Realistic or Modern Sparks Fly [spidey][loxx]

[apolla]

Name: Andrew Simmons
Age: 24

Bio:
Andrew never had an easy life. Granted, who does? His mother dipped out when he was a baby, leaving him and his father alone. Pissed and hurt over her leaving, his father turned to alcohol, barely surviving his way through the day. He lost job after job, which is what prompted Andrew to join a street gang at a young age. He ended up dropping out of high school, and never finishing his GED classes. He had one bright spot in his life, and she left him for college because she was way smarter than him, and worth more than their crap town life.

---

Name: Brea Jablonski
Age: 22

Bio: Brea grew up with money. It's the only way of life she's ever known. Being an only child, it was natural that her parents would spoil her. Yet there are some things that money can't buy, like love, and true friendship. She's lucky to have [YC] as her friend, though she doesn't consider herself lucky to be in an arranged engagement with her brother. She hasn't told anyone how she really feels, though.
​

 

[christy]

BRADLEY MONTGOMERY | 24

Bradley was born into the gang life. He never really knew his parents since he was orphaned at birth and bounced around foster homes before ultimately running away and being taken in by a local gang. He grew up with them, learned their ways, and ultimately became a pretty respected member there. They're his family, even if they all dabble in a lot of shady shit from time to time. With them, Brad earned a lot of money. Of course, it was all black money, but hey, rich is rich.

_______

SAMANTHA GREENE | 21

Sam has always been a very passionate dancer. Ballet was her dream, ever since she was young, and she practised it vigilantly, her routine never faltering even as she grew older. She became more determined to get to the top and earn a scholarship to a prestigious dancing school -- her parents refused to pay for it because dancing was 'impractical'. But Sam proved them wrong, however in order to pursue her dreams, she had to leave behind a boy she used to love. While she never totally forgot him, Sam tried to move on with another guy she met over a year ago, and currently, she is engaged to him. [brother: jonathon greene | fiancee: scott gilchrist]

​

 

[apolla]

Brea

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location: Funeral
with: no one yet
tags: @spidey

​

"I can't believe she's dead."

"Did you hear how? It was an overdose, I heard."

"Really? I heard drunk driving!"

"No, stupid, she was high while driving and she ran off the bridge. They've had that place closed down for weeks now, trying to sort everything out. It's still not open to the public."

"It's so sad."

Listening to the voices of the elite around her, both young and old, only caused Brea's anxiety to bubble more and more. Feeling the tight knots in her stomach become tighter, she heaved a sigh and looked down at her lap. When was this damned service supposed to start again? She could have sworn the text said twelve, but it was going on twelve thirty with no sign of the preacher.

People continued to talk in the pews around her, not caring that it was Brea's friend they were talking about. Summer had been a beautiful, vibrant girl back when Brea knew her well. Knew her well-- that was an understatement. She, Summer, Samantha, and a few other girls had all formed a tight knit group of friends known as the Barbies. Someone came up with that name once, and it'd stuck for years.

Of course, people grow up and drift apart. Samantha went off to college, Summer found herself a husband. Lana had disappeared off the face of the earth completely, and Zoe had become a baby machine (three kids, no husband). That basically left Brea and Summer the only ones left in the town of Whitshire, although they hadn't really remained close.

Now Brea wished she'd reached out more.

Feeling tears welling up in her eyes, Brea was two seconds away from standing up and leaving the church when the sound of a throat clearing in a microphone caught her attention. Slowly, people shushed as they caught sight of Preacher Donahue up on stage. He did the opening speech, and then locked eyes with Brea.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she stood, trying to ignore the countless eyes that turned her way. Something she and Summer had initially bonded over was music and singing; and now, Brea would sing her very last song to Summer. It was a surprise to the family, and Brea made sure not to look at them while her voice filled the chapel, knowing that she'd lose it if she did.

The rest of the service was just as beautiful. Afterwards, Brea started for the exit, when she caught sight of a familiar face. Just as she went to call out to Samantha, Summer's mother stepped in her way, asking her to stand with them as people came to shake their hands. Unable to tell the woman no, Brea followed her, all the while looking out for the friend she thought she'd seen.

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[apolla]

Andrew

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location: Funeral
with: no one yet
tags: @spidey

​

The entire time he sat through the service, Andrew wondered what the hell he was doing there. It wasn't as though he belonged here, at a funeral for someone who hadn't given a damn about him or anyone else in the last few years. After leaving Whitshire a few years back, he'd sworn that he was done with it. That town had nothing for him but heartbreak and bad memories; who would wanna go back? The friends he'd once had there were gone, either dead or off to school to better themselves. Scoffing at the thought, he shook his head and looked around the church, amazed he hadn't been struck by lightning yet. The funeral itself wasn't in Whitshire, but it seemed as though the entire town had shown up.

At first, Andrew had ignored the phone calls from Summer's mom. The woman was like an elephant-- she never forgot a name or a face, and she was determined to have everyone there. Despite the fact that her daughter had gotten married and addicted to drugs, she wanted everyone together, "for old times sake" is what she'd said when he finally answered the phone.

Still, he'd told her no.

The woman was damn persistent.

So that's how, less than a day before the funeral, he'd convinced a friend of his to join him on an 'adventure'. Of course, he'd left out details, and maybe Bradley would be mad. Maybe not. They surely wouldn't have a heart to heart about it. Either Bradley would punch him later, or he'd let it go. Either way, they were there, stuck.

He imagined that, to the town, he looked quite different than he used to. He'd worn darkwashed jeans and a black t-shirt to the funeral, complete with books and a leather jacket. His hair was longer than he used to keep it, and his facial expression screamed don't talk to me.

Well, maybe he didn't look that different.

He recognized Brea as she stood to sing, and his expression softened for just a moment. At one point, they'd been close-- never like that, but... seeing her made him think of the other her, and he found himself looking for her automatically. When he realized what he was doing he stopped himself, forcing his eyes front and center.

She'd left him years ago. She didn't matter anymore. He could have any woman he wanted, and he was sure that she was happy with her decision to go to school. She probably wasn't even here.

But still...

His eyes drifted again, and before he knew it, the service was over. People were standing and going to greet the family. Deciding to skip that part, he turned to Bradley. "Ready to get some beer and hit the hotel?" He muttered, sliding out of the pew and beginning to walk to the exit, not paying attention to where he was doing. That is, not until he slammed straight into someone.

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[christy]

samantha

It was still hard to believe that Summer was dead. She and Sam had been close, even if, among their little group of 'Barbies', she was the one that fit into it the least due to her lack of interest in clothes and things deemed typically girly. Sam had always looked to her dance, and her art. Her clothes were always sporting some new paint stain or the other, and the same could usually be said for her hands or even her face. Yet, Sam treasured each of those girls she had grown close to, no matter how their friendship began. To now be attending a funeral for one of those girls... it was surreal. Sam had a hard time digesting it because she never really expected anything like this. It was the kind of thing you saw on TV in a movie, or heard in the news, but experiencing it was way worse.

Sam had come alone, to the out of town funeral. Edward had offered to come, and so did her brother since both her and his fiance were going to be there, but Sam felt like this was something she needed to do on her own, and at least it would be nice to see Brea again.

As soon as Sam had gotten the news, she had gotten to painting. Dance was going well, but art was what she used to express her emotions, and she came up with a gorgeous portrait of Summer that was hung up on a stand by the casket. Then she watched as Brea went up on stage, and she felt a lump forming in her throat, making it hard to swallow. It was beautiful, just like Sam had always admired Brea's singing voice. Sam herself was always too conscious about her voice to sing in front of people she didn't know, or up in front of so many people.

When the service was finishing, she didn't feel like she could stay there much longer. She figured she could just meet Brea outside, so she made a move to leave. People were going to meet Summer's family and Sam didn't think she could go do that just yet. She was in town for another day or two anyway, so there was time for that. She just needed air.

On her way out though, she slammed right into someone. "Oh, sorry," she said, sniffling slightly. She lifted her head briefly, to see who she had bumped into, only to realise that the face was all too familiar. She froze.

"Andrew?"

code by spidey

bradley

Bradley thought this was going to be an adventure. He liked those. he liked going to new places, doing new things. As much as he liked to live life on the fast lane, he also enjoyed simpler things. He didn't feel the need to accompany Andrew with some of his finer cashmere suits, or his fancy car, because he thought they'd just be roughing it up for whatever adventure they were going on. He enjoyed how vague it was, because that meant it would be surprising.

And while it definitely was surprising, it wasn't at all what Bradley wanted from an adventure. Funerals were the worst. He'd been to his fair share of them, since every month or so was usually some acquaintance of the other kicking the bucket. His line of work wasn't exactly the safest, though of course, with him high in the ranks, Bradley was safer than most. And besides, he did other legitimate work too, because he liked to explore his options.

But this was the funeral of someone he didn't even know, and when he was promised an adventure, this wasn't what he thought of. Of course, he couldn't exactly create a scene because people were in mourning, and he wasn't even that mad at Andrew because he was his friend, but he sure was going to get back at him for it.

The service went by painfully slowly since he had no interest in this. The only highlight was when someone went up to sing. She was really good. Bradley had an admiration for things like that. For proper beauty. Her voice was one thing, and she certainly suited that same description. Beautiful.

But he still couldn't wait for it to all be over so he could at least get drunk at the hotel bar. Fortunately, it was all done after the song, so he got up and followed Andrew as he made his way out of the chapel. "Hell yes," he said with a small chuckle, doing his best not to smile too much. "You so owe me for this. And--" He cut himself off when he ran into Andrew's back. Confused, he stepped back, only to see why Andrew had come to a sudden stop. Bradley was all for hitting on attractive ladies wherever he went, and funerals were the best place to do that, but something on Andrew's face told him this was something else. It didn't take him long to put two and two together though. Andrew had spoken about Samantha, the girl he'd had a thing for before she left town. And this was a friend's funeral, which meant that she was likely going to be there too. And here she was.

A small smile flickered on Bradley's face because he couldn't help it. "You lucked out back then, didn't you?" he murmured to him lowly so Sam wouldn't overhear him basically complimenting her before he clapped Andrew on the shoulder. "I think I'm going to go give my condolences to the family. Be right back." Of course, he had no intention of doing that, but it looked like Andrew and Sam could use a moment to talk without him looming over them, so instead he thought he'd take a smoke break. He paused around the corner of the chapel where nobody would pass by, and he pulled out a cigarette before lighting it up and taking a drag.

code by spidey

apolla ​

 

[apolla]

Brea

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location: Funeral
with: no one yet
tags: @spidey

Standing with Summer's family-- her mother, who somehow hadn't shed a single tear yet; her father, who looked stony faced and indifferent; and her younger brother-- Brea felt like an outsider. She wasn't family; she didn't belong up here, receiving handshakes and hugs as though she'd suffered as great of a loss as the other three. Despite the fact that she felt as though she'd lost a sister, she knew she hadn't. Brea and Summer were the original duo, the first two girls to become friends. Through thick and thin, they'd done everything together.

Lana and Zoe had come next, once Zoe moved in next door to Summer and Lana had been held back a grade. And then that left Samantha-- to be honest, Brea had always admired Samantha the most, even if she'd never told her. While Summer, Lana, and Zoe were always concerned with the latest trends in fashion, Samantha had never even pretended to be as interested in it as the other girls. Brea, being born and raised in a high fashion world, loved clothes and fashion. But she also had a passion for music, one that was never appreciated by her family.

But Samantha always appreciated it.

After most of the church had given their condolences, Brea turned to the family, and hugged each of them in turn. Excusing herself, she turned back to the main area, scanning faces for the main one she wanted to see. Not seeing her, she deflated a little bit. But maybe she was just outside, waiting for Brea. If she'd even seen her, that is. Fearful that she may have missed her chance, she hurried out of the building, looking this way and that for her former best friend.

Her phone buzzed in her chest, where she'd tucked it to keep it safe. Pulling it out, she sighed when she saw Jonathon's name. Debating pretending she didn't see the call, she started walking around the side of the building. At the last minute, she hit answer and pressed the phone up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, babe. I was just calling to see how the service went."

Hearing his voice should have given her comfort, and she felt awful that it didn't. Far from a bad guy, he treated Brea like she was a princess. Her family raved over him, but she just didn't share their feelings. She didn't love him. "It was beautiful." She answered automatically, hoping he didn't expect her to say she wished he had come. Lifting her head, she paused mid-step when she saw someone a few yards away, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette. She didn't recognize him. His appearance screamed stay away.

Yet somehow, she heard herself say to Jonathon, "I'll call you back." Hanging up on her fiance, she squared her shoulders and headed straight for him. "Can I bum one?" She asked, nodding towards his cigarette.

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Andrew

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location: Funeral
with: no one yet
tags: @spidey

A few times during the service, Andrew had glanced over at Bradley. More than once he wondered if his friend were going to fall asleep. Resisting the urge to elbow him in the side, he'd turn back front. Trust me, he wanted to say. I don't want to be here either. With a silent sigh, he cracked his knuckles, earning a glare from the woman on his other side. Holding up his hands in mock apology, he'd settled instead for tapping his fingers on his pants.

Glad when it was over, he couldn't help but chuckle at Bradley's response to his question. Already thinking about the liquor bottle back at the hotel room, he was just as surprised as the other two when he ran into them. Surprise gave way to shock as he heard a familiar voice say his name. A voice he hadn't heard in many years; a voice he'd never expected to hear again. In the few seconds it took for him to decide he wanted to look down, he thought about running.

But why should he run? He wasn't the one who dipped out of the relationship.

Finally making eye contact with Samantha, his gaze softened automatically. "Samantha." He breathed, shaken out of his reverie as Bradley clasped a hand on his shoulder, speaking lowly from behind him. Turning his head just enough to look at Bradley, he opened his mouth to retort but his friend slipped away into the crowd before he could. Having no choice but to look back at Samantha, he did, taking a moment to drink her in. She hadn't changed much, but she had, at the same time.

"You look good." He told her, swallowing heavily, glad that Bradley had excused himself. He hated the idea of anyone he knew now seeing him this vulnerable. Truth be told, he'd thought about this moment many times-- what he would do or say if he ever saw her again. Every scenario he'd ever come up with flew right out the window as he stood there with her now, wanting nothing more than to grab her and kiss her. For old times sake, of course.

Fuck that.

Clearing his throat, he stepped aside to allow someone past him, moving him closer to Samantha in the process. "Sorry." He told her, moving back as soon as the other person was gone. Another moment of silence fell between them, and he realized that things had never been this awkward between them before. "Tell me, Sam-- how have you been? How's college?" Was it hot in here suddenly, or was it just him?

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[christy]

samantha

It was even more surreal seeing Andrew at the funeral. She knew she should have expected him, and part of her definitely did, but while one half of her really wanted to see him again after all this time, the other half mainly was terrified of seeing him again because it had been so long. So long since she left town to pursue her dreams. It had been hard to do so, leaving Andrew behind. It was easily one of the hardest things she'd ever done. But before Andrew stepped into her life back then, she never thought she'd be faced with that kind of decision. She never thought she would meet someone she loved as much as she loved Andrew which was why she didn't think anything would interfere with her career goals. The goals she had for herself since she was a child.

Now though, seeing him again after so many years, all Sam really felt was like a teen again. He made her feel the same way, looking at him now. He had changed a little, in terms of appearance, but he was still as attractive as ever.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked up at Andrew as he. "Thanks," she managed a small smile. "You look good too." That was a gross understatement, but she kept it at that for now. She had lost her chances with Andrew when she left. He was probably with someone else and even if he wasn't, she was engaged. "Um, yeah. Cllege went great. Right now is just auditions for recitals," she explained, knowing he would understand what she meant. "How are you doing? What have you been up to?"

Knowing that this place wasn't the most ideal place to sit and catch up, she began to walk out of the church, beckoning with a subtle gesture for Andrew to follow her. Once they were out, she glanced around briefly before looking back to him. "Are you in town for a while?" She asked him curiously. "I just got in this morning so I still have to find a hotel." Her one and only bag was in the car she had rented.

code by spidey

bradley

Bradley was halfway done with his cigarette when a voice could suddenly be heard. He looked up to see a blonde walking around the corner to where he was, but he did nothing to extinguish the cigarette. He recognised her -- she'd been the one singing in the church, which meant that she must have been close to the deceased. Despite thinking that, he was ultimately surprised when she hung up the phone, turned to him, and asked for a cigarette.

Maybe because she didn't at all seem like the type who'd smoke, especially not right outside a church. Nevertheless, he wasn't one to turn down a smoking buddy, so he pulled his pack out from his back pocket, took out a stick, and handed it to her, along with his lighter, in one swift movement.

Bradley stayed silent for a moment, just watching her curiously, before he eventually spoke. "You don't seem like the kind of girl who enjoys a smoke," he remarked, a small smirk on his face. He tried to keep it in his pants for now though because this was a funeral and he was being respectful since she was obviously close to the girl that had died. "Busy hiding from the family?" He speculated, arching an eyebrow as he took another drag of his cigarette.

For all the funerals that he'd been to, he always tried avoiding talking to people. He didn't like it, and couldn't handle it. This one wasn't for someone related to him though, so it was different.

"You were the one that sang, right?" He asked after a moment, finishing his cigarette and tossing it to the floor where he snuffed it out with the sole of his shoe. "You were pretty good. I didn't know Summer, I came with a friend who did, Andrew, but I can tell she would have liked your singing." He guessed it was something the deceased might have known about her so he was just trying to be comforting. He wasn't so good at it, really.

code by spidey

apolla ​

 

[apolla]

Brea

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location: Funeral
with: no one yet
tags: @spidey

It was all just too much.

Summer's death, being surrounded by grieving family and friends, trying to keep it all together for the sake of everyone around her. Brea had a bad habit of being the rock, the strong one when everyone else fell apart. She preferred to keep her feelings bottled up, even though she knew it wasn't healthy. Call it a character flaw.

The idea of a cigarette had never been more appealing to Brea in her life. As someone who had tried smoking before, she knew deep down that it wasn't for her. The only other time she'd tried, her parents had busted her almost immediately, ending her short-lived rebellion stage. She hadn't liked it much, anyway, so not picking up the habit hadn't been a problem.

So whatever made her walk over to a stranger and ask for one, she couldn't answer. Yet without hesitation, he offered her one and a lighter in the same motion. She only hesitated a second before accepting the items, placing the cigarette between her lips before flicking the lighter a few times to get it working.

As the flame ignited, she held it at the end of the cigarette and inhaled. A shallow breath, but enough to get it lit. Holding the stick between her first two fingers, she handed him back the lighter as she exhaled. Feeling a little more confident, she took another inhale-- this one deeper-- which led her to start coughing.

Waving the cigarette in the air as though that would help her clear her airway, she nodded at his comment. "You could say that." She managed to choke out, turning slightly away from him so he hopefully wouldn't see her face turning red. Silence fell between them again, until he brought up her song.

Finished coughing, she nodded again, the red tint on her cheeks not from the exertion of coughing this time. "Thank you." Glancing over at him, taking him in. The tattoos, rough outer exterior, strong jawline. He was definitely attractive; how had she not noticed that before?

Good god, what am I doing? Finding hot guys at a funeral, what's wrong with me? Not that Summer wouldn't tell me to go for it, but still... Shushing her inner monologue, she returned her attention to the cigarette, which had burned down about halfway even though she'd only taken the two hits. Slowly, she took another one, tapping some ash off the end. No, this wasn't for her.

"You said you came with Andrew?" Realizing she knew that name, she looked over at Bradley again. "Andrew Simmons?"

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codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll

Andrew

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location: Funeral
with: no one yet
tags: @spidey

Itching to remove his leather jacket, Andrew picked at the cuff while he waited for Samantha to reply. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and his hand twitched. He longed to do that for her again; he wanted to be able to reach out and touch her like he used to. When she belonged to him, and he belonged to her.

Resisting the urge to frown, he instead cracked a grin when she told him he looked good, glancing down at himself. "Well, I mean it is me we're talking about here." Covering his true feelings with humor; she always used to call him on that. "They say things get better with age, right? So here we are..." He lost his train of thought and trailed off, glad when she started in about college, albeit briefly.

"That's great!" He replied, with a little more enthusiasm than was necessary. Reigning it in, he nodded, more to himself than to her. "That's really good, Sam. Been in anything I may have heard of?" She asked what he'd been up to, and he knew right away he couldn't tell her about his new life with Bradley and the gang. What would she say?

What would she think?

"Oh, you know, the usual. I brought a buddy of mine here with me; he's probably ready to kill me at this point. I didn't exactly tell him what we were coming for, but I figured it could also serve as a getaway." Leaving it at that, he shrugged, following her as she started to exit the church. The air outside felt much, much better against his face, but he still felt hot.

Shrugging off his jacket, he glanced over at Sam as she mentioned a motel. "My buddy and I, we got two rooms down at the beacon motel." Cheap, sure, but bug free and it had wi-fi. "If you need to, you can, uh," Reaching up, he ran a hand through his hair, or lack thereof. "Stay with us."

Realizing how it sounded, he quickly started shaking his head. "I just meant get a room there. They have vacancies, you know. Empty rooms for sure. And wi-fi. We'll be staying in town for a few days, yeah. A getaway, like I said." Why was she the only person who made him act this way? Like a damned teenager, all over again.

Taking a breath, he realized that he needed a smoke. "I still have the same number, by the way. If you decide you want a room there. I'm in room 213." He started looking around for Bradley, though he didn't see him. "I gotta find my buddy, anyway." He backed up a few paces, then stopped. "It was good to see you, Sam." And then he turned and weaved his way through the crowd, keeping an eye out for another tatted guy like himself.

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[christy]

samantha

In terms of personality, Andrew hadn't changed a bit. Or maybe it was just because it was she, that he was talking to. Just like all thoughts of her engagement and her life after leaving her hometown ceased to exist right now that she was with Andrew again. It was nice, in a way, even if it was confusing. This feeling would go away. She told herself that, at least, because thinking anything else... well, that would mean way too much and she didn't think she could handle it.

Still, she couldn't help how she felt, now that things were coming rushing back to her. Not just memories, but feelings too.

"Nothing yet," she said with a small smile when he displayed enthusiasm at what she said. He'd always been her biggest supporter. Her parents thought ballet was an impractical route to follow, and her mother always just wished she was more fashionable, like herself, so she could become a model like her, but that had never been things Sam was interested in. "I'm still auditioning. Hoping for Swan Lake, but I'll only hear back in a few days."

He brought up his friend, and Sam briefly recalled the man that had been with him. Slightly more buff than Andrew, though shorter than him by a couple of inches. She didn't recognise him so obviously this was a friend he'd made after she left town.

Sam lifted an eyebrow though, when Andrew said she could stay with them. She knew what he meant even before he clarified it, but the words still caused a bit of heat to rush to her cheeks, tainting her skin a light red colour. "That would be great, actually," she nodded. "I'll probably drive over once I'm done here," she said, gesturing around. She still had to meet Summer's parents, and she also had to catch up with Brea.

"But yeah, It was good seeing you too," she smiled at him, still feeling like all this was so surreal. She felt a lot of things, and she desperately needed a way to get it out -- that was usually done through dance or painting but since she couldn't do either, she would settle for talking to Brea. Talking was something she never did because, well, she didn't like to talk about her feelings. Andrew was, once upon a time, the only one who got a peek, because she felt comfortable around him, and she trusted him. She trusted her friends too, but it was different. Now though, she couldn't stay silent.

"I'll see you soon." And with that, the two of them parted ways, with Sam looking around for Brea.

code by spidey

bradley

Bradley watched the girl carefully, taking the lighter back from her without a word once she handed it over. She didn't seem like smoking was something she did a lot, but he didn't question it. It wasn't any of his business. And in any case, even if this was a funeral, it was nice to chat up a pretty girl. Andrew had promised him some adventure, so even if Bradley had to find it himself, he would find a way to resort to doing just that.

Soon, Bradley was laughing a little when she choked on the smoke, coming up coughing. Yep, she definitely did not do this often, so he was a little perplexed as to why she was doing it now. Bradley had started smoking to deal with his stress, and also to try and distract himself from the loss in his life. Maybe she felt like she could do the same since he knew a lot of people felt that way. But smoking wasn't for everyone.

"You know, there are other ways to deal with what you're feeling right now. Ways that probably wouldn't make you cough," he explained. Bradley hadn't meant for it to sound so... suggestive. He hadn't meant what it sounded like -- which was that he meant sex. No, he had meant a myriad of other things, but now that he looked back on it, he could realise how it would be misinterpreted. The fact that he had a smirk on his face probably looked like he was offering. Normally, this would be something Bradley would happily go along with, but he had some respect. This was a funeral after all.

So, he continued talking, to change the topic, which fortunately came about when she clarified who he had come with. "Yep, that's the son of a bitch," he nodded when she gave him the full name. He doubted someone like her would ever be friends with Andrew, but then it occurred to her that she was probably friends with Andrew's old girlfriend. "You're one of Samantha's friends, aren't you?" He watched the cigarette of hers burn more, close to the end, though she'd only taken like three drags of it.

Bradley was about to say something else when he noticed Andrew walking out of the church, probably looking for him. He was done with his conversation with the redhead, which meant it was time to go. Bradley didn't want to hang around the church any longer in any case. "It was good talking to you," he told the woman with a slow nod. "Might want to reconsider the whole smoking thing though." Those were Bradley's parting words as he went to join Andrew, tapping him on the back. The girl was someone he couldn't quite get out of his head, and he never even got her name, but something told him that he hadn't seen the last of her yet.

Nevertheless, he focused on Andrew for now. "Ready to go? Or did you just want to let me know that you're going to be shacked up in a room with your ex for the entire trip?" He arched an eyebrow and shot him a smirk.

code by spidey

apolla ​

 

[apolla]

Brea

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location: Funeral
with: no one yet
tags: @spidey

Andrew Simmons. It was a name she knew well, even though she hadn't heard it in quite a few years. Just hearing his name brought back memories-- he and Samantha had really been #couplegoals, after all. They were far from perfect, but the attraction and love they felt for each other had been real. Brea, who had had her fair share of relationships back then and even since, hadn't found anything close to what they had.

Realizing she'd gotten lost in her own thoughts, she shoved all thoughts of her friends aside, focusing back on the cigarette in her hands. Bringing it to her lips, she inhaled slowly, managing not to cough this time as she held the smoke inside her lungs for a mere .2 seconds before exhaling. Pursing her lips, she tapped the cigarette again, watching the ashes fall off the end.

"You know, there are other ways to deal with what you're feeling right now. Ways that probably wouldn't make you cough,"

Automatically quirking a brow, she lifted her gaze to meet his. The suggestive look in his eyes and the smirk on his face left her speechless, stumbling for words-- two things that didn't happen to the blonde often. "I- er, what?" She choked out, continuing to stare at him for another second before thinking she might want to find something else to focus on.

Looking at the cigarette again, she noticed that it was almost down to the filter. Looking around for some sort of ashtray, she didn't see one, causing her to purse her lips into a slight pout. Unsure what to do with the cancer stick in her hands, she just sighed and let the thing continue to burn. He spoke again, drawing her attention back up. "I am." Confirming that she was indeed a friend of Samantha's, she was about to ask how he knew that when he looked behind her.

"Oh- okay. You too." Watching him go, she only looked down when she felt the filter getting hot between her fingers. Flicking the end, she managed to get the cherry to pop out and fall to the ground. Stomping on it, she spotted a trash can back towards the front of the church and headed in that direction.

After throwing away the butt, she brushed her hands together and looked up. Through the thin crowd, it was easy to spot the redhead that she'd seen earlier. "Sam!" With a smile on her face, she made a beeline for the girl, immediately throwing her arms around her. "Oh, my god, I thought that was you. It's been so long; how have you been?"

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codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll

Andrew

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location: Funeral
with: no one yet
tags: @spidey

Andrew felt like a fucking moron. If any girl had ever left him tongue tied and twisted in the gut, it was Sam. Nobody before or since her had ever made him feel that way. Not that he'd given it much thought, really, until this very moment. Feeling very much like his middle school self again-- awkward, anxious, and shy-- he blew out a sharp breath and pulled out his phone to text Bradley. He was completely done with this funeral, and ready to pop the top off one of the beers he had back at the hotel.

As it would turn out, he didn't even have to text Bradley, as the fellow gang member found Andrew. "Thank god," He muttered, as he turned to face his friend. "I'm quite ready." He muttered, doing a double take and glaring at Bradley at his comment about shacking up with his ex. "Hardy har har; you're quite hilarious." He remarked, his tone dry.

Deciding to leave out that he had invited her back to the hotel and to text or call him, he led the way back to his car. A sleek black Mustang with red stripes-- cliche, possibly, but fast and paid for by his newfound lifestyle. Sliding into the drivers seat, he turned the car on and waited til Bradley was inside before backing out of the spot, and leaving the church parking lot.

"I need a fucking drink." He groaned, speeding most of the way back to their crappy little motel. Once he'd parked, he wasted no time in getting out, digging out the key to room 213. He took the stairs two at a time, letting himself in, and leaving the door open just in case Bradley wanted to come in behind him.

Grabbing a beer from the mini fridge, he twisted the top off and flicked it at the mirror before downing half of it in one go. "Remind me never to go to one of these things again." Plopping down in the desk chair, he set the beer on the table in front of him, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Too many emotions, too many memories.

No. Never again.

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codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll