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

[Winona]

Damien Slater

He wasn't surprised when she didn't deny him what he clearly wanted -- she was probably hitting the high and... well, he didn't really fucking know, but there was a certain dirty relief in him. Relief because he was gonna be distracted, but he felt... gross, for whatever reason.

Maybe because this was supposed to be Luci? Maybe because this was exactly what Kian had just fucking yelled at him about?

Slater didn't know, and Slater didn't try to make sense of it as he shrugged off his suit jacket before his hands slipped to the back of Nickie's dress.

-----------------------​

After fucking anyone, there was always this kind of... hollow feeling in the pit of Damien's chest. Didn't matter how good it was, how hot his partner was, there was always this tiny little bit of... disgust maybe? Yeah, probably that, deep in his chest -- disgust with himself for what he'd done, but he typically was able to ignore that feeling, but tonight, everything seemed to burn deeper in his skin than it normally did.

It was getting harder and harder to fucking forget shit.

As his hands fumbled in the dark to pull his pants on, he heard Nickie say hot in the dark. Probably about his totally killer scrawny shrimp body, and he let out a small chuckle in response. What the fuck was he actually supposed to say to that, huh? There was no good fucking answer.

Damien settled back on the seat, buttoning his pants before he grabbed his shirt, pulling it on and he started to button it up before he just gave up and instead left it unbuttoned and grabbed his jacket.

“You’ll call me later, won’t you?” Nickie asked. “Or, like, text me, yeah?”

His hands froze for a moment, and then he went back to slowly sliding his jacket on.

Oh fuck.

He'd dealt with this kind before.

The clingy ass bitches that didn't want to let go after a single fucking hookup. Slater was usually decent at shaking them off slowly, but hey... sometimes they were alright to keep around. An easy enough quick fuck when the feeling would show up inside him, whatever it took to keep him close or whatever the fuck.

So instead of coming up with some shitty excuse, or making some kind of rude remark that would end with him getting slapped for another time this night, Damien just...

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled before he grabbed the handle to the car door and pushed it open. He stepped out onto the pavement and then turned around, leaning down into the car. For the first time since their hookup, he actually looked her in the face. "I gotta go, but I'll... text you."

With a forced smile, he stood up, slammed the car door shut, and then patted his pockets until he found a cigarette. And with that in his mouth, he headed towards his car.

0/10 for the night, if you asked Damien.

mood
hatethishatethishatethis

location
Winter Ball

outfit
bruh this dude don't have good pictures in suits

playing...
Villains

by MAINLAND​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Nickie

tags
ditto

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

Spencer Gray

“Hope you won, if not I got your back next time.”

The story about having a battle with a tap had been a lie, but hearing those words, that someone had his back… when was the last time he heard that?

His friends and Sheryl’s, they’d all been too broken, too busy struggling with their own lives to have his back when everything was falling apart, and his family had his back, but they’d already been worn down by Nat’s illness and stretched thin. He’d just added to their burden. Having someone who he could imagine having his back, even for just a moment and over something as silly and simple as a broken faucet, he supposed it showed just how rundown he had become.

Of course at the end of the day, all of this was just his brain at work, snatching onto whatever feel good moments he encountered, however small and trying to use them to soothe his soul, make him feel better, just like it had latched onto the opportunities to play ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ with Beth and now Maggie, anything it could spin to keep him from crumbling again, to try and deceive himself, patch up the cracks that covered his heart.

Still, maybe, maybe once in a while, it wouldn’t be so bad if he went along with it, if he let himself be deceived and pretend he wasn’t the bastard that ruined his girlfriend’s life and messed up the lives of so many others around him…

Let himself pretend that he was a regular high school student who had just done something nice for a friend, lending her his jacket and smile with an easy heart and not a heavy one as she cracked jokes about the colour combination it created. And he couldn’t just give up on dance after everything he had sacrificed for it.

Was it wrong, for him to want to take advantage of the kindness of people like Beth and Maggie? People who could look at him and wouldn’t see the ghosts of his past lurking over his shoulder, who didn’t know what he had done. He’d come here with the intention to start afresh, with them, people who knew nothing of his past, people who would take his hand and pull him along with bright smiles, he could do that but…

Shedding his past was far harder than even he had envisioned. Every time he tried to take a step further away from it, to pull himself out of that darkness he had nearly drowned in, his steps seemed to get heavier and smaller, the weight on his shoulders increased and the echo of his memories grew stronger, as if telling him he could never forget. That he had no right to try and leave the past behind, to start afresh, especially with the very dance that had –

“ah ha!” The sound of Maggie’s voice dragged Spencer out of his thoughts and he looked up in time to see a sign labelled kitchen. Kitchen? There was a kitchen on the school grounds? How far had they walked to get here? Actually, what were they going to do at a kitchen?

Maggie didn’t leave him hanging for long, turning around to answer him once they entered.

“We both love food right? Let’s make something together. I’m sure they have plenty of spare ingredients laying around from all that junk outside.” Cooking? In the school kitchen? Was that even allowed? Ok that was a dumb question with an obvious answer. Still, it certainly hadn’t been what he expected when Maggie suggested doing something fun, but then again… he hadn’t given much thought to what she had in mind when she proposed they do something fun together.

“What are we thinking? Maybe a dessert? There some stuff in here for that.”

Dessert huh? And in the school kitchen on the night of the ball. When was the last time he had done something that was definitely breaking some rules, for fun? Well she wasn’t wrong about him loving food and since he had come all this way and agreed to join her, if he let his personal problems eat at him again and hurt her with his careless behaviour, he’d become even more of an asshole than he already was.

“Sure,” Spencer smiled as he joined Maggie at the fridge, taking stock of the ingredients, “come to think of it I promised to make you something back at the art’s fest didn’t I?” Yet another promise he had carelessly made and nearly forgotten. So much for learning his lesson and never repeating his mistakes. “Let’s see, from the ingredients we could probably make most desserts, cakes, cookies, pies…” Spencer began pulling out basic ingredients they’d need for most desserts, “actually if you don’t mind, could we try making macarons tonight? I’ve always wanted to try my hand at making them.” That wasn’t a lie, but it was only part of the reason. Since it was something he had never made before, the risk of failing was higher but because he wasn’t familiar with the recipe and given the oft spoken of difficulty of making macarons, it’d be easier for him to get consumed by the task at hand and forget about everything else. Even if just for a couple of hours.

mood
bake, bake, bake

location
Kitchen

outfit
formal

playing...
WONDER

by Shawn Mendes​

mentions
Beth

interactions
Maggie

tags
Kitsune2202

º º code by ditto º º

 

[AkuTheWolfOkami]

Remi P. Michel

Thank you Honey. You look magnificent, truly awe-inspiring.

Maybe there was hope that things were normal if her response was any indication. He needed normal for once. Nothing in his romantic life was ever normal. Whether it was with Nickie or Luci, and had not been that way with Amy.

Same here. I've missed you. I feel like we haven't talked in ages.

They hadn’t spoken in a while, had they? It was mostly check ins and check ups today, the usual thing you did when you were dating someone, and they were busy. It wasn’t like they were avoiding each other, was it? It was just mainly a case of she was with someone else. Though, admittedly, things had been a little awkward leading up to this moment.

I think I can spare more than just one. I'd much rather be your Evangeline. Cinderella only has till midnight.

Evangeline? He felt like he should know that reference, especially if it was something Amy referred to often. He thought about it for a moment before deciding that it didn’t really matter because he understood what she was saying. As they moved to the dance floor he picked through his mind and tried to find the last time he danced with someone. More so romantically than anything.

Shall we?

When she moved her arms around his neck, he made sure to make sure his hands were around her waist, resting them on the small of her back. There was a peace that surged through him that kept his mind very calm and took a slow breath. He had a lot going on in his life and it was nice to take a moment to just relax and spend peaceful time with someone he cares about.

There was a certain visage he had to maintain with the lifestyle he chose. He had to be liked by everyone and get along with them to advance himself in his career field. Connections were the best way to get ahead and though he knew it was unrealistic to get everyone to like him he still worked hard towards that.

So every second with Amy when they weren’t at odds, was a moment he cherished. One of the few times he felt like he didn’t have to be on where he could just be himself.

He got lost for a moment and forgot all of his trouble and struggles, and just danced close with Amy like nothing else in the world mattered.

playing...
Int'l Players Anthem

by UGK, Outkast

clothes for the collab

Kitsune2202 ish a collab
mentions mentions mentions

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ditto]

nickie abrams.

Slater’s answer was an unenthused mumble: “Yeah, sure.” As he pushed the door open and stepped outside, Nickie’s hopeful grin pulled into a relieved smile. He turned around, and she met his eyes for a moment. “I gotta go,” he said, smiling, “but I’ll…text you.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, smiling as he slammed the door shut. She watched him pull a cigarette out of his pocket and studied his retreating figure with a mix of a sort of admiration and wonder in her eyes, all beneath a drug-enduced dazedness.

It was stupid and entirely unrealistic, given…everything, including everything that she knew about Slater and his current state and the general consensus of guys like him on the matter of girls like her, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of hope that he would turn around and come back — that something in him would compel him to act out of whorish character for once and come and pay her some company. She knew he probably had other places to be — better places to be. Somewhere alone, smoking, enjoying his time away from a nagging, chattery…

A lonely feeling crawled in through the knee-bouncing, heart-pounding haze that was beginning to subside. It started to seep into her muscles, pulling her forward and downward.

His figure was gone out of sight for a few minutes before she sighed. He wasn’t coming back.

After a moment, she remembered that Liv was gone, too, probably somewhere doing something else. She’d left Nickie her keys for a reason.

No one was coming to get her.

A knot twisted in her stomach, and she felt the urge to vomit. Breathing another sigh and clenching her jaw, she muttered, “Oh, fuck off, Nickie. Seriously?”

After all of that effort to lose this sinking feeling, there was no way she was just going to let herself ruin it again.

Reaching forward, she plucked the baggie off of the center console.

Fuck it.

……………………​

Sometime, Nickie got home. Sometime, her fingers found her phone. Sometime, they changed her Twitter username from “nickie abrams ” to “nickie abrams ”. Sometime, she sat up, looked at herself in the mirror, and laughed at her reflection — just goodheartedly laughed at how fucked she looked.

Sometime, she wound up in bed, laying on the sheets because she couldn’t sit still for long enough to sleep. Sometime, she stared at the ceiling, her heart throbbing with a sort of strange, high empty feeling — a feeling where she was aware of how much her life fucking sucked but where she didn’t care, where she was aware of what she’d just done and she just didn’t give a shit.

And somehow, she wound up asleep.

Thus went Nickie’s night.

mood
...

location
her home

outfit
red dress

playing...
normal

by nickie.​

mentions
liv

interactions
slater

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ditto]

MICHAEL K. REID​

Mike pressed a hand over his mouth, unable to fully stifle his laughter as the girl beside him began to hack wildly from a sip of the alcohol. Yeah, he didn’t need her to tell him that she was one of those no-drug rally fanatics to know that she was — she was coughing like she was fucking dying over a single sip of diluted, shit-tasting liquor. Looked like he already had her pegged. He gave a little nod to her hacking. “It’s really shit, yeah?” he chuckled in agreement. As she continued, though, he raised a brow in mild concern, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. “You good there?”

“Sorry,” she apologized, her voice still strained from the whole choking fit she’d just had. “Just wasn’t ready for the burning aftertaste.”

Chuckling as he took the flask back and lifted it to his lips to down his own sip, Mike gave her a grin. “Yeah, I dunno what they put in that shit.” He tipped up the flask and grimaced slightly at the small sip as it went down his throat before screwing on the cap and tossing it at his center console. “Besides that they put a lot of water in theirs,” he added with a slight chuckle.

With a curious look, he glanced over at her again, awaiting her answer to his question. Not that he cared what she’d say, really. If you hadn’t picked it up by now, Mike did most of what he did for his own enjoyment, and — ding, ding, ding, you guessed it, lucky winner number seven — this conversation was no different. If you were looking for points on your Asshole Bingo chart, Conversation With a Hot Girl Pretty Much Just Because the Girl is Hot was right beneath DIY-ing Your Sophomore Date’s Corsage Because Corsages Are Too Goddamn Expensive and right between Ditching Your Date and Banging the Girl Who Wanted to Be Your Date’s Date and Getting Drunk in the Parking Lot Knowing that You Have to Drive Your Date Home. Admittedly, though, he was mildly curious.

“Okay, well maybe that’s not just it,” the girl finally answered, her eyes lifting up to him. She bit her lip, breathing out slowly. Hot. “I, uh…I’m just not sure.”

“Not sure?” He leaned back against the door, his elbow propping itself up on the side of the door once more. “Messy situation or something?”

“My…friend is waiting for me inside,” she answered. The hesitation meant that no, whoever it was was probably not just her friend. Probably her crush or something, or her date, even. “You saw her when we met earlier.” If he had, it hadn’t registered that he did — his mind had only really etched this girl into his memory because, well, she was hotter than average, ya know, and, yeah, his Neandarathalian brain was a fan of that. “And I told her I needed some air. So maybe I should get back to her…”

“Get back to her?” he asked, a brow raising.

As the girl trailed off in an uncertain voice, her gaze moved away from him and fell to her lap, where her thumbs twiddled.

Mike chuckled. There was no way she wanted to go in there again. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic, babe,” he chuckled sarcastically.

The girl looked up at him again. “My name’s Tilly, by the way,” she blurted. “When we met earlier, I didn’t get the chance to tell you. It’s Tilly. Short for Matilda. You can call me Matilda if you want, but Tilly’s fine too…”

“Tilly?” he repeated with a soft chuckle. “Cute name, matches the vibe you’ve got goin’, babe. Don’t hear that one often, though…”

He trailed off when he noticed the frozen sort of look in her eyes. “Heh.” He shook his head slightly, giving her a grin. He leaned over to run a thumb along her jaw, half-teasingly. “Don’t look so tense,” he chuckled. “Ball’s about havin’ fun, babe.”

His words didn’t seem to work, and drunkenly, he chuckled again. “Here…” His hand slipped to her cheek, turning her head toward him. His eyes glanced at her lips, trailing up to her eyes. He grinned at her for a moment, brushing a stand of hair out of the way. Softly, he slurred. “Let me help.”

And, leaning in slowly, Mike, of course, brought his lips to hers.

mood
; )

location
the parking lot

outfit
i'm fucking sexy.

playing...
drunk face

by machine gun kelly​

mentions
beth, landon, & gen

interactions
tilly

tags
natsukashii

º º code by ditto º º

 

[0k_mang0]

MOOD: the hec?

OUTFIT:
navy blue boy
​

INFO

LOCATION:
the ballroom, then somewhere else

WITH: chanel

MENTION: cami, ash, gen, eli​

ACTIVITY

Soap

TAGS

cappie

— So Close

Cappie didn’t regularly go on dates. Friend-dates were typical for him, but they don’t happen very often since most of his friends tend to be busy with their own stuff. Also, he’d always end up hanging with large groups.

Tonight was the first time where it was just him and his date. Him and Chanel. He didn’t have to hang out with his other friends.

Despite the terrible spiked punch that made him scrunch his face in skepticism and have water instead, his time with Chanel was far was going quite pleasant. Probably better than that. The Jammie Dodgers were delicious.

While Chanel mentioned how her aunt bribed her with Jammie Dodgers as a kid, Cappie noted, in silent amusement, her conscious way of eating the cookie and how not a single crumb on her dress or anywhere else. Honestly, Cappie wouldn’t mind any other way she eats. He didn’t even notice her blushing; she was wearing make-up, so he couldn’t tell.

He hadn’t noticed how close they were to each other until their hands touched lightly. Chanel reacted before he could.

“I—… have to go freshen up so, I’ll… be… Back… yeah. I’ll be back.”

“Oh. Okay, I’ll still be… right here, waiting,” he finished half-awkwardly as she walked away, unsure if she heard him or not. It might be his imagination, but her steps looked almost hastened. Weird, he thought in confusion, a small frown nudging his lips downward. Maybe he should’ve given her a little more space sooner.

Eating a couple of bites of the slice of vanilla-cinnamon cheesecake that kept him company, and quietly reconsidering how date-like his date with Chanel had been so far, Cappie saw an average-looking, light-haired HA senior walking up to him.

“Yo, dude,” said the random dude, “you’re the guy everyone calls Cappie, right?”

“I hope that’s the only thing everyone calls me.” They exchanged pleasant greetings, shaking each other’s hands, and stood side by side next to the snack table. Cappie forgot the senior’s name later on, but let’s call him Stan. Not a “stan”, just Stan.

So, Stan approached Cappie because he recognized him from his YouTube channel—Captain Bust Productions, because he made stunt reels but also other things like acting reels from small roles, original skits, some videography stuff and occasional vlogs; he had to start somewhere if he wants to be a filmmaker. Outwardly, Cappie stayed composed, though internally, he was jumping with joy. He rarely met fans—actually, he never met a fan outside the Internet until now. A 40,000+ subscriber count was decent, but it could only get him so far despite his best friends occasionally sharing his videos on their social media accounts. There were so many channels using misleading clickbait titles and exaggerated, choppy thumbnails, whereas Cappie tried being practical and clever without being deceptive and more obnoxious than usual.

Lately, however, he’d gained a miraculous amount of traction in the last few weeks. That 40K subscribers bumped to nearly 400K and some of his videos were getting twice as many views. Maybe YouTube’s algorithm was finally turning in his favor and he wasn’t sure how because it’s still weird and confusing. His recorded art fest video was a big hit, which was really surprising because it was a 10-minute play based on a Robert Frost poem. Art Fest was a pretty popular Hollywood Arts event, so he supposed it made sense.

In fact, that’s what Stan the fan wanted to talk about.

“I saw your Art Fest vid hitting one million views. Congrats, bro!” He gave him an energetic pat on the shoulder with a bit too much energy—Cappie nearly dropped his cheesecake, but he didn’t mind much. The fact that someone finally recognized his work was more important than a little pat.

Until Stan added, “So, uh… how’d you do it?”

“Well, we used the dialogues from the poem–”

“Nah, man. I mean, how’d you get her to work with you? She’s super famous, right?” Cappie felt a tiny prickly tingle crept along the back of his neck. Not wanting to jump to a conclusion, he asked Stan what exactly he meant. “Me and my pals, we were just wondering how you convinced her. You guys are pretty close, so… what’d you do? Offered something good? Did you, like, give it to her in the sack–?

“Whoa, hey,” Cappie interjected as reasonably as possible. “Don’t talk about my friend in that way. Please.” Stan said sorry, but he sounded a little disappointed and not sorry at all. This was uncomfortably and annoyingly reminding him of the time he recently became friends with Ash West and the Johannes twins—middle school classmate used to tempt him with false friendship and gifts if he’d just tell them any scandalous deets, and he always said he won’t tell them shit.

Then, there was last Sunday afternoon, at a local cafe. He met with an interviewer who asked him what’s it like to work with Chanel; the interviewer looked visibly disappointed by his affable, simple answer. The next several questions became a little too suspicious and personal—not about Cappie, but the Clairmont family. Cappie ended it early after five minutes in.

I came here today because this interview was supposed to be about me. I never agreed to gossip about my friends.

And then the interviewer told him, Well, that’s unfair. You’re making it sound like I misled you. Kinda egotistical, don’t ya think? Cappie forced himself to walk out. Oh, he wished he could’ve slapped off this sleazeball’s mouth right there if it meant not causing a scene.

Like he wanted to do right now to Stan.

“Don’t get me wrong, bro,” Stan drawled. “I’m not judging you or anything. I’m just saying what I told my friends, like, what you did was fuckin’ smart as hell. Using a big name like Chanel’s—it always attracts more views, y’know? And you’re here as her date, too. That's more attention for you. Genius.”

So, that’s what it was about, Cappie realized. Stan and his buddies had the chutzpah to assume his intentions, and incorrectly, too.

“I’m kinda distracting her from worrying about her sister tonight,” Cappie said stoically, gently stabbing the last chunk of his cheesecake crust with his small fork. “Seriously. I just want Chanel to have fun at the ball. Nothing else.”

Before he could tell Stan it was best for him to walk away now, Chanel reappeared.

And she looked pissed.

It was like a hailstorm suddenly blew in. His brain was lagging from registering all of her words in her verbal barrage. None of them seemed to make sense. It didn’t help him that people nearby were watching them, but he pieced together a few keywords and it dawned on him.

Oh shit. He never told her about uploading their art fest video. He fucking forgot. But somehow, this was more just about the video.

Chanel took 3 or 4 steps away from him. Tossing aside his mostly-finished cheesecake plate on the table, Cappie dashed towards her, hooked his arm around hers before she made the fifth step, and, ignoring the onlookers, led her out of the ballroom. They quickly shuffled down a hallway with fewer people, and eventually somewhere with nobody in sight until he let her go at an empty dead end.

“Look, I am sorry I forgot to tell you about the video, but I have never lied to you,” Cappie asserted. “And I’m not lying to you now: I’m not using you. I only put your name on the video ‘cuz I was giving you credit for being involved in our project. It’s common fuckin’ courtesy.”

Nearly red-faced with irritation, he stood about four feet in front of her. She accused him of lying, assumed his intentions with the worst.

That hurt him more than it should. If he was scolded or falsely accused by anyone else, he would’ve let it go.

“Wanna know why I thought you wouldn’t understand at art fest?” Cappie asked, his sarcasm seeping out. “Sorry if you haven’t noticed already, but not everyone has rich famous parents to help them live a cushy life like you. Dropping a project ‘cuz of stupid shoulder injury means I lose work—I lost paychecks ‘cuz my agent had to cancel two auditions I was supposed to have this month, and two more projects dropped me for the same reason. I’m not even on a fucking scholarship at this school.”

code by valen t.

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

Heart fluttering was the only way Maeve could describe her time with Felix, that it almost felt like a dream that she didn’t want to wake up. Was this really happening? For sure, it was. After all, her cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. But there was no way she could hide how she felt because, well, just seeing Felix smile just made her heart skip a beat.

Even if she was a student in Hollywood Arts, it still surprised her with the amount of detail that the school put into that kind of event. It was so mesmerizing at the eye that Maeve ever wondered if she would ever see such scenery after she graduated, or would this become her norm of events she would attend after she graduated? Well, she wasn’t completely sure that would happen. But at least she could dream about and believe that one day she would fit into that world.

Maeve let out a small chuckle at Felix’s joke regarding the decoration of the venue.

“I’m sure that minimalistic is not part of the committee in charge of the decoration for the ball.”

The girl replied jokingly. It didn’t take long before the flashes of the cameras blinded her sight. Definitely was unexpected and flattering. It made her feel special and seen in an ocean full of the kids of well-known singers, actors, or producers. She was just hoping she would not end up too awkward in the photos that they would discharge after seeing them. Maeve was sure she would not end up on the first page, but even if she ended up in the smallest post, she would be happy with it.

“We’re totally gonna be on the cover of The New York Times, come mornin’.” Felix said and the girl couldn’t hide her laugh.

“You really dream big. Even if we make it to the smallest tabloid, I’ll still be happy.”

Maeve said. The inside of the ballroom felt almost like the one taken out from a movie, that it left the ballerina with no words to say, “This place looks pretty… what do they say nowadays? Lit?” Felix said, and the girl saw the cringe on him. At least she wasn’t the only one that felt that way, but she would forgive him because he was too cute.

“I have already forgotten about them, but now they are back in my mind after you mention them again, so thank you for the reminder.”

She said jokingly.

“I’ll promise I’ll forget everything you have said so far for the sake of your dignity.”

She replied with a chuckle. Maeve followed Felix to the dance floor and couldn’t hide her laugh at how her date was dancing. To say that it was shocking to see Felix dance wouldn’t be enough to express the amusement of seeing him do a line dance to a song that wasn’t fit for it. But it was quite endearing to see him doing that. Or maybe she found him just too adorable, but one thing that she was sure of was that Felix needed to stay away from musical movies for the sake of his career.

“You really left an impression. I’ll give you that. No need to be on beat with the song.”

She replied with a chuckle. As the music changed to a one with a slower one, Maeve felt giddy about a possible slow dance with Felix. “Shall we dance, Miss Ackerman?” her dare said and her heart skip a beat. Her cheeks tinted of a light color red, and nod with a shy smile. She would not lie she was really expecting it more than anything and now that it was about to happen her heart was about to jump and leave her body, she was only expecting Felix wouldn’t hear it.

Location: winter ball| Mood: heart eyes
Outift: Here | Interactions: felix ( ditto )

Maeve Anneliese Ackerman

Code by Stardust Galaxy​

 

[Soap]

MOOD: ...

OUTFIT:
Flower Dress, very classy, very Nellie.
​

INFO

LOCATION:
winter ball

WITH: Cappie

MENTION: Cami, Eli, Casey, Mik.​

ACTIVITY

0k_mang0

TAGS

Chanel Clairmont

— A Little Bit

He said he’s never lied?

Oh, that alone was a lie if she’s ever heard one!

Chanel was going to throw out the fact that he lied and didn’t tell her about the shoulder injury moments before their performance, but she couldn’t because he brought it up.

Too slow.

“Sorry if you haven’t noticed already, but not everyone has rich famous parents to help them live a cushy life like you. Dropping a project ‘cuz of stupid shoulder injury means I lose work—I lost paychecks ‘cuz my agent had to cancel two auditions I was supposed to have this month, and two more projects dropped me for the same reason. I’m not even on a fucking scholarship at this school.”

Was she supposed to feel bad?

Well, of course Chanel felt for him and all, but that was the exact issue between them.

This is why they’d never work–

Not that she’s thought about it in the first place.

“The fact that you have to throw it in my face like that– says more than you know. It’s not my fault I grew up with a ‘cushy’ life.”

If anything, besides Zoe teaching her what she knew– Chanel absolutely hated using her parents name for anything.

Everything always traced back to them and she didn’t want that.

She wanted none of that!

“But it doesn’t matter to you that I was trying to sympathize with you that night because you’ve already made up your mind about me! You deem me as this… fucking privileged cold-hearted bitch and don’t say that you don’t because I know you do.”

Everyone does.

She’s not saying she wasn’t privileged.

But Chanel has tried– and is still actively trying to make a name for herself and out of her parents’ spotlight.

And…

Just because she keeps everyone else at an arms length, doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.

Chanel cares.

Sometimes a little too much.

“I’ve done nothing else but try and help you, so when I turn around and see you… gaining fucking fame in the matter of a week because my name is on the video– I’m going to be upset! Because I don’t– I didn’t want to see you as someone who’s using me like everyone else does.”

Chanel scoffed, throwing her hands up in defense and fighting the scowl that threatened to appear on her face. She paced around the hallway before coming to a stop in front of him.

“So, no. I’m sorry if you haven’t noticed already, but I don’t trust many people because of that reason. And for a second I just thought you were–”

different.

“God, you’re just so– I never know with you! I can’t understand you, I can’t wrap my head around you, your entire existence doesn’t make sense to me. I can’t fucking figure you out and for the life of me– I don’t think I ever will!”

Chanel took a step closer to him, not caring about the proximity between the two that was getting significantly shorter the more she yelled.

“The compliments, the kindness, the insults–”

No, he hasn’t blatantly insulted her.

(I know he was teasing her. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t know how that works!)

“It doesn’t make sense. You don’t make sense– and it’s…”

Well, spit it out.

Who…

Just fuck it, Chanel. Who gives a shit anymore at this point?

All walls down.

“It’s scary. You scare me.”

code by valen t.

 

[0k_mang0]

MOOD:

OUTFIT:
navy blue boy
​

INFO

LOCATION:
the ballroom, then somewhere else

WITH: chanel

MENTION: ash, gen, eli​

ACTIVITY

Soap

TAGS

cappie

— So Close

Cappie didn’t consider holding back information as lying. Lies are false statements. Every time someone asked him a question, he’d try his best to tell the truth, but sometimes he didn’t want to burden anyone with his troubles so he avoids mentioning certain details. Maybe it was almost like lying, but still.

Unless it’s all just fun and games, Cappie would never want to lie to his friends in any hurtful way.

He didn’t want to hurt Chanel.

Yet, he saw it in her hazel eyes that had the extra bit of soft green and maybe a little gold: she was hurt.

Chanel was right, though. He would’ve contradicted her. He didn’t think of her (or deem her) as a cold-hearted bitch—she was serious and candid, but he didn't see her as anything worse. He never said it was her fault for having a comfortable, easy life. It wasn’t her fault who her parents were. He would’ve told her all of this, but he knew she wouldn’t listen when she was this riled up.

“I’ve done nothing else but try and help you, so when I turn around and see you… gaining fucking fame in the matter of a week because my name is on the video– I’m going to be upset! Because I don’t– I didn’t want to see you as someone who’s using me like everyone else does.”

God, she was so stubborn.

He had never used any of his friend’s fame and fortune for his own gain. He knew it was wrong. All the shame everyone slaps on freeloaders had convinced him not to do anything like that, even if his friend’s offered to help or when he needed it. If someone’s not self-sufficient, shame on them, they’re not good enough for society—it was a sardonic remark Cappie remembered hearing at a New York City homeless shelter, where kindergartener Cap and his mom used to stay for a while. No wonder there were so many cynics.

He never used the money Chanel had lent him to buy food from Postmates. She didn’t know that, since she never asked him whether or not he used her $120.

Then she told him the most unexpected thing: “You scare me.”

What? He slightly faltered for a second. She’s just afraid of not having all the answers and control, right? Cappie wished it was that simple.

“I… I’ve never wanted to scare you.” With furrowed brows, he looked directly at her eyes with uncertain scrutiny, as if trying and failing to find the clearest answers to her complex thoughts, not worried how close they were at this point.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” Cappie said. “I get scared when I’m around you. Not from your personality, I’m okay with it.” Then he added before Chanel could interrupt him, “It’s because… you’re this beautiful, talented actor who doesn’t need her parents or aunt to be successful. Because seeing you makes me feel like pushing myself to be remotely as good as you—because you’re one of the best actors out there, better than anyone I know. You’re even better than your aunt.

“I wasn’t using your name for myself or views, and I’m sorry it looks like it,” he said sincerely, but he still felt kind of stressed. He was just as riled up as her from this whole thing. “I wanted your name on the video because you deserve to have everyone see how amazing you were in it. So, I’m sorry that’s hard for you to believe from one guy who wants to be with just you tonight, but it is the truth.”

His somewhat intense compliments probably wouldn’t mean much to her, he thought. She was Chanel Clairmont, the talented starlet who received praises from her millions of fans on her social media daily. Cappie was just one speck in on this strange, unforgiving giant ball of dirt and water. His own existence didn’t make sense to him either.

So what that he was telling her the truth?

code by valen t.

 

[ditto]

felix rian emmerson

Maeve’s cheek’s reddened, and Felix chuckled slightly. Damn, she’s cute. She really was. Pretty as a picture and cute as a button. With a small smile, she gave him a nod. His grin widenin’, Felix took her hand gently, walkin’ out with her to the polished ballroom floor.

“Gonna be entirely honest, it’s been forever since I last slow danced,” he chuckled, pausin’ for a moment to pull his hand away from hers and fix his tie. “But…” Cockin’ his head slightly, he reached out and carefully placed a hand right beneath her shoulder. He drew in a breath that was shakier than he’d expected — not ‘cuz he was nervous or anything, but…well, maybe he was a little bit. “Here.” He reclasped his other hand with hers, then lifted his eyes back to hers, grinnin’ widely. “’s this feel alright?”

Steppin’ to the left, Felix began to guide Maeve in a slow dance, a bit cautiously at first. Tryin’ to mind where his feet were and where her feet were was a bit difficult, an’ he had to keep glancin’ down to make sure that he wasn’t catching’ her dress or anything. Eventually, though, he managed to find his rhythm with her. Proud of their teamwork, he chuckled, finally lookin’ up to Maeve’s face with a beamin’ grin.

And you know…this close, he could see so much more detail in her glitterin’ eyes. They reflected the light as though they had a constellation of stars caught inside of them, and he found himself losin’ track of the words of the song or, hell, even where his body was goin’ in favor of tryin’ to make out what all exactly her eyes reminded him of. He’d never thought of it before, but they really did look like the blue waters of a clear ocean or the sky above a green grass field on a bright, sunny day.

But no…those didn’t really capture what exactly they looked like. He just…couldn’t explain it. They were simply beautiful.

And so was the rest of her face. The curves of her cheeks, the freckles dottin’ her skin, the smile on her face…he was probably starin’ too hard, but she was…

“You’re…stunning,” he breathed with a soft chuckle, unable to keep his thoughts in his head.

As the music swelled behind them, it registered with Felix that his body had grown much closer with Maeve’s over the course of the song. He chuckled, his grin spreadin’ wider as his pulse drummed in his veins.

He was so close to her. He could feel her body heat, could practically hear her heartbeat, and he was sure he could hear hers. Cool as he may have been, the nerves that had been present in the back of his mind were rampin’ up, but so was somethin’ else as his eyes trailed down to her lips — a confidence that dared him to do exactly what he was thinkin’.

Slowin’ his movements as the beat of the song slowed, Felix felt himself bein’ drawn even closer to Maeve. Lookin’ back into her eyes, he felt his pulse ramp up in his chest.

Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her.

As he leaned in, the noise behind him suddenly disappeared. Abruptly, he became aware that the music had stopped.

With a soft chuckle, he pulled back, breakin’ eye contact with Maeve as he dropped his hands. He felt a slight heat comin’ onto his face — a rare occurrence with him — and he tried to keep his face away from her as he rubbed his neck and chuckled, “Well, then…”

What was that, Felix?

“Whew,” he said, startin’ back toward the spot at the side that they’d been standin’ at before, tryin’ to diffuse the tension in his muscles. By the time they’d come to a stop where they’d been, though, he realized, yeah, no, there was no way he was composed enough to move on from that. Sparin’ another glance over at Maeve, Felix breathed out another chuckle. “Hey, I, uh…I’m pretty thirsty, actually. An’ I bet you are too.” He pointed with his thumbs over toward one of the refreshment tables. “I’m goin’ to go get us somethin’ to drink. Be back in a sec.”

Startin’ off toward the punch table, Felix’s grin dropped off of his face. His hormones were ragin'. Get ahold of yourself, bud. Before tonight, sure, he’d flirted with Maeve, but there’d been nothin’ like that, and now…they’d had a moment like that, ya know. Put all kinds of thoughts in his head…

But you know…one particular thought occurred to him. Just a quick little one as he was scoopin’ up some punch for him and his date. Not really anything that would stand out to him normally. A quick little internal chuckle accompanied by a what if that he’d usually just think was pretty amusin’ and move on from, ya know? ‘cept this time, it just kind of…stuck around.

See, the last relationship he’d gotten into had started from a Ball date, too, and it’d been a helluva lotta fun while it’d lasted, ya know? It was nice, in a way. To have someone beautiful on his arm who he could rely on. Someone to spend time with, hold an’ kiss an’ talk about a future that you never plan on havin’ with them with.

And so, a what if cropped up from that. And even as he finished scoopin’ up her cup, he couldn’t clear it from his mind.

But honestly…what did he have to lose?

As he came back to Maeve, he held out one of the cups for her. “Here ya are,” he said chipperly, givin’ her his usual grin as he brought his own cup up to sip. For a moment, he just stared at her, studyin’ her posture and, damn, how she looked in that dress.

Yeah. Yeah, he was goin’ to do this.

“Hey, Maeve…,” he started slowly, his eyes driftin’ out to the crowd. “This might seem…kinda outta the blue, but…heh, well.” His gaze moved back to her. “I mean, I think I’ve established I think you’re pretty damn cute, and pretty damn sweet, and pretty damn…well, great, in general. And tonight…well, tonight just kinda reminded me of that, and also made me think that, hey, I want more stuff like this with you, ya know? Moments like that one we just had on the dance floor. Moments, ya know…close to you.”

The nerves were back. He wasn’t scared to ask, it just…he couldn’t really explain it.

Reachin’ up, Felix rubbed the back of his neck. He puffed out his cheeks, then slowly blew out the air with a long sigh. “Guess what I’m askin’ is…” He looked back at Maeve, an apprehensive, hopeful grin on his face. “You wanna be my girlfriend?”

mood
well?

location
the ball

outfit
you belong with me-e-eee you belong with me

playing...
take a slice

by glass animals​

mentions
maggie

interactions
maeve

tags
Stardust Galaxy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[mogy]

Oates Oates
"Stop talking, Oates."

@Oates has set their status to:
Rambling. Again.

@Oates has set their outfit to:
A shirt and some jeans.

@Oates has set their location to:
Blue dance studio.

@Oates has mentioned:
Callum

@Mogy has mentioned:
hery ​

There was an undertone to the conversation happening, one not completely obvious to the curly-haired boy. Back home, he was taught everyone would respect the golden rule; that everyone would treat others the way they want to be treated. Reason enough not to doubt the mysterious boy’s tone of voice when he said all the things he did.


During every word the other spoke, the smile on Oates’ face remained as evident as it ever was, and cause missing for it not to be. He got accustomed to this room by now, even if he only danced inside of it once, maybe twice if one considered a lazy half-done pirouette dancing. This was the room he would see the other boy in, and during those short encounters, the four walls and ceiling metamorphosized into beauty. The caterpillar of a room copied the butterflies inside his stomach. The lights were daydreams, the shiny floors hope, and everything else was just the two of them, even if it never lasted longer than five minutes.


"You don't look like you'd be good at art. You should try debate. You seem like you like to hear yourself talk." The other spoke, nonchalantly, barely caring. But likewise, the curly-haired boy didn’t exactly have his focus on the words spoken either. Instead, he looked at the other’s face; the way light retraced and interacted with his slightly sweaty cheeks; his pointy nose; the way his eyebrows were uneven but quite nice to look at; his lips, the only thing with saturation on the other’s face. The other’s eyes remained the only mystery, as Oates never quite could catch a glimpse of them, what from the other never looking up, what from everything else being more than enough for Oates.


But it was true, curly-haired boy did enjoy speaking, and hearing himself speak. At the end of the day, he was from Healdsburg, the friendliest town in the state, and there wasn’t a single person who didn’t like social people, right?


After all, minutes passed without Oates having said a word, and that was a record. But the other was more important than the urge to speak, or, well, he was—while he stood there and let the curly-haired boy look at him and observe him like a sculpture in a museum. It didn’t matter how many words were said, or if any were, because this was a rare, five-minute moment.


And five minutes were nearing their end.


The conversation undertone shifted, and the other admitted to not knowing the curly-haired boy’s name. It was a bit surprising, the fact, and Oates stood in place, eyes following the other as he walked away to the door. At the end of the day, how would the other know his name? They never talked about themselves no matter how much Oates tried to steer the conversation into that direction.


It was when Callum asked about being late that the curly-haired boy shook out of his confusion. “It’s Oates.” He shuffled to the doorway quickly, like a kid running out of school. The other was waiting for him, and there was no way that he would miss this opportunity.


“And yes, I was just about to ask you to walk to class together.” He smiled, letting the other go out of the studio first, and he would follow like a true gentleman that he was.


The hallways were not brimming with students, but it wasn’t as empty as it had been whenever it was that Oates entered the studio. There was a bubble around the two boys, however, and for the shorter one, that bubble had been soundproof—all he could hear were the other boy’s words that never actually came out.


And the silence wasn’t the most comfortable feeling for Oates, so he spoke.


“I’ve gotta be honest. I’ve seen you in class, and you dance so well. How long have you been dancing? Like, I, myself, danced since I was six, but never quite so professionally until Hollywood Arts. Oh my god, are you even from California?” Again, rambling was his go-to move. “Now that I think about it, you really don’t come off like you’re from California. You look exotic. Well not exotic. Well different. I’m not insulting you, please don’t think that, haha.”

º º code by ditto º º [/bord

 

[KingofAesir]

Addison MacKenzie

There was something unequivocally boring about how the back and forth between Addison MacKenzie and her parents worked. It was monotonous, but quick and oh so very stuck in the MacKenzie family routine. Addison was bored of it. Bored of her mother’s high pitched tone and her father’s condescending manner. She was late to the ball, her fathers insistence on family dinner before he and her mother had to attend some ridiculous charity event for a charity that Addi was sure didn’t exist. White collar crime, isn’t that fun? So she sat silent while her parents ate and was immediately gone the second that they’d finished. Up the marble stairs, past the useless empty rooms and into her sanctum, a red dress hung from her closet door. This one she’d bought without her mother looming over her shoulder and was a far cry from her usual attire. The neckline plunged far below her chest, nearly reaching her belly button and the slit in the leg traveled far enough that the imagination was easily fed. Red lace half gloves looped around her middle finger and covered most of her forearm. Her parents would hate it. It was perfect.

Her feet found a home in black spaghetti heels that made her a good few inches taller and would no doubt make her feet ache. It didn’t matter though, she was determined to crawl her way under her mothers snake skin so she would suffer the pain. The only thing that would be on her mother’s mind their entire fake charity event would be Addi and her image ruining clothing and it would almost assuredly ruin her and her father’s night. The smooth wood of the banister was cool under Addison’s hand as she made her way down the stairs, now fully dressed and made. Alistair was at the bottom of the steps, fidgeting with a monogrammed cuff pin on his wrist. A click of Addison’s heel on the marble caused him to look up from his task. The neutral set of his face fell into a deep frown immediately upon beholding her.

“Addison Beth, you are not intending to attend the ball in that ridiculous get up.” Addison matched the twitch in his jaw and continued her way down the stairs. When she reached him, she took two hands and straightened out the lapels of his jacket while he continued to stare at her.

“You sound like my mother when you speak like that.” She spoke, even-toned, “I wish you wouldn’t pick up her habits, it makes you both sound terribly unoriginal.” Addison smoothed out the front of his suit jacket and stepped away, “Have a lovely time at your charity event, Father.” The sound of a gasp from behind her told her that her mother had arrived, “You too, Mom.” With that, she spun rigidly on her heel and marched out the door, the angry calls of her parents receding behind her. She was already in her car and gone by the time the both of them made it out to the driveway. The grin on her face was uncharacteristically wide. Small victories.

She’d been at the ball maybe ten minutes, standing off to the side, arms folded behind her, watching the others flit about. A tornado in red was making her way through the crowd, scaring off all the other similarly dressed girls with words she could only asume were sharp. Addison’s eyes followed her to every girl, one after another they all fled, purses clutched to their chests. Efficient and quick to the point, it wasn’t long before the tornado had reached Addison. She started with a veiled compliment before she moved into her real purpose for even approaching Addison.

"But like, did you purposely choose something that washed you out this much? And did you ask a monkey to do your makeup because my god, it's rough." The grin that had already been on Addi’s face grew and a short laugh blew through her nose.

“Your insults are the genius of a middle schooler.” Addison turned her eyes away from the other girl, letting them fall back onto the crowd. “Hilarious, original. Is it the same one you used on the rest of the girls you ran off? Those kinds of insults only work on people whose confidence is already a pit, unfortunately.” The music switched abruptly to a piano lead melody that could be used easily for a waltz. Addison’s eyes found purchase in the other girl's soft blues and she offered a stoic hand.

“Would you care to dance? Maybe you’ll find some other insult for me.”

mood
amused

location
the ballroom

outfit
see bad desription

playing...
Arabella

by Arctic Monkeys​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Adrianne

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Zeph Evermore

There was something off about Stella's behavior tonight, but not off enough that Zeph would be caught saying something. Besides, it wasn't really all that weird, was it? Stella was fun, and she could be fun, but it felt so weird to have her trying to be... well, not telling him. Just wanting to go out somewhere in their stuffy suit and dress, and well, didn't her feet hurt from the heels? Why would she want to stay in them?

But Zeph didn't really question it -- he liked the idea of a surprise, so it just followed after Stella as they got an Uber, and it took off. And no matter how much guessing he tried to do about where they were going, Stella kept her lips sealed. Of course, it didn't take too long for them to get where they were going and when they arrived, well... it was a nice surprise.

Venice Boardwalk, a place that Zeph had never really visited too many times. Well, the only time he'd really been down here was when his dad and sisters had come out to help him get settled in. He'd visited with them, and actually had a nice day at the beach, and that memory brought a warm smile to his face.

What? Zeph missed his family -- a lot. Sure, he loved going to school out here and having the idea of his dream dangling right there in front of him, but... sometimes he wished that his dream could be pursued while he was still close to home. There was nothing easy about moving halfway across the world.

Zeph shook his rather somber feelings back, though, as he walked with Stella. He smiled down at her as she started to speak -- or, rather, sing out her version of Do You Want To Build a Snowman? His smile pressed into a wider grin, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

"Really?" He asked, an eyebrow quirking up in a confused look as he took her free hand in his. "You want to... in these clothes?" He chuckled, bringing his free, casted hand up to fiddle with his suit. Well, plus there was the whole cast ordeal. Could he get sand on it or no?

"I mean, yeah, yeah, I'm down."

He chuckled again, holding back the comment of just a little bit odd that you're suggesting this.

mood
chill

location
the ballroom

outfit
snazzy. classy. very handsome.

playing...
Uh Oh

by Junior Doctor​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Stella

tags
Kitsune2202

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Kalida Davies

As they walked, Rowan had only taken a couple swigs of vodka, but Kalida had taken... taken more than a couple. Now, she was not really a lightweight, and kind of prided herself on how much alcohol she could consume -- although she still wasn't like a uhh... a heavyweight of drinking. Yeah. That's what it was called.

So by her sixth-ish swig, she was starting to feel it. She smacked her lips together, holding the bottle out in front of her as she tried to read the fine print, but squinting wasn't really helping with the mixture of darkness that covered everything around them and also the way her eyes were kinda going criss-crossy.

Pine... apple... on... pizza...

That's what Rowan was asking.

"My favorite," she mumbled, letting out a giggle as she brought the bottle back up to her lips for another swig. By now, their wandering had taken the pair into a park. Her eyebrows had drawn together as she looked around, and then Kalida came to a stop, her hand with the bottle falling to her side. "Dude... dude, I don't think there's uhh... there's no pizza here," she said, as if that were some kind of revolutionary idea.

Of course, as she turned back around, she found Rowan had taken off for the nearest tree and was struggling to try and pull herself up. For a moment, Kalida just blinked and blinked in Rowan's direction, as if trying to truly register what her friend was doing, but then it hit her. That Rowan was trying to climb the tree, and that Rowan clearly needed help.

"Ro, lemme help," she said and wobbled her way over. She tried to place the vodka bottle down on the ground beside her, but her placement was a little off, and the bottle fell over. With a quiet string of curses under her breath, Kalida picked the bottle back up and placed it down once more. She pointed a finger at it. "Stay," she ordered the bottle and once she was convinced it would listen, she straightened back up.

Okay, help Rowan.

"Aight, okay, just... here lemme just..." Kalida grunted as she grabbed Rowan's leg and kinda pushed up, and then her hand was pushing on Rowan's butt to try and get her friend into the tree, but at some point, well... she must've lost her footing, or Rowan lost their grip, because suddenly--

Kalida was on the ground, the air was knocked out of her lungs, and Rowan was on top of her.

"Ah, fuck," she groaned, sitting up as much as Rowan's body across hers would allow.

mood
hype

location
she doesn't know LA

outfit
clothes

playing...
Five Past Ten

by Blair​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Rowan

tags
qunqun

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Adriane Holloway

There wasn't really any kind of expression that crossed Adriane's face when the girl before her refused to fall to her knees in tears and run away as every other single girl had done. Instead, the only real emotion that was seen on the model's pretty face were her eyebrows drawing slightly together, her arms crossing her chest as she leaned on one hip. Of course, even that bit of emotion was quickly washed away, replaced by her deadpan expression.

Wrinkles, remember? She was consistently worried with her professional appearance.

She couldn't believe this girl had the audacity not only refuse to flinch or leave following Adriane's words, but to actually ask her to dance. What kind of vibe was Adriane giving off that made it seem as if she was out here to cheerfully make friends and spin around in stupid circles?

Adriane hoped that the girl in front of her could feel the daggers that were shooting out of her eyes.

She pressed her tongue against her teeth, contemplating her answer. It would've been so easy to say no, give some other sharp remark, and then march off to find Dalton and tell him that they were leaving -- but that would be allowing this little fake bitch in front of her to think she'd won.

Now you see, that was something that Adriane Holloway could never allow. No, she would never allow for some random bitch with shitty makeup and a knockoff version of her amazing dress to win whatever... whatever this was. So the cold look dissipated, or as much as it could, and her lips pressed into a faint, still rather chilly smile.

"Oh, I'd love to," she responded, tone dripping with unnecessary venom as she uncrossed her arms. One hand reached up to brush her hair back over her shoulders as she turned, leading the way towards the dance floor but making no move to touch the girl beside her. "If your dance moves are half as hideous as that dress of yours, I suppose I'll at least be entertained." Well, and probably made a mockery of if any cameras happened to catch her.

She would just brush it off as this being some kind of charity case. Perhaps spin it that the girl beside her was unwanted and bullied -- something along those lines -- and Adriane had simply been trying to extend an olive branch, but the girl happened to be a creepy bitch, so the olive branch was retracted.

As they made it to the middle of the dance floor (so Adriane's association with the other girl was mostly hidden from view), she turned towards her as the music started to slow down.

"Well?" She asked, and gestured for Addison to lead. "Let's see those dance moves."

mood
ugh

location
the ballroom, unfortunately

outfit
red

playing...
Confident

by Demi Lovato​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Addie

tags
KingofAesir

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: wifey

OUTFIT: gold

LOCATION: ball

basics

MENTIONS:
Kelli, Bella, Zeph

INT:
natsukashii (Hunter)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Veronica Crosby

The state of quietude between the two was highly unnatural, something of which Ronnie would only recognize posthumously. She had bigger fish to fry than to lay out her opinions on Hollywood Arts' hottest couples, as much as the urge never left her. She was an opportunist at heart, a truth her father scrawled beneath "Veronica" on her birth certificate.

Like clockwork, the hand that grazed Hunter's chest tightened its grip with newfound resolve, clutching a spot in the singer's shirt. As a sign of romantic confirmation, a hand raised to squeeze hers, prying it off of his chest and interlocking between her fingers. His palms were unsurprisingly dry; Sweaty palms were a sign of weakness, whether by genetics or not. It demonstrated confidence in a man, a fine detail Ronnie was elated to confirm.

The small redhead pulled away at last, lamenting the loss of Hunter's plush lips against her own. Hopefully with this, at least, there would be more to come. Whatever they were now, Ronnie had free access to a boy in the upper echelons of her hot man list. That was more than enough.

What's more, he hardly gave a verbal reaction to her indirect admission. He wasn't too into her, but he was definitely interested... it was exactly how the little romance novel in her head imagined things. Could this get any hotter? It was a story for the books, a passionate tale to be regaled to the girls and her mom in depth.

With a coy giggle, she smirked, meeting the eternally-serious eyes of her date. Well, that went well, didn't it? It seemed so, especially given the renewed energy between the two that just couldn't be denied. Finally, I was beginning to think my last kiss would be Zeph forever, her wandering mind impulsively thought to say, but she wisely bit her tongue.

Ronnie stood up, holding her delicate hand out like a princess. "Whisk me away, stud." She still had a dance or two in her. Only this time, the love songs would take on a whole new meaning for the two of them.

The clock was far from midnight yet.

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

MOOD: hm

OUTFIT: suit

LOCATION: ball

basics

MENTIONS:
Bella
INT:
Winona (Casey)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Chas Marino

Inside, Chas smirked. Not because he was happy to hear of Casey and Bella's time together going south, but because he'd gotten the answers he wanted without having to explicitly ask the daft boy. Otherwise, the admission tugged at his heart. How many times did Chas have to stunt the happiness of the only people in the world who cared about him? No amount of distancing ever kept him from being anything but a burden. It was a miserable existence.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said quietly, deeply ashamed of the mess he'd caused. Casey pled the case that it didn't phase him and that he wasn't into the girl and while the latter may or may not have been true, he was definitely perturbed to some degree.

Calling him a liar was out of the question. What good would that do? Still, it would be emotionally careless to just let it go. Everything was a standstill. "Regardless of whether that's true or not..." He met Casey's eyes with the most conviction he'd shown the entire night as some sort of an effort to reclaim the situation. "I do care about you. I always have. Not romantically, like..."

He chuckled at thought. How's that for absurd? "Ever. But you've never called me a prick or argued with me even when I deserved it. Which is rare, of course, but still." Now the air became more dense, resting heavily on the shorter boy's head and shoulders. "I mean to say I appreciate what you've done for me. People don't realize I'm not evil. Or that some people have to deal with scary, controlling parents that pressure them into things."

Did he just admit to calling his mom scary? That was probably the biggest reveal of the night, in all honesty. "But it's easier knowing I'm doing it with you." He smiled, his left cheek swelling with the tug of his one-sided grin.

"Ya wanna get outta here?" Casey finally offered. Chas breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, let's go. I'm getting sick of looking at these tacky department store dresses."

Even after that, the two didn't move. The night's admissions were fresh, sinking into their skin at a bitterly slow rate.

Eventually, Chas did set off out the door, Casey by his side. The cool night air wrapped around his cheeks, smacking him square in the face. "I need french fries," he stated tiredly, tone breathy and indicative of his weariness brought about by the night they had.

"Forget the after-ball post. I really just want to change into a hoodie, park somewhere, and—" Talk. "—count all the nightcrawlers filming stupid shit on Hollywood Boulevard." It could be an easy night. No cameras, just two seventeen-year-old kids dressed up as on-the-rise celebrities doing nothing, because it was easier to simply hide from all that was obligated of them. Chas owed Casey at least that much of a high school experience.

code by valen t.

 

[dear.szmm]

lezz go bitches

lillian kimura

Rox was a stunner. Downright gorgeous. Lillian would be lying if she said she didn’t take great pleasure and pride in having a girl like her on her arm. She quietly enjoyed the over-the-shoulder glances of ogle-eyed boys, frantically turning in their steps to get one proper look at the dark-haired girl as she graced down the street. She was a head turner if nothing else. The way she commanded an online career; commanded a hoard of fans that only wanted to see her. Fuck a computer screen or online message board; Lillian, smugly, had the real thing, and most importantly, all to herself.

“You sure you don’t want to just watch a movie in bed?” asked Rox, appearing in the living room.

It’s not like Lillian hadn’t considered it. Some days and nights were better made for smoking a bowl, ordering in, and crashing out in front of a TV. How much she would love to spend the evening with Rox in her arms, running her fingers through her hair and peppering her porcelain skin with kisses; but the Ball tonight was one event Lillian couldn’t skip out on. The way she saw it, it was a business opportunity for them both. The paparazzi would snap a few pictures and they’d surely get some notice from their new classmates. If they wanted to succeed, they needed to make themselves visible. Present. They needed to be seen.

“Tempting…” Lillian murmured, watching her girlfriend approach. God, how much she wanted to ruin that make up. She leaned out, grabbed Rox’s waist, and pulled the girl close to her. She smirked, letting her eyes search her face a moment, beholding the woman in front of her. Rox was home. She was comfort, she was joy, she was sex, she was reassurance, she was everything. They either succeeded together or didn’t succeed at all.

“…but I really think we should go. I think it’ll be good for us. And I’m curious about our new schoolmates. I just… think it would be wise to get a head start.”

Could it be?! Ever-so breezy and confident Lily was floundering?!

It was true; in fact, Lillian had probably never been so concerned about her future. Her new place at Hollywood Arts meant new competition. New rivalries. New opportunities to push her career and confirm a recording contract. Everything had to go the way she had planned it; she couldn’t afford another slip up like Central Juvenile Hall. No. More. Fucking. Around.

“C’mon,” she said, pressing her lips to Rox’s. “We better make a move.”

• .
• .
• .

• outfit
• location

  
  

  home
• tags

  @WinterBarry (Rox)

coded by reveriee.

 

[natsukashii]

Tilly Phoenix

Everything was fine it wasn’t until Tilly felt Mike run his thumb along the front of her jaw and just under her lips. The moment that happened, her heart was like a continuous spree of thunder just hitting and beating against her chest. It more than threatened to break free, but by some force of God, it would.

Or at least she felt like it would.

“Don’t look so tense,” she heard him say, Mike’s voice breaking through the wall of panic and almost-hyperventilation that might’ve happened had nothing else happened.

She kept looking at him, fixating on his face, his eyes, his flawless skin, the way he grinned at her that still somehow looked like the smirk that had originally caught her attention.

She didn’t say anything even though there was probably a mountain-sized list of things she could say. None of them made it out of the jumbled mess that was her brain, of course. But they were there.

Tilly was like putty in Mike’s literal hands and that’s why it made it so easy for him to turn her completely to him. She had been looking at him from a side glance but now they were face to face. She heard him speak but she couldn’t quite hear what he said. Maybe he said it so low that she couldn’t make it out, but all she knew was that every voice in her head that was screaming at her was silenced when he touched her cheek.

Those thoughts were gone. Her panic was completely gone. Even though her heartbeat couldn’t stop itself from making things just a little uncomfortable, Tilly wasn’t in a bad way inside. It was like finally being able to not hear what she always considered to be her voices of reason and just focus on his face was almost liberating.

And then he closed the gap between them.

And then it got smaller.

Smaller…smaller.

And it happened all in a flash. She blinked with her eyes wide open. She didn’t know if she was too stunned to react to his lips pressed against hers or if it was the fact that…maybe that’s why she didn’t leave. Somewhere inside her soul, maybe this was what she wanted the minute they met? Tilly didn’t know.

But she couldn’t break away. She closed her eyes, her shoulders relaxed. A few seconds passed, which to her felt like they were an eternity and a half per. She let her mind relax too, but then the image of Kayla flashed in front of her. Or maybe it was something else. She knew she saw Kayla’s face and…

She pulled away. Slowly. Reluctantly. She backed away only to find that her back was pressed against the window and the window crank poked at her side. “S..sorry. That…that was…” She struggled to find the words. More than that, Tilly had no words for what just happened. It was incredible and shocking and amazing. No words did it justice nor explained what she was thinking.

She looked at Mike for a few moments, biting her lip and just…she had to get out of here. She really had to get out of here. She needed to get back to Kayla. She…

“I’m really sorry. I..should get back to my date…” She offered Mike an apologetic look. “T..thank you for…y-yeah. Bye…”

She stuttered her way out of Mike’s car. She still couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything other than walk back inside the ballroom. Tilly’s priority was to focus on Kayla and maybe…no, not maybe! She had focus on her date, make sure that she had fun with Kayla and that Kayla had fun.

And even as she came back, finding Kayla still at their table, in the back of her mind, Tilly couldn’t completely erase the fact that she enjoyed that kiss way more than she let on. In the back of her mind,there might even be a part of her that wants to do it again.

And that thought was what truly frightened her the most.

“Hey! Sorry I took so long. I just…had to clear my head. I hope you weren’t waiting on me too long,” she said to Kayla as she took her seat at the table.

mood
Tilly exe stopped responding

location
Parking Lot (inside Mike's Car) → Ballroom

outfit
Bashful in Pink

playing...
my ted talk

by mxmtoon​

mentions
Mike, Kayla

interactions
Mike, Kayla

tags
ditto @AkiTheWolfOkami

º º code by ditto º º

[/s]

 

[geminiy]

Kian Phelan

@lockandkian has set their status to:
the floor here is made of floor

@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
depression and self-loathing

@lockandkian has set their location to:
home

@lockandkian has mentioned:
n/a

@lockandkian has interacted with:
Auguste

@lockandkian has tagged:
qunqun

Auguste’s lips were moving but honestly, Kian could hear the oversized dancer man’s voice. Just a moving mouth and the humm of a French accent in his ears.

Kian had handed Auguste his car keys with the intention of the dude driving him and his beloved bucket of rust home. Clearly the dude had other ideas because there he was, one toned arm (incredibly toned, like seriously toned, dude was hella built for someone so graceful) wrapped around his back and another around his leg, carefully hoisting him into bridal position before his brain could even keep up with what was happening.

One second the floor had been there.

The next minute, it was gone.

Kian did his best not to scream.

“Aug, buddy, w-where’s the, uh, ya know…” Kian stuttered, feet kicking out slightly, “the floor? Why is it so far away?”

Over Auguste’s shoulder, Kian tilted his chin slightly to look down at the ground. Bad, bad, baaaaad idea. Kian was approximately eight or nine feet in the air, floating there as if Auguste was some wizard and Kian was his useless little experiment floating in the centre of his overly creepy wizard tower. Was this a bad time to say that he really wasn’t a fan of heights?

Distraction, he needed to distract himself. So, as they strutted along out the door of the ballroom and down a rather ominous looking alleyway, Kian politely began to humm before eventually breaking out into full song. “Heeeere comes the briiiiide, all dressed in whiiiiiiite.”

Night was never Kian’s favourite time of day; way too dark and too quiet with too many places to hide and too many people searching for the vulnerable. It was too easy to walk down a wrong path after the sun sank, too easy to avoid the people and places that plagued the day. Kian had never liked when he played late shows before arriving at Hollywood Arts, he always felt far too uncomfortable in the aftermath to feel safe. Instead, he often found himself in alleyways like this one, covered in garbage and filth.

Next thing the musician knew, he was sitting on the ground while Auguste typed frantically at his phone, eyes wandering past the dumpsters and brick. They were out back behind the ballroom, a few streets over. Some of the panic began to subside. Even in his high, the glowing neon ‘Open’ sign on a convenience store was enough to orient him. At least they weren’t totally lost.

“Mon frere, ehm, where-where do you… live…” Auguste asked, his strong arms lifting Kian up off of the ground like a ragdoll, feet swinging under his body until they managed to stick and off the pair went.

“It’s uhhhhhhhhhh not far from here.” Kian grumbled, clinging to Auguste’s hand as a safety line. He was certain if he let go, he’d fall over and the dude would just leave him. What a great way to get mugged. “I probably could have walked, Augmeister, but I wanted to look nice and like I don’t get to dress up very often. But I ripped my suit jacket so now I just look dumb.” Kian sighed.

Why were his legs so heavy?

Kian took a pace forward and wrapped both of his arms around Auguste’s hand and bicep in a pitiful attempt to stay standing. Somehow, it worked.

“You have a very large step, bro. Like mooooonster wide.” Kian paused, gasping slightly as he looked up to the boy beside him. “Bro are you like,” his voice lowered as his eyes darted left to right, “are you a Bigfoot? Because like if you are, I won’t tell. Your secret? Yeah, it’s totally safe with me, Foot Man.”

Foot Man? Yeah, this was going to be a long night.

✩══════════════════✩​

Eventually, Auguste managed to guide Kian, who had been falling asleep nearly the whole walk home, up the stairs, into the elevator, and eventually into the apartment he shared with Javi. As soon as the door swung open to hit them with the full young bachelor glory, Kian’s face lit up. He quickly let go of Auguste’s arm and rushed inside, fumbling in the darkness for a lightswitch.

“Weeeelcome to my humble abodeeeee, Augmeister. Palace of hella kings, bro.” Kian spoke through the darkness, grinning as he found the lightswitch and flicked it on. Electricity buzzed as Kian, who had decided that he was more than ready for bed, pulled off his dress shirt and whipped it across his living room. “Come innn bro, take a load off or somethin’. We’re actually a lot cleaner than we LOO-”

SMACK!

There went Kian, flying across his living room in a jumble of limbs and dress shirt fabric still stuck on his foot from the mighty slip. With a harsh thud, his body met the carpeted floor.

“Ow FUCK dude.” Kian grumbled, flopping over onto his back to look up at the ceiling. His bones ached, muscles exhausted, eyelids drooping shut. With the final bit of energy he could muster, Kian looked over at Auguste and smiled. “The floor here is not so bad, Augmeister.”

Without another word, Kian’s eyelids shut and he passed out cold.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Isabella Dupont

@bellaissima has set their status to:
no, no, no

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

@bellaissima has set their location to:
Jackie's truck

@bellaissima has mentioned:
Casey

@bellaissima has interacted with:
Avery, Jackie

@bellaissima has tagged:
Xed

Everything was okay somehow. The longer Bella sat with Avery, fingers gracefully interlocked and the air between them comfortably silent, the more the pain began to dull. Instead of the icy grip of total isolation and abandonment, Avery brought her a sense of warmth and company that Bella really hadn’t anticipated receiving from anyone.

A large part of Bella felt horribly guilty for all of this. Winter Ball was supposed to be some spectacle filled with twinkling lights and beautiful dresses and dancing until your feet hurt from dancing the night away in all too tight heels. This, crying in a hallway over a pathetic broken heart, was not supposed to happen. Roping someone in, someone so kind and patient and selfless, was also not part of the plan. Avery was supposed to be out having fun, not stuck with her on the floor.

Jackie would be there to pick her up soon enough, then it would all be over.

On the other hand, Avery chose to stay. He had every opportunity to up and leave, Bella had even promised she wouldn’t be mad. Yet there he remained loyally by her side, never once pushing or prying for information he was not entitled to. Instead, he remained quiet, holding her as she cried her stupid tears and silently comforted her through the pain. Bella wasn’t entirely sure when the last time someone had done that for her, outside of her sister. It was… nice.

Bella wasn’t entirely sure what happened next. When she looked up at him, cheek still resting against his shoulder, she couldn’t help the smile on her lips. Bella didn’t notice how limited the space between them had gotten until Avery’s lips brushed against her own.

Avery’s lips on Bella’s.

Immediately she pulled back, shocked by her own response to the touch. Avery did the same, leaving the two heavy breathed and staring at one another. Beneath floral fabric and flesh and bone, her heart was pounding away inside her chest, the fingers that had been laced with Avery’s on her lap tightening slightly at the contact.

What the hell was that?

One minute Avery had been comforting her and the next he had kissed her. It was entirely out of left field, an action that had Bella’s mind spinning at one hundred miles an hour trying to figure out why he had just done what he did. Perhaps the more question remained at the forefront of Bella’s mind.

She had been in so much pain over some random boy, someone she had been thinking about non-stop. So why did that kiss, as simple and quick as it was, feel so damn right?

Bella wasted no time scrambling to her feet, hands subconsciously smoothing out the floral fabric of her dress while she wobbled slightly on her heels.

This wasn’t right, this couldn’t be happening. Bella would have normally been mad at Avery’s sudden decision to kiss her, but all she could think about was the warmth of his touch and how comforting it felt to be next to him, hand in hand against the rest of the stupid ugly world. A pang of guilt gnawed at the inside of Bella’s abdomen.

“I-I am sorry.” Bella rushed, eyes still wide and heart still racing. “My, um, my sister, she is here. To, um, pick me up. She is here to pick me up.” Bella cringed slightly at her own words. Right, as if she hadn’t made that obvious before. “I, um, I have to go, Avery.”

Instinctively, Bella’s arms opened for a hug as she so often did when saying goodbye, pairing the interaction with a friendly kiss on each cheek. But something felt wrong about touching him again. So instead, her arms fell back to her hips before snaking around her own torso, hugging her torso and creating a barrier between herself and the boy in front of her.

Avery wasn’t truly the person she wanted to be kissing, was he? No matter how nice he felt, how inviting his lips were, Avery wasn’t the person that Bella had wanted. And if he wasn’t truly the attention Bella had been seeking, she was simply using him, the very boy that had sacrificed his night to stay with her.

Typical Bella; once a user, always a fucking user.

“Goodbye, Avery.” Bella whispered before rushing past him and out the doors into the cool night air.

Jackie’s truck was nowhere to be found. With the nervous energy still bouncing around inside of her, Bella simply walked and walked, feet carrying her down the pavement in the direction she thought was home. It wasn’t until Jackie pulled up beside her in her truck, worried lines creasing her elegant face, that Bella even considered stopping.

“Isabella, get in.” Jackie’s comforting voice spoke through the rolled down window. Doing as directed, Bella forced her feet to stop and turned towards the truck, swinging the door open and hopping inside the cab. "Bells? What's wrong?"

Bella couldn't will herself to speak. There would be plenty of time later to speak. So, in the safe embrace of the vehicle and under the watchful eye of her sister, Bella looked over to Jackie and, for the second time that evening, began to cry.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[qunqun]

MOOD:
Ugh.

OUTFIT:
Emo Fancy

LOCATION:
Kian's house

basics

MENTIONS:




INT:
Kian geminiy

tags

TL;DR: Night night, son.

tl;dr

Auguste

To summarize this night’s events: Auguste was quite nearly roped into breaking someone’s nose via excited dancing with Ez. He managed to escape that frying pan right into the fire that was “whoever this fuckwad was and trying to get him home safely.”

So.

Hooray. Living the American dream right now.

“Now I just look dumb.”

“.... Vous avez stupid.” Auguste muttered under his breath. “Vous n'avez besoin d'aucune aide là-bas.”

You are stupid. You don’t need any help there.

Kian didn’t seem the type to understand French anyways. A couple of biting remarks here and there would never hurt anybody… He said that to appease his conscience at least-

Oh, merde.

Kian nearly fell trying to stand up.

Auguste grabbed his armpit again to right him once more. Suddenly he didn’t feel nearly as bad for badmouthing him in a foreign language to his face.

He silently stared down at Kian as more garbled words came out of Kian’s mouth. What the fuck was Bigfoo- y’know what he could just ask Ez later. It didn’t matter. He made the wise choice to not question Kian about his comparison.

Somehow - through sheer force of will and Auguste practically dragging Kian like a ragdoll with an iron grip - they made it to Kian’s place.

Auguste had to dodge out of the way of a dress shirt flying at his face. Please no. Keep your sweaty ass motherfucking shirt out of his eyes please.

“Palace of hella kings, bro.”

“... you know what the French do to our royalty, correct?” Another little snide remark slipping out as Augsute removed his latch on Kian. He thought he deserved it, quite frankly. He’d walked across town with the fucker on his arm.

Kian’d asked to go get ice cream twice (read: tried to run across a busy intersection shouting “ICE CREAM!!!” and Auguste just barely tightened his grip in time to not have him run off).

Nearly ran into the path of a bicycle who shouted very angry slurs at the two of them.

Auguste was fucking over it by this point, this close to just abandoning the little bitch in the street gutter multiple times in the course of the walk. But then he’d gotten a good look at Kian, and the lucky bastard had reminded Auguste just enough of a lost sad dog with mangy fur and big sad eyes that he’d felt bad for the idea of just leaving him.

Even if the mutt’s bark was getting fucking annoying as shit.

And then Auguste made the horrible mistake of letting go and taking his eyes off of Kian for one fucking second and then all the sudden.

SMACK!

“Mon frere?!” He whirled back around, for once allowing the panic to filter into his voice. And then Auguste was staring at the dead asleep Kian.

He stared at Kian.

Kian’s peaceful expression stared back.

Images swam before Auguste’s eyes of a different time because suddenly Kian was covered in blood and Auguste’s hands were a fucking mess and it was all his fault it was all his fault what’d he done what’d-

Kian began to snore.

The images from the past filtered away as quickly as they’d come.

He took a deep breath. Alright. This wasn’t France. This was LA, and he was dealing with a high off his rocker piece of shit.

Okay.

He stepped over and gently cradled Kian once more. It was a lot easier to do this when he wasn’t squirming and freaking out. He laid Kian underneath the covers and gently tucked him in.

He stared at Kian’s slumbering face, trying to process everything that’d happened.

Despite his frustrated grumblings, this was definitely a bonding experience - a night as a new father and all that.

Auguste kissed his three middle fingertips, and pressed them against Kian’s forehead.

There, there, son. It’ll be better in the morning.

Auguste turned off the lights as he left, and made sure to lock the door handle behind him.

Alright. Time to-

Oh fuck he’d left his bike at the school.

code by valen t.

 

[a z u l a]

RYDER VAUGHN

The winter ball was the perfect place for Ryder to finally let loose, not that he hadn't been partying the entire school year already. He didn't mind dressing up, it gave him an excuse to post a few more pics on his insta feed. He hadn't brought a date because it might give off the wrong impression, Ryder always made it abundantly clear that he was single. Nothing screamed single more than showing up to the dance with your freak of a sister.

Twenty minutes in and he was already bored. The Vaughns had arrived late and he was grateful for that, it meant less time he had to waste here. The after party was where the real fun would be at, and Ryder could find someone to terrorize until then.

He'd left the ballroom to sneak back out to his car, where a bottle of cheap cherry flavored vodka was waiting for him, something he'd conveniently forgotten to tell Alaska on the ride over. The top popped loudly in the near empty parking lot and Ryder took a swig, making a face as it slithered down his throat and flushed his stomach with heat. Might as well pre-game since he had nothing else to do.

It was possible he could sneak the bottle back in and share it, but he'd brought a big bottle instead of a flask and he wasn't quite sure how that would work. Ryder was leaned up against the side of the building, debating the consequences of bringing the bottle in and taking a sip every so often to keep himself warm, when a mixture between a laugh and a cry caught his attention.

He looked up to find Ash in front of him, tears soaking her pretty face as she approached him. It wasn't like he knew her, not really, but everyone at Hollywood Arts knew Ash, or at least one of her many ex boyfriends.

His eyebrow twitched upward as she called him the nickname he had forcefully beat people into not speaking ever again, wondering if maybe Ash was already drunk, or just a bitch.

"Cute to see you here, are you like... too bad boy to actually, like, go into the dance? Or I bet your date, like... found someone could last longer, yeah?"

"Funny." He remarked, though his eyes didn't light up the way they did when someone told a joke that was actually funny. Moving across the country and earning the nickname Minuteman at your new school wasn't exactly what Ryder had planned for his junior year, but he'd made the best of it thus far.

Ash looked absolutely fucking unhinged as she asked for the bottle hanging between his fingers, and he lifted an eyebrow as he assessed her under his less than impressed gaze.

"You're gonna call me Minuteman and then beg me for alcohol?" He laughed, though it wasn't filled with any sort of humor. It wasn't an unusual request, girls coming to him or Slutter for alcohol and drugs wasn't anything new, but usually they played the game, the give and take. Ash was a lot of things, but honest was something he could work with.

Briefly, he considered shattering the bottle on the concrete just to spite her, but she looked like a kicked puppy and he couldn't tell her no, mostly for fear that she might kill him with that look in her eyes. Besides, he'd been on the bad end of a break up once before and he could sympathize, if only a little bit.

"Fine. Only if you can tell me what my actual name is." He said, shoving the bottle in her direction and leaning back against his spot on the wall, looking towards the door where a few people were starting to make their early exits.

"Break up with another asshat?" Ryder asked, partly out of spite and partly because he was a nosy gossip. There wasn't really any other explanation for the tears and disheveled gown.

mood
bored and annoyed.

location
the parking lot outside the ball

outfit
cool guys wear blue

playing...
golden boy

by bryce fox​

mentions
Damien

interactions
Ash

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West

There was a brief moment where she expected him to laugh in her face or whatever, and she figured she probably deserved that, and honestly... it wouldn't even be the worst thing that had happened tonight. If that happened, Ash figured she'd just go in, or just like, call an Uber and leave, but she didn't really want to go home yet, so like... whatever, she'd figure it out. She somehow always did, anyway.

But instead of retracting the bottle, laughing in her face... okay, well, he did laugh, but he also held out the bottle to her. A breath of relief escaped her lips as she took the bottle from him, mumbling a small "thanks," before wasting no more time in bringing the bottle up to her lips.

Vodka. Perfect. The familiar burn provided some sense of relief to her.

"You're gonna call me Minuteman and then beg me for alcohol?" He said, which like, yeah duh. "Fine. Only if you can tell me what my actual name is."

Ash rolled her eyes as she moved beside him and heavily leaned back against the wall. "Minuteman's not your name?" she asked sarcastically, a smile flicking across her face for a moment before falling again. She looked at the bottle of vodka, then took another sip -- because hey, the more you sipped of it, the better it tasted, and hey, the better she'd feel. Duh. That's how it worked. Trust her.

She held the bottle out to him. "You're, umm... you're Ryder, that dude that Gen said smells, like, cheap cologne and desperation or whatever," she said. Sure, there was more to that particular statement, but Ash decided to withhold the rest of it -- you know, the part of it that was somehow worse than that first part.

"Break up with another asshat?" Ryder asked.

"Yeah," Ash responded before she could really think about what she was saying. Shit. Fuck. See the only thing worse about admitting to a breakup was admitting to a breakup that was from a relationship that had been a secret. She looked up at him, her expression growing serious for a minute. "But no one knows -- like, not about the breakup, the whole... the whole relationship, so don't like... I don't know, just don't say anything. Or else."

There was really no bite or backing to her or else, but hey, she figured it might... help keep him quiet or something.

"We got in a fight over, like... just same stuff. He always thought I was gonna cheat on him or whatever, and I dunno..." she shrugged her shoulders, her gaze trailing absently back to the ground in front of them. "I got tired of it, and he like blocked me on everything, so..." another shrug, "fuck him, I guess. He wasn't really worth it."

If he wasn't really worth it, then why did Ash feel so hollow inside when she talked about him?

"Sorry, too much," she said, her gaze moving back to his face. "Why are you out here? Couldn't find anyone that wanted to be your date? Can't say I'd blame them -- like, imagine wanting to be caught with Minuteman."

mood
.....

location
the Ball

outfit
purple

playing...
Boys Ain't Shit

by saygrace​

mentions
Trevor

interactions
Ryder

tags
a z u l a

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Kitsune2202]

"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:
Venice Beach

@Steller.Bae has mentioned:
Lin

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

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Once they arrived Stella felt instantly better. One because they were finally here and she was excited, but also because she is terrible at keeping secrets from Zeph even something as small as this. So that was a very difficult car ride. That's why earlier in the year she avoided him when she didn't know how to talk to him about their awkward little situation and the whole thing with the pictures. She couldn't and wouldn't lie to him or keep her inner thoughts from spilling out.

A trait she'd normally hate if it was anyone else but him.

The beach turned out to be slightly chilly, though that was to be expected in the middle of the night in December even if they were in LA. It crossed her mind briefly that maybe just maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Too bad they were here now and she would have to roll with it. The curse of being reckless right? Must mean she's doing it right if she's having any regrets.

One look at the smile that appeared on Zeph's face though melted that regret. She took that to mean he liked the surprise and so that made it worth it. Right? His smile was worth possibly waking up with a cold in the morning. It's not like she had plans tomorrow so it was fine...

As they walked and he began to reply to her it seemed like he was a tad skeptical. With their clothes, his cast, the sand, and all that jazz which she totally understood. THIS sounded a lot more like her Zeph then who he'd sounded like the last month. Practical, a bit cautious, logical, but still open-minded, and kind. He was down to have fun of course, just making sure she was sure of it and things would be ok. It made her feel warm in side realizing that. Feeling like he was really back and maybe the last couple months really were a thing of the past.

"Yah...it'll be fine. It's just clothes after all. Memories are better." She chimed in her usual confident tone knowing any waver would ring an alarm for him if her hesitation didn't already.

She meant it about the memories being the best part...but she also couldn't deny the fact she really liked this dress. She convinced herself it was for the best since it wasn't like she could ever wear it to another major event, that'd be a fashion no-no. So if it had to out out of style it might as well go out in style with a sweet memory attached.

"Perfect." She replied as he finally relented like she knew he ultimately would.

She was a bit surprised he was hesitant at all still. Even if it did feel like this was more the side of him she was used to seeing, building sandcastles alone seemed like something he'd like to do regardless. Especially if she already promised the clothes would be fine. Maybe after everything with Lin he was being even more cautious then usual?

She walked backwards towards the shoreline with a warm smile on her lips, "Think of it as if we are in some random music video. It doesn't have to make sense, just be spontaneous and fun!" She spilled admitting just a bit of why she was doing this. "Like those videos of teens being crazy at the mall or in an empty school, jumping into the pools and stuff." She rambled a bit trying to cover her tracks.

Once Stella made it to the shoreline she tossed her heels to the side a bit and did a little hop into into the freezing cold water and shirking instantly at the bitter bite backing up a bit before laughing and giving him an apologetic look, "Uh...ignore that just happened. I was just. I mean I knew it would be cold, just one sec." That was dumb, nope channeling too much Linergy in that movement.

She took a deep breath and tried again while trying to steel her feeling. This time going much slower, and only dipping her toes in one at a time so her feet could kinda get used to the water before looking back at him, "I'd say come in the water is fine, but you know that'd be a lie." She giggled before bending down and scooping some of the water and walking back to him, "Plus we need a little water right? And we probably shouldn't get your cast too wet." She asked curiously because...truth be told she's never actually build a sand castle before. Played in the sand a bit? Yes, but built something more then a hill? No.

º º code by ditto º º