazy with his suit but she said nothing about accessories, so he was loaded up with them; mostly simple silver colored things so as to keep the most color centered at his hair, which was now a lilac color. He had a little bag in his inner jacket pocket in case he got tired of any of the jewelry he was wearing, and a pair of sunglasses hanging from his chest pocket in place of a pocket square. He hoped people wouldn't look too closely to his accessories because none of it was real or even very expensive. People in LA were like money bloodhounds, they could smell a poor person a mile away, he just hoped the rich and snooty scent that would be at the ball was enough to mask his own poor person aura.

Newt left the bathroom, now fully dressed and ready to go as Gen was putting on the finishing touches to Ash and Lulu's makeup. He leaned in the doorframe as his date was spun around in her chair so he could see her. He let out a wolf whistle followed by his signature goofy grin as a response to the question of what he thought. Just as he had thought, when Corey saw his sister he began to choke up some. He beamed a smile to the two girls "Breathtaking, both of you. Gen really knows what she's doing." The doorbell had rung and Newt assumed that it was Lulu's date and began making a move towards the door. "No. You go wait somewhere else or I'll never forgive you." Lulu whispered to him as she pushed past him to go get dressed.

Once everyone had gotten ready and Lulu had been sent off with her date, despite Newt's hatred of the idea, Gen took dozens of pictures of everyone. Already Newt was enjoying himself and they weren't even at ball yet. Being around people he liked was energizing enough by itself, but add on the fact that he felt like he looked great and he was goofing around in the pictures (for the most part, Gen would have killed him if he didn't take at least one serious photo) and he was having a blast. As Gen's date arrived she turned to Newt to give him...advice for his own safety. It was no secret that Gen could be a very scary woman and she was certainly able to put the fear of God into Newt. She playfully laughed off her threat as a joke, and the lilac haired teen did his best to also laugh but it was a nervous laughter because deep down he knew it wasn't entirely a joke. Of course he had no intention of treating Ash as anything other than a queen though. Mrs. Newton raised her son to always do his best to be a perfect gentleman. He might sometimes bend the definition of gentleman, but he remained as gentlemanly as possible within his chaotic nature. Ash then turned to Newt and asked if he was ready to go. He took her in fully for the first time since before he was distracted with the entertainment of taking pictures. Her dress was absolutely gorgeous and she looked totally hot. Maybe he was biased because of his friendship with her be she could easily be one of the prettiest girls going to ball. Finally after a round of goodbyes and fingerguns the pair headed off to Hollywood Art's illustrious Winter Ball.

~

The actual ball location was just as opulent as Newt had expected. He was still awestruck with how insanely rich everyone seemed to be here and was still somehow always surprised when that wealth was flaunted. He and Ash were locked arm in arm, as any pair should at a ball, as they took in the scenery. For the first time tonight Corey was beginning to feel nervous. Earlier he had had messages with his friends Hunter and Casey who seemed to know a lot about the ins and outs of HA, and both of the other boys had told him that Ash likely had feelings for Newt. Casey said he was an expert on girls and Hunter said he knew Ash well enough to be considered an expert on her. Surely if they both came to the same conclusion about her there had to be some merit in what they were saying, right? Newt definitely had to admit that their points made some sense. Ash inviting him, a guy, to go dress shopping with her for ball then asking him to said ball? Did platonic friends really do that? There was a lot that added up to make it seem like maybe she had a crush on the Newton boy, but he simply didn't feel the same way. Ash was his good friend and nothing more. He didn't want to hurt her feelings though so he needed to think of a way to let her down easy.

Suddenly there were words being directed at him, pulling Newt from his thoughts. He looked down to his small blonde friend as she thanked him for being her date. His face scrunched up in confusion. That didn't feel like something that he needed to be thanked for. He'd never pass up the chance to spend time with friends, especially in a party setting. Sure it was the most fancy party he'd ever been to, but he couldn't imagine it would remain that way for long. After all, they were all teenagers. It was a guarantee that there would be all sorts of debauchery by the end of the night. "Of course- " his words were cut off as she leaned up and kissed his cheek. His face reddened some and he looked around the room to hide it. That sealed it for him, she definitely had a crush on him. Hopefully it was only a little one.

As the blonde smoothed out Newt's jacket she discovered the hidden stash he had brought. Her hands clasped a small bag of gummies and confusion was clearly written on her face. The lilac haired boy offered her a sheepish smile that was quickly wiped away by her next comment. A laugh tumbled from his lips "Believe it or not no." his hand moved to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. "They're just regular gummies that I uhh... I had trouble opening the bag...you want one?" Newt took a handful of the gummies from the bag and popped them in his mouth, keeping them in his cheek so he could talk without launching one into her face. "See? Now if I'm lying about them being edibles I'm about to be seriously messed up and ruin my night. Insurance." he tapped his temple at the word insurance as if to indicate how smart of an idea it was. "Go ahead, they're assorted tropical."

~

After the a while the pair had settled in to the ball. Both had gotten drinks, Newt of course getting them for Ash as he should have, and they stood to the side chatting. Newt's head went on a swivel as a song he liked began to play, gaze focusing on the dance floor. Now as far as dancing went, Corey considered himself decent. Certainly not a professional like Eli or anyone else that went to HA, but he knew how to throw down at a party. This wasn't exactly the same type of scene though so he wasn't sure how well his moves would be received. After all, the people watching him dance were typically already either drunk, high, or both, and the night was still young. His gaze shifted to his date and a hopeful look rose onto his face. Ash wasn't one to dance, in fact she was pretty terrible at it. Newt loved her to death but the girl could not dance and a lot of people knew it. He didn't want her to feel self conscious but he did really want to dance. "Hey Ash...let's go dance." before she could protest he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dance floor. "Trust me." he said over his shoulder as he nearly dragged her.

Newt wanted Ash to have a good time. He thought dancing and letting loose would achieve that. He knew she didn't want people to watch her dance badly. So, logically, Newt needed to think of a distraction. What better way to distract from bad dancing, then worse dancing? He didn't really like the idea he was creating but the Newton boy knew what he had to do. To make the blonde feel comfortable on the floor, he'd have to draw all the attention to himself by being an idiot. He hated being the center of attention, but he'd do it for the sake of a friend's good time. At least he was good at making a fool of himself.

Lilac hair and ridiculous dancing was probably quite the spectacle, but multicolored eyes remained focused on Newt's partner, a wide grin resting on his face. "This is way more fun than standing around right?" He asked as his arms just kind of wiggled straight out and his knees clacked together. His ears felt incredibly hot from embarrassment but he kept going until it looked like she was having fun.

The pair danced for a while until a slow song came on and Newt bowed deeply before holding his hand out to take Ash's. While other couples would do that to be sweet and cute he was just doing it to be a dork. The more she laughed and had fun, the more he did as well. Slow dancing was far easier and less embarrassing for both parties involved and it gave them a chance to talk while not just standing around, something that Newt's ADHD brain loved. After a few moments of silence Newt finally worked up the courage to speak. All night in the back of his mind he'd been thinking about this crush situation and he'd come to realize two things. One; why he couldn't even entertain the idea of dating Ash. It was because he had feelings for someone else. As much as he hated to admit it, he did in fact have a crush. The other thing he realized was exactly how to let her down without being a jerk. Maybe. He wasn't sure, but it felt like a good way to do it. His gaze met hers. "I think you were right....I think I have feelings for Mikaela..."
code by valen t.
 
Last edited:
"Focus on me, I'm about to blow them all away"
Stella Bailey
@Steller.Bae has set their status to:
It's the greatest time of year

@Steller.Bae has set their outfit to:
Winter wonder

@Steller.Bae has set their location to:
Winter Ball

@Steller.Bae has mentioned:
Beth, Lin, Landon,

@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Zeph ( Winona Winona ) Jordan ( @Melanin-Gxdess )
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Stella has always envisioned herself as a thing of beauty and tonight was absolutely no different. She always dressed knowing eyes could possibly be on her, but on nights like tonight where she KNEW they would be? well she had to show out just a bit more then usual. She loved her dress, and even more then that she loved that Zeph dressed up as well. She knew it wasn't his favorite thing to do, so she appreciated it immensely that he tried for her.

Especially remembering how he dressed up last year. Not a diss...just an observation.

She arrived at the ball on Zeph's arm and she couldn't be more excited. She couldn't deny they looked damn good together. Quite the photogenic pair when he let her take pictures of them. Stella was always snapping pictures of them together even though she only posted a couple so far as to not seem like "that gf" or too clingy. She also knew the importance of social media representation of over doing it with the romance stuff wasn't a good look either.

Last year hadn't been so great for her since the ball came shortly after being dumped, but this year she was 100% convinced she'd bounced back. She was flourishing in her career, and her love life for once. It finally felt like with Zeph she'd found that balance she'd so desperately been wanting this whole time. She supposed dating your Best friend will do that. She wondered why she never thought of it before?

Oh that's right the crippling fear of fucking up a good thing. Good thing that didn't wind up happening right?

She'd been worried at first when they started to date how Zeph would handle the new limelight on him from being with her. She wasn't oblivious to the fact that it would change some things for him, nor was she oblivious to the fact that her own pressure might be applied to him as well. Even if she didn't mean for it to be that was it just came naturally with her personality.

Stella held herself to a high standard due to her upbringing and the pressure that came from her parents and later fame, so naturally she'd apply that pressure to those around her too. She tended to only keep those close who proved they could handle it, but it was different handling it as just her friend verses her boyfriend. Long story short in her eyes with the exception of the couple fiascos with Lin he'd been doing wonderfully.

They posed for some pictures as usual but for the first time in a while Stella didn't really want to stick around for pictures. She wanted to get inside and start having fun. The semester was ending and she finally was feeling like she could breathe again. She wanted to relax and enjoy an evening with her amazingly sweet boyfriend. They danced and laughed just enjoying their time together like always. It came so naturally for them that she honestly could've spent the entire night with him, but she'd told a few friends that she'd talk with them of course as well. She wanted to talk with Landon (whom she was sure Zeph still didn't like), and Beth (who was here with Mike she she definitely didn't wanna chance Zeph being around for that.), and honestly her roommate too if she got the chance.

She with a small kiss on the cheek they went their separate ways for a bit so he could talk to his friends too. She would've loved to hog him the whole night, but she knew he should be allowed to hang with his other friends.

That's when her eyes landed on another familiar face. One she hadn't thought would be here. She knew him because well they were both sophomores and in the same department. It wasn't super big and there were very few sophomores she bothered to actually learn who they were. They got along well when around one another, so she figured she'd stop and say hi.

She walked up with a grin on her lips, "Hey stranger, Where've you been?" She asked curiously. She knew she'd been busy lately with filming, but it felt like it'd been forever since she'd last even seen him.
º º code by ditto º º
 






Casey Clairmont


Bella looped her arm through is, and there was kind of a little awkward grin on his face. Well not real awkward, but kinda like... yeah, no, it was a bit awkward. What could he say? Even though he was happy with his cool boyfriend Chas, and he didn't have any real feeling feelings for Bella, there was still a little part of him that kinda felt all ohheckagirlistouchingme inside his head, and it kind of presented itself in the awkward smile on his face.

Yeah, he was a real charmer.

The song that was playing made Casey's blood pump in his veins, and he could feel it. He'd already started bouncing a bit on his feet, his head kind of a bumpy bopping from side to side as he walked with her onto the dance floor... and then the song came to an end as they came to a stop, and Casey was all ready to go badum bum bum bum with his hips 'cause he was a real good dancer, when the song melted into a slower one.

His smile faltered for a moment as he caught couples all 'round them gathering, pulling each other close and stuff, and he briefly went "oh heck, where's my boyfriend?" but he was out here with Bella. She extended her hands, asking if he could slow dance, and he blinked down at her.

Umm.

No, no he did not, but he was real sure he could do it.

Casey kind of just let out an awkward little laugh, and then Bella took the lead, and she kinda put her hand on his hip, and he'd seen enough movies to know where his hand went... so he placed it on her shoulder, and then they kinda just ya know... started swaying to the beat of the music.

He kinda liked the feeling of her fingers with his, though.

As the song continued on, their bodies kinda went from a safe distance away -- or as some people would say, with plenty of room for Jesus -- until they were closer, and closer, and closer, and--

Oop.

She dropped his hand, her arms wrapping around his waist, and for a moment, Casey didn't really know what to do. He'd never danced with a girl, he was really no good with any kind of girls or boys or dating in general, and he kinda had a boyfriend -- even if it wasn't really real -- but he wasn't real sure how to ah...

How to...

Do...

What do.

But per Casey usual, he chose to not think with his head, instead kinda letting his arms fall down off of Bella's shoulders so he was kinda holding her, and he kept swaying to the song. 'Course, he was real worried that the badumbadumbadum of his nervous wreck of a heart might bother her, or maybe he was actually real sweaty and real stinky now 'cause he'd been dancing so hard with Chas, and what if the paparazzi or something caught a phot and then there was big drama, or Chas saw and he got all grr why you doing that or...

He closed his eyes, instead kinda just losing himself in the moment.

He liked this. He really liked this.

Public school was flipping awesome.

Bella started shifting in his arms, and Casey's eyes opened back up, blinking down at her.

“Casey…” Bella was saying as she pulled away from him. “I do not want to keep this from you anymore, but I also do not want you to be in a bad situation. You are with Chas and you are happy, really that is all that matters. I know I am too late but…”

His head tilted to the side in a bit of confusion, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Ever since we started working on music together, things just feel different. I never expected to care about you as much as I do.” Her gaze met his. “You are a good friend to me. Too good, even. But that is not what I feel. I like you more than that. More than friends.”

Huh?

“I have feelings for you, Casey.”

His mouth felt dry, his head kinda swimming as he stopped dancing. His hands had dropped down and kinda were resting on Bella's shoulders as he stared at her.

His breath was catching real bad in his throat.

She...

What?

The stupid part of Casey had kinda skipped over all those facts, and was real ready to write this off as her just talking about real good friend feelings. Girls didn't really like Casey -- no one really like liked Casey, and he was fine with that, 'cause he understood why. He was weird. The only ones that really liked him were his screaming fans that would throw their bras at him sometimes when he was on stage, but they didn't really count.

He blinked at her again.

The silence was stretching out, and Casey knew he really needed to talk, but words were kinda failing to find the boy who typically had far too much to say.

"Huh?"

Well, that wasn't real helpful.

"Ahh..."

Speak.

An uncomfortable chuckle came out instead.

Part of him was wondering if she was doing this for publicity -- it was normal with the Clairmonts really (after all, that's how he'd gotten a boyfriend in the first place). But there was something about the way that she was looking up at him that made him know she wasn't kidding and she wasn't doing this for some weak shot at fame.

His pumping heart and his frantic thoughts drifted back towards Chas.

"Bella, I ah..." his gaze flickered down to his hands still on her shoulders, and he let go, dropping his hands to his sides. There was another uncomfortable laugh from him. "I ah... sorry, Bella, I don't ah... I don't really..." the words coming out of his mouth felt sticky like glue, like he couldn't speak.

He didn't really wanna do this, and he was sure that if the situation was changed, if there was no Chas, if there was no pining for Lydia, or...

Hell, forget Lydia. His infatuation with her came and went as quickly as his infatuation with anyone did.

If there was no Chas, his response would be different.

"I ah... I'm sorry, I like... I'm with Chas, I don't... I don't like you like... like that."




mood
hypeeee

location
balllll

outfit
look he has a fun tie





playing...
Stuck Like Glue
by Sugarland​




mentions
Chas

interactions
Bella

tags
geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 
"Goddess of Chaos"
Magnolia Darrington
@Rebel.lia.on has set their status to:
Charming as the Devil and twice as pretty

@Rebel.lia.on has set their outfit to:
Bold as ever (Orange is the new black)

@Rebel.lia.on has set their location to:
Winter Ball

@Rebel.lia.on has mentioned:
Josie, Lucky

@Rebel.lia.on has interacted with:
Remi ( AkuTheWolfOkami AkuTheWolfOkami ) Open
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So the day of the dance was here and Maggie wished she could say she was ready. The week had been hell between trying to keep Josie occupied and kinda together, and be there for her as her best friend. On the other side also trying to get Lucky to get off his ass and fix things, while trying not to think about the position she'd put herself in with Remi by agreeing to go to the dance with him, or rather asking him.

She thought it'd be a good way to set everything back the way it was before his little texting accident, because that HAD to be an accident. She loved Remi, she loved spending time with him, she felt like he was a real one amongst all the fakes. The one guy her brother liked that didn't make her suspicious... well not anymore. He certainly did at first because of the company he keeps but he'd earned enough of her trust.

But did she wanna deal with feelings? No, especially not with Remi. Not that he was a bad guy, in fact he was a great guy and her family would probably approve, and she'd probably actually get her act together for him, but the problem with that was the word...probably. She might change for him, but then again she might not. She might drag him down and she'd hate herself if she ever ruined anything for him because she somewhere along the line lost her sense of self control.

The lines between what was truly her and what was an act for the family had began to blur and she didn't want to bring down anyone she cared about. Well at least no one with a pristine image like Remi.

She didn't mind dating Felix because well even with his good image, anyone who was anyone around here knew what he did on the side, so was it all that surprising a girl like Maggie would sleep with her supplier? Nope, that's on brand and nothing is harmed. Even if she'll never admit to her feeling for Lucky even dating him wouldn't be so off brand cause well they are best friends and royal fuck ups so they fit right?

Not that she'll allow herself to fantasize about such things because keeping her heart under wraps especially with everything that's happened recently has been hard enough with her daydreaming about the impossible and further breaking her own heart.

However Remi was proving to be a good distraction. She wasn't sure if it was doing wonders for the whole fixing things to be like they were before with them being just good friends, but it was a nice break from the drama. Dinner was lovely, and who doesn't like spending the evening with someone who doesn't judge you every second of the day, or treat you like a slut, or you have to be wild and crazy to keep up with and keep your reputation? For him she stayed sober while with him because there wasn't a need to be high on anything when they were together and he didn't really indulge himself. No fun in being high all by yourself right?

Finally at the ball however she was back to feeling like she had to put on the mask, uphold the reputation, and being the Maggie everyone knew and expected her to be. Down time was over even if he was at her side, and a part of her felt like he of all people understood that. The needing to keep things status quo no matter how you feel on the inside.

Hearing his comment and the slight change in his tone, her brow raised ever so slightly, but she choose not to pry into it. She wanted too, but she knew better. If he wanted to talk about it, then he would. Plus now wouldn't be the time or place for a conversation that might actually be bothering him since they were still in public after all. "Ah yes, Well don't let me keep you from all the fun now. She's a lucky girl, and I think it's time for me to mix and mingle a bit anyways." She giggled, "Wouldn't be much of a night if I didn't get into a little trouble, now would it?" She winked.

Giving his hand a light squeeze and a light peck on the cheek, "See you around Remi, and have some fun ok? I'm around if you need me." She looked at him with a certain gaze to let him know she meant it. Whatever was going on, whatever he was going trough she'd be there if he wanted her to be. Just because she wasn't IN LOVE with him didn't mean she didn't love him.

With a small wave she walked off to go see if she could find any other of her friends, or at the very least someone she could bump a blunt or drink off of.

º º code by ditto º º
 






Ashton West


Ash was having a good time -- like, for real. Even if she kept kind of finding herself glancing around in search of her boyfriend and his date, only to be repeatedly disappointed when she saw him nowhere, and even if she was kind of watching out for JJ, Ash was like... she was having fun.

Being with Newt was, like, super easy. Like, Ash didn't really know how to explain it -- it was just easy. Like, she never felt like she had to try too hard to be someone that she wasn't, or be too mature, or whatever else it was that usually plagued her existence. Nope, with him? She felt carefree and happy, and her cheeks were kind of hurting already from smiling so much as they talked, and hung out, sipping drinks that her amazing date had of course grabbed for them.

Speaking of the drinks, Ash was mid sip when Newt grabbed her hand with the words that she absolutely did not want to hear.

"Hey Ash...let's go dance." He said, and she placed her glass on the nearby table before being tugged out to the dance floor after him. "Trust me."

"I can't dance," she whined, as if he didn't know that. At this point? Like, Eli had made sure that everyone knew that she absolutely could not move in any kind of good fashion, except for like slow dancing, but that was only because slow dancing required exactly zero skill.

A blush was rising to her cheeks as they made it out onto the dance floor, and she self-consciously found herself glancing around the crowd, before her gaze moved up to look at the band on stage. Javi, Kian, and... Lucky caught her gaze, and she wasn't sure if he was like actually looking at her or someone else in the crowd, but he smirked, and she gave him a smile and a little wave before he started looking over the crowd again, and she turned her attention to her date who was...

Oh god.

"This is way more fun than standing around right?" He asked as he...

Well, whatever he was doing was supposed to be dancing, she was pretty sure, but he could've had her fooled. He kind of looked like those really weird inflatable arm tube men, and she had to bring a hand up to her mouth to keep herself from giggling... but it didn't really work out as she started laugh.

"Way better," she joked, and then she kind of like...

Let loose, right?

Yeah, Ash was actually like, totally starting to get into the dancing. She reached out, taking one of Newt's hands in hers and started like, dancing with him. Kind of. But not in like some kind of gushy romantic way because like, Newt was great or whatever, but like also eww.

But like, for once? She didn't really care who might be watching her.

Well, she hadn't, until Newt was spinning her and she came out of said spin, her dress twirling around her thin frame, and her gaze snagged on someone that did cause her to come to a stop, her heavy breaths catching in her throat, and her heart giving a couple embarrassed pumps in her chest. Heck, even her cheeks -- which had already been flushed red from, well, the heat of the dancefloor -- turned a darker shade of red.

She struggled to catch her breath, her hazel eyes turning away from Lucky to look up towards Newt as the fast music died away, and a slow song came on.

Newt bowed before her, and Ash let out a soft giggle, and then took his hand with a little curtsy of her own, and then she drew closer to him. Slow dancing was like easy, and her arms easily reached up to rest on his shoulders, and she was just kind of like smiling as she looked up at him, and just like...

God, this was the most fun she'd had in like...

Way too long.

Ash had forgotten how much she, like, loved dances.

A few moments of dancing had passed, when Newt spoke.

"I think you were right....I think I have feelings for Mikaela..."

Well duh. Was that, like, supposed to be news or something?

"Yeah," she said with a laugh and a little shake of her head. "I've been telling you that..." she trailed off as, like, again, she glanced over and saw Lucky. Dropping her hands from around Newt's neck, Ash placed her hands lightly against his chest. "You should go, like... talk to her or whatever. Tell her or something. Like, I don't know..." she shrugged, and her hands started fiddling with his jacket. "It wouldn't hurt to, like, tell her, right?"

Well, maybe it would.

Ash didn't really think she should be giving out any advice.

Another glance in Lucky's direction.

"I'll, umm... you go find Mikaela, or... something, I'm going to go umm..." Ash waved a hand dismissively in Lucky's direction. With a smile, she leaned up, pressing another kiss against his cheek. As she fell back, she was still smiling. "Thanks again, for like... coming with me, I had a lot of fun with you."

"I'll come find you later," she promised Newt and then, with one final brush of her fingers over his jacket, she stepped past him and started walking towards Lucky. A faint smirk formed on her face, her hands lacing together in front of her as she came to a stop next to him.

"So," she said, her lips growing into a smile as she started to speak. "Like... does the whole performing here thing mean that you're, like, super famous now? Should I ask for an autograph or...?" As she trailed, Ash gave a little frown, her lips forming into a pout. "I forgot to bring paper, so I guess that's out."




mood
the happiest ever

location
the Ball

outfit
purple





playing...
Generous
by Ash West​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Newt, Lucky

tags
PenguinFox PenguinFox gh0stwriter gh0stwriter


º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: mad again

OUTFIT: suit

LOCATION: ball
basics
MENTIONS:
Casey, Bella
INT:
geminiy geminiy (Ezra)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Chas Marino

Letting all that out felt great. Chas was back on his A-game, even when faced with the gigantic, self-proclaimed lady killer in front of him. They could have bonded over being self-important and cocky if it wasn't for the fundamental difference in their cockiness. Chas was confident in his talents and pedigree, while Ezra used his lackluster charm for cut-and-dry sexual encounters coupled with godawfully trite banter.

Well, Chas wasn't just another short boy with a shorter temper and he certainly wasn't insecure enough to buy into his little jabs. He was more important. He was richer, he was hotter, he was more successful, and he was way above any of this. Ezra's intense stare did little to shake his resolve as he continued his tirade. No amount of the enormous guy looking down on him was enough to make him feel any smaller. It was all superficial bullshit. And Chas knew, because he was the king of superficial bullshit.

The moment the artist set his glass down was a victory. If he really did turn on his heel and leave, it would have been a new record for telling off condescending assholes. But of course, life was an uphill battle for Chas. Ezra instead began to slow clap. The writer's blood began to boil, his gaze intensifying with building rage. "I haven't snapped," he snapped, rolling his eyes like a bored teenage girl.

He wasn't going to deny how trivial his rant had been; of course Ezra would take little offense to it, but that wasn't to say the guy hadn't closely listened to everything he said. It was all genuine, and their mutual realization of the fact was enough satisfaction. The topic of conversation then switched to Casey, so Chas naturally refused to turn his head out of indignation. That was a piece of satisfaction Ezra would definitely not be tasting tonight. Like his words held any weight... he was clearly delusional.

His heart skipped a beat as the two did a little tango, essentially switching places. This gave Chas a better opportunity to covertly peer at Casey, who was curiously being led around in a dance by the know-it-all little French girl. His heart sank; it was selfish to wish the boy no attention from anyone but himself, his fake boyfriend, but watching the events unfold still stung. But... good for Casey getting the girl. He deserved something real.

His eyes darted back to Ezra's, which were most irritatingly fixed right toward his face. Fuck. He had to have caught him looking.

"No, I've yet to meet anyone besides myself with an ounce of self-control around here," he quickly replied, refocusing his attention on the current conversation. Even so, it was hard not to sneak a few glances at the couple dancing just across the room. It was hard to make out their faces, but they seemed into it enough. Again.. good for Casey. Of course he had a girl waiting on him. He really did deserve it...

"Did you get into sculpting just to carve out dicks and balls? You're disgusting," he added even quicker, making up for his momentary lapse in energy.

Immediately as Ezra continued speaking, Chas went back to rubbing his forehead, nursing a splitting headache brought on by God knows what stressor now. "He gave her a fucking corsage," he growled, a sliver of his inner self slipping out, "I can't believe I thought this stupid thing meant anything." He fiddled with the purple flowers pinned to his lapel, then plucked a petal. It fluttered daintily toward the ground, a reminder that any remnant of anything good was left behind the day he sold his soul to shallow stardom.

Of course the goddamn flowers were just a formality. Something you give to a date to make them think they matter. Well, Chas could afford fifty thousand fucking flower arrangements. He could show Casey and his little girlfriend. If he wanted to, he could have filled his entire room with hydrangea petals. This one may have been on Casey, but it wasn't worth the few bucks he shelled out for it at the florist. Damn it all to hell...

...But he wasn't being reasonable. He knew that. Casey was being kind, and it had to have come from somewhere genuine, because it was Casey, but the fact that Bella got one too for being... just another girl? Like she was at all comparable to Chas goddamn Marino...?

What even mattered anymore? What was he doing so wrong to be on the same playing field as the dick-biting lit chick? Casey was a two-timing, flower-giving bastard and Chas was such a moron for buying into any of it. For being foolish enough to finally care. And to be unable to just... be happy for someone else.

"Stop laughing," he ordered sternly, wiping at his eyes. So fucking pitiful. His cheeks burned red, and the more he could sense it the more he felt like a fucking moron for opening himself up to any of this. "You don't even know what you're talking about, so if you could k-kindly..." Ahem. "If you could kindly stop meddling in my relationship, I'd really appreciate it. Tell me why you're here again?"

While he waited for an answer to that, Chas slyly grabbed a tiny bottle of eyedrops from his pocket and dripped them onto his eyes, blinking and wiping at the liquid streaming down his cheek. His face felt hot. His collar was hot. It was so hot in there. Beads of sweat cropped up all over his arms, as did a sharp chill. He was going to be sick.

...

FUCK! FUUUUUUCK!

WHY DID HE EVEN BOTHER!? Why did option A end in hurt, only for option B and C and D and E and F and all four backup plans to hurt just as much? He didn't care, though. He was Chas Marino. He was above it all. Petty shit like this was nothing. Attention from the horny Kiwi was nothing. He didn't need any of it. He just needed to get through the night, get a few more pictures, then get home so he could let it all out over a glass of merlot and Swiss chocolates.

An arm wrapped itself around his shoulders. Whatever. The fabric was easily identifiable as Ezra's coat sleeve, which led him away. Whatever. Anywhere but this godforsaken spot. He kept his mouth shut, an indignant look on his face. What was it about guys leading him places that made him so susceptible to watery eyes? All of this was some cruel deja vu, and fucking hell he hated being a cliché. He had enough of those in his cheap fucking manuscripts. He could have written this whole night drunk and it probably would have passed for someone's dramatic junior creative writing project.

"He's busy..." he echoed flatly, his brain sluggishly following Ezra's words, "Yeah... that's true. It's fine, though. He's allowed to see other..." Fuck, he wasn't explaining this right now. "Yeah." Once the two of them were finally behind the speaker, Chas bunched up with his head hung low, exhaustedly rubbing at his face. A sudden wave of tiredness passed over him, and it was enough to disregard his mighty stance.

“Dance with me. Or are you too proud of yourself to deny yourself that pleasure too?”

Wh...what...?

Chas' head slowly raised itself, an expression of sheer bewilderment written all over him. "What...?" His brows knitted together tightly while he peered at the hand extended toward him, then back up. "Are you serious...?" he scoffed, his voice faltering.

"Do I look like I want to fucking dance?" he spat, a little bit of color returning to his face. As his anger bubbled and simmered, he began to notice his fists shaking, then a sudden urge to let go of the tension in his body. Rather pathetically, he forced two hands forward into Ezra's chest in an attempt to send him back. "You're such a fucking prick! Is everything a game to you?"

His entire body began to quiver, red enveloping his formerly flushed face. "If you think it's my pride that keeps me from entertaining any of this, then you're dead wrong. You don't know what it's like to live with obligations." He jabbed a finger into the other boy. "You wouldn't know what... Ugh!" He turned around and threw his head back, marking the beginnings of another tantrum. "A day in my life would break you. An hour in my shoes would make you understand just how repulsive you really are. A minute would be all you need to understand why Casey and I just have to..."

He couldn't even figure out what he wanted to say. How could he, Chas Marino the ever verbose, be at a loss for words? In what world was that a possibility? "If you're so bored and insecure you feel the need to stick your nose in my problems and pretend to help, maybe take a second to self-assess. You need a shrink? Some pills? Meaningless sex? A hit called? I could give you just about four hundred numbers, and none of them are mine."

He crossed his arms with a burning glare toward the much taller boy. "Seriously, Ezra. Fuck off."

I should have fucking known.
code by valen t.
 
Last edited:

Livanna Moore
"Habits of my heart.”

@Livieeee is has updated her status to:
Having so much fun! 🥳
@Livieeee has interacted with:
Gen

@Livieeee has mentioned:
Landon, Nickie, Kayla

@Livieeee has set her outfit to:
Fairytale worthy

@Livieeee has tagged:
geminiy geminiy​

Livanna Moore, popstar but maybe not popstar of the century.

Or, who cares. Let her be a little cocky.

Popstar of the century was sulking at the concrete steps that led into the hall that was the most astonishing and number one dance of the year for Hollywood Arts.

The Winter Ball.

Her last Winter Ball mind you, she was a senior now.

So many firsts, so many lasts.

So much excitement just for her to end up alone. Liv brought up her phone. Scrolling through social media to distract herself as she listened to the faint music that was coming from inside.

Status update:

Having so much fun! 🥳

She was.

A grand time… really.

It started out nice, anyway. Like… getting ready with Nickie– which, oh my gosh, was so freaking fun.

Seriously.

Livanna couldn’t remember the last time she’s had that much fun with… anyone who wasn’t Gen. There was also like… this moment where– agh, nevermind. It wasn’t anything special.

Oh!

Wait.

Here’s a totally adorable flashback like scene because that’s definitely what she’s thinking about right now.

“So… are you excited?” Liv asked, leaning almost closer as she applied mascara onto Nickie’s lashes, “Blink!” She ordered, waiting for her reply.

“Duh?” Nickie obeyed Liv’s command, then blinked a few extra times and smiled. “Obvs, Liv,” she continued with an eye roll. “It’s not like I’ve been, like, talking about it, like, all week just to be fucking devastated now that it’s here.” She gave a little laugh.

Obviously, Liv wasn’t too keen on going since she’d have to see Gen with Landon— especially after… their friendly outing.

But she was happy to go with Nickie.

“You’re gonna look absolutely bomb-dot-com, Miss Abrams. Exclusive dresses… exclusive makeup artist… I mean, come on.”

She threw the mascara off to the side, closing her eyes and choosing a lipstick at random because that’s fun.

“Ugh, Liv, literally hush,” Nickie laughed, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling. Her eyes were trained on Liv, and she went quiet.

Liv leaned in almost uncomfortably close— maybe with like, some people but proximity never bothered her with Nickie.

Her gaze stood on her lips for complete and utter focus because lipstick was totally sneaky, duh.

“I’m glad I’m going with you and not—“

Kayla.

That was mean.

Terrible of her, really.

Liv sighed, a smile onto her face as she finished applying the lipstick.

Although it took a few moments for Liv to tear her gaze away from Nickie’s lips.

“I wouldn’t want to go with anyone else.”

Nickie rolled her eyes, but quietly, she murmured, “Y’know…honestly? Me either.”

Liv hesitated, a blush settling onto her cheeks before a wide smile appeared seconds later, she attempted to bite her lip to suppress it, but it was to no avail.

__

She had to talk to Hunter, though.

Liv wasn’t really happy about that. But she let them have their space.

She looked everywhere for Nickie a little while later, and... nothing.

Liv didn't blame her though. She knew how it was...

Exes and all…

Speaking of exes… while wandering around, looking for her own date.

Which… was not really a date because she and Nickie went as friends.

She saw Gen.

…

She looked beautiful.

Like always.

She almost felt guilty.

No, not for being high.

For feeling like she’d done something wrong.

She was in a relationship. But she didn’t feel guilty for… feeling anything for her, or doing anything for that matter.

It was wrong, she knew that.

She felt guilty because she didn’t regret it. Liv felt guilty because she told herself she was done. Could you lie to yourself? Betray yourself?

Maybe.

But not over and over.

She never trusted herself when it came to her.

Because she knew it… was so easy to fall into that routine merely at the sight of her.

Tonight, though.

Tonight was different.

Liv swore it was like a punch to the gut whenever she saw her with Landon. Or… heard that she was with Landon. When she mentioned Landon. Anything about Landon– she hated. Despised, even.

It was the worst feeling in the world.

Maybe not worse than being alone, but it came pretty close.

So, why was she tweeting that she was having a grand time when she was outside of the ball, sitting on the steps, alone and sulking?

Oh, for show of course.

Liv was never sad.

Out of it.

Boring.

Not with any of them, anyway. There was a very select few Liv allowed herself to be completely genuine with.

Nickie, new best friend– but still.

So…

Nickie and…

Gen.

“Hey.” The brunette sat on the steps beside her.

As if the thought of Gen alone was enough for the universe to throw her Liv’s way.

They’d never be apart if that was the case. Her heart already started to pound at the sound of her voice, and it worsened at her compliment.

“You look beautiful.” She said, and Liv didn't hesitate to reply, the corners of her lips quirking into the softest smile.

“I could say the same about you.”

She did, just not outloud. Only now Liv fully took in Gen’s appearance, her features softening almost as quickly as her gaze did, and her heart ached.

You’d think she’d be in a more… chipper mood, per usual when she was high.

But lately, everything she took just wasn’t doing it for her anymore.

That didn’t mean she didn’t crave it any less, but Liv just felt like she needed something stronger if she ever wanted to feel… better.

Oxy was one thing.

Coke was another.

She wasn’t on anything but oxy, though... at the moment. The coke was stashed in her car– probably not the best hiding spot, but nobody really suspected Liv of anything.

Except, well, the people who knew.

Liv tried not to, but it came as easy as second-nature. She reached out a hand, caressing the girl’s cheek.

She was drunk.

And she was high.

It’s not like it mattered much, not anymore, anyway.

No matter how many times Gen yelled at her about it– despite her being intoxicated herself, they’d always end up here. Comforting each other without a second thought.

No matter the arguments, the drama, the issues.

Liv would never be able to turn her away.

Her voice was soft, her tone low as her thumb brushed against her cheek, wiping a stray tear.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

It didn’t matter if Gen was dating Landon or not. Liv wasn’t possessive by any means.

But…

She loved her first.
º º code by ditto º º
 






Lucky DuBois




Things were going well. Not in the grand scheme of things, but right then. In this specific moment. He had to give Javi props. He hadn’t said anything shitty toward him. Sure, it was mostly because Javi was doing anything and everything, yet again, to avoid any contact with him. It didn’t bother him. That’s what he kept telling himself. That is what he’d keep telling himself.

Javi was just a one-time fuck that got a little too attached. A stray cat you fed once and now thinks of you as its owner. Buuuut… he was one hell of a bassist. Yeah, Lucky enjoyed chilling with him. He had had worse company. But ever since Javi went full exorcist in an attempt to ‘save his soul’, it went downhill. It had become unbearable. Tortuous. Javi just didn’t understand. He wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t be saved. And, to be honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. Sooner Javi could see him as the lost cause everyone else did, the better it would be.

They needed to play it cool. Kian was always teetering the line of various emotions. But this time…this was on him and Javi. If they wanted to keep the band alive, which was the only thing holding Lucky together, they needed to fake it until they made it. Was it working? Bare minimum was Javier Cervantes’ middle name, but Ki seemed to buy it.

“Obviously we’re the fucking best. The crowd lost their fucking shit. Imagine what would have happened if I really had ripped my shirt off.” He laughed. Javi had a presence on stage. Definitely one that people gravitated toward which was ironic…since he was usually battling someone in Twitter daily about how annoying he allegedly is. But on stage, the crowd loved him. Loved them. And that was all that mattered.

“You were fucking perfect, Kian.” The lack of compliment thrown Lucky’s way wasn’t lost. He knew it was intentional, but there was no way he was going to play into his hand. He didn’t need compliments or praise. He knew he was good. Knew he had killed it out there. That was all that mattered.

“Hope Jojo was somewhere in that crowd. ‘Sober Up’ was for her.” He knew all too well that she was. Had even seen her enjoy the music until she saw him. Until she was reminded what a piece of shit he was. Again…why were people surprised? It was his destiny after all. “Promised her I’d hang if we both ended up alone tonight.”

Guess the gloves came off. Civility had gone down and he could see it on Kian’s face that he was uncomfortable. Disappointed. He could retaliate. Could start a fight. Say something that would be sure to make Javi blow up and storm off. But he didn’t. It wasn’t worth the aggravation. He was already irritated. Already hating the fact that he wasn’t on stage or under any type of influence.

“Okay, fine. Come, follow me.” Lucky perked up. He’d get the guy back. He just needed to find a new supplier. Javi wasn’t gonna give him shit. He never wanted to see Saint again and that was the limit of who his drug contacts were. He followed the others into the dressing room and watched as Kian emptied the contents of his bag.

Decisions, decisions. It needed to be quick. Before Javi said something Lucky couldn’t ignore. Before he did one more thing to make his life utterly intolerable. He snagged a pill of ecstasy and popped it into his mouth. “You’re the best, Ki. I’ll get you back.” He assured the other guy. “We killed it tonight.” He said again, glancing quickly at Javi and ending his gaze on Kian. “I’m gonna get lost.” He tapped Kian’s shoulder. “See you at home.” He said as he left the dressing room.

He needed out. Out of this building. Out of his life really. He wished he could disappear. If there were a way to do that and keep JBN…he’d do it in a heartbeat. Just played when they had shows and vanished when they didn’t. That’d be the life.

He made his way out from behind the stage into the main area. The exit was just across the dance floor. He was almost free. A few students gave him a pat on the back. A few accolades for his performance. JBN was doing well. His agent thought it was great. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. His eyes scanned the crowd for the best exit strategy…and to avoid anyone he didn’t necessarily want to run into.

He stopped when he saw a familiar form. One that didn’t fill him with rage. Maybe the only person at this point. A small smirk formed on his face as her eyes caught his. Her embarrassment was evident. The dead stop. The shock. The blush. All telltale signs that she did not want him as a witness.

The music slowed. The other two began to dance. Lucky scratched the back of his head and looked around the dance floor. He should leave…but he’d promised her he’d stay. Could he really afford to piss his only ally off? Not that he needed anyone, but it was nice to be around someone who didn’t hate you. Or judge you. She didn’t. She never did.

Fuck. Was this the longest song in the history of music? He was getting antsy. The drugs were starting to kick in. The music and hums of the vibrations felt amazing against his skin, but he didn’t belong here. He glanced back over at Ash. Their eyes met as he smiled. He took a few steps toward a small clearing in the crowd as he saw her excuse herself from her date. The one everyone knew was just her friend. Not that it mattered.

“So, like…does the whole performing here thing mean that you’re, like, super famous now? Should I ask for an autograph or…?” He chuckled. She wasn’t wrong. The publicity from Arts Fest and tonight had definitely gained him some notoriety. It had put him in the public eye. Sure…the being related to the Harlows thing had a bit to do with it but he chose to ignore that. Any publicity was good publicity, right?

“I forgot to bring paper, so I guess that’s out.” He rolled his eyes. “Missed opportunities, Blair.” He shook his head. “Coulda been my first autograph. Would have been worth millions!” He joked as he shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to come to the next show.” he breathed a sigh of relief. It was the first time he didn’t feel on edge all night. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was that someone actually wanted to talk to him.

“And you’ve been holding out on me.” He faked offense. “Who knew there was a tiny dancer trapped inside you all along? Those moves…” He smirked. They were fine. Typical dance moves. Nothing spectacular. Jennifer Lopez wasn’t going to be singer her praises. But she was having fun. “Were outstanding.” He teased as he took a moment to look her up and down. Damn. She looked amazing. As a friend, obviously. “You’ve got a..” He slowly reached his hand out and brushed a stray piece of hair off her cheek.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He said genuinely. She did. There was no denying that Ash was one of the hottest girls at Hollywood Arts. And she’d prolly heard that over and over again, but yet, she had the self confidence of a chair with one leg. “You sure your date won’t mind me stealing you away?”





mood
defeated location
the danceoutfit
outfit





playing...
it's alright

by mother mother




mentions
josie, ash, kian, javi
interactions
javi and kitags
hery hery geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 



Nikolai.





































  • mood



    Lil nervous oop

















Nikolai’s last winter ball. More importantly, one step closer to freedom. Plus, it meant free booze. A win, even if the music would suck and there was a 95% chance of tear inducing drama, they planned on being too gone for it to matter.

Tonight’s look was simple, a half up look with a couple braids, eyeliner, and a neutral lipstick. But the dress, man the dress. Nothing extravagant, but they liked being draped in a piece of the night sky. The white stars stood out against the deep black, and the light, layered material built up the skirt nicely. It fell just a centimeter before the floor, leaving them room to walk without tripping themself. One of the nicer dresses they’d been able to get their hands on. The piece truly said “Nikolai.” A pair of simple black stilettos finished the look perfectly. Except for one thing…

The dress was gaping a bit at the top. That wouldn’t do. This was one of the things mothers were good for. Nikolai dug through a bathroom drawer, not bothering to care about the organization. There it was, fashion tape. Trying their best to make it even, Nikolai put the tape on their skin and pressed the edge of the dress into it. Fixed. Now no risk of a nip slip. Keeping it polite tonight.

Nikolai smiled at their reflection, doing a couple last minute spins to experience that swoosh before going down stairs. Stairs in heels had no business being so scary. This is why cows don’t walk down stairs. Or something like that. Their eyes stayed fixated on their steps until they were safe at the bottom.

“Oh Schatzi, let me get a look at you.” Nikolai cringed, she was supposed to be too wine drunk to care about what they were doing right now. They stood still in the foyer, listening to her heels echo towards them on the tiled floor of the kitchen. “Look at you,” she repeated after she rounded the corner. “Almost as pretty as your mother,” she laughed. That was on brand.

Nikolai held back most of their flinch as she reached out, fixing anything on them that she felt was out of place.
“Mama it’s-“


“I know, much too old for your mama now.” Yeah… that was it. “Is Ash coming for pictures?” She wouldn’t have let them go with Rikki.

“I’m picking her up.”
Rikki wouldn’t be caught dead coming here anyway. Of course, Nikolai always took the safe route and never extended the invite.

“Oh a gentleman today,” She tucked the tail of their braid into their updo. All they could do was look away as they swallowed their discomfort. “Boys your age just don’t get it anymore.” Nikolai nodded, stiff as they waited for her hands to be off them. One last glance over, “Is this one of my designs?”

No.
“Yes.”


She nodded, finally stepping back. “Don’t be out too late.” Not that Nikolai would use the front door anytime past 11. “I need you tomorrow for my release.”

Nikolai took the chance to start towards the door,
“Can’t, I got a project due with,”
Fuck who was some model asshole she’d know,
“Holloway. Wish I could.”
The door shut behind them before she could get another word in.

The chilled air wrapped them in a shell of security. It had been waiting for this moment to envelop them in comfort. Digging through their purse eventually yielded keys, lighting up the Porsche with a click.

In truth, Nikolai didn’t love school dances. Despite their frequent romantic involvements, dances felt like too much. There was so much pressure to have the perfect night, if you brought the wrong person it would just blow up in your face.

Queue Rikki. Bringing a friend tonight meant they could live relatively pressure free. He’d hate it, but he’d hate it even if they rented a limo and got him flowers. Knowing his reaction would be negative in advance released the weight from Nikolai’s shoulders. Tonight was just a time to have fun and get absolutely smashed.

In the driver's seat, Nikolai sent Rikki a quick text before buckling their seat belt and turning the keys in the ignition.

OMW bring a flask


It was Rikki, he'd probably stashed half the liquor cabinet away for this, but he’d need a reminder to bring enough to share.

As soon as the phone was away, Nikolai was off.

0 to 60 in 15 seconds, which was slow for them, even in a neighborhood. The wind blew loose locks of their hair back and Nikolai silently regretted leaving it half down. Music boomed in their ears, loud enough to drown out any of the worries they might’ve had before. This was so much better than any dance. If only ballet felt like this, then maybe they’d take at least a few college auditions seriously.

The wind burned their eyes, but Nikolai refused to drive any differently. This was living. To give up this thrill would be no better than dying.

Rikki’s place was far too close for Nikolai to fully escape. Normal speed was forced back onto them as they pulled into the driveway. Normally they’d just let the thump of the bass lure Rikki out, but what kind of date would that make them?

Nikolai turned off the car, plunging them into silence. The slam of the door and the click of their heels on the concrete paled in comparison to booming synth pop. Their hand hovered over the doorbell before retracting. Eyes fixated on their reflection in the sidelite. They’d looked better, but that was a thought they’d been having every day for the past month.

Taking their time, Nikolai straightened the fabric of their dress and reapplied a nude lipstick. The hair needed fixing too, but they didn’t have time before the door opened.

Nikolai’s eyes widened as they did their best not to look like they’d been grooming themself on the porch like a freak. Their heart raced in their chest, pulsing under their skin. This shouldn’t have been that embarrassing. They’d used Rikki’s phone reflection to fix their eyeliner once, this was nothing. Yet, their cheeks grew warm and their mouth dried out.

Come on Nikolai don’t just stand there, say something.
“Hey…”
Good job.

































ribs



lorde










♡coded by uxie♡
 






Tilly Phoenix


As she sat there across from Kayla, Tilly was finding herself actively avoiding looking directly at the girl who sat across from her. The tables at the ball weren’t large because, obviously, they had to fit a large quantity of them in the ballroom, so they were circular and small.

She wasn’t trying to avoid looking at her date. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but Tilly didn’t know what she could say. Things between them were still rocky and, if Tilly was honest with herself, there were some remnants of the hurt that Kayla’s silence created. Weeks went on and Tilly hadn’t heard from her friend…

…Erm, friends with benefits.

Yeah, that sounded more accurate.

She hadn’t heard from Kayla in weeks until last week and now they were each other’s date for what might possibly be the most romantic time of the year. Tilly wasn’t the Valentine’s kind of girl. She never bought into it, but Christmas and wintertime as a whole? That was more her speed. She just loved everything about it: the decorations, the symbolic atmosphere of the spiritual end of it, and, of course, spending that time with who mattered most to you.

Of course, Tilly was so far away from her family that it was hard for her to think about it without being just a little sad. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t bring herself to glance up at Kayla almost immediately. A mixture of her being ways away from home and…the other thing.

“Think it would be better if I was able to get on stage and let it rock though, but I rather be here with you so..here I am. I missed you.”

Suddenly, the girl jerked in surprise. Her entire body seemed to have jumped. “I missed you too…” She said without even comprehending what had slipped out of her mouth. Tilly was like that, after all. When something caught her off by surprise, instead of thinking about it, she just…said it without really considering what such an admission might imply. “I-I mean, if you want to, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind letting you join in…”

Her eyes went to the band currently entertaining the ball on the stage. She smiled at JBN, who were indeed rocking it. She also couldn’t stop herself from smiling and showing a genuine joy in seeing how their music was filling those who were on the dancefloor, allowing themselves to have fun.

Then she felt something that might resemble jealousy.

No, it was closer to envy. Envy because part of her wanted to go out there too, yet she couldn’t bring herself to ask Kayla for that. She wasn’t exactly sure how to bring it up. Silence had claimed their conversation yet again and Tilly never did excel in breaking it on her own; she always relied on others to do that for her.

As she remained sitting down, Tilly felt her legs stiffen up, so she stood up just to stretch them. The joints cracked and she could actually feel the pressure that had gathered in them release to the point where an audible sound left her lips and she immediately went red when she realized she was a bit louder than she thought she was.

“S..sorry, I wasn’t going anywhere. My legs were just stiff is all…” She said to Kayla, silence officially broken by her usual blundering-ness.

Just as she was going to sit back down, Tilly felt something push her somewhat against the table. She felt the edge of the table poke her around her thigh. She didn’t know what it was, but it felt like the backend of someone’s elbow. She made a sound and turned around and what she saw -- rather, who she saw -- had literally taken her breath away.

Tilly was a romantic at heart and she may as well have bore witness to someone’s prince charming. She knew he wasn’t hers because someone who was that hot couldn’t be tailor-made for her. He was befitting for someone who was better than her.

“Hey”

And God his voice sent chills down her spine. Tilly couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She held her arms close to her chest as she stood backside-first against the table. She and this guy were around the same height but she may as well have been someone in the palm of his hand because she couldn’t even think as she tried to form a single reply, but nothing came. It was honestly taking everything in Tilly to just remain standing and not be a classic case of girl-faints-in-presence-of-hot-boy.

“Anyone ever tell you that pink’s your color, babe?”

All the time. Everyone says I look amazing in it!

Yeah, if only she could muster the strength to say that so that he could hear. But just him saying what she has heard all her life, for some reason it had a different effect on her coming from him. She didn’t know who he was. She has seen him around school sometimes, but she can’t remember if she ever caught his name. And now he called her babe.

Aaah! She was close to panicking that it wasn’t even funny. Tilly really needed to find some control of this.

“Y..yeah, they have…” That was all she could say. Literally, the only thing she had enough strength to say.

And then they met eye to eye. He had the most amazing dark eyes. They were shaped like perfect almonds. God, why was she cursed with freakish height? Sometimes she often wondered what it would’ve been like if she was maybe three or four inches shorter. At least then she could be like the other girls and look up at some dreamy guy or girl, depending on who she was with.

Oh god, Kayla. This was all happening right in front of Kayla and Tilly just…couldn’t bring herself to not look at him.

“But hey, honestly, babe, you’re looking really hot tonight. Don’t think I’ve seen you around, but I feel like you’re the kinda gal who could pull anything off.”

Aaaaand here we are going to Blushing City.

Tilly could literally feel the heat emitting from his words reflecting on her cheeks, making her entire face feel hot as her cheeks turned a shade of red that she tried to hide as she turned away - though, most of her body was still facing him. “N..no, that’s not true…” She muttered in a low tone, taking a few extra moments to meet him back in his eyes.

“Just teasing you babe--”

What?! He’s just teasing? Of course, Tilly should have pieced that together.

God, she was a mess around hotness. He bumped into her and literally had her at hello.

“but hey, seriously, if you do wanna meet up later or something, you can just give Michael Reid a call, yeah? Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Webkinz, Animal Jam — hit me up, babe, ‘cuz I’d love to chit-chat.”

Mike Reid.. Okay, so his name was Mike. That was such an attractive name. She didn’t know why, but the way it rolled off her mental tongue just fit so perfectly with his swagger and charm. Michael Reid

“I’m on Twitter. And Instagram…” She said as he leaned closer after he implied they could be best friends.

And then when he got closer, she perked up. Her body went somewhat stiff like every movement in her entire body froze when she heard him almost whisper the “something more”.

Was that all it took to render her frozen like that? And all the while this was happening, the aftermath it left, the effects done, Tilly couldn’t stop thinking about his…offer? Was that what it was? An offer to do…things with him? To hang out with Mike?

As she watched him walk away and she took her seat again, as slow as she was in doing so, Tilly still couldn’t believe what just happened nor could she believe that it all happened in front of Kayla. God, what did Kayla make of all of this? Did she even know who Mike was?

Should I ask? Would that be rude?

She didn’t know, but as she continued to think about it, the more…intrigued she was.

No, intrigued was the wrong word. Or, rather it didn’t encompass what she was feeling. She was captivated by Michael Reid. She was so captivated that, as she found herself glancing at her date, she smiled. Pushing Mike’s perfection personified of a face down deep -- at least for the time being -- Tilly held her hand out, extending it towards her date. She still smiled and, though her lip quivered, she said, “Do, uh, you want to dance, Kayla?”






mood
In absolute awe

location
The Ballroom

outfit
Bashful in Pink





playing...
my ted talk
by mxmtoon​




mentions
Mike, Kayla

interactions
Mike, Kayla

tags
ditto ditto AkuTheWolfOkami AkuTheWolfOkami


º º code by ditto º º
 
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