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

[geminiy]

Charlie Howell

@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
fancy seeing you here

@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
sunflowers & denim

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
the roof

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
amy & jo

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
weed man

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
ditto

Charlie seriously considered not going to lock-in at all. Most of her friends were going but if she was honest, Charlie had little desire to talk to any of them. The night of Halloween had left a bad taste in her mouth for the remainder of the week that no amount of studying or practicing could get rid of. Late sleepless nights were met with overly early mornings as Charlie did her best to avoid Trevor, their text conversation playing over and over in her mind whenever they briefly crossed paths.

The two friends had hardly said a word to each other. Hell, Charlie had barely said a word to anyone outside of her teachers or her classmates asking for help with homework. As the week progressed, the dark circles deepend under her eyes and class became a prime napping time slot. She found herself spending more time in the library and the studio, most of her waking hours working on school and her music.

By the time the Saturday of lock-in rolled around, Charlie just wanted to crash in her bed and sleep the weekend away. All of her roommates were going to be gone for the night meaning that for the first time in over a week, Charlie had the opportunity to actually cook a meal and hang out in her living room without having to worry about running into Trevor and causing problems. But then she saw everyone packing up and hearing the group chats abuzz with excitement about the event. So, her weekend plans went right out the window.

Charlie had arrived fashionably late, backpack slung over one shoulder while her spare hand wrestled with her guitar case. Charlie had promised herself that she would have fun at some point that night but she had to get some work done too. Besides, what sparked creativity quite like being in a school full of people after hours? Tossing her things into a lone classroom, Charlie pulled her denim jacket over her shoulders and grabbed her guitar case and journal.

Most of the good quiet spots were filled with people already, her lateness forcing her to climb up the three floors only to not be able to find a spot. Finally, she stopped in front of the doors to the roof, pushing them open with her hip and stepping out into the night air. Charlie had spent time on the roof each lock-in since freshman year, most of the time with her friends to escape the crowds below. Most people didn’t even know that they kept the roof unlocked during the day which, in retrospect, seemed incredibly unsafe (especially during a lock-in that featured hoards of drunk teenagers).

Heading over to a far corner, Charlie placed her guitar down and slid down a brick wall to the ground. Her body was completely hidden by a large water tank to her left that still had her name and Amy’s name scraped into the painting, the only visible parts of her being her shoes and the edge of her guitar case. Perfectly hidden, just as she liked it. Popping open her guitar case, she carefully pulled the instrument from its case and opened her journal to her newest song.

Charlie softly hummed the melody of the song to herself as she tuned the guitar with nimble fingers, occasionally plucking the strings one by one until they sounded perfect. After a few minor edits to the words she had written down before she left the apartment, Charlie moved to strum her guitar. The sound of the squeaking metal door caught her attention, causing Charlie to pause suddenly. Was there someone else on the roof?

Refraining from playing, Charlie set her guitar down carefully beside her and peeked around the water tank. An instant plume of smoke drifted her way, carrying an oh-so-familiar scent. Blinking a few times, Charlie leaned a bit forwards and frowned as she got to her feet, guitar in hand as she prepared to leave.

“What are you doing here? Couldn’t last five minutes without smoking, huh?”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Ezra Gray

@EZGoing has set their status to:
Mood

@EZGoing has set their outfit to:
dilf energy, probably

@EZGoing has set their location to:
the school parking lot

@EZGoing has mentioned:
tori, spencer, alex, chas

@EZGoing has interacted with:
auguste

@EZGoing has tagged:
qunqun

Catching up with Tori had been lovely if Ezra kept the fact that he had forgotten her name a handful of times. Look, the poor guy just sucked with names, okay? Everything else about her and what she had been saying was imprinted in his memory just fine but her name just wasn’t sticking for some reason, so he decided that Nineteen would just have to do.

Most of the lock-in had been spent with Tori, filling in the gaps caused by so much lost time. The interaction would have been awkward if it wasn’t for the sound of his car radio filling the silence whenever it fell. Tori was a lovely girl, she really was, and Ezra enjoyed spending time with her. But catching up with her after so long apart felt strange. Sure, they had a prior connection, but they had only known each other for a few weeks before Ezra and Spencer had returned to New Zealand. How does someone catch up with another person when, realistically, they were still getting to know each other when he departed?

It was also difficult for Ezra to answer the questions about why he left and what he had been doing. He, of course, had designed himself a lengthy story about why he had left (financial hardship, their parents’ business had gone sideways and Hollywood Arts was just too difficult to afford without making the situation worse) and what he had been doing while he was gone (working on his art, of course, what else would an artist be doing in his spare time?) and why he had returned. All he could hope was that Spencer wasn’t about to start telling everyone the truth. The very last thing Ezra wanted people to know was that the true reason they had left was because their baby sister had almost died, that wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs.

The following weeks were rather bland, days spent in school while his evenings were spent planning elaborate pieces for the upcoming Art Fest. Ezra was hardly interested in working with anyone other than himself, other people were far too controlling and manipulative. However, somehow Ezra found himself agreeing to work for Alex on her film the day after lock-in. How he was convinced to help was indiscernible but honestly, Ezra was sort of looking forward to working on a big project. Plus, hanging around and seeing his skills on Chas in person was certain to be entertaining all on its own.

Ezra spent a fair amount of time prior to the date of filming looking over the notes that he had been sent and drawing up design concepts, spending many late nights in the small office space of the apartment that he shared with Spencer. Ezra had convinced himself that, once again, he had taken on far too much work. That was Ezra though: taking on more than he could chew just so he didn’t have the opportunity to stop.

The day of filming eventually rolled around, leading Ezra to arrive at school early with a large mug of coffee in hand. Leaning back against his car, Ezra looked through his notes and design concepts as he watched the sun crest the glistening Los Angeles skyline ahead. It wasn’t until a tall, dark haired figure interrupted his line of sight that he was pulled from his thoughts.

“Hey!” Ezra called out, whistling sharply in greeting as he leaned further back into the car. “You’re blocking my light here, Auguste. And to think you weren’t even going to say hello to me.” Ezra pressed his hand to his chest in feigned pain, smirk tugging the dimples out onto his pale cheeks. “I’m hurt, friend, I really am.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Genevieve Johannes

@genjohanne has set their status to:
boss bitch

@genjohanne has set their outfit to:
satin beauty

@genjohanne has set their location to:
the dressing room @ art fest

@genjohanne has mentioned:
Landon, Liv, Evie

@genjohanne has interacted with:
Mike & Jared

@genjohanne has tagged:
ditto & Kitsune2202

Gen couldn’t understand what was going on between her and Mike. After their lips pulled apart, Gen’s mind had begun reeling with the implications of her actions, panic setting deep within her stomach. She tried to hide the manic look on her face to save Mike the awkwardness of the situation but, by the look he gave her right back, it was clear that both people knew that their kiss hadn’t been just some empty, emotion fuelled action. There was meaning behind it, unspoken and previously unaddressed feelings behind it, and clearly neither one of them was ready to confess.

All she had wanted not but ten minutes ago was for things to go back to normal. Now, she’s gone and made everything so much worse.

Mike was not the sort of person Gen found herself attracted to on anything more than a purely physical level. He was hot, anyone with eyes could tell that, and the way he was with Gen made their compatibility crystal clear. They were friends who pissed each other off and then angrily fucked in weird places, their relationship was nothing more than that.

That kiss was clearly way more than that, both Gen and Mike knew it.

Gen wasn’t ready to admit to anyone but herself that maybe Mike was more than a friend or even someone to warm her bed. For some strange, undecipherable reason, Gen felt like admitting her feelings would be admitting defeat, like she was going to be letting down that facade she had worked so hard to keep up. She regularly promised herself that the people she hooked up with were not people she would ever have feelings for. Then there goes Mike throwing that entire fucking mantra out the damn window.

There was also a level of guilt associated with feeling anything besides the norm towards Mike. Mike wasn’t the only person Gen had feelings for, simply the newest addition to the long list of people that could easily ruin her fucking life through her vulnerability. He wasn’t as important to her as Landon and neither boy was more important to her than Liv. Perhaps Landon got closest to getting Gen to feel what she did with Liv. Hell, maybe things would have actually gone somewhere with them if it wasn’t for the massive fuckup that occurred during lock-in.

No, Mike would never be Landon. Landon would never be Liv but he could get close. At the end of the day, no one would ever be Liv besides Liv. At least the world must’ve been getting a kick out of Gen’s emotional turmoil. Take the girl that Gen was still in love with and push her away, take the only person who ever came close and throw him into a pool of drama, take the last person and make him impossible to deal with.

Who knew Gen’s life would have such a flair for the dramatics?

“Nah. ’s fine.”

Gen bit her tongue. No, it was definitely not fine, nothing about this situation was fucking fine. She had just kissed Mike, like really fucking kissed him, and the two had basically all but plainly said that there was far more than friendship between them. What about that was fine to Mike?

“Speaking of what we should do now, we should really get work. Not much time left for us to just be throwing it away, huh?” Mike spoke through the awkward silence, though Gen couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Had the camera on the tripod always been so fascinating? No, but anything but Mike was good enough to capture her attention in the moment. “Y’know, babe, lunch’s almost done, daylight’s wastin’, and you and I’ve got some serious shit to do. Either we haul ass, or they'll haul our asses offstage.”

Forcing a half-hearted laugh out of herself, Gen walked over to the rack and pulled off the outfit she had tailored for Mike. Placing it in his arms with as little physical contact as possible, Gen grabbed her own dress and made her way towards the door to the change room.

“Yeah… work.” Play it cool, Gen, just let it go. “Let’s get to it, shall we?”

──────────── ❖ ────────────​

The school day was supposed to have been a write-off. No more stupid emotions, no more feeling things towards Mike, no more letting her thoughts rule her. Gen was over it, over everything.

She wasn’t going to wait around for Evie to forgive her because ultimately, Gen knew she never would.

She was done feeling hurt over Liv. If Liv wanted to do drugs instead of have a relationship with Gen, fuck her and just let her do it.

She was done avoiding Landon and forcing the rift between her and one of the few people she had left to grow because her best… ex-best friend was pissed off at her about it.

She was done pretending that there wasn’t something between her and Mike.

Genevieve Johannes was fucking done.

After the school day, things had started returning to normal. The more time that passed, the more calm Gen began to feel. The disgusted eyes stopped following her in the halls, people stopped whispering as they passed her by, her friends stopped asking her how she was doing. People were back to viewing Gen as the normal, heartless bitch that they had before. Most of the time Gen would hate being forgotten and ignored but this time she couldn’t be happier.

Spending time with Landon became easier and she stopped feeling guilty about keeping him as a friend. She also stopped feeling guilty for having feelings for both him and Mike. It wasn’t like she could control things and at the end of the day, Gen knew that she’d have Landon regardless of her current standing with Mike, so what the fuck did it matter?

Being around Mike also seemed to get a bit easier at first. The first few times they spoke after the impromptu work period during lunch a few weeks prior had been tense. Rightfully so, in Gen’s opinion, since there was a lot left unsaid between them. But eventually, they started hooking up again and spending the night and falling back into that familiar rhythm.

No, Gen wasn’t about to admit that the sex felt different. No, Gen wasn’t about to admit that their hangouts were starting to feel a lot like dates instead of two friends simply spending time with each other. No, Gen wasn’t about to admit that things had definitely changed between her and Mike… Not yet, anyways.

Eventually, between all the late nights and the long work hours and the bossing Mike and Jared around, the Winter Arts Fest showed up. The trio had been done with the costumes and the photoshoots with time to spare, leaving them lots of extra practice time to get the timing and the projections just right. By the time the day of the performance rolled around, Gen considered their entire performance near perfect.

Would you really expect anything else from three of the finest students in the plastics department?

“Jared, come here. Your collar is all bunched up in the back.” Gen demanded in the dressing room, twirling her finger so that the taller boy would turn around. Reaching up to fix the collar, Gen smoothed out the shoulders of Jared’s jacket and pushed his shoulders so that he was turning in front of her. “Yeah, that’s better. Don’t you dare get this dirty, I’ll have your damn head.”

Gen had gotten to the dressing room early to hand steam and press their outfits before getting her hair and makeup done. Now she was running around the dressing room in a blue satin robe attempting to shove her earrings into place and trying to round up her partners to get them ready. Being seniors with a rather large performance, they were the second group of the morning and they needed to be perfect. Most people would find that pressure immense but not Gen. No, this was her favourite thing to do in the world.

“Have you seen Mike?” Gen asked Jared as she poked her earring into the piercing spot. “Mike! Come on, I have to fix your hair before we go on!”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Charlie Howell

@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
no

@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
yesterday's bullshit

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
her bedroom

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
Chas, Alex, Lin

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
Amy

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
Kitsune2202

[possible tw: panic attack, depressive behaviours]

Numb.

Charlie couldn’t feel anything.

She couldn’t feel the anger biting at her chest at Lydia’s presence in front of her or the candy bar lodged in her hands that told Charlie her boyfriend had been talking to her.

She couldn’t feel the panic swelling up inside of her stomach like a tsunami, ripping at her muscles and crashing against ribs as her lungs struggled to inflate and deflate, inflate and deflate.

She couldn’t feel the blood drain from her cheeks and fingertips as she looked at the words in front of her or her grip tightening around the device as she pushed her way through the crowds.

Everyone knew.

Everyone saw.

There was no hiding from their eyes and their accusations, no way to get them to listen to her explanations. Charlie Howell did not ruin Chas fucking Marino’s project, why would she? Homecoming had been a mistake she had long since paid for and if she wanted payback, why would she take Alex out with him?

None of it made sense. Anyone who knew Charlie would know that none of it made sense. But no one was listening, no one cared about what she had to say.

Somehow, her feet ended up carrying her from the stadium. Somehow, she ended up on the front steps of her apartment, shaking hands struggling to fit the key into the slot of the front door. Somehow, the key worked and Charlie soon found herself on the floor of the bathroom in her very empty apartment. Somehow, Charlie wasn’t crying, there were no tears on her rouged cheeks, but her chest ached all the same, gasping breaths pulling apart her esophagus and shaking her to the bone. Somehow, no one bothered her for hours while she sat with her back against smooth tile, her shaking fingers entwined in strands of honey blonde hair.

Charlie didn’t remember who had come home, brain foggy from the lack of air and intense anxiety, but someone had managed to coax her out of the bathroom and into her bedroom.

She stayed in her bedroom for days.

What was the point in attending classes? In a few weeks, Charlie would be on a flight home to Toronto, not preparing her performance for the tour. Who cared if she received a bad mark when she had already swiftly gotten herself removed from the school?

Amy.

Apparently Amy cared because there she was at her door the following Saturday morning, barging into her bedroom all done up and ready to face the day while Charlie was still stuck under the weight of her blankets and pillows, curtains drawn tightly to keep the light out.

"You ready Char!?" Amy asked, the enthusiasm dripping from her tone.

“Do I look like I’m ready?” Charlie spat with her face still buried in her pillow.

Instantly, a pang of guilt shot through her stomach. Why was she taking her feelings out on Amy? All she was trying to do was help, but how can someone help an issue that can’t be fixed? Amy still seemed to be up in the clouds with ideas to keep Charlie at the school while Charlie had already come to one very clear conclusion: there was no way she was going to stay at Hollywood Arts.

Slowly, Charlie pulled herself up off of her pillow, reaching a hand to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “Ames, I already told you that I’m not going. What’s the point? I doubt that they’ll even let me in anyways.”

Scooting backwards towards her headboard, Charlie pulled her legs up to her chest as a silent invitation for Amy to sit down. There really wasn’t much of a point. Soon enough, Charlie would be without a school, without a job, without a place to live, without her friends, without Lin. One stupid dance wasn’t going to fix that.

“Ames…” Charlie sighed, resting her forehead into her hands. She wanted to apologize but the words simply weren’t coming. Charlie’s mood wasn’t Amy’s fault, nor should anything be taken out on one of the few supporters Charlie seemed to have left. But there she was, disappointing her and being short with her. Some fucking friend Charlie was. “Please don’t make me do this. I really don’t want to go. Just let me stay here, I barely slept all night.”

A lie. Charlie had been doing nothing but sleep in the past week.

“Please…”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Damien Slater

His fingers angrily yanked the tie from around his neck again and Damien glared at the reflection staring back at him. His hands came down to rest on either side of the porcelain sink and he leaned in closer to stare at the hollow look in his dark eyes. He tilted his head this way and that way, studying his pasty skin for a moment before he leaned back, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he looked back down at the tie.

He picked it up once more and brought it back around his neck. He looped it around and he tilted his head up, gaze focused on the tie in the mirror as his clumsy fingers attempted to tie the knot once again. And yet again, the knot came out clumsy and poor, and Damien wanted nothing more than to reach out and break the mirror in front of him. There was something about seeing that mocking look in his eyes directed right back at him as he tried to tie this fucking tie that was just fucking... just... pissing him the absolute fuck off.

Damien angrily tugged at the end of the tie to try and pull it from around his neck, except that he'd fucking knotted it, so he ended up just yanking the knot up closer to his neck until he was practically fucking choking. His fingers came up, struggling to undo the knot, until the limp gray tie fell to the sink by his waist.

He glared down at it.

Mother fucking tie had just tried to murder him.

He grabbed his phone, opening up YouTube and searching for a video on how to tie a goddamn fucking tie. While the video played, Damien tried to follow along, his clumsy fingers again struggling to follow through with the video -- plus, the longer he attempted, the harder it was getting.

"Dane, we can't keep doing this."

"What do you want me to do? I can't--"

"I want you to take this seriously and try--"

His mother's voice was cut off by his father's hand slamming against the table, and the startling noise caught the attention of everyone else in the room and a couple nearby guards. His father gave them a smile and a small nod of his head as he lifted a hand up to run through his dark curly hair, the chain dangling from his wrist clanging against the table as he did so.

"Miranda, I can't make my sentence go any faster," he said through gritted teeth.

"Would you just work with the lawyers? I can't..." his mom reached over, and her hands closed over Damien's ears -- he could still hear her, but he always pretended to not because he knew that it would just make his mom feel bad. "I can't pay rent and take care of Damien all by myself. I don't even have anywhere to take him when I'm working at the club -- I can't do this, Dane. I just can't anymore."

She released her grip on his ears, and Damien smiled at his mom. The worried expression on her face melted away for a moment as she smiled down at her son and then looked back towards his dad.

His father was getting frustrated -- Damien could tell that.

"Look," Damien stated proudly, and both of his parents looked towards him. He pushed himself up farther in his seat and leaned across the table, pointing at the tie that he'd clumsily tied around his neck. "I got a school dance later and I wanna wear this. Didn't I do good?" He asked, lifting his chin up as he did.

Dane let out a chuckle. "Yeah, looks real good, champ," he said and started to reach across the table to adjust the tie. "Here, let me show you how to--"

"Hey, hey sit back," one of the guards said as he started towards them.

His dad leaned back, his hands slamming against the table. "Are you fucking serious? I'm trying to show my son how to tie his goddamn tie."

"You know the rules, you can't interact."

"Are you fucking kidding me? No, this is fucking bullshit. I'm just--"

"Actually, I think your time is up." The guard gestured for another one to come over.

"They just fucking got here. I'm not leaving."

"Don't make this harder on yourself."

Damien's hand shot out and he grabbed his phone. The video was still playing but at some point, Damien's thoughts had drifted off and he'd stopped listening. He picked up the phone and threw it towards the opposite side of the bathroom. It slammed into the wall and fell to the ground with a thunk, but the video didn't stop.

He could still hear the faint sound of the video playing, and that just pissed him off more.

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Damien, are you okay?" His mother's voice asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fu... I'm fine," he mumbled. He'd turned his head back down, his fingers digging into the edges of the porcelain sink once again. Still hanging from his neck was the fucking tie.

Silence for a moment, and he thought his mother may have walked away.

"Can I come in?"

Damien glanced towards the door. "Yeah," he grumbled, and the doorknob twisted as his mother stepped into the bathroom with him. He lifted his head back up so that he could stare into his reflection's gaze once again.

"Oh my gosh, turn so I can see you," Miranda said, and Damien did as his mother had asked him as he turned so she could study him. Her hands readjusted the jacket hanging on his thin frame, and then her fingers hovered near the tie. Her lips downturned into a small frown. "Do you want me to get George and see if he can help you with that?"

"No," Damien answered quickly. He gave a shake of his head. "No, I'm just ahh..." he pulled away from his mother and headed towards where his phone had fallen. He picked it up from the ground and turned off the stupid fucking YouTube video as he did so -- the screen had cracked, but that was nothing new.

"I gotta uh, I gotta go pick up Luci, mom," he mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," his mother said with a smile. "Have fun, alright?"

"Yeah, 'course."

-----------------------------​

Damien was not having fucking fun.

He'd gone and picked up Luci, and he'd given her the corsage bullshit that he'd bought for her, and they'd done all of the dumb ass date stuff, you know. Dinner and all that shit -- but there was this part of him that had hated every minute of it, even if the company was at least decent.

Like he could've been stuck with a worse bitch.

But now, they'd actually gotten there. To the Winter Ball. He'd parked, and he'd done the whole fucking holding the car door open for Luci -- he was pretty sure she would've eaten him alive if he hadn't -- and now they were walking up towards where the actual dumbass school dance was being held.

As they walked up towards the Winter Ball's location, Damien found himself tugging uncomfortably at the tie around his neck again. There was a few quiet curses muttered under his breath, but he'd pasted a smile on his face every time that Luci bothered to look in his direction.

God, he didn't know why the fuck he was here, allowing himself to be pulled around by this bitch. Sure, she was hot, but hot only got you so far before your demands were just fucking ridiculous. Damien wasn't the dating type at fucking all (yeah, he knew what a surprise -- fuck you), and this was pushing it for him. Being some chick's date to the fucking Ball, and having only slept with this single chick for the last few weeks...

It was really getting to him.

And fuck, this tie was going to be the motherfucking death of him.

He finally let go of it and decided he was just going to look like a fucking five-year-old for the night when his dark eyes caught sight of Kian fucking Phelan, who'd actually shown up despite throwing a fit on Twitter earlier and claiming he wouldn't be. Damien let out a huff of indignant air, a slight shake to his head.

"Hey, I'll meet you in there," Damien told Luci. He reached out with one hand, his fingers lightly brushing against her arm, and then he offered her a small smile (not at all fucking forced -- fuck you) before he turned and walked towards Kian. His hands went to rest lazily in his pockets, his lips drawing back into a harsh grin.

"Thought you weren't coming," he snapped, his tone coming out harsher than intended as he came to a stop in front of Kian.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I couldn't bail on the boys." Kian spat. "Did you get ditched already or somethin'? Or did you just come over to rub some bullshit about how lonely I am in my face?"

Damien let out a snort of laughter, an annoyed look on his face. "No, fuckhead," he snapped, "I'm meeting Luci inside." How fucking dare he assume that Damien had been ditched, and better yet, how fucking dare he assume that Damien was just here to treat him like shit.

Like sure, that's probably what Damien had in mind, but still.

Fuck him.

Also fuck him for saying his only reason was coming to not "bail on the boys." That was so fucking dumb. He barely even knew Javi or Lucky.

Kian seemed a bit off, but Damien didn't dwell on it for too long. Not that he really fucking cared.

"Seriously, what the hell do you want, Damien?" Kian asked.

"I don't fucking know," Damien snapped back. His fingers reached up again to tug at the tie that was closed around his neck, because the longer he talked to Kian, the more it felt like it was seriously fucking choking him out. "Just came to wish you good luck or some shit because ahh... I don't fucking know."

"Dude." Kian blurted out suddenly, his eyes dropping from Damien's face to the blue silk around his neck. "Damien, Damien stop. Cut it out," he huffed, smacking Damien's hands away, "you're going to choke yourself out. Here..."

With a huff, Damien let his hands drop to his sides and slip into his pockets. "I already fucking did," he grumbled.

"You never could tie these things." Kian said as he fixed the tie. Damien's eyes were focused everywhere but Kian's face, until he'd finished with the tie, and his hands rested on Damien's collarbone. Then he found his dark eyes trailing back to Kian's face. "You, um, you look nice tonight."

Silence for a second. Nothing really but the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

"Jet Black Neon, you're on in five!"

Kian's hands dropped away, and Damien glanced towards the voice. He huffed, kicking at a rock by his foot.

"I, uh... Have fun in there with Luci." Kian rushed, and Damien looked back towards his friend.

"Yeah, ahh... you, too," Damien mumbled. "And thanks, I guess..." he grumbled, pointing towards the tie before giving Kian a thumbs up and watching as his friend disappeared into the building.

Once he was gone, Damien turned back around and walked towards the front of the building with his hands in his pockets. He slipped inside, hesitating near the entrance as he glanced around until his eyes settled on Luci. A small grin formed itself on his face as he sauntered over to her.

"Hey," he greeted, and Damien slipped an arm around her waist. "You know, when you get bored of all this dumb fucking glitz and glam shit, we could..." he gave a little tilt of his head, "you know, maybe sneak out, do something a little more fun, just the two of us..."

As he trailed off, a grin spread its way across his way.

mood
hatethishatethishatethis

location
Winter Ball

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

playing...
Sad Songs

by Kyd the Band​

mentions
Kian

interactions
Luci

tags
Stardust Galaxy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Casey Clairmont

His Winter Ball had... had been... it had been great, obviously. For his first high school dance? Casey considered it to have been pretty amazing. There was a certain little ol' pep in his step as he walked through the hallways now, chattering with his good ol' buddy, Hunter, about nothing and everything all at once. Yep, that's right, all of the Ball's rather unfortunate events had more or less vanished from the boy's mind.

Casey was real good at that, you see. At being able to just brush and skip past things like they hadn't had any effect on him, like he'd truly enjoyed his time with Chas after the Ball when they'd changed outta their stuffy clothes and got fries -- and he had enjoyed that. 'Course, he probably would've enjoyed it more had he not been plagued with a touch of guilt following the whole discourse with Bella, but really, what else was he supposed to do, huh?

He'd been kinda shoved between a rock and a hard place, ya know. He had a boyfriend, however fake it might've been, he still had to maintain looks for the media and what not. Plus, plus, plus, the idea of him and Bella had never... it had never crossed his mind, not until then. And now when it did cross his mind like it had over the last handful of days? It just made him real, real confused, 'cause he didn't know.

You see, he was real good at the infatuation part. At the whole falling head over heels for a real pretty girl, or a real pretty boy, without really knowing them. But he knew Bella, and he'd never felt like tripping over himself feeling -- and that felt real weird, and it really scared him, 'cause why? She was pretty, she was cool, she was everything that his infatuated little self should've been heart eyes over, but he wasn't.

'Course, he did like her. But not like he liked Mikaela or Avery or Hunter or Newt where they fell in that real good category of "friend" without there ever being a fear of them poking their way out. They were the kinda people he'd never get heart eyes infatuated over, ya know, but Bella...

That's what reallllly troubled him 'bout the whole situation. 'Cause he didn't know why he found himself kinda scratching his head over the situation, or speechless with no ideas on how to speak to her, and why he had a weird mixture of currently unidentified feelings swelling in his chest over Avery admitting to kissing Bella.

He'd kissed her just that easily, huh.

Well, it was really not all that important, so he tried to push it away from his mind. Instead, Casey just kinda hopped along with Hunter. You see, the three boys had agreed to try jamming together sometime, and today happened to be just that day, and he was real, real excited 'bout it.

They were gonna meet up in one of the music rooms, and on his way towards it, Casey had run into Hunter and now they were bip boppin' their way along to it.

"Yeah, so anyway, if ya just... ya know..." he made a little fire prrrgghh sound as he was speaking, his hand clasping around the doorknob to the music room they'd decided to meet in, and he turned the handle, starting to walk in as he was speaking. "It makes for a real nice--"

His words and whatever the heck he'd been talking about disappeared, though, when he caught sight of a girl in the room. 'Course, a smile stayed pasted on Casey's face as he looked in.

He let out a chuckle.

"You're not Newt."

Well, she wasn't.

mood
hypehypehype

location
a music room

outfit
the normal band shirt and jeans

playing...
Kerosene

by Courage My Love​

mentions
Bellalala, Avery, Newt

interactions
Hunter, Rox

tags
@WinterBarry @Wayward Son

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[Winona]

Mason Rivera

Growing up, it had always been his dream to step foot outside of this godawful town. Mason had never wanted to end up like his mother -- constantly so far under the influence that she hardly knew what day it was, her body basically dead before she'd even really had a chance to live. But that's how it was in the small towns. Your life was basically over by time you were thirty, and the rest of your life was spent draining bottles.

It's what he'd never wanted and after he'd met Noah, the two of them used to talk about how they were gonna leave. Move to New York City, or Chicago, or across the ocean to some place in Europe. They'd get a tiny, shitty apartment, be roommates for a few years, until they inevitably made it big and were able to move into a penthouse.

That had been his dream, anyway, until he found out he was gonna be a father at the ripe old age of fourteen.

Fourteen years old was when his life had met its end.

Fuck, he hadn't even made it halfway to thirty.

When Ariana had been born, all of those dreams had been blown away to dust. Crushed right before his eyes, and he'd come to accept that living in this deadbeat town was how it was gonna be. Sure, he'd held onto hope for a bit, but eventually, his farfetched daydreams with Noah were discussed less and less until they weren't discussed at all. Until he figured the best way was to aim for a football scholarship.

He was never gonna be good enough for that shit. Even the recruiters who did talk to him, who humored him for a little, would see the toddler walking up yelling daddy and suddenly they had to go. Suddenly, it didn't feel like such a good fit. Suddenly, their entire offer was being saved for someone else.

Mason never did regret Ariana, though. He didn't think he'd still be here if it wasn't for her.

He just wished it had been a couple more years.

And he wished that he still had Brittany by his side to help out with Ari. When his dreams of leaving with Noah had died off, his dreams of building a life with her had grown and taken its place. He'd promised her that he'd get a good job, something better than working at the fucking grocery store, and he'd provide for her and for Ariana. They'd have the cute little house in the suburbs, with the white picket fence, a pet dog, and Drake living in the spare bedroom. The four of them would be a happy family, and he'd really thought that she wanted that, too.

She probably did for a while, until the idea of staying with Mason tied down with a kid became too much, and she left. Moved away to go to college or some shit, and left Mason to pick up the pieces.

Right then, Mason had given up. He'd accepted that he'd probably always be stuck here, in this fucked up town, in a fucked up tiny ass apartment, and he'd be no better than his mom.

Until Noah had dragged him with to some casting call for some bougie ass fucking school in Los Angeles, and Mason found himself also being offered the opportunity.

For a while, he'd stared at the card, unsure if he should call.

Eventually, he did.

Eventually, he was accepted to this school with Noah, but he couldn't leave yet. He got Raven in by sending her stories into some contests, and then he'd helped Drake to make a shitty audition video and managed to get him for magician shit. Drake wasn't good at it, but ah... they could deal with that when they got there.

They'd packed up, and on one crisp morning just a few days before Christmas, they'd climbed into Noah's fucking van to head for LA.

Mason took the first shift. Ariana had fallen back asleep in her car seat, but he found himself continually glancing in the rearview mirror to look at her. At her sleeping face, at the Spiderman blanket that currently covered her, and he kept having to ask himself if what he was doing was right.

He'd never actually been out of Westbrook. When he was with Brittany, and her parents would watch Ari for a night, they'd drive around. And they'd get close to the edge of the town, but they never left. He'd always wanted to leave, but every time that he approached the line that marked the edge of the city, he'd find himself letting up on the gas pedal.

Mason wasn't scared. He didn't get scared.

... But something about that unknown did scare him.

As they approached the edge of town, he found himself slowing down subconsciously. Snow had started to fall around them, and he'd come up with the fact that it was that. It was the snow. He didn't want to crash with everyone he cared about in the car before they'd even made it out of town.

"Not gonna miss the snow," Drake remarked from the backseat. A glance in the rearview mirror awarded him the brief image of his little brother, staring out the window. He'd put his trust in Mason, he'd said goodbye to their mother, he'd packed up his own life to follow his brother to LA.

There was no fear in him.

Drake wasn't the strong one, though. Mason was.

"Yeah, me neither," Mason agreed.

And he pressed his foot against the gas pedal.

He didn't even glance in the direction of the sign asking if he'd enjoyed his time in Westbrook.

---------------------------​

Countless days in the van had been fucking hell. Switching between mostly just himself and Noah was hell. Sure, Raven could drive, but with no license? It stressed him the fuck out -- and Noah was a shitty ass driver, so Mason found himself on the edge of his seat the entire way to LA.

He was amazed that they had made it in one piece and now that they were finally here, he couldn't wait to get inside and just... fucking sleep in a bed for the first time in days. And take a shower, because well... no one smelled great after days of being trapped in one fucking van.

Noah, Drake, and Ian had already gathered their shit and headed up first while Mason and Raven stuck back.

Mason was in the process of getting the shit that Ari would need for the night -- he figured the rest of it they could grab in the morning. He held the pink backpack out behind him. "Can you get this?" He asked Raven, and he waited for her to take it from him before he carefully unbuckled his daughter from her car seat.

She'd fallen asleep, and he was in no hurry to wake her up right now.

Carefully, he pulled her from the car seat into his arms. She whimpered a little bit, and he offered a few quiet shhs to calm her down as she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. There was a small sigh of relief when she settled back down -- the last thing he needed was to fuck up her sleep schedule even more.

As he stepped back from the van, he used one hand to quietly close the van door, and then he turned to Raven. "Ready?" He asked, his voice still a soft whisper.

mood
fucking exhausted

location
a van

outfit
flannel and jeans, duh

playing...
Fast Car

by Tracy Chapman​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Noah (kinda), Ian (kinda), Drake (kinda), Raven (not kinda)

tags
@Soap @mogy @PenguinFox

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