Fabricant451

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

The Stellar Blade 'controversy' thing is hilarious and the Helldivers 2 thing is not hilarious but it's real funny how Microsoft is just the gold medalist in hitting themselves in the face with a pie whenever Sony tries to take the crown

BHHS: Limitless

Maggot Brain

As the faucet in the bathroom finished filling up the sink, Naomi Davis looked into the mirror and only saw cracks. The bathroom on this corner of the third floor at this time of morning was thankfully empty as she knew it would be. Bathrooms were always empty when Naomi Davis entered them, just that sometimes it took a moment of tapping her foot on the tile while one of her entourage cleared their throat in case the stragglers didn’t get the hint. Rare were the moments that Naomi used a public bathroom, but even rarer were the times when girls like Naomi used the bathroom for its intended purpose. When homeroom ended, Naomi told Lottie not to wait up but she didn’t care if Lottie understood or not. She might not have even said anything, she was out of the classroom with the speed of someone who was looking at the clock and packed their bags with five minutes left before class was dismissed.

Naomi left the classroom, closed her eyes, took a breath, and walked. Normally, whenever she walked these halls, the other students watched her move as if in slow motion, always looking forward, posture perfect, heels clacking, entourage matching her intensity, only the foolish and the ignorant crossing in front of her. There was something different about her gait, it was swift but awkward, as if she had barely walked in heels before and was trying not to show it. Her face was stoic, but even she could tell that her lips were quivering like her heart was racing and she was on the verge of breaking into a hyperventilated onslaught of tears. Her only consolation was that everyone in the halls parted in her presence like an emergency siren on the street or a police escort on a crowded road. With everyone getting out of her way, it meant less of a chance of anyone trying to be brave and speak up to her, but the closer she got to her destination the more she wished she had the support of her court to serve as a buffer.

Without them there was only Naomi and when there was only Naomi there was nothing to focus on, no conversation between Angel and Indy, no off handed remark by Lottie, no grounding hand on the back from Levi. Nothing. Just Naomi. Just Naomi and the students who were conditioned to get out of her way. Just Naomi and the crippling realization that she was alone in the halls, a boat adrift at sea that was taking on water. For one single moment Naomi paused and closed her eyes again. If Levi were here he’d probably find a way to ask what was wrong without asking what was wrong and Naomi would reply nothing and their procession would continue.

But there was only Naomi and as she opened her eyes and quickened her pace she was acutely aware that there were eyes watching, lips whispering, rumors spreading, questions being asked. Where was the rest of the Hive? Where was she going? Why was she walking so quickly. Was she shaking? Were her lips quivering? Did she really wear that outfit today? Who does she think she is? Does she know she’s worse than Satan? Why do you think she’s single? Did you know her last boyfriend broke up with her? Who would want to date her anyway? Did you hear her daddy bought her those lips? Have you heard her taste in music? What is she, like sixty years old? What a loser what a bitch what a loser what a phony what a loser what a BITCH what a PHONY what a LOSER what a -

The water in the bathroom sink spilled onto the floor as Naomi’s head dunked itself beneath the surface. Bubbles rose to the top as she opened her mouth and tried to speak. No words. No sound. Just the weight of the world keeping her head under the water while her finger gripped the corners of porcelain just hard enough to make her palms go white. If she were squeezing her hands any harder without the sink there to catch her ire, she would have pierced flesh. Naomi closed her eyes as more bubbles bounded for the surface. Even with eyes closed underwater she could feel the ripples and the splashes and the waves. When the bubbles left her mouth this time, they popped and her ears shook with what she heard. A voice not her own but calling her name. A voice belonging to a shadowed figure obscured by light. “naomi Na…O….mi naOMI…NAOMI!”

Naomi Davis lifted her head out of the water and looked around in a panic. Where was she? She didn’t like it here. She was going to die she was going to die she hated this she hate she hate she hate follow the voice what voice where’s the voice where… “Naomi!” Naomi lifted the goggles from her eyes and looked towards the light as the figure beckoned her with open arms. Naomi shook her head, teeth chattering, arms flailing, feet kicking back and forth but she was standing still. Floating still. “Come on, Naomi, you’re right there!” The voice continued, the arms of the shadowy figure slowly coming into focus.

The voice belonged to a woman and Naomi pushed and paddled her way towards the woman, who bent down and helped lift Naomi up into the warm embrace of a towel. The chattering of teeth stopped only to be replaced by the full body shivering as the gentle breeze of the open air made the water dripping from Naomi feel that much colder; but nothing was as cold as the gaze Vanessa Davis was giving her young daughter. “Dry off. Go again.”

“I don’t wanna.” Naomi was running the towel over her hair. The sound in her left ear was a little fuzzy but the book had said that could happen while swimming and the fuzz didn’t make it any more difficult to hear the sounds of laughter and splashes as kids did cannonballs and jumped into the pool and splashed each other. Out of the corner of her eye, Naomi could see the large banner hanging from the awning of the roof where the pool normally sold ice cream and soda pop. ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAOMI!’ it said, and behind the banner, working the grill behind the counter was an employee who drew the short straw as he flipped burgers and checked on hot dogs and fried chicken strips for the guests. It was supposed to be her dad handling the cooking, with a bottle of beer in hand, an apron with some funny saying, and flip flops with socks. But he wasn’t here.

Half the kids in the pool didn’t even know Naomi, they just had the good fortune to be in her elementary school class. The other half didn’t know her either, but they were told that Dwayne Johnson was gonna show up and for that level of fame they could pretend to be friends with Naomi Davis and even if he didn’t show up…it was an afternoon at the pool and it came with an ice cream cake. But Naomi wasn’t seeing the kids and how much fun they were having without her. At her own birthday party. All she saw was the look of utter disappointment on her mother’s face. “What was that?” She asked, snatching the towel from Naomi’s grasp so quickly that Naomi was worried it would be snapped against her.

“I wanna go play.” Naomi didn’t even want the party at the pool. She hated the pool. She wanted it at Six Flags and she didn’t know what her parents did but she knew they could afford to rent the whole park out for her birthday so she could go on all the rides and have a big cotton candy. They could take a school bus and bring her whole grade and for one day she’d be on top of the world in the eyes of everyone. But the pool was closer. The pool was cheaper. The pool was chosen for her.

“Play? Play with who?” Her mother asked and Naomi gestured towards the classmates in the pool who were having water wars by swinging pool noodles at each other like they were in Star Wars. “And how are you going to play with them? You can’t swim, Naomi. That’s what I’m trying to teach you.”

“They’re in the not deep part. I’m fine in that part. I wanna go play.” As Naomi turned to join her classmates in the pool, a hand clamped on her wrist as icy as handcuffs. “You’re hurting, momma.” Naomi was pulled back and Vanessa Davis crouched down to look her daughter closer in the eyes.

“You don’t get to play. Not until I say so. You don’t know these kids and you don’t owe these kids your time. They’re not here for you, they’re here for that.” Vanessa pointed to the birthday cake on the picnic tables in the eating area. There weren’t even any presents, but Naomi suspected her mom kept them hidden from her. “Don’t waste your time trying to impress people who are lesser than you. But right now, you’re lesser than they are. Do you know why?” Naomi just shook her head slowly, her eyes looking down at the ground. “Because they can swim.”

“I didn’t want a pool party! I told you that! And where are my presents? It’s my birthday, there’s supposed to be -” Naomi’s protests were cut off by Vanessa gripping her fingers onto Naomi’s small, bare shoulder. “Momma, you’re hurting…”

“Stop complaining. You didn’t have to have a party at all. Throwing a tantrum won’t get you anywhere. You’re seven years old now. You’re a big girl, and what don’t big girls do?”

“Cry.” Naomi and her mother spoke at the same time and the grip to Naomi’s shoulder loosened. The seven year old on the verge of crying closed her eyes and pushed the tears back inside. Where they belonged. “Can I go play now?”

“No.” Before Naomi could protest, she felt the wind leave her lungs as her mother’s hands shoved into her chest. Naomi stumbled and fell backwards. The water slapped her body and her arms and legs jutted upward, putting her body in a ‘U’ shape as she sank. Deeper and deeper. The light overhead got further and further away until all she saw was black. Weightless. Deeper and deeper.

Down

to

the

bottom

When Naomi surfaced the sights were familiar. Salmon pink walls. The scent of lavender. Otis Redding playing from a speaker wired throughout the house.She looked down at the bathwater and didn’t recognize the legs in front of her. Her feet were bruised, her big toe was hanging on by a thread and the memories came flooding back. She was thirteen. It was her birthday. Her father had left half a carton of Haagen-Dazs in the freezer but it had been there for a week. Naomi knew one of her father’s credit card numbers and so for this particular birthday he had bought for her a small pizza, a slice of cake, and roller skates. The roller skates had been why her foot was so bruised; they had been a tight fit and by the time she realized her foot was swollen and her toe was fucked, it had already been hours. She skated through the pain, going so fast down the street that the wind wiped away her tears. She didn’t cry. She was a big girl.

In the bathtub she sank back under the water and the crooning sound of Cigarettes and Coffee became further and further muted and distant as once again she fell. The confines of the bathtub fell away and the bathwater joined the deep, dark depths of the ocean. Naomi was weightless but she kept sinking from the burden of responsibility. Again she heard the familiar voice beckoning her forward, that she was right there. Her name. Go again. Go again. Go again. Go. Go go go go go go go go go go go go.

Water splashed onto the tiled floor as Naomi lifted her head out of the sink and coughed. Her grip loosened on the porcelain corner as she took a step back, panting, heaving, face soaked with water that was dripping to the floor and expanding the puddle she had made. In the mirror her face was dry, her expression was cold and she was clicking the roof of her mouth; it was a stark contrast to how she knew she looked in the moment. A mess. A mess who needed to get a grip lest her own reflection continue to judge her just like her mother did.

“Fuck you.” Naomi spoke to the face in the mirror and the face responded in kind.

In her pocket was the phone with the unresponded message from Levi that brought about this particular episode. Running for office. Ever since freshman year, Naomi had been primed to be the next queen of Beverly Hills High School, a position she accepted without hesitation. She was perfect for it. People thought she was beautiful, she had money, she had connections, she could talk down to someone while staring them at eye level even if they were taller than her, she had people who opened doors for her in every sense of the word. Everyone knew her name, even if sometimes it was sandwiched between profanity and a hocked lob of spit onto the grass. But she could handle hatred. She wasn’t trying to impress the students she ruled over, but if they knew what a day in the life of Naomi Davis was like, they’d be impressed and not so quick to curse under their breath when she walked past.

Being at the top of the social hierarchy meant having to have fingers in every goddamn situation. Who was dating who while fucking who, who was persona non grata this month, who got on the lists, who to keep away from situations so as not to topple the balance of cliques and egos that was the ecosystem of high school. Was she perfect? No. Did things run smoothly? More or less. Did anyone even know how much she fucking did? No. They’d rather call her a bitch. That was fine. Words could never hurt her in a way that mattered and if they knew how difficult it was they would be apologizing. Not that she needed approval. She was taught not to worry about impressing people beneath her.

But social hierarchy was different from the political office of school. Naomi could make decisions on where to host parties but she could only merely suggest to the staff sweeping changes or policies. Previous student council leaders were content to let Naomi whisper suggestions and then take the heat when they got shot down or backfired. Maybe that was why no one wanted the damn job. When it came to being the president of the council it meant having to face the people she spent four years lording over. It meant having to stand in front of them and explain to them why she should be the one to dictate the next eight months of their lives.

It meant having to hear their words dead on.

It meant facing consequences.

It meant social suicide if she failed.

It meant having them push her into the pool.

It meant she had to impress people lesser than her.

The Naomi in the mirror could handle it. The Naomi in the mirror had already thought of a campaign and begun slandering her opponents. The Naomi in the mirror shook her head as she looked at the soggy-faced girl on the other side. The Naomi in the mirror was the Naomi that would leave this bathroom and be the Naomi that the staff and students interacted with. But that Naomi stepped away from the mirror and the one that took her place couldn’t tell if the water at the corner of her eyes was from the sink or her own tear ducts.

“Big girl. You’re a big girl. No tantrums. I can swim. I…I can swim.” Naomi closed her eyes and when she opened them the woman in the mirror nodded at what she saw. With a confident hand she reached into her pocket and looked at Levi’s message once again. There was only one response she could give.

To: Levi
They might as well start calling us Madam and Mister President

Before leaving the bathroom, Naomi took one last look in the mirror, but from her angle by the door the only thing she could see were the splashes of water streaking down the glass.

BHHS: Limitless

Penny Amato

_{Penny Amato}

17 • Fluid • Pansexual • They/She/He • Single

(FC: Ruby Cruz; Dialogue: 73997E)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

As much as it is possible to be an enigma at BHHS, Penny Amato is one. It's a well known secret that Penny Amato isn't their birth name but most people, at this point, have stopped trying to work out the mystery of Penny's family and have just accepted that Penny is just another face in the halls. Albeit a very nice face, by all accounts. No one could deny that Penny is a bit of a nerd, they play TTRPGs and even have a character that they have played as for years and they have a decently well known Twitch stream where they just build and paint model kits while talking to the chat or reading things sent to them - because Penny's other well known feature is their voice. Penny has a unique voice, it's husky and smooth which Penny learned makes some people feral - one time they went on mic while playing Valorant with some friends and the randoms on the team spent the entire match asking her to say things like 'Hi honey' and 'Ara ara'. They didn't get it at first. That combination of voice and face was also what made them a bit of a mainstay in the theater department of BHHS, appearing in performances since Freshman year and auditioning for masculine and feminine roles.

Penny's reputation at BHHS is fairly positive. As far as they know they don't have any enemies but they're also savvy enough to know how to play the game - which only adds to the rumor that they have some knowledge of social climbing thanks to the mysterious family. Whether on stage or just hanging out, it's hard not to notice Penny whether they want it or not. Some want to be their friend, others just want to know what their deal is, but the only family Penny is interested in talking about is the families of the fantasy novels they read.

► current dilemma

Penny doesn't really have any post high school plans. They don't exactly want to get into acting but nor do they want to be a career barista. Penny would like to maybe be an author but they have no confidence in their own writing, even though they're part of the BHHS literary magazine and have helped with scripting in theater productions. Secretly, Penny thinks it'd be cool if they got to be in the running for Prom King or Queen but they're smart enough to know that those roles are basically filled before the prom even happens. But maybe this year is the year that the status quo is shaken up. It is the last chance, after all. Penny also has a wealth of expectations put on them by their family, but that's a can of worms that Penny refuses to open with classmates.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

Penny has a Twitch stream where they build model kits and interact with chat. To their surprise, it has earned her a decently niche following and some extra pocket change - it turns out people on the internet will totally donate to get Penny to read fanfiction or tongue twisters or innuendo comments while they paint some tabletop figures or build a Star Wars ship. Their Twitch handle is 'PenNPaper' which is also their Twitter handle. On Discord they just go by Penny as their display name with the username being amatotomato.

► style

Some people put in a lot of effort to make it seem like they didn't actually put in effort, but in Penny's case they actually don't put in much effort at all. Penny dresses as if they buy their entire wardrobe from Goodwill or Salvation Army, a whole lot of old jeans and baggy shirts like hockey jerseys or button up flannel and khakis. If there is any regularity with their outfits, it's a preference for sleeveless shirts. They wear Converse shoes a lot but they will wear a pair of shoes until its falling apart. The only consistent aspect of Penny's style is that their hair, unless in a play, is always shaggy and unkempt, and yet even then their bangs always seem to be styled slightlt differently every day.

► ride & everyday items

Penny's car of choice is an Alfa Romeo Giulia but they don't have one. What they do have and drive is a Volkswagen Arteon R-Line in Kingfisher Blue. Even that car is a bit richer than they'd care to admit, but it was a sweet sixteen gift. Or so they say.

► occupation

Penny is a barista at Plouf Cafe and Bakery. Penny does not bake anything but does enjoy tiramisu and the croissants. They do latte art and have gotten better at it though most are satisfied with them just making a heart in the latte.

► extracurricular activities

Penny is a member of the BHHS literary magazine and is a known figure in the theater department. Even if they don't get a part after auditioning, Penny will still help put on a play even if in a stagehand role.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

"A rules nerd. No, seriously, I have a bad habit of annoying the DM because they sometimes don't know the rules of the classes in the group. I mean, I don't do it often but I've done it enough that it's kind of a running gag with my group. I don't know, I think my friends would describe me as nice or friendly or whatever, it's boring. I don't have anything more exciting or interesting than that. I'd describe my friends as annoying because some of them bother me at work which is cool and all but then they start asking for free cakes but all I can give them is a biscotto. No, I don't know why an Italian cookie is in a French themed cafe but I don't make the menu, I just brew the coffee and get awkward flirts from customers."

In my free time I like to _______.

"Read books. I'm working through the fantasy section at the book store. I also started writing my own fantasy stories but don't tell anyone, they're bad and I don't want people to think I'm lame."

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

"How to be a good DM and run my own session."

This is how I define success and failure:

"Success is being able to go to bed at night with a smile. That's kinda corny. I don't know, man, who thinks about this stuff? I'm just happy when I get a B on a test I didn't study for, especially in science. Why do I need to know physics? I'm not gonna be a physicist and I already know what I need to about chemistry: fire is hot, don't touch it and if it smells like poison, roll a constitution save to not get poisoned."

I'm inspired by _______.

"I dunno, I guess Tilda Swinton and Naomi Novik?"

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

"20 Dollars by boygenius"
"Life on Mars by David Bowie"
"The Narcissist by Blur"
"Snail by The Smashing Pumpkins"
"Feel the Pain by Dinosaur Jr."
"Spit on a Stranger by Pavement"
"The Bard's Song by Blind Guardian"
"Heaven on Their Minds by Carl Anderson (from Jesus Christ Superstar)"
"Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers"
"Your Best American Girl by Mitski"

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

"In middle school I was cast in a pre-teen production of Treasure Island. I got to play the part of Billy Bones who, you know, is basically only in the play for one scene. I got to have a stage sword fight, it was cool. I got the part because no other kid, not even the boys, could have a piratey gravely rasp to their voice but I could even though I needed a lot of water and tea at home after. Anyway, the best part was after when someone in like third grade saw me in the hallway a few days later and said I was really good in the play. I never thought I'd consider stage acting until then. So I guess thanks to that kid, I hope they're doing cool."

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

"You don't have to hide, people are way more willing to accept you these days. Well, mostly. So don't be afraid to wear 'boys clothes' with 'girls clothes'."

The things that make me smile are _______.

"Rolling a nat 1 and having to embrace the chaos that brings. Getting a flower after a performance. I never know if that's, like, a flirty thing or not."

My whole life story in one sentence:

"Somehow won most of the charisma checks but failed everything else."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

► extra information

Really would prefer you stop asking about their parents or what their real name is.

What shows/movies are you watching?

Now that it's May 4th I am once again legally allowed to say that The Last Jedi is the best Star Wars movie

BHHS: Limitless

Tristan Rogers

_{Tristan Hope Rogers}

18 • Female • Bisexual • She/Her • Currently Single; Previously Dated Michael O'Connor

(FC: Alina Zagitova; Dialogue: 8E35EF)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

If there was an argument to be made for sports to be co-ed, that argument would be Tristan Rogers. While her brother might be more known to the fans of high school athletics - if only because men's sports are always more popular - Tristan is no slouch in that department. She can turn almost anything into a competition, even something as simple as eating lunch; add in her hatred of losing and Tristan can come off as a little intense when she is 'on'. She likes to think of herself as driven, determined, but not obsessed. Yes, she absolutely hates to lose but she'd rather lose in a good, fairly fought contest than win in a complete shut out. Some people have mistakenly placed her as part of The Elite, but the only connection she has is being in a...beneficial relationship with Mikey O'Connor. They aren't dating (anymore) which is what makes their relationship beneficial. As friends. Tristan can sometimes come off like a bully but it's never her intention - she just hates when people give up or, worse, don't even try. But if you show determination and drive and a willingness to try, she'll support anyone. Those fortunate enough to be her friend also know that outside the driven, fiercely competetive exterior is an interior gentle soul who loves animals and enjoys lazy days. Don't ever tell her she can't do something, she will find a way to do it.

Her intense drive is also why she seems to have trouble maintaining a relationship. And she has a tremendous fear of public speaking.

► current dilemma

Being the best might not be all its cracked up to be, especially in the context of high school athletics and doubly so when her brother seems to just be so much more naturally adept at things. Tristan wants to be the best, but she needs to learn that she doesn't have to be the best right now and also that being the best doesn't mean having to kill yourself with training. She'd like to step out of the shadow that she believes she's been living in and find what makes her happy on her own terms, whether that means going for the gold or changing paths to something less...demanding.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

Her main social media handle is Twitter and TikTok, the latter of which she often posts workout tips and clips of her in the gym or doing yoga. Her handle on those platforms is @JusTris
Her Instagram, which is mostly candids of her with her dog, Chopper, is @chopandawww

► style

For someone who doesn't have a sponsorship, Tristan wears a lot of Puma athleisure clothes. It's not uncommon for Tristan to show up to school wearing leggings or bike shors (those especially if she's wearing a skirt) and some combination of halter tops, sleeveless vests, and tee shirts. She will, of course, wear jeans but she doesn't go in for expensive, designer clothes. She dresses for comfort and function more than she does for fashion. At home on weekends she will wear sweatpants and old graphic tees. A secret known only to a very select few is that Tristan has reading glasses and she looks absolutely cute in them. They embarass her (in the cute way) so she only wears them when she's actually reading at night or in the privacy of her own home.

► ride & everyday items

Tristan and her brother share a hydro blue Jeep Wrangler High Tide. Tristan wanted it in punk'n orange but they compromised on the blue. It has a sunrider (like a droptop) which is great for having her hair blow in the breeze. Tristan does not like to drive and in fact gets driven to school by her brother (she controls the aux, of course). She will always prefer being the passenger than the driver no matter what. Her gym bag is almost always in the back seat of the jeep.

► occupation

Would like to maybe find a job. Would love to work at a Chinese restaurant.

► extracurricular activities

As much as she would like to be in the Go Home Club, Tristan spends a lot of her time at the gym. She's not trying to be swole like a body builder but she definitely has tone and keeps fit for maintennce as much as anything else. She's on the varsity volleyball team and has played sports all her life (not always for school) such as football (the soccer one), basketball, gymnastics, running, and brief training in MMA from her dad. She also does yoga.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

"Intense, competetive, driven, motivated. My brother would say I'm a 'passenger princess' but I don't know if that's a compliment like everything else. I know I can be a bit much, but losers only get remembered in the movies. I'm working on toning down the intensity but...the lessons instilled by my dad stuck with me even if he's a lot more mellow these days."

In my free time I like to _______.

"When I'm not in the gym or practice, I love watching kung fu movies with Chopper and a big bowl of popcorn. Or practicing Mandarin, I'm getting pretty good at it. I don't just live in the gym, I spend a lot of time outside of it. Oh, I also do yoga. And I love Chinese food. Shumai is, like, the best."

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

"To be fluent in Mandarin. Or at least able to do more than order food."

This is how I define success and failure:

"Is this a trick question? Success is when you win. Failure is when you don't."

I'm inspired by _______.

"Serena Williams. Florence Joyner. Clara Hughs. Amanda Nunes. Doctor Kureha."

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

"Drop Out by Doechii"
"Watch Me by The Pom Poms"
"Heist by El Tigr3"
"Super Powers by V6"
"Face Off by Tech N9ne"
"Never Look Back by Run The Jewels"
"MILK by JOYRYDE"
"Beach House by Carly Rae Jepsen"
"Do I Wanna Know? by The Arctic Monkeys"
"Super Bass by Nicki Minaj"
"Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift"

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

"Beating my brother in a race. He swears that he let me win but I know I beat him. Also, going camping with the four of us, mom, dad, Tyler, and me. Tyler and I had a competition to see who won between me starting a campfire and him putting up the tent. He cheated and got help from our parents. I totally would've won. I caught more fish than him though. But he ate more than me. I made a better smores, though. Oh, and the first time Chopper greeted me when I came home. That was a great day."

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

"You do kinda look cute in those reading glasses."

The things that make me smile are _______.

"Chopper. Tony Leung, I swear if I had the chance... Obviously winning, good competiion. Chinese food after a game. Or any time. Old kung fu movies."

My whole life story in one sentence:

"Left the shadow to be on the winner's podium."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

► extra information

Her father, Sawyer (FC: Matthew Fox), was a former MMA fighter who was forced to retirement after a bad injury where he got super into medicinal marijuana and eventually recreational. This is thanks in no small part to his wife, Dawn Rogers (FC: Elizabeth Mitchell) who was his rehab trainer. The two of them own and operate a dispensary called Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood which has allowed the husband and wife duo to cultivate and sell their own strains.
Has a dog named Chopper. He's an Akita and yes he's named for the famous doctor of the Straw Hats.

BHHS: Limitless

_{Timestamp: After first bell, during homeroom
Location: The Morning Show news studio
Dani @Fabricant451, Sully and Rye @Aces Away}

____________________________________________________________________

“Gooood morning BHHS and welcome back to another day of chaos and classes!" Rye opened up from his spot to Sully’s left, television smile in place and tapping fingers hiding safely behind the front panel of the newsdesk. Why had Sully had to bring up him and AJ literally minutes before airing and then leave him with no answers? The dude really didn’t know how to talk to people properly, he should know by now that leaving a conversation with no closure stressed Rye out. On top of that, he had clocked movement in the window of the door to the hallway and saw his best friend peeking through when she absolutely should have been in her homeroom. Oh god, what happened? The day had barely even started and he was going to end up hyperventilating in an empty classroom by the end of it. “What a week, and it’s still not done!"

“Nobody slept on Pajama Day, in fact y’all really ate with that pancake contest. Ate and left no crumbs, in the case of first place winner Dash Day," Sully stepped in, barely glancing at their notes. He couldn’t believe this was part of his work scholarship requirements.

“Everyone sported their best attire on Tuesday, really dodging embarrassment," Rye emphasized, doing his best not to roll his eyes at how cheesy they were being.

“I am legally obligated to say that on Wednesday you all dressed as cowboys." DJ, on the right of the broadcast table, was very clearly not reading from the pre-approved script. If she had, she might well have died at having to mention how well everyone lassoed up a fit for cowboy day. “You know the movie for Wednesday was Wild Wild West, right? That’s not even about cowboys! They’re cops! You can see Will Smith’s di-" The camera, naturally, abruptly cut away from the wide shot of the three hosts for the moment.

“And you were all super crafty on Thursday," Rye continued in a monotone, already dropping his cheek into his hand and flapping the papers in disgust. “Come on you guys are you trying to get us blacklisted from parties with this cra-"

“And today!" Sully cut in, smile still perfectly in place despite how much he wished to act like his fellow co-hosts. This position really was used as a punishment, wasn’t it? “We’re sure y’all’re really Bringin’ It On in your fierce red and black fits. Keep that pep up for the pep rally later today, you’ll be excited to know it gets you out of class early."

“Hear hear!" Rye chanted with little enthusiasm.

“Of course, attendance isn’t mandatory but it is highly encouraged. After all, the high school athletes really like having their egos boosted before they go off to college and fail to get scouted by the professional leagues!" DJ’s smile was as bright as Sully’s, though her tone of voice was so dipped in sarcasm that in a weird way she almost resembled a professional broadcaster in cadence if nothing else. “And for all you dateless losers out there, don’t forget that today is the last day to get tickets for Homecoming. And no, no one believes you that you have a girlfriend in Canada who couldn’t come to the dance because of travel issues. Sure, you might spend the whole time sitting by the wall, but at least the punch is free! You two have dates for the dance, don’t you?" DJ threw back to her co-hosts, her smile remaining so wide that it was almost starting to look deranged.

Rye went static next to Sully and the boy in a baseball cap tilted his head down so that the camera couldn’t capture his eye roll past the brim. That was just vindictive for no reason.

“You know we don’t," Sully’s smile never broke as he turned to stare Dani in the eyes, and he nudged Rye’s leg with his own beneath the desk so the other boy could cover up the look on his face. “I’m too busy buildin’ sets and fixin’ all the things people break around here to be askin’ someone out for a single night. Why would you ask someone out for one night?"

“Holy- wow I’m not touching that one, buddy. That was such an innocent statement," Rye cut himself off, trying to turn away from furthering the conversation. He grinned largely at the camera. “Speaking of innocence, if any of you are planning on losing yours at or after homecoming, condoms and other barriers are strongly encouraged. We Pirates support safe practices."

“You heard it here first, Pirates, we encourage a healthy sex life for the students!" Dani placed a finger to her ear and after an uncomfortably awkward pause turned to the solo camera like she was about to deliver a breaking news story. “I’ve just been informed that while BHHS isn’t an abstinence school, the affiliates of BHHS do not condone or endorse students having sex. And remember: if they keep trying after you say no, it doesn’t mean they love you and counseling is available during all hours of the school day." Dani turned back in her seat, facing forward as the feed went back to the wide shot.

“So, any announcements for the school, gentlemen? News for the student body?"

The Morning Show, as it was every day that DJ was in front of the camera, was chaos on one side of him and disaster on the other. Sully didn’t even want to be on the Morning Show, it had been a requirement, yet somehow he was working the hardest to keep this train on its track and he had no idea why that became his job too. Sully looked down at his notes, taking a deep breath.

“We do, Dani! In recent news, the Arts club set up a new mural facin’ the back lot, meant to represent the blossomin’ opportunities and friendships created and fostered by the school," Sully’s interpretation was that that was a bunch of bullshit. It was just a bunch of flowers and some sun rays but hey, whatever keeps your funding he supposed.

“The wads of gum stuck to the wall of the hallway leading to the boiler room have been cleaned off and the wall repainted, the maintenance staff has asked us to remind the students that there are trash cans every twenty feet in this place so really, no need to be so ratchet, y’all have so much access and amenities-"

“Don’t forget, Pirates," Sully cut off before the boy got on another rant about how rich kids treat the custodial and maintenance staff. It would run out the whole rest of the time limit. “That the theme of the dance is Hollywood! So bring your best and be ready to walk the red carpet for your paparazzi, played willingly by the Photography club underclassmen, so be sure to strike some killer poses for a chance to end up in the yearbook."

“And don’t make any scenes or mistakes, for the same reason!" Rye chirped with a large smile while Sully clenched his jaw in a sign of frustration. Ope, moving on then. “Dani? Any club cancellations or changes in schedule?"

“Of course there are, Rye! The chess club has canceled its meeting today; no reason was given but it’s probably due to lack of anyone giving a crap about chess!" DJ paused long enough for what she imagined to be laughter from the audience watching in their classrooms. “The film club’s Friday screening has been postponed due to the events of Homecoming, because why watch something entertaining when you can watch the thrilling world of high school football - a sport that is beloved only by middle aged dads who peaked at their Homecoming game! I’ve also been told that due to the earlier schedule today that tutoring will be unavailable after the pep rally, so you’d better hope you’re prepared beforehand but if you need tutoring at this school it just means your parents don’t have enough money to bribe your teachers!"

Another pause, complete with DJ looking absolutely thrilled with herself, especially as she looked around to see the response from the behind the camera staff. Sure, she might get another detention out of it, but studies showed that students retained information when it was delivered with such sarcastic glee. The study, of course, was made up by DJ but pepper any bit of information with enough words and people would be willing to believe it as truth.

“For other club inquiries, check with your club advisors! And maybe tell them to let us know next time so you can cut out the middle man! Because we work for you, for free, which technically makes us slaves. Isn’t that right, Sully?"

“I think I’m technically an indentured servant," He answered plainly before he could think of what he was saying. Letting Dani’s last shot finally break his professional air as he realized what he said, Sully slumped over the desk on his elbows, hands grasping the back of his own neck desperately, kneading at the tensing muscles beneath. Staring blankly at the desk panel before him, thinking about the terms of his scholarship, his contract, he muttered, “Oh my god, ^{am I?}”

“While Sully has an existential crisis that should have come about when he first signed his soul away on the dotted line," Rye jumped in, patting the other boy’s back consolingly but not looking his way. The show must go on. “Remember upperclassmen, it’s never too early to send in your college applications but there is absolutely a point where it becomes too late, and your counselors will be getting a hold of you all for individual meetings regarding your life trajectory. Because that’s something to decide when you’re barely legal and up to your eyeballs in hormones, real great time to agree to spend tens of thousands in tuition and be sure of what you’re gonna do for the rest of your life. DJ," Rye turned to his best friend’s sister, happy to be matching energy with her now that he wasn’t the target of her comments. Sully was still staring blankly into the middle distance , and he’d certainly check on the other boy once the recording light turned off, but for right now they had a show to finish and Sully was not even here behind his eyes anymore. “any final words before we sign off? Sully tapping out gave us some free airtime today."

“For those in the know, I was informed that the theme of Saturday’s totally unsanctioned and unaffiliated event has a theme of Risky Business, because nothing says ‘good party theme’ like a movie where Tom Cruise has sex with a prostitute! If you’re not in the know, well ask yourself why that’s the case and then try to befriend someone who is! But finally, and this is straight from me, if I wind up in detention, please don’t talk to me because I hate you. You wanna sign us off, Rye, before Sully starts acting like Howard Beale from Network? Look it up, people, it won four Oscars." Dani turned her head towards her co-hosts, a look of pure satisfaction on her face. It was no wonder they rarely let her in front of the camera.

Rye grinned back while Sully honest to god groaned into his own forearms. Mr. Wells was giving him the cue to wrap things up and Rye had a lot of respect for the man, even if his actions in front of the camera never showed it. When you spent enough nights over someone’s house and in his daughter’s bed, you develop a weird understanding of each other.

“ARRRRRRRRRRRRRight Pirates! And yes, I have to do that per my contract, let’s seize this day and all the treasures it can offer us, plunder that booty well, and maybe find me at that party if you wanna make that more literal," Mr. Well’s hand motion became more demanding and sharp, telling Rye he may have pushed the envelope a bit, but honestly if Riley wanted the three hosts to follow the script he should demand the writing team do a better job, and if he didn’t want them saying lewd things then he should have someone at the ready for live censorship. “This is the slaves of the Morning Show, signing off for the day, see you psychos in the halls!"

As the cameras were cutting, Dani held up the back of an index card where her script notes were written. In bold writing were just the words ‘SEND HELP’ as Dani pointed at the message before the feed was cut entirely. As soon as she got the sign that the cameras were off, Dani once again placed her feet on top of the desk as she leaned back in her chair. “I think we’re gonna win the Emmy for that one, guys. Truly our finest work. I honestly thought you were gonna start screaming, Sully. Maybe next time." If today’s broadcast had been a trainwreck, then Dani was happy to have been one of the conductors on the train. In a weird way, she was gonna miss this job when she graduated.

“I’m gonna lose my scholarship in the last semester because’a you guys," Sully mumbled into his forearms before finally freeing himself of his own grasp and looking at the two creatures of misfortune that loved to sit on his shoulders. “What did I ever do to you?"

“Does rejecting my flirtations when we first met count? I didn’t take it personally, but that is something that you did."

“Your what? When?"

“Nevermind, buddy, stay pure. DJ, I’m gonna go see why your sister has had her eyes locked onto me through the door window for the past ten minutes, see you later," Rye popped out of his seat with no further fanfare and made a beeline for the exit, only stumbling once along the way as he got distracted trying to get his earbuds out of his pocket and connected to his phone. The silence after the lights go off always made the ringing in his ears much more apparent, and he had a feeling he couldn’t be overstimulated for whatever conversation had JJ literally waiting for him in the hall.

“Am I really an indentured servant?" Sully asked DJ quietly, managing to look like a kicked puppy and a aggrieved kitten in one fell swoop.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Sully." DJ offered condolences by way of a patronizing pat on the back. “But if it makes you feel any better, you can call it an apprenticeship. You might save some dignity that way." DJ looked towards the door window but Rye’s swiftness meant she barely caught a glimpse of her sister. It had to have been JJ. If it was important, DJ would find out later. “Look, you didn’t say anything off color…for the most part. You’ll be fine. Buck up, or whatever. No one’s gonna even remember this by last period." She could not have sounded any less interested in this pep talk, but with Rye off flirting or whatever with JJ, the responsibility for perking up the sad puppy unfortunately fell to her. “Come on, it’s too early to be so depressed. Can’t you internalize it, like we all do?"

“What do you think I’m doin’ most of the time?" He asked back with little heat, releasing a heavy sigh and pushing his chair back. That was much less assuring than she probably thought it was, but he also didn’t think the girl cared much. Just as she’d suggested, he got to work on internalizing it and returning to his normal school persona. He didn’t care much for upholding reputation, but he also wasn’t a fan of open vulnerabilities. “I’m gonna go get another coffee before the underclassmen dump it, you want any?”

“Nah, one cup is enough for me. If I had any more I might lose my charming personality." DJ at least joined Sully in pushing her chair back from the table. As much fun as it was to be granted a late pass for class, she couldn’t stay in the broadcast room all day. She’d tried. “But seriously, Sully, don’t worry about it. Everyone could see you were trying to keep things on track or whatever. Every good entertainment act needs the straight man. I don’t know where I’m going with this but just…you know…relax. Because it’s really exhausting trying to cheer you up. I hate doing that. Cheering people up. Like in general, not just you specifically. You’re fine, okay?" Another pat on the back from DJ. It was the only move she had.

“I-" He had no idea how to respond to that, brows furrowing and head tilting to the side as words and reaction began to escape him. He wasn’t genuinely worried about losing his scholarship; slowly, he’d built up enough of a following that he was comfortably paying the majority of his uncovered tuition. If it truly came down to it, Sully could be dead broke for the rest of the year and put all his income toward paying tuition, but that would mean having nothing to make his ma’s life easier, and that shit could not slide. Add to all of that that Dani’s announcement of the Risky Business party reminded him of his deal with Ethan Green, and Sully was realizing that once he walked outside the studio doors there would be no peace or calm for the next forty eight hours in the very least. He needed that coffee.

Shaking his head to clear the fog that was rolling in, Sully just nodded to the shorter host and reached up to fiddle with his hat’s brim as he turned and walked away from her, no longer even connected enough to the conversation to remember to say goodbye. Coffee always helped when he started struggling with thoughts and words, just like anyone else. At least, that’s what he always told himself.

“I should be a motivational speaker. Every time I talk I’m motivated to never talk to people again. Nice." DJ looked proud of herself though kept herself from pumping her fist in delight. “Good show, Mr. Dubs. Let’s do it again some time, say, next week? Alright." Dani was out of the door before Mr. Wells could even think of giving her a detention slip.

Boldly go where no one has gone before! A Star Trek-inspired RP!

Color me interested

BHHS: Limitless

For the fourth time in as many minutes the balding, bearded middle-age-by-age-twenty-seven employee tried to get the attention of Leila Webb, whose attention was on the slow rotating grill where they kept the hot dogs. It was much too early for a hot dog, but Leila watched as the questionable tubes of technically meat remained sickly heated until such a time as they were blessed with the gift of poisoning a customer’s insides. Leila wanted to be that customer. Leila had been that customer many times. Something about the grease and the eternal shine of the heat lamp made the pink cylinder taste horrible but delectable. Leila had eaten so many of those greasy disaster meat tubes that she could recall the taste, texture, and smell of them like she had perfect recall, but the reason she stared wasn’t because she so desperately wanted one despite the time of day; Leila stared because looking at the hot dogs filled her with the sort of melancholy that no one could really describe until it happened to them. It was the same look she gave the worker at the movie theater when they were making a fresh batch of popcorn. It was the same look she gave when someone opened a can of soda or when people clinked together glasses or when people winced when someone accidentally scratched the chalkboard.

Leila Webb was probably the only person who could look at hot dogs and almost start to cry. And for the fifth time, the man behind the counter tried to get Leila’s attention, this time by slamming his hand on the counter. Leila jumped. Leila blinked. Leila turned her head towards the counter and realized in her hand was a cereal bar and a single serving carton of milk she had to pay for. “I’m sorry?” She asked, blinking several times a second as she realized her own error. The man, whose patience was lost well before Leila stood in line, asked Leila the question she’d been asked for all of her life.

Sometimes when Leila watched the hot dogs or the popcorn or even the trees blowing in the breeze, she wanted to ask someone an incredibly difficult question but every time she couldn’t work up the nerve. She doubted anyone would have an answer, but the closest she came to going through with asking anyway was when she was at the Sunshine Diner one weekend morning and watched as bacon fried on the pan, as eggs were flipped to make an omelet, as coffee was being poured into a mug. The waitress saw Leila looking and asked what she was staring at. “What does it sound like?” Leila asked in turn, to a confused response from the waitress. When asked to repeat the question, Leila just shook her head and ordered a strawberry waffle with sausage links.

Some people held the belief that the worst part of Leila’s condition must have been the fear of not knowing if she’d ever hear again, but as frightening a prospect as that was, Leila was diagnosed early enough that she had the better part of her young life to adjust and adapt. Yes, the early days with the implant saw her curling up in a ball and covering her ears and shaking her head as her parents tried to calm her down, but the doctor had said there would be…complications in adjusting to her life. What she didn't know was that those complications would be her parents sounding like alien robots buzzing and crackling in her ear as they comforted her. That music would sound like a record being played in reverse and through a pitch altering program to make it sound like a droning roar or like the stinging hiss of a snake flicking its tongue directly onto her brain. She didn’t have nightmares during that period of her life because her day to day life was already a horror movie of noise.

The voices of others returned over time as the implant rallied the familiar cadence of speech to her brain. Music wasn’t as fast but it returned with a vengeance, with every song she listened to now feeling like a concert was being played directly onto her brain, every snare, every bass line, every voice digging their aural nails into her lobes. Sometimes the pitch was off, sometimes it was a little warbly, but if it meant not having to listen to the scratching recordings of hellspawn then she was more than willing to accept that trade. The day she could hear voices and songs again, Leila hugged her parents like it was Christmas morning and she just got a brand new bike.

But it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t until later that Leila realized she couldn’t hear little things. The things people heard every day and just paid little attention to. Ice melting in a glass. Leaves brushing against a window. The sizzle of bacon frying in a pan. Popcorn popping in a microwave. Eggs cracking. The doppler effect of a car speeding past. A pin dropping in a quiet room. So many things in her life had sound but she couldn’t hear them. Even her own fingers snapping had to be done close enough to hear ears for her to hear anything other than the muffled nothing. Her eyes could see that a snap happened, but her brain just couldn’t replicate the sound.

How could she ask someone to describe the sound of bacon cooking? Of the wind blowing a tree? It would be like asking someone to describe the color red without using the word red. So all Leila could do when she saw something that she should hear was stare and wonder and wish.

The man behind the counter asked Leila the question she’d been asked all of her life. And Leila replied, “Yes, I am.”

Leaving the convenience store with her cereal bar already half eaten, Leila took a deep breath of the muggy California air and took out her phone. The wallpaper on her home screen was of her, Dani Jones, Parker Jones, and Ellie Walters posing in the middle of Webb-Heads - Dani was giving the middle finger while Leila was giving a peace sign. Just looking at the screen made Leila smile. For some people it was difficult to make friends at a place like Beverly Hills High School especially when a not insignificant amount of students dealt in friendships the way noble houses in Game of Thrones dealt in alliances, but Leila was blessed to have friends who treated her like anyone else. When Dani called her ‘Fingers’ because of Leila’s use of ASL, it didn’t come with Dani widening her eyes and being immediately apologetic like what tended to happen any time someone made a comment about someone being deaf for not answering their phone call while Leila was in ear shot. Yeah, it was annoying being known as the deaf girl, but it was considerably less annoying than people feeling like they had to walk on eggshells around her.

Hell, Leila didn’t even know what that sounded like.

The one benefit to Leila’s condition was that it put her above the social politics of high school. Her royal high cunt, Naomi Davis, basically informed her sycophants and wannabes that Leila was ‘off limits’ which sounded great on paper but in practice was like telling people that you weren’t allowed to make a comment about someone’s very noticeable mole. Leila knew well enough that people talked behind her back because people talked behind everyone’s back. That didn’t bother her. What bothered her was being treated like she had a contagious disease all because of being ‘off limits’. Sure, no one kicked her out of parties, but most of the time when she went there was the unmistakable feeling of knowing everyone was giving the side eye and wondering why she was there. A presence tolerated but rarely welcomed. Off limits. It was no wonder Leila was so glad to have friends like the ones on her wallpaper.

But smiling at the sight of her friends was only part of the reason for opening her phone. During her sophomore year, a classmate asked if she was some kinda robot or cyborg like from Cyberpunk and at the time Leila just blinked and said no by slowly shaking her head. Leila still remembered the look of disappointment on the student’s face. If she was asked that now her answer might skew differently. In a way, was she not a cyborg? She had a machine that sent things to her brain on her ear, that was pretty cool, wasn’t it? And the machine did more than help her hear voices and loud sounds which she demonstrated every single day. Some kids got in trouble for walking the halls or sitting in class with headphones in. They just didn’t know the tech.

Leila thumbed to her music folder on her phone and queued up a song. Her phone connected to her implant with Bluetooth and the sounds of music began to dance their electric signals along every surface of her brain.A concert for her ears only. Suddenly the world moved like a visualizer mixed with a prescription glasses commercial.


Turn Out Right

Every footstep Leila took towards school sent a little soundwave like a drumstick hitting the snare, cars drove past and their tailights left a trail straight out of Tron, the sky above her turned a brighter shade of blue - almost like she had stepped out of the real world and into a rotoscoped cartoon. She walked and her footsteps turned to rhythmic hops. Stepping forward turned her body sideways and then she danced two steps back while the grass next to her danced in the visible gust of wind that made Leila twirl, the colors of her red striped shirt swirl and blend out of her, creating her own little trail of color as she half-walked, half-danced up the sidewalk.

“It never seems to turn out right…” Leila lip synched along to the song, her eyes closing to let the music and the familiar steps guide her forward. To passersby she probably looked ridiculous, swaying her hips, dancing, her head bopping to a song only she could hear, but Leila didn’t care. As she approached the school grounds, Leila extended her arms like an airplane and soared. The colorful winds carried her into the clouds, their pillowy cotton strands passing through her like a hug from an overstuffed plush toy. A plane flew alongside her and passengers stuck their heads out of the window to sing along with her, clapping their hands along to the gentle beat of the song’s percussion track. The sun winked at her and she waved towards that bright, friendly ball of light before beginning her final descent back down to earth.

The song came to an end and Leila opened her eyes to find herself standing in the quad of BHHS, breathing increased like she had just come from gym class warm ups, and the inevitable rush of disappointment wafted over her. Back at school. The music video was over. As much as she would love to go through the school day listening to music on her brain, she knew it would only tank her grades even with an ASL translator dictating the lessons to her. Those blissful moments when she was dancing her way to school were addicting but like with any addiction she had to know when to dial it back. She had to know when to keep herself grounded.

Leila looked around the quad and saw people talking, another group of people laughing, two guys giving each other a high five and an elaborate handshake; Leila saw all of these students and the only thing she heard was her own breathing. Life going on all around her and more than ever she felt like she was window shopping for something she would never truly be part of. Once again she took out her phone and once again she looked at her home screen and once again she smiled. Leila might not have had her hearing but she had something much more important.

Maintaining the smile, Leila hit the replay button on her phone and began her swaying steps towards her homeroom, blissfully uncaring of who saw her. Let them see. Let them talk. They didn’t exist for the next three minutes. For those three minutes, the only thing that existed was Leila and her wonderful, colorful world.

BHHS: Limitless

____________________________________________________________________

_{@Fabricant451@Hey Im Jordan@LovelyComplex}

Room 302 in Beverly Hills High had the best acoustics in the whole building, at least according to Andrew Green. It was anyone’s guess if it were true or not, and really Andy didn’t even think it was. The reality of it was that 302 was tucked in the back corner of the third floor, and no one ever went up there by choice. Andy had been able to secure a key to the room years ago, and he quietly used it as his personal practice space in the mornings and between classes when he managed to sneak away. It was his happy place! The only other person who had a key and wasn’t a staff member was his brother, though Andy was hopeful Ethan wouldn’t bother him this morning. He was in the zone.

He stood in front of a podium at the front of the empty classroom, with his violin tucked behind his neck. Slowly, he plucked at the strings as he found the rhythm of the song. He had heard it a thousand times, maybe even more than a thousand, but hearing wasn’t the same as playing. His brother always called it ‘downloading’ and Andy liked that phrase.

It really did feel like he was downloading the music sometimes! He played the first few notes once, twice, a third time and then it clicked. He had it! His bowstring moved across the violin as his deft fingers slid up and down, pressing down on the different strings to manipulate the instrument to speak the language he wanted it to speak. Quietly, Andy began to sing the lyrics as he played. “I can’t remember anything, can’t tell if this is true or dream…” He did not have a bad voice. Of course he didn’t, his grandmother was the songbird of her generation, but Andy did not sing with his whole chest. He was not offkey, but he wasn’t loud either. There was skill with the way his fingers moved, but his voice was low and almost shaky as he sang and allowed his mind to wander.

“Deep down inside, I feel to scream… this terrible silence stops me…” He shouldn’t have started thinking about things. He got in his own head too often. Andy found himself thinking about the traumatic experience he had, and wondering if he was ungrateful for being so… squishy as a result of something that happened in the past. By birthright, he would have no future problems. He could, and likely would, always get his way. His parents were both in their own way extremely confident individuals. His brother ran the school and would probably run the world when it was all said and done.

So why couldn’t Andy even take control of his own destiny? It was a bit sad, he reasoned, locking himself in a room where no one could hear him so he could practice the music he actually liked in the best way he could: shredding violin covers. In and of itself, that was kind of stupid. He should have had the balls to at least show his family and friends the work he’d done, to show them his passion for music that wasn’t written a hundred years before he was born.

A frown had crept upon his face as he approached the harder part of the song, near the end. Was he pathetic? Maybe, but he wasn’t sure how not to be! Andy wasn’t even able to tell his grandma, who had groomed him carefully for success ever since the incident, that he wanted to show her his covers. How was he supposed to tell her he didn’t even want to play violin? How was he supposed to tell her he wanted to be a rockstar?

He just didn’t have the courage.

Amy Kwon had never met a door that she couldn’t open or a line she couldn’t cross. Before the end of last year, before everything changed, doors just had a habit of opening themselves for her whenever she needed. Hapless members of the student body trying to appeal to her and maybe be acknowledged with a passing word of thanks or, better, a nod of the head as she walked through; now those same people shut the doors in her face like teens running away from a slasher movie villain. But doors were no obstacle for someone with a violent streak and a need to slaughter dumb teenagers and neither were they for someone whose streak ran a little less violent but still as insatiable a lust as blood. But of course, she was getting ahead of herself.

When Amy Kwon walked the halls, she moved in slow motion in the eyes of those not wise enough to turn their heads. The halls of BHHS were like her own personal Red Sea, students parting the way for entirely different reasons than they did when non-pariahs like the Hive walked by. For the populars, students getting out of the way was expected; for Amy, it was out of self preservation. Ever since her big debut at the start of senior year, where she showed up wearing knee high heeled boots and a skirt short enough that simply turning and not moving her leg fast enough would flash onlooking eyes a brief look at the Fruit of Eden, and a top that only technically met the definition of a shirt by way of having holes for head and arms to go through. The disciplinary staff in the slip they gave her said that ‘Strippers had more modesty than Ms. Kwon’s outfit’.

On Pajama Day she wasn’t even allowed to attend class until she went home to change. “I sleep nude, you know.” She was heard saying to the staff that formed a little barricade to protect the eyes of the student body. She didn’t show up naked, of course. She had underwear on. And a short robe. They were silk.

Pushing the envelope and embracing what people thought about her was who Amy was. The pink aegyo princess was dead and the fiery phoenix that turned boys to men and women to jealousy had risen. As was the case today, Amy had little desire to attend class and she had even less to show up at the pep rally later. Who gave a fuck about school pride, about a meaningless football game, about a dance where everyone in attendance was just waiting for it to be over so they could go fumble while putting a condom on and giving someone the most disappointing ride of their life in the backseat of their overpriced ego boosts. She wasn’t even wearing school colors today, but she was wearing black.

As she did most mornings, Amy was wandering the halls like an animalistic predator searching for her meat in the grass. The ones that knew her well knew to give her a wide berth. Those that didn’t would quickly learn that Amy Kwon didn’t chew her food after she finished playing with it: she devoured it whole. As her shoes clacked along the floor, the sound of music wafted to her ears. Well, some would call it music, others would call it the warblings of an instrument beloved only by nerds and those softer than soft serve ice cream. Perfect. The music carried her forward, towards a back corner on the third floor. It grew louder as she came closer, and the singing joined the chorus as Amy licked her deep, perky, ruby red lips. Under her smirk were teeth sharpened to such a fine point that her victims would have their flesh separated from their body as soon as she sank said teeth into them.

Metaphorically, of course.

The door to 302 was locked. But Amy had a bobby pin. And Amy had various skills. No door could keep her out. Or in. The door unlocked after she stimulated the pins and Amy stepped inside, eyes spotting the rabbit in the grass. She’d seen worse. She’d tasted better. But she was hungry. And she was bored. “You shouldn’t be here, little Green. You’re going to be late for class. I didn’t say to stop playing.” Her eyes were narrowed towards Andy as she stood in the doorway, her left leg bent just slightly forward enough to show off more leg under her short, black dress that clung to her body like it was made of leather. “Sing for me.”

When she let herself into the room, Andy immediately came to a halt, with the music stopping abruptly. He knew who was in the room with him, but he wasn’t sure how she’d gotten into the room. “Did you pick the lock?” Did she call him little Green? There were so many questions in his head. It wasn’t even fair to call him the ‘little Green.’ No one ever believed him, but he was almost two inches taller than Ethan was, and he was older too! He did not think Amy would believe him if he said either of those things. Honestly? Andy didn’t think she would go for anything he said. Why was she even here? Would she even answer him?

He didn’t know what to do or say. What would Ethan do in a situation like this? Probably say something cool. Andy had nothing cool to say, and hardly anything interesting to offer. As he stared at her, he dropped his violin to his side and shook his head. “Sing what? I have to know the words.” He tried to deflect as best he could, but he’d never been so close to someone so dangerously attractive before. How was he supposed to act? He felt a burning desire to do what she said, and a smaller voice in the back of his head telling him to tell her to fuck off. Andy had been ignoring that voice for close to decade, and this was no different.

“I’m not really a good singer though.” He said, his eyes darting around the room as he searched for an exit plan. Briefly, he couldn’t help but let his eyes land on her. She really was dangerously attractive. Were there more girls who were that attractive at their school? How could anyone think someone that pretty was a bad girl? Quickly, he put his eyes back on the door.

Unfortunately for Andy, Amy noticed the moment when his eyes wandered just enough to make Amy widen her grin from playful to dangerous. She had spun her little web as soon as she entered the room - of course she had picked the lock - and now the little fly was caught. No escape. No going back. Amy took a single step further into the room, inching her way towards Andy the way a hawk circled its prey before diving in for the kill. “Sing me something romantic. Something that will make my skin shiver in delight. Something that makes a girl want to throw her panties on the stage. Something…sexy.” Every word she spoke was deliberate and every sentence had her stepping closer and closer to Andy. Her tone was like honey but she spoke them like poison; how could something so sweet be so…dangerous?

Andy had never made eye contact with someone for as long as he was holding it with Amy. For a second, his breathing hitched and as his breathing picked up he wondered if he was going to die or have an anxiety attack. Why was she even here!? He locked the door for a reason! It was evil to step inside like this. But he didn’t speak, he just found himself staring at her.

“Don’t think, little Green. Look at me. Look.” She snapped her fingers. The acoustics really were good in this place. “Sing anything that comes to mind when you look at me. Impress me. I’m worth it. Don’t you think?”

In what was considered somewhat groundbreaking for the Green family, Andrew Green had never smoked the devil’s lettuce. And yet, he found himself desperately wanting a joint at that moment. He’d never even been high before, but he’d listened to his father and his brother sing THC’s praises enough that he felt he knew when a puff or seventeen might come in handy. Unfortunately for Andy, when he inhaled, it wasn’t Mary Jane that he took a drag from. It was Amy Kwon, and she smelled… “Whoa. You smell good. Oranges are my favorite.” His cheeks immediately ignited red after he spoke; that was the wrong thing to say from anyone’s perspective he reasoned. He bit his tongue, and wracked his mind looking for songs.

There were a thousand songs about sex. There were a thousand songs about pretty girls. Were there any songs about Amy? He knew so many, yet in that moment it felt like he knew so few. He searched, and searched and he found one. The look of clarity on his face was obvious as he placed the violin on the desk with the sheet music he’d made as an arrangement for One. He went to the supply closet in the room and opened it up, pulling out a guitar case.

This wasn’t really what she asked for, and he knew that. It may not have even been what she wanted. The problem was, the only song he could think of that made him think of Amy wouldn’t work on a violin. “I’m not as practiced on guitar. And please - nevermind.” Andy found himself thinking about warning Amy to not tell his grandma, but then he double guessed himself and figured if he said that to Amy, she might leave. He did not want her to leave under any circumstances. He undid the clasps holding the case closed, and pulled out an acoustic guitar. Only his brother knew about his tendency to practice the instrument, and it had been Ethan’s idea to hide one in the room so he could play it when the mood took him.

And it had taken him. If he were a bit more flowery, he could have said Amy was his muse. He sat down on the desk closest to Amy, carefully placing his feet on the chair to steady himself and brought the guitar to his knee, strumming across the guitar. As he moved his fingers, it took a second for the song to take shape, but this was a song he’d downloaded long ago. When he began the lyrics, it was obvious what the song was.

“Special, you think you’re special, you do
I can see it in your eyes.”

For the first time in his life, Andy tried to sing with his whole chest. It wasn’t easy, but with Amy’s icy gaze and the scent of her orange perfume still in his nostrils, Andy found the motivation to discover the voice he had done his best to hide. Though his eyes darted down to his hands once or twice, he did his best to keep their eyes locked. This was, frankly, the most intimate and sexually charged moment Andy had ever had in his life, and he was more than well aware that anything could fuck it up.

“I can see it when you laugh at me,
Look down on me and walk around on me,
Just one more fight… about your leadership.”

He still wasn’t sure it was the kind of song she wanted, but Andy was singing as best he could - still keeping his voice low enough that prying ears might not hear him. He wasn’t sure he could handle it if more than one person were here when he sang.

Amy would be lying if she said she was familiar with the song, but in truth the song itself didn’t matter; what mattered was that Andy Green had known Amy for all of a few minutes and was already willing to serenade her at the snap of a finger. What mattered was that Andy Green behaved. They all behaved. The ones who thought they could turn the page and control Amy were boring. Chest pounding brutes, foot tapping bitches, a legion of losers who thought they could be Captain Saveaho by trying to exert a little social media domination and get Amy on her knees instead of on top where she was comfortable. Amy Kwon didn’t need to be saved. Amy Kwon didn’t want to be saved.

How long would this toy last, she wondered. He didn’t seem as… hardy as some of her other toys, but considering the name that came with this one it was like finding something valuable in mint condition. Little Andy Green… whisper the right words in his ears, give him an intoxicating scent… Amy could utterly ruin this boy and he’d thank her for doing it. The thought alone kept the smile and knowing, narrowed eyes aimed in his direction; he probably thought she was smiling for the song but the only sounds she was hearing were the future cries as Andy experienced a taste of heaven.

It sounded like bedsprings.

“You look better with a guitar than a violin.” Amy spoke as the song tapered off. “Your fingers must be…talented…to make the strings dance like that.” Amy was done being subtle. She draped a hand on Andy’s shoulder, standing just beside him but still standing over him. Her head was lowered and tilted, filling his nostrils with more of that perfume he so clearly liked the smell of. Who knew the devil on the shoulder wore Chanel Coco Mademoiselle? “Do you want to duet with me… little Green?” A deadly whisper, like a viper moments away from sticking its venomous fangs into the throat.

“He doesn’t,” Ethan sharply cut in, hearing the music at the end of the hall and knowing exactly who was playing it. He was the one who knew his brother’s secret and it was Ethan who heard his brother practice. No one else. He stood under the door casing not liking what he was seeing at all. His nostrils flared and his jaw tightened, all while he cracked his knuckles. Amy Kwon had her reputation and it was hard to deny the evidence that clearly showed she was not a good person. His brother didn’t need to be involved with someone malicious and cruel as Amy Kwon and Ethan doubted she was here with good intention. His twin was too inept in the social scene to see that he was prey and he was standing next to someone that wanted to kill him slowly but kill him no less.

Maintaining eye contact, his shoulders tensed, the Alpha of the Elite stormed deeper into the room, approaching his twin and the unexpected acquaintance Andy was making. “Get your hands off of him,” Ethan growled, hovering over the girl, clearly in defense and keeping his attention on his brother. He went from the she-devil to his literal other half. “Andy, seriously. Don’t listen to her. She’s a bitch trying to take you down with her and the last thing you need is to get stuck in a cage with a tiger.” Maybe, just maybe, that analogy would get Andy to think twice. He hoped so because the last thing Ethan Green wanted to do was touch… the devil herself.

“I wasn’t asking you.” Amy hissed towards Ethan without even looking in his direction. Ethan was a nuisance, a distraction, interference on the hunt and unfortunately for Amy it seemed the only thing he cared more about than hooking up with naive girls with loose lips was protecting his brother. The hand on Andy’s shoulder remained firmly in place, gripping a little tighter like her fingers were staking a claim, planting a flag of intent so Ethan would know that this wouldn’t be the end of things. Not if she had her way - and Amy Kwon always had her way in the end. “You can leave now, Ethan. I’m sure you have an STD test to take or something. Maybe a girl to disappoint for three minutes. Run along. Your brother is fine where he is.”

Her attention remained on Andy and a single finger traced from his shoulder up towards his jawline. Amy’s breath was hot on Andy’s skin, a deliberate heat that swam with the residual scent of her perfume. She wanted to intoxicate him with her very being, to make him so drunk on Amy that the only thing he would want was another hit. A single taste. “Isn’t that right, little Green?”

“You’re digging your fingers into my shoulder.” Andy was sensing a lot of tension between his brother and Amy. He wasn’t dense, he knew that Amy didn’t have a good reputation, but he was confused that someone had such a bad reputation his brother didn’t want to interact with them. The tiger comparison, Andy thought, was a little harsh. He threw his shoulder back a bit in an attempt to get Amy’s hand off of his shoulder and it didn’t budge - her fingers just tightened.

Was she for real? Amy was the last person to be talking about STDS. And why was his brother being so… fuck, his parents really did a number on him. No one would think they’re actually twins because there was nothing cool about Andrew Green at all. He was such a nerd. “Bitch please, your vagina has been used more than Google.” Ethan really did not want to put his hands on a girl, even if she was demonic and a whore and evil. His parents taught him that it doesn’t matter how much a girl makes you angry, don’t fucking put your hands on them unless there is consent. At a standstill, the twin took a step back to give the two breathing room. The only person that can actively do something in this moment was shrinking in his seat at the sheer power this girl exuded. Ethan took a deep breath in. He needed to change his method. Exhaling, he apologized, “...Sorry that was uncalled for. Please, can you give me a moment with my brother?” Ethan Green wanted to die.

Amy couldn’t help but to widen her smirk, her eyes flicking once towards Ethan before trailing back to her preferred prey. She didn’t even have to do anything and Ethan Green was saying please. To her. To the she-devil on campus. “I bet that took effort, Ethan. Asking a girl ‘please’. Don’t worry. I won’t tell.” Amy released her grip on Andy and placed her palm on his back, gently nudging him towards Ethan. “Go on, then. Take him. But we both know I’m all he’ll be thinking about. All. Day. Long.” Her words were spoken to Ethan, but they were whispered into Andy’s ear. A parting gift for Andy and a threat for Ethan.

It wasn’t until Amy stopped digging her fingers into Andy’s shoulder that he realized how much he liked it. He took a step forward when she pushed him forward but it was clear even from the way he moved that he was disappointed in the way things were ending up. There was not a lot he could say or do, all he could do was try and make sure that he didn’t forget the scent of her perfume. After he stopped being nudged forward, and was standing beside his brother, Andy spun around to look at Amy and blurted.

“You’re coming to our party, right?”

Ethan grumbled when Andy offered to invite the succubi. Even if he wanted to protest, this was actually a huge milestone for his older brother. Andy was inviting a girl to a party. He was going to have a date. He might get laid. It would be wrong for Ethan to ruin this when all he wanted was his brother to have confidence and for some reason, he was finding it in Amy. Begrudgingly, Ethan followed his brother’s lead, “Tomorrow, after the dance, we’ll have transport ready. It’s at our family’s vineyard. Theme, Risky Business.” He paused for a moment to look at his brother, hoping there was a sign of disgust, or fear, but all he saw in his eyes was how in lust Andy was already with this girl.

Fuck.

Teeth clenched, the King of the school added, “We… would love you to come… and if you like, you can…” He was going to regret this. He definitely was. But Andy was happy. Andy was making progress. Andy was… relaxed. “Ride with us.” At this moment, Ethan could only think about his mom and wondered if she had sound advice for this situation. He doubted it, but still. He wanted to talk to his mom.

An eyebrow raised as Amy listened to the Brothers Green, her perfect poker face unbreaking in the moment. How was it that Ethan came into the music room calling her a bitch and a tiger but now he was practically rolling out the red carpet for her? The way to Ethan was clearly through Andy - an unexpected but certainly welcome side effect. “I’ll be there.” Even if she hadn’t been directly invited, Amy had a wonderful habit of showing up even when she wasn’t invited. “We can talk about that…duet then, little Green.” Even if Andy was leaving with his brother, Amy was confident that her little fly was stuck deeper in the web. Fine. That was fine.

The best meals were the ones you savored.

Her hunt properly interrupted, but certainly not ruined, Amy offered a parting shrug of her shoulders and began the uncomfortably long walk back into the hallway. She didn’t look back at either Ethan or Andy as she walked past and opened the door. She knew that if she did, she would’ve seen Andy leering at her. Possibly Ethan as well. That thought alone helped her maintain that dangerous, ruby lipped smirk as she departed the room, the brothers free of her miasma for the immediate moment.

After he’d watched her leave the room, biting down on his bottom lip the entire time, Andy let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Hey, Ethan.” He asked, finally directly addressing his brother. Andy had no idea what he was doing; he didn’t know what Amy was going to be like, but for the first time in his life, Andrew Green had caught himself thinking with the wrong head. He figured it had something to do with the orange scents she wore. He ran a hand through his hair, and asked the question that had been burning in his mind ever since Ethan had joined the room, “do you have any weed?”

He paused, and then meekly added. “Why did she keep calling me ‘little?’ Doesn’t she know I’m taller than you are?”

Weed was a fantastic idea. Ethan needed weed too after that. “In my locker.” He turned his head toward his twin and furrowed his eyebrows. With a baffled expression, he asked, “You serious right now?” It was rhetorical. He knew Andy was being serious. His older twin was too naive. Too innocent. Too good. “You’re so fucked, bro. Come on, let’s go. Maybe we have enough time to smoke.” He looked at his watch; they didn’t. The bell would go off in five, four, three, two…

The second warning bell went off.

“I mean if you want to skip homeroom, I’m down.” Would his brother agree? Well, if he was into Amy, this could mean a new era for Andy Green. It was 50/50 right now but maybe Andy would live a little. Only time could tell. Unfortunately for Stella, Ethan had his phone on silent so he didn’t see his text from her.

“What? I’ve never done that before. What if Dad gets mad?” Andy asked, turning his head to look at Ethan. After a moment’s thought, he felt like he’d figured it out already. “Dad doesn’t care does he?” He shook his head, and reminded himself of Amy’s voice and the feeling of her breath on his neck and it breathed life to the embers of confidence he’d gained that morning.

“Screw it, let’s skip homeroom.”

Ethan smiled. Internally, his gut was telling him this, meaning Andy and Amy, would be nothing but a disaster, but right now, as they strode out the room and down the hall, none of that mattered. Andy was carrying himself differently and Ethan liked seeing his brother assertive for once, and certain of himself. Greens were all about taking risks and finally Andy was taking them.

“Hell to the yeah! Let’s smoke some weed bro!”

The Brothers Green would not make it to homeroom today.

BHHS: Limitless

god fucking dammit

Ellie Walters

_{Eun-ji Walters}

18 • Female • She plays bass. She loves fish. • She/They • Looking for their princess

(FC: Kim Min-jeong/Winter; Dialogue: 0BB2B4)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

Annoyingly, many at BHHS - especially the underclassmen - know of Ellie because they're fans of her mother and the groups under her mother's company. Her mother, Tae Su-Hwa, is a former Kpop Idol who was the center of P.R.D.; Su traded the microphone for a briefcase as she now owns one of the only female-run entertainment agencies in Korea. The myriad of Kpop fans in the western world have made it very clear that Ellie basically comes from royalty - something that annoys her to absolutely no end. It was the decision of Ellie's father, Nick Walters, that she attend school in America because at the time it seemed she would be able to avoid the frenzy that comes with her genetics. Now into the senior year, Ellie has carved out her own sort of niche when it comes to BHHS' social hierarchy. She's not at the top, but she's nowhere near the bottom. People know her as the girl that plays bass outside during lunch and as the girl who punched a sophomore who kept asking her if Ellie's mom could get a kpop group to play their sweet sixteen. The detention was worth it. Other than being a fan of punk music and skilled at fingering a bass, Ellie sort of keeps a low profile, she never seems to get excited nor does she ever seem to get overly angry. She's chill. And seemingly a little anti-social but only by reputation, not by deed.

► current dilemma

Ellie wants to pursue music in a professional capacity but doesn't want to rely on the connections that her parents have or be thought of as some kind of 'nepo hire'. To that end she's trying to find a band that shares her passion for actually making music and not just fucking around in a garage or a talent show performance. She's also looking for someone to go bowling with. In a romantic sense. As in a date. But who isn't looking for that? Her lack of extracirriculars and willingness to put all her eggs in a single basket means her post-high school education prospects are...grim and that's a conversation she can't keep putting off forever but damn if she won't try.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

She has three media accounts: Twitter, TikTok, and Discord. All of them have the same handle of '@PunkyBoostar' It's a referencee to an old tv show she hasn't ever seen.

► style

It is said that no one at BHHS has ever seen Ellie wear long pants and try as they might, no one can actually think of a time when they saw her in them. She certainly and probably has, but as far as anyone knows Ellie's default outfit consists of black combat boots, fishnets, and a skirt with a top to match. Her colors tend to skew towards darker colors, blacks and reds and blues being her favorite, but on ocassion she's rocked beige or grey. Bright colors aren't really her thing. At least not on her. She much prefers bright pastels, pinks and whites and yellows, on pretty girls. While her outfits might not win any awards in terms of high fashion or the like, what helps her standout is the various ways she wears her hair. She likes to keep it medium and scruffy, for that 'just had a dirty makeout session in an alley' look along with bangs that cling to her forehead, and she often keeps it in a tight topknot bun. She has dark brown hair but has dyed it different shades often not realizing that doing so makes her more like her mother than she would care to admit.

She has the four card suites on her fingers. She draws them on because she doesn't know if she wants to get a tattoo. On the one hand, a tatoo would really anger her mom. On the other...she kinda hates needles.

► ride & everyday items

Her vehicle of choice is a red Kia Stinger GT2. It has generous trunk space. For storing her instruments. Or just for sitting in and hanging out after school or at the end of a date. She often has her bass guitar with her, either on her person or in the car. She doesn't carry it to class.

► occupation

Unemployed.

► extracurricular activities

After school you can find her getting a slushie (blue is her favorite flavor) or going bowling. Failing that, she'll be playing her bass or listening to music with noise cancelling headphones. Just follow the groove.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

"My best friends are Amy Kwon and Hana Le, because birds of a feather or whatever, and I imagine they'd describe me in different ways. Weirdly I get along better with Hana especially now that she's stopped asking me to join dance team or the Kpop club or whatever. I don't know how people can listen to that shit, especially people who don't even speak Korean. It's like those weirdos who watch anime with subtitles and go around saying kawaii or whatever. What was the question? Oh, I don't know. Ask them. I hate being labeled."

In my free time I like to _______.

"Go bowling and drink slushies. I'm gonna get a 300 one day. My mom, in a rare moment of not completely sucking, got me my own bowling ball. It's eleven pounds and has a butterfly motif. When it rolls, it looks like the butterfly is flapping its wings. It's cool."

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

"How to be better at communicating."

This is how I define success and failure:

"Like it or not, my mom is successful and I don't mean her Kpop bullshit. I mean as a businesswoman. Success is looking people in the eye when they tell you "you can't" and then not flinching when you do it anyway. Failure is when you don't even try. In anything. Just try."

I'm inspired by _______.

"Don't tell her I said this but....my mom. When she's not being an annoying bitch about 'following the family business' she's kinda badass. I mean, she's pregnant and still handling business in two countries. I can't even handle singing and playing bass at the same time."

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

"Waiting Room by Fugazi. The first bassline I ever learned. You never forget your first."
"Welcome to Paradise by Green Day. Apparently this band used to not suck ass? I didn't believe it until I heard this album."
"Good Times by Chic. What? Funk is tight."
"Stayin' Alive by The BeeGees. Whenever this song comes on in the bowling alley all the old people start acting like they're my age again."
"Maxwell Murder by Rancid. I wish this song were longer."
"Spiderwebs by No Doubt. It all went downhill for this band after Hella Good."
"Model Village by IDLES."
"Queen of Hearts by Fucked Up."
"Swordfish by The Dead Milkmen"
"Rags and Bones by Nomeansno"
"California Uber Alles by Dead Kenendys. It's basically mandatory if you're a fan of the genre."
"Typical Girls by The Slits. I wish I could name a band after my lady parts. Well not really."
"Expect the Bayonet by Sheer Mag"
"Westermarck by Charly Bliss"

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

"Going to Korea and hanging out backstage while my mom and her group mates did a farewell live. I was pretty young, but one of the idols from P.R.D. tried to get me to drink a shot of what she said was water - it was soju - and got hit on the back of the head by the one with an insane ab game. I know their names but I refuse to acknowledge that there was ever a time when something related to Kpop made me happy."

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

"Your dad is kinda lame but he's a good dad. You should hug him more. I mean it's not like he's dead, but I've never been the most...affectionate person when it comes to showing my emotions or whatever."

The things that make me smile are _______.

"Blue flavored slushies. Getting a turkey in bowling. When a small crowd of people listen to me play at lunch or after school. Sometimes Hana. Sometimes Amy before her whole...whatever the hell she's doing. I told her it was stupid. She said it was punk rock. She always does that to me."

My whole life story in one sentence:

"A walking, talking sapphic cliche but cliches are popular for a reason."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

► extra information

Has a little brother. Like, 'barely out of diapers' little brother. Her parents are actively trying for another. Ellie's mom realizes she might be approaching menopause and if Ellie won't follow the footsteps into the industry then what choice does she have.
Her tongue is often blue because of her slushie love.