Aces Away

BHHS: Limitless

Timestamp: Immediately after the Pep Rally and school
Location: BHHS Parking lot
Samyan and Leila
@Aces Away and @Fabricant451

____________________________________________________________________

Samyan stared at the files on their phone, scrolling up and down repeatedly through the songs they’d created while thinking about the muse currently on her way to Yani’s very spot. They leaned back on the grill of their van to avoid pacing and wound up tapping the fingers of their free hand together instead. That traitorous hand was shoved into their jacket pocket in punishment and the smaller of the Fujimori siblings scanned the lot for Leila Webb, who had earlier agreed to Samyan’s offer of experiencing a song in their van after school. Which one should Yani show her? They had been inspired to create both entire songs and short tracks almost every time that they had the pleasure of encountering the soft girl, from first realization of her to last week after talking about her tik tok account, Melodic Moments, of which Yani was an enthusiastic supporter and follower. There were so many different tunes they could show her to set the tone for their question, but even as Yani stared at their phone screen they felt like there was really only one option. The first option. After all, aren’t you supposed to start at the beginning?

It was a wonderful song that kept the memory of that day alive and crisp within Samyan’s recollection. The slow indie build of walking oblivious through the hallway while talking to Kisho that crescendos until suddenly, as their shoulders collided while walking in opposite directions, the beat drops as Samyan’s heart did while apologizing and looking into wistful dark brown eyes that sung of untold stories and a soul scrabbling to be seen in a world that only believes what it hears. The yearning pull on violin strings puts a warm and smooth tone into an otherwise adventurous deep bass that takes up the foreground. It was a song that poured directly from their heart in a way they couldn’t contain, and perhaps to others it would sound messy, but Samyan was hoping that what they’ve learned and observed of Leila was true, and the dark haired beauty would be able to discern the meaning and feeling within the notes. Samyan was not subtle, but in the case of their flirting Leila was not perceptive, so the DJ and producer hoped that their shared love of music could help bridge the gap in notice just enough that Yani could finally step over it and ask the question they’ve wanted to since partway through junior year.

When Yani greeted her in homeroom, Leila initially thought it was just simple courtesy; that was, of course, before the question of free time was brought up and ever since the morning, Leila had found it increasingly difficult to focus on the school day. Her head was drowning in the ocean of hypotheticals and thoughts and the more she swam in that maelstrom the more the little voice in her head became clearer and clearer. Samyan Fujimori wants to talk to me. It wasn’t the talking part that had Leila wondering what about, why it couldn’t be done in the classroom or at lunch, she talked to people daily, often without even wanting to; no, it was the fact that Samyan Fujimori went out of their way to initiate further conversation. Leila had once spotted Yani doing what Leila assumed to be humming in the back of class one day, totally by accident. At the time, Leila was handing in a test she finished early and on the way back to her desk, there was Yani, in the back, moving in such a subtle way that most probably wouldn’t notice. But Leila did. Because Leila moved that way every day, to the unwritten notes of music singing in her head.

That hadn’t even been the first time Leila had seen Yani, just one of the times that Leila remembered vividly. The first time Leila learned who Yani was, other than ‘that person in class with the cool shaved part of their head’, she admired that confidence from afar. Never in her wildest thoughts did Leila ever think the admiration might be mutual. Throughout the day, Leila shook her head when that particular thought of mutual admiration breached the surface. She was assuming. Reading too much into an innocent invitation. This was probably some music club business, to get Leila to attend more often and of course she would…but Webb-Heads needed her…

And yet when the final bell rang, Leila walked with a briskness that she never did when she went from school to work. Was she smiling? Probably. Maybe. She couldn’t tell. Was that nervousness or excitement that made every step she took seem equal parts heavy and weightless? Yani had asked for five minutes and Leila would have given them fifty. In the parking lot, Leila spotted Yani leaning against their van and fuck, how could someone be so effortlessly cool while leaning? With a deep breath to keep navigating the turbulent waters of her mind in an effort to still them, Leila approached Yani and waved to get their attention, her own expression doing its best to remain collected even as the corners of her lips were twitching just enough for someone to know that internally she was giddy. ”Hey…hi!” The same words Yani had opened with this morning, only reversed.

Yani grinned excitedly when Leila appeared before them, taking in the girl's own happy twitch of her lips with great hope. She looked just as gorgeous as she had this morning, but the small smile that threatened to break across her honey almond skin had her shining, eyes glowing bright like light through fresh violin rosin. This girl was sunlight and song, rainbows and rhythm, vitality and verse. Yani could feel their heart in their throat just staring at the golden cast the sun sent over her earthen eyes, getting lost in the depth with hardly any will to escape. Leila was all those things and more, and Yani was hoping they could be the introduction to the ‘love’ part of the lyrics that Leila already has down herself.

They'd settle for just being allowed to keep being a part of her life after this.

“Leila! I am so excited you came,” Yani exclaimed once they'd managed to come up for air out of the intoxicating pools of warmth that were Leila Webb’s brown eyes. Their hand went out to touch the girl's elbow, ever the tactile being, but left the girl's hands free so she didn't feel like Samyan was suddenly grabbing her. Hitting the remote start on the key in their pocket, the violinist guided her to the side of the van where the door had been left open to reveal the setup within. It would have been much harder to get in through the back door, given the raised bed and storage area that had been built into the space for when Yani was traveling for shows. Above that bed, however, was the control system for the speakers and subwoofer that they'd had fitted throughout the vehicle. Yani spent many nights with their legs dangling off the side of the mattress, listening to their latest mix while fucking with the different settings to try and find out what was missing. It was their creative space, a piece of them that was only shared with those who have encouraged Yani's affinities and traveled with them for gigs, but they were opening it up to Leila in the hopes that the girl would soon become one of those people as well.

Yani was used to taking the first step before they'd even realized they lifted their foot, used to blazing trails before they even knew one was needed, it was Kisho that stopped and thought of consequences and attempted- though often in vain- to be the voice of calm and reason. Their brother was a man of calm and restraint but only as a cover for the impulsive hothead that used to tackle and beat bullies back when they still lived in Japan. As the one that will be inheriting the bulk of the company and who will become its face, that attitude couldn't slide, and their brother had gotten another type of tutor added to his weekly schedule just to reign in his temper. He'd had to learn to be calm and still like a secluded pond while Samyan had coursed through life like a raging river, unburdened by anything more than the knowledge that they would be helping their brother but not beholden to the business in the same way as he.

Now though, as they stepped up into the living space of their van and held their hand out to Leila to help give her a boost up and further into their life, they wondered if maybe slowing down to think about things was good even outside of business, despite how much their brother had despised his early lessons. Because going slow with Leila has led to this moment. Because slowing down right now gave them more time to admire the gifted sight in front of them as Leila looked up to catch their gaze once more, and Samyan would do anything to keep that picture forever in their mind, even calming the torrents of energy that made them them just so they could absorb the current moment with a higher level of awareness. If Samyan’s mind was a coursing river, Leila gave them enough peace and calm for it to settle into a babbling brook, and they found themselves in love with the new melodies they could find there.

“Please, come in, make yourself at home.” In my van, in my life, in my heart where you've already carved out a place for yourself without even knowing. Please, come in and stay.

In any other instance Leila would have been in awe of the van’s interior; the subwoofers alone looked as if they would produce a bass so heavy that it would rattle the bones and that was before getting into the other audio enhancing devices found throughout just the initial glimpse from outside. But Yani touched Leila’s elbow and that was all Leila could focus on. It was brief and it was probably just out of reflex - some people were touchers, but that brief interaction was like a lifesaver on the rough waters of Leila’s mind. It kept her from getting washed away in the addicting verbal demons of doubt and uncertainty, kept her afloat with the lingering thought that she wouldn’t have been invited here, to this audio playground of a van, if it was under some sinister pretense.

Without thinking, Leila took the offered hand and it was only after taking the first step to the interior that a crimson tint was forming on her cheeks as she realized her hand was having difficulty removing itself from Yani’s palm. Was that the first time Leila had held hands, even if it was for a radically different context than most people would assume? Yes. Did she want to do it again? Yes. Did she sheepishly look away from Yani’s eyes when their eyes met, thus adding to the blush? Yes. Would she do it over if she had the chance? Absolutely not. In her mind, this would be the kind of scenario a music video to a tween song would feature and that thought made Leila crack a smile; that the smile came immediately after a handhold was a wonderful turn of fate. “Whoa…this…is yours?” Leila slowly spun, eyes looking at the speakers, the subwoofers, the mattress; when Yani said to make herself at home…she didn’t know it was meant so literally. “You should invite me here more often. This…it’s amazing.” Her proclamation coincided with her returning her gaze and attention to Yani, with a smile in her eyes and a little open mouthed wonder.

”Should I…sit there?” She pointed to the mattress, unsure of what proper protocol was in a van like this. If she needed to, she’d sit on the floor and be happy to do it.

Invite you more often? I don't even want you to leave. Leila Webb truly had no idea the power she had over Samyan Fujimori, nor the world that that opened up for her. The Fujimori family was not one for trivial interests, they either found passions that they dominated the field in or they didn't call them passions at all. They were hardworking, dedicated, determined, and of a bloodline that built the foundation of their company itself with torn hands leaking life into the concrete long before it ever saw a pressed business suit or a walk in closet. A Fujimori knew what they wanted, and what was wanted was never worth simply taking. No, if you wanted something, you worked hard for it, and just like many things in their life so far, Yani was putting in the work in order to show Leila that she was worth it, not just expecting her to return the affection because of their Family name and status.

“Yes, ah, please!” Yani offered as they came out of their enamored haze, fingers twitching uselessly at their leg with nothing to hold now. Leila’s hand had been soft, gentle, and warm, sending the same blush that reached her cheeks thrumming all the way into Yani’s own as heat spread from their point of contact. They'd almost been knocked over when the other looked away and smiled, turning in a circle to take in all that she could of Yani’s life before settling again and asking her question. The producer hoped that they weren't too slack jawed by the time the girl had landed her eyes on them again. They pointed to the control box in the cabinet while grabbing their phone out with their other hand, finding the song with the knowledge that the Bluetooth was already connected.

“Best place to be for sound and editing, and super comfortable, man!” they closed the door of the van but quickly passed Leila before she could sit down and kneeled on the bed themselves in order to reach the two custom windows on the van’s back doors. Stretching across the mattress with one hand down for balance, they threw the lock levers at the bottom off and pushed the windows out until the rod’s joints engaged and held them up on their own, giving the two inside both airflow and privacy. They turned back to Leila with a grin while sitting on the foot of the bed, leaving the head to her so she was closest to the controls.

“Please,” They said a second time, tapping the mattress in invitation while unzipping and kicking off their boots in order to sit on crossed legs. “Change the settings however you wish. Loud, quiet, heavy on the bass, all is fine! This is all meant to be for you to experience, I can even play a sample of something just so you can get the settings to how you like.”

The last time anyone had done something that was meant for Leila was…well, never. Her parents opened Webb-Heads for them, it just happened that Leila took to the place well as an employee but other than that it often felt that life was taking away from Leila above anything else. She wondered how many people other than their brother were given entry into Yani’s sanctum of a van and Leila promptly shook her head to prevent that thought from getting its hooks into her brain. That didn’t matter. What mattered was that Yani invited her here and Leila was not going to take that for granted. The music lover never really got to hang out with people in a one on one instance like this; most of the time she was with her group of friends or co-workers or otherwise by herself, which wasn’t such a bad arrangement considering the first months after her hearing issues she was convinced she’d never have a regular social life again. Right now, Leila just hoped she wasn’t going to do anything wrong or, worse, embarrassing, but this was uncharted territory for Leila.

She’d never been alone with a person that she wanted to steal glances at before.

“It would be a shame not to try those woofers.” Leila looked at the control box, careful not to mindlessly adjust knobs and settings lest the music about to be played take her back to the dark place of her youth. “I think bass is the most important part of a song. It’s like…the foundation, the bridge that links melody and harmony and rhythm, and it’s also so…underappreciated, you know?” Leila had a buoyant curl to her smile as she spoke and slightly adjusted the knob marked with bass. “Sometimes I have to turn it up so it shakes the bones. But it’s a balance, too much and it overpowers the rest.Sorry.” Leila could’ve gone on. At work, she had a bad habit of going off on tangents about music, bands, artists, and it took someone like Dani Jones to speak up and cut her off. Yani probably already knew stuff like this, they had a killer sound set up in their van, the last thing they needed was for some audibly impaired music nerd to bore them. “I didn’t mean to ramble. Go ahead and play something, I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

As she sat on the mattress, Leila noticed Yani’s boots being removed and she had the briefest question. Was she supposed to take her shoes off too? “Do I need to..with the shoes? I will if you need me to or want me to. Whatever the rules are, this is your space, I wanna respect it”

“If you do not mind, yes, please remove them,” Yani answered warmly, thankful the other audiophile had asked. They were well enough used to the fact that people didn’t often think about their shoes coming off in other people’s spaces, and had simply decided not to say anything and switch out the sheets once they got home. They were on this mattress far too often to want to risk letting it get too dirty anyway, but it seemed Leila was even more conscientious than Yani had already known. Getting lost in Leila’s actions was quickly becoming a problem in the small space, because Yani couldn’t keep their eyes off of the girl and the way she restrained her own enthusiasm, as though it needed to be hidden instead of celebrated and praised. Who cared if Yani knew everything Leila was saying? They’d never heard it from her lips, and it was being listened to like a devout to gospel. “And please, do not apologize to me for your passion, I enjoy it.”

They looked down at their phone then, clicking play on the song and doing their best not to openly stare at Leila in hopes of seeing every little reaction. “I started this after we ran into each other in the halls,” they explained before anything truly began. “By the time I saw you next, I had completed this one, but another popped into my head from that meeting that I had to work on. And so on, and so on, but this was the first,” As the audio began to pour into the van around them, the vibration coming in slow and building, they stopped talking so that Leila could focus on their creation, but they let the girl see a moment of the nervous smile that only seemed to cross their face when thinking of the beauty before them.

Her passion. She’d never heard her love of music referred to as such before and she liked the way it sounded, especially from Yani’s lips. They just had a way of making things sound…wonderful, to put it lightly. Leila offered only a brief apologetic nod before her shoes joined the boots in being removed from her person just in time for the music to begin. The slow intro that sounded familiar in the best ways, like a comforting meal from your favorite restaurant, which had Leila smiling - it was like one of the songs she often danced her way into school with. Did they say this was because we ran into each other? Her mind reflecting on the words Yani said, dismissing them as a trick of the ear, but secretly wondering how true it was and how badly she wished it to be.

“The crescendo…the way it leads to the drop and bows in tandem with the violin…it’s super layered. There are artists with albums out there that don’t have this depth of sound.” Leila tried not to speak over the music. To do so would disrespect the artist, who was seated next to her, and the music itself. As the song went on, Leila allowed Yani into the world only Leila knew - the world that Leila entered when she listened to music tickling over every synapse of the brain. She began to move. First her head, then her shoulders, arms, torso; if she were standing she would have twirled, taken a step back, skipped forward, all in time with the beat and signatures. Her enjoyment was anything but subtle, the groove of her body, the way her lips were following along to the beat as if she were creating lyrics from the soundscape, the look of genuine amazement sparkling in her eyes. As the song reached its climax and headed towards the outro, Leila had a single thought. I bet Yani could describe the color red to me.

When the song ended and Leila fell back down to earth, she turned her head towards Yani and half smiled, half laughed at her the way someone did when words couldn’t describe the excitement of what they just felt. “That song felt…personal, in like a raw, passionate way. What…” Leila hesitated a moment as the high of the song was mellowing, this question could well turn the conversation down a road leading to an awkward collision…but she had to know. “What did you mean…that it was when we ran into each other? Do you mean…” Leila pointed to Yani and then to herself.

Yani was left staring like they’d tried not to the entire way through the song as Leila enchanted them with the way she moved and flowed to the music, experiencing the song in a way that sent pride and joy soaring through Yani’s nerves like an electric current. No matter how many times they thought it, the fact continued to remain: the celestial being of signals and songs before them was beautiful. When she’d settled and the song had ended, when she’d asked her question, Yani couldn’t help the emphatic nod that answered her almost immediately, leaning forward with their arms supporting them between their space. She’d felt it. She’d understood.

“Yes! I don’t know what it was exactly,” Yani began, hoping that this being a private space meant their father would forgive them for letting their speech relax. “I saw you that day and it put a song in my heart, every time we speak another’s added and I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve been flirting with you since last year though and you didn’t seem receptive, but with the dance tomorrow I didn’t want to miss my chance to-” Yani stopped themselves mid ramble, realizing that somewhere during their speech they’d put a hand on Leila’s knee and they retracted it with a shamed blush. They weren’t even trying to be forward, it was just in their nature to be in contact with someone as they spoke, be it a light tough to the arm or a grazing of knees or legs. It just made sense to be touching someone when you were engaged. They cleared their throat, looking away for only a moment before returning their gaze to the girl across from them. “Sorry, that wasn’t me trying to- anyway, I wanted to ask you and this seemed the best way,” Yani ran a hand through their hair and smiled at Leila, a bit of nerves showing through as they asked. “Would you like to go to the dance with me? And, if that works out well, perhaps be willing to be my girlfriend after?”

In the moment, Leila hadn’t even realized there was a brief encounter between hand and knee but even if she had been aware there would not have been any part of her that would have minded. Not when hearing that Yani wrote a song about her or that Leila inspired artistic thoughts. Leila’s mind tried to think back on the past year to conversations with Yani, brief or otherwise, of saying “hey” in the halls or trading laughter at little jokes or comments. Had she been oblivious to flirting? Or had she just assumed there was no way someone like Samyan Fujimori could be interested in any form of relationship with Leila other than a friendly one? For as much as she had a normal social life, part of her still believed that the little devices on and in her ears would be a barrier to entry in the dating world.

There had been times during the previous year where Leila had given a glance after exchanging pleasantries with Yani; she just never assumed the same could be true. That she could inspire glances, songs, flirting. Leila knew what she wanted to say but wondered how best to say it. She always preferred when people spoke to her face to face - much easier to read lips when words were too muted to detect but looking at Yani was suddenly difficult because their eyes were doing more than just being pretty, especially when they were smiling. How had Leila never noticed Yani’s eyes before? Or their eyebrows? In the belief that they were just effortlessly cool, only now did she realize they were just as vulnerable to nerves and awkwardness as everyone else. And that only made Leila think even more highly of them.

“I would…I would love to go to the dance with you.” That hadn’t even been on the list of possibilities in her mind. Her fingers found a small part of her jeans and gave the denim a tiny pinch. Internally, she was remembering the brief moment where the two of them held hands. It was minutes ago but that might as well have been another lifetime now. “And…” Leila wasn’t one to make the first move, but she wanted nothing more than to have Yani’s hand on her knee again; she’d settle for the mirrored smile the both of them no doubt had. “I’d really like to be your girlfriend even if it turns out we can’t dance at all.”

“Really?” Yani asked, an excited grin overtaking their features and causing their nose and eyes to scrunch up. “Fantastic!” Their hand, once done with an enthusiastic clap, fell once more to Leila’s leg but this time stayed there with the knowledge that the other was receptive to the affection. “I’ll pick you up and bring flowers, I promise, and we can listen to whatever you want to listen to on the way to the dance,” They reached out and gently pushed a strand of hair away from Leila’s face, not wanting anything to block those eyes or that smile now that they could take it all in unrestrained. Their hand fell to a rest at the girl's jaw and Samyan couldn’t help the small glance down at her lips, so inviting stretched out into her own smile. Maybe this was too much, maybe it was too forward because Leila literally just said yes but Samyan has been waiting for this moment for months. Biting their own lip, Samyan leaned forward a bit and asked, “I’m sorry if this is too much, but can I kiss you?”

She didn’t say it, but Leila would have been just as happy listening to nothing on the way to the dance simply because the excitement of both having a date and who said date was was more harmonious than even her favorite songs. The flowers were definitely nice, though; she was looking forward to those but even if all they had to offer was sitting on a bench and listening to something on a phone speaker in lieu of a dancing date, Leila would still be over the moon. Yani’s second question was answered with a nod, but Leila knew she could do better. “It’s not too much. It’s perfect.” The volume of Leila’s voice went low, just above a whisper, and her hand found Yani’s on her own leg, a silent reminder to the both of them that this wasn’t a shared dream no matter how it seemed like one coming true. Her jaw was quivering under Yani’s touch, an excited, nervous, heart-pumping-overtime quiver as Leila leaned forward, awaiting Yani to take the reins from there.

Not needing any more allowance, Yani surged forward and captured Leila’s lips in their own, gentle despite the excitement and passion boiling just beneath the surface. This didn’t need to be crazy, this was their hello kiss, this was for them to get to know each other past the level they were already at and Yani didn’t want Leila to only know them as passion, they wanted her to know them as gentle comfort as well. They brushed their thumb over her cheek and jaw while tilting their head just so in order to deepen the kiss the slightest bit before finally pulling away for breath, hand dropping to the girl’s shoulder. Euphoria swam across their senses as they realized that what they’d wanted all this time had finally come true, that their worries had been unfounded, and Yani licked their lips while staring at Leila with a heavy gaze.

“You, you are going to be so good for me and so bad for me at the same time,” They kissed her again, slower this time, savoring her lips as they savored her presence and soaking it all in. Their voice was equally low as Leila’s when they said, “I thought I had focus problems before, but now I really don’t think I’ll be able to stop thinking of you.”

One thing was abundantly clear for Leila when the kiss broke: she wanted to do that again. When their lips met each other in a sweet embrace, for Leila the van ceased to be grounded on Earth. There was a weightlessness she felt like gravity had been reduced and the only thing keeping her from floating off into the unknown was Yani’s lips. If it had been Leila’s first kiss, she hid it well even while letting Yani take the lead; Leila found her thumb tracing a pattern on the top of Yani’s leg-touching hand while her other hand found its stability and comfort on Yani’s leg, those fingers giving a gentle squeeze simply to keep from shaking back and forth while the electric jolt surged through her body. Her earlier notion of Yani’s touch keeping her from getting swept away felt so backwards now.

Leila wanted to drown in the ocean that was Samyan Fujimori.

“I’m sorry in advance to your friends, because I think I wanna spend a lot of time with you.”

“My friends will get over it,” Yani assured as they thought of their lunch table full of gremlins, a thrill coursing through them as Leila’s fingers flexed on their leg. Who knew starting slow could be so beneficial in the end. “They may be relieved, actually, as they’ve had to hear me speak of you often.”

”Then I guess they’ll be hearing you speak of me even more.” The thought made Leila give a bright little laugh; no doubt the stories told to each others’ friends would come now with the appearance of one another. “I know I’m here to listen to music…but I think I want to kiss you again.”

Though the laughter faded, Leila’s smile didn’t. She didn’t think it would for a while.

BHHS: Limitless

^{TIMESTAMP: Flashback, during homeroom, after the Morning Show
Following The Soft Approach
Location: First floor disabled bathroom
@Hey Im Jordan and @Aces Away}

___________________________________________________________________

___________________________________________________________________

“I feel like we should be getting back to class,” PJ spoke up as the blunt dwindled to the little paper filter, tossing the dead end into the trashcan after making sure it was cooled. She didn’t move off the radiators, however, and Decky didn’t move from his spot sat against the wall. In fact, the boy tilted his head up to stare at her with a raised brow, like she’d just suggested something ridiculous. “What?”

“Why would we go back? Belmonte already knows we’re here, Mornin’ Show’s probably a’ready over,” Decky listed, reaching into his pocket for the foil PJ had previously returned to him that had the other blunt. He pulled it out and tapped the open end against his palm until the second blunt found its way into his hand. “No one actually uses this bathroom as an actual bathroom, so it’s chill.”

“Jesus dude we literally just finished the last one,” PJ said in amazement. She’d seen the way that Decky and the other burners and gearheads rip through weed like they were chain smoking cigarettes- which, to be fair, she’s also seen them do right beside the blunts and joints- but usually there were more people in the rotation. Decky gave her that same look again, like what she was saying made no sense to him, and lit the new blunt between his lips without even deigning to give her a verbal response. She pulled a face right back at him. “No need to be snippy.”

“I literally ain’t said shit.”

“It was the tone of voice from your face.”

“How the fuck does a face give a tone’a voice, Jones?”

“Exactly the way you’re doing it right now, Boaz,” PJ responded, pointing to the deep scowl that had overtaken the boy’s face. “Your face speaks when you don’t, you’ve got no poker face.”

“And you’ve got no damn clue how wrong ya are,” Decky countered with a glare. “People here ain’t worth the energy needed ta keep my face in check.”

“Wow.”

“Shut up, ya know what I mean. I have a fantastic poker face when it’s important. It ain’t important here.”

“That extra explanation really helped,” She droned, face blank as Decky rolled his eyes heavenward. “No I mean it I love being told I’m not importan-” The door to the bathroom swung open and PJ’s head turned so fast towards the noise that she could swear her neck cracked.

“Chill Jones, fuck, who gives a shit,” Decky attempted to calm in his own way, unmoving from his spot on the floor. Truth was, Decky was wishing for anything stronger than weed right now. After the confrontation with Jamie while being completely morning sober, he’d realized that maybe Danny was right and he should have gone off with Sin and Monarch to smoke. But Danny was always more important and dropping him off to class has been the routine literally their entire lives. “When has a teacher ever stuck their heads in here?”

“Your priorities and thought processes seem incredibly skewed.”

“Really? Fuck,” Decky inhaled a large drag and held it for a long time before releasing it. “Thought I sounded pretty logical.”

It wasn’t like PJ was looking toward nothing when she snapped her head toward the door. The person who burst into the bathroom did so like he was in a television show. As the door swung closed behind the newcomer, a voice exploded into the conversation, interrupting whatever pleasant conversation Decky and PJ were having together.

“Owner of a lonely heart, owner of a lonely heart
sooooo much better than a
owner of a broken heart”

Nicky Snyder was once again gracing an unwilling audience with the sound of his singing. Offkey and offtime, Nicky was belting the lyrics along with the song that was playing in his earbuds. The singing abruptly stopped when he sniffed the air. His keen nostrils told him all he needed to know: someone was smoking weed in here. Someone he couldn’t see! It wasn’t his fault, the culprits were tucked in the back corner behind one of the stalls. Who even designed a bathroom like that.

He followed his nose like a cartoon character sniffing the most delicious pie in the world. With his earbuds still in, he couldn’t hear the voices, but he didn’t need to. Someone was here to do the exact same thing he’d come here to do. His high from earlier in the morning had started to fade away. He approached the final stall in the room and pushed the door open, expecting to find the source of what he was smelling in there.

When he didn’t, Nicky frowned and finally pulled his earbuds out. He didn’t turn them off, and the sounds of Yes’s Owner of Lonely heart could be faintly heard from the stall. Nicky’s ears perked up and he thought he heard a voice. He stepped on top of the closed toilet and then jumped up, throwing his arms over the wall of the stall and pulling himself up so he was peeking above it and staring down at PJ and Decky.

“Yo! What’s up, PJ? I was gonna come in here and do the same thing.” He grinned, clearly not aware of how ridiculous he may have looked hanging over the wall and staring down at the two others burning away the blunt. “Smokin’ in the boys room. Nice. Hey, Decky — is Decks cool? — let me get some.” He leaned a little more forward and pursed his lips expectantly with his eyes on the blunt.

“No, don’t call me that. And what am I, a fuckin’ dispensary handin’ out free sample- fuck, cut it out, Jones,” Decky cussed as PJ started flicking at his ear in reprimand. “What? Bring your own shit.” PJ stared at Decky, and Decky stared back, stubborn as ever. It was a battle of wills that both contestants knew PJ already had in the bag, but Decky didn’t survive this long by rolling over the second things got tough. PJ raised her eyebrow, daring him to keep the blunt to himself just because a third person had joined. Decky held fast.

“Share.”

“No.”

“Be nice and share, Decky,” PJ continued, eyes narrowing as the sitting boy’s scowl deepened. “People learned to share in kindergarten.”

“I learned how ta beat someone’s face in in kindergarten.”

“Okay, see? So much therapy. Several specialists. I’ll help you look into it.”

“Don’t change the subject. Ya want me ta share, ya gotta give me reason,” Decky shrugged, pulling slowly from the blunt.

“You’re being a real ho right now, Decky.”

“Just now?”

“Share the blunt and I’ll let you read one couplet from my journal,” PJ offered without much thought before freezing up and cursing the weed for loosening her tongue. She could already see Decky perking up from his slouch against the wall and eyeing her like cornered prey. “Wait I take tha-”

“Deal,” Decky held the blunt straight up into the air, leaving it up to Nicky to grab onto it while he held his other hand out expectantly to her. In response, Parker grabbed onto her bag and held it tightly to her chest. “Deal’s struck, Jones. Follow through.”

Nicky reached out with one of his hands and snatched the blunt from Decky’s extended hand. He let himself down from hanging on the wall, realizing it was going to be a lot harder to chill there and smoke at the same time than he had thought it would be. He stood on flat ground for a few seconds and puffed on the blunt, smoke rising from the stall as he did so. He took three hits — he knew that was one more than he was supposed to, but PJ and Decky were involved in whatever they were involved in, and they couldn’t see him back there.

He blew the smoke out of his lips, and opened the stall door, curving around to the radiator where PJ and Decky were. Coughing as he held the blunt out to PJ, Nicky spoke. “Here, dude. Trade me. We’re gonna read it aloud, right?” He wasn’t sure what a couplet was, if he was honest, but he knew enough about people to know that reading from a journal was always exciting! “This shit is hella good. Why the fuck are we smoking it in a bathroom? This is the kind of weed you should smoke like, on top of a mountain overlooking the city. You guys ever been behind the Hollywood sign? We should be up there smokin’ this shit.” With Nicholas Snyder, it was a 50/50. He was either right on the money, or… he was just really, really fucking high.

He looked at Decky with a side eye, “by the way, I didn’t think you were being a ho. Not everybody’s got infinity weed. I get it.”

“...Fine, he can stay,” Decky allowed, just to get under PJ’s skin a little bit while she glared at him. “What? Ain’t that what’chu wanted? Time ta share your work, Jones.”

“You said like fifteen minutes ago that you didn’t give a shit about my writing!” PJ defended uselessly as Decky finally stood up and began to advance on her position. She could hop off the radiator, but Nicky was to her side so unless she wanted to bowl the dude over for no reason, she was trapped in her makeshift seat, clutching the rough fabric of her bag like a lifeline. This is what she gets for being a good person and making Decky include others.

“Also said if ya cared about it then you’d be sharin’, or are we nitpickin’ prior conversation?” Decky asked, sniping the blunt from Nicky’s hand when it was clear PJ was more interested in protecting her journal. He held it in front of her face and held his hand out again, demanding, “Money where your mouth is, Parker.”

Oh, the first name. Decky was being serious. Parker pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed violently as she unzipped her bag and pulled the yellow journal out slowly, as if Decky would change his mind. “Fine, but let me find one I want to shar- hey!” Parker jumped off the radiator and after Decky as he swiped the journal out of her hands, only to come up short when he shoved the blunt into her protesting mouth like it were a pacifier to an unruly child. It was to get her to stop biting her lip, but it doubled for silencing her as well.

“That wasn’t part’a the deal,” He said simply while he carefully thumbed through the pages, keeping an eye on Parker to make sure she didn’t jump him when she saw an opening. “Oh, check this one out: ’Bind my fists before I break ya/ Bite my tongue until it bleeds/ Don’t run away, my trust forsaken/ Just stay grounded and plant the seeds.’ Jones this shit is good, what are ya so worried about?” Decky swung the journal out of the way as the girl jumped for it, staring her down condescendingly from his extra height. “Ya had’a of known that shit wasn’t gonna work.”

“That wasn’t even a couplet!”

“Should’a clarified that I knew what that was,” Decky said stubbornly, journal still in the air and eyes meeting the ceiling.

“I know you know what a couplet is!”

“Prove it,” He took the blunt from her flailing fingers and passed the book over her to Nicky, leaning onto her shoulder to keep her in place when she turned to Nicky with fire in her eyes. “Read somethin’ short and then tell her if it’s good or if she needs a new hobby, dude.”

“I will eviscerate you both.”

“Kinky.”

“Ew, what the fuck?”

Maybe Decky didn’t know what the word ‘eviscerate’ meant. Nicky chose to assume that as he was handed the journal and he peered down into it. He squinted and turned the journal in his hand. He looked up and eyed Parker idly, “you ever seen one of those movies where they go into the padded room, and like the person in the padded room has completely lost their mind, so they’re just like writing like random symbols on the walls?” He paused for only the shortest of moments before he continued, “anyway, the way you write in your journal reminds me of that.” He shrugged his shoulders, and then took his pointer finger, slowly dragging it over the pages as he mumbled to himself. “Too deep… don’t know that word… nope, too long to be a couplet… oh, here we go! Dude, right on.” He stopped, having found his bounty and he looked up with a wide grin.

“Bros, I found the perfect one.” He cleared his throat, and then recited:

Errant whispers in the crowd/ How can their quiet be so loud?/ Their lips move swiftly, brains less so/ Their eyes are shifty, yet so slow/ They do not see me 'til I wish/ When I leap from the shadows/ To beat a bitch.

“Dude! This is about Batman! Right, Park?! Is Park cool?”

Did he just compare me to a mental patient? Parker thought distantly as she considered the pages he must be on. There were plenty within her journal where she wrote at several angles and directions just because she felt like it, or because she liked the way the words collided and guided the different flows. She wrote in shapes and in spirals, up, down, and diagonal, as well as leaving random spaces and or dropping words down a line or two to emulate the way she saw the words in her head, or the cadence she wrote them with. Maybe it did look crazy to others, but that’s why it was in her journal that she didn’t share. When Nicky chose the poem that he did, her cheeks went beet red in embarrassment, especially when the boy drew the conclusion he did.

“Yes, yup. It is absolutely about Batman, Nicky, you got it. And sure, Park is fine, I guess,” Parker rushed, anything to move the topic along, shrugging herself violently out from under Decky’s arm and snatching her journal from Nicky’s grasp. She slammed it shut and hid it back away in her bag before glaring at the boys. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

“Batman? I can see it, but I’m pretty sure that poem’s ‘bout the writer,” Decky said, ignoring Parker’s threatening tone as he grinned at her. “You’re always in detention for fightin’ someone in the halls.”

“Shut up,” PJ protested as Decky held the blunt towards Nicky once more. “You could have just read them silently and told me they sucked, we didn’t have to have this whole scene.”

“Sucked? Snyder, did I ever say her shit was shit?”

“Aw, dude. Just call me Nicky, or ‘dude.’ Snyder is like, what you’d call an athlete and I don’t fuck with no sports.” Nicky explained, quick to correct the name and hopeful (not too hopeful, Decky seemed like he might not care) that it wouldn’t happen again. Then, he turned to Parker and shook his head. “It doesn’t suck, dude. Don’t be hard on yourself, you should post them somewhere. People would like them. I’m smart, I would know.” Nicky said, so matter-of-factly that it was either true or he was thoroughly convinced that it was. “You write well. Trust me, dude! Don’t be all blushy.” He beamed a huge smile that he hoped was encouraging, and then turned his attention to Decky. It was clear Parker didn’t want to talk too much about her writing, which meant it fell on Nicky to keep the conversation rolling.

“Let me get that back, yeah?” He asked Decky, reaching out for the blunt. Once he got it from his hands, Nicky puffed on it again. He blew out the smoke and then looked between the other two very seriously, “hey, you guys have siblings right? What’s that like? I’ve always wanted one, but I’m a solo bolo kid.” He explained, before lifting the blunt up to his lips to puff again, passing it off to Parker as he earnestly waited for their response.

Parker motioned for Decky to answer as she accepted the blunt from Nicky and took a harsh drag, not very happy with the way things went with her journal despite the compliments the boys had. She flipped him off when he rolled his eyes at her like she was being a child, irritated with him for the breach of trust but not angry enough to act on it. They had both been positive about it…in their own ways. Decky turned back to Nicky to answer the other boy’s question with a wary look on his face.

“I’ve been told I ain’t got the most conventional relationship with my brother so I might not be the best ta ask,” He answered with a shrug. Had it not been for Uncle Eiran taking the responsibility on when they moved out here, Decky likely would have had to find a way to get emancipated and become his brother’s legal guardian at an extremely young age. He likely would have been able to accomplish it had he stayed in Gravette, plenty of strings to be pulled thanks to the Trip-S, but as a nobody in California the outcome would have been far less favorable to the Boaz brothers. Instead, Eiran got custody of both of them while Decky’s crew back home made sure to convince his parents not to contest anything. Decky also barely knew Nicky, and while his story before moving here wasn’t much of a secret, that wasn’t because he was the one telling people. There were just too many rich kids in this school with free time and connections and they loved to dig through other people’s closets, looking for skeletons. Sometimes, if they couldn’t find any, they planted some of their own to pull out later. Decky knew Nicky wasn’t that type, of course, but that didn’t mean the paranoid teen was any closer to baring his heart to the other boy. “Jones.”

“No, fuck you,” Parker skipped over Decky, shoving the shrinking blunt into Nicky’s hold and crossing her arms. “You took more than I offered out of our deal, so now you need to give something up.”

Decky raised an eyebrow, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to roll his eyes. “That’s cute, Jones, but ya need leverage and I already read the poem.”

“I won’t kick you in the nuts with my steel toes when you kiss my sister for the first time,” PJ bargained, raising an eyebrow back.

“Ya mean ya won’t kick me in the nuts at all the first time I kiss your sister, or after that.”

“Woah, someone thinks they’re special. That’s still my sister, dude, you’re going to get kicked eventually over something,” The two fighters stared each other down like they were about to enter the ring, another battle of wills held taut between their gazes until Decky finally looked away, shattering the tableau. He glared at the far wall and rubbed irritatedly at the back of his neck before his hand drifted subconsciously to his covered arms, nails grazing up and down at the fabric near the crook of his elbow. PJ watched the motion like a hawk, well aware of gearhead’s drug of choice and the actions and tics that came from having not had a hit in a while. In a bid to distract him and keep things moving, PJ spoke up again. “Tell Nicky what it’s like being a sibling for you, then I’ll go.”

Decky’s scowl deepened, the last two scratches against his sleeve harsher due to his irritation before he managed to drop his arm back to his side. Looking at Nicky, then to Parker who nodded encouragingly, and back to Nicky, Decky began slowly.

“It’s…I mean bein’ an older siblin’ specifically… it’s bein’ a parent, a role model, a protector, a shield, a shelter. It’s bein’ anythin’ that ya need ta become ta make sure your baby siblin’ survives each day and maybe even develops a hope for the next one,” Decky glared over Nicky’s shoulder and crossed his arms, uncomfortable with the show of vulnerability. Being an older sibling in the type of situation the Boaz brothers grew up in put whole new meanings to their roles. Decky took beatings for Danny. Decky took worse than beatings for Danny so that the younger boy would have as little exposure to the horrors of their world as possible. Decky joined the Trip-S to ensure his and Danny’s continued lives after a particularly brutal afternoon under their parents’ rage and hate. Decky left Gravette, all he’s ever known, to go with Danny and the Donaghues to California to find his long lost uncles, all with the hopes of getting away from their abusive parents and giving Danny a chance at the best life the little genius could get. “It’s knowin’ you’d sacrifice anythin’ for your little siblin’ because ya don’t love anyone the way ya love those that’cha were born ta protect.”

Nicky frowned. He hadn’t been expecting it to be so much responsibility; in his head, he’d always imagined it pretty straight forward. He’d expected it to be like ‘oh it’s so cool, you have a best friend who’s like always there to play video games with you.’ Not that he didn’t already have that in Dylan, but it would have been different with a little brother, and he supposed that it was. “Sounds like a lot of work.” It was such a simple observation, but it was the first and most obvious one that Nicky made. It was obvious that Decky wore more weight than he looked like he did, even if he kind of talked like the delinquents in Nicky’s favorite cartoons. “But… It also does sound kinda cool! You gotta be doing a good job. I don’t even think I’ve met your little brother.” Nicky assumed that was intentional, as Decky didn’t seem to be the type of person who wanted to flaunt his younger sibling around. Nicky didn’t blame him, if he had a younger sibling, he wouldn’t want them around BHHS either.

“Well, let me know if he likes video games or something. I can probably show him a few things,” Nicky shrugged and left it at that. This was a sensitive situation — sensitive enough that Decky scratched at his arms, something Nicky clocked, even if he clocked it for the wrong reasons. There was something there, and Nicky was polite enough to not push as he turned his attention to Parker, “okay that was pretty clearly torturous for our buddy Big D here, so now it’s your turn! Tell me what it’s like, dude.”

“I've no pity,” Parker stated simply, which she's sure Decky appreciated by the lack of scowl sent her way, or maybe he was just too distracted by the Big D nickname. Once again though, he wasn't the type for any kind of pity, especially not immediately after the boy who usually kept it close to the vest shared something about his life. She could appreciate Nicky's obvious change of attention from Decky to her, though, as the other boy wanted to move things along while keeping the mood light, and that wasn't an easy thing to do if Grumpy got too in his head about things. “It's also different for me though, you know? ‘Cause first, it was just JJ and I and we're twins, so any responsibilities or roles were pretty evenly split between us,” she ticked her head to the side and looked up to the fluorescents as she thought on the rest of her answer. “I fought because she was too slow to anger, let too much happen thinking it was in good fun when I saw it for the bullshit bullying it was. When we took DJ in it only made sense that I do the same for her even if she could take care of herself. And let's be clear, JJ can take care of herself,” PJ gave Decky a pointed look, and the tall brunette scoffed and rolled his eyes at her, aware of the unsubtle warning and not worried about it, no plans to hurt PJ's twin anyway. “She just doesn't have to, because I'm here.”

“Noted,” Decky intoned, taking the blunt out of an unsuspecting Nicky’s fingers and finishing the last hit, licking the pad of his thumb and putting the cherry out on it now that it was all filter. He tossed the dead end in the trash before crossing his arms again. “That all?”

“No, I've got a lot of sisters,” PJ answered with no remorse. Nicky had asked, after all. “Anyway, when you're all the same age and basically just feral gremlins learning how to Human alongside each other, it's different. We had our fights, we had our screaming matches, we had our times where we didn't want to share and our mom had to step in and remind us to be good to each other. Because honestly, even when the whole world is against you, even if your parents are against you, your siblings are the constant. We were all born with one role in common, and that was to be there for the other siblings in your family. It makes me really sad when I see siblings that aren't close,” She spared a moment to think of all those strained sibling relationships that she could see in the halls when she brought her eyes up from the ground. She supposed they couldn't all be good, and no one's sibling relationships are perfect, but some are just downright sad. She's been lost in the shadows close enough to the Lyon siblings and Katie Callaghan to see the way Piper goes from sweet and playful to pissed and hauling off with a toxic tongue, every word from her lips laced with poison. PJ is never sure what triggers it, but Piper always looked a little scared from the angle PJ saw things at, and her Butler never did anything to try and scare PJ off despite him very obviously seeing her from her spot frozen a couple yards away. She shook her head, ridding herself of the visual her thoughts had brought up and bringing herself back to the conversation. “Then you throw Addie and our older sister Dallas in once our moms got together? It got crazy, still is crazy, but we're figuring it out. Dallas is like an oasis for me amidst the big energies and personalities of the other three, Addie and I hang out on the roof of the house a lot to smoke and chat, Dani is always stopping by Webb-Heads for one reason or the other, so I see her all the time, and JJ and I don't even need to say anything to each other to know what we want. Maybe it was because we didn't all grow up together the whole time, but to me it’s like having a built-in friend group that you wouldn’t get rid of even if you could. And of course, you don’t have to be blood to be siblings. Sometimes that bond with chosen family can be even stronger.”

Decky was nodding his head along with her words, thoughts drifting to those he called brother outside of little Danny, like Charlie back home and even AJ now, though the king of gearheads would never be privy to that. Hell, he saw Sin and Poppy like sisters, and since coming to Beverly Hills, Monarch had really made her way up there where she'd previously just been a Trip-S sister.

“And the pranks?” He asked, well aware of the curly haired girl's rants.

“The pranks, jesus!” Parker threw her hands up, eyes following as if asking the heavens for patience. When her eyes made their way back down to earth, she looked pleadingly at Nicky. “Dude, you literally cannot escape the pranks when you live with pranksters. I think all my sisters have a conspiracy going on where they let JJ's rodents out at night.

Now this was the kind of answer Nicky had expected when he’d asked the question. Pranks galore actually seemed kind of cool to him! His parents were great, and Nicky had close friends, but he’d always found himself wondering what it would be like to have an actual younger - or even older! - sibling who was there all the time. Both answers carried weight though, and Nicky beamed as PJ came to a close. As far as Nicky was concerned, the three of them had just become great friends; serious conversations in the bathroom over a blunt didn’t happen to anyone without forming a lifelong friendship.

“Dude, your sister has rodents? Far out, I’ve never had pets either. I wanted a cat once, but that fell through.” Nicky didn’t elaborate, because he didn’t think it mattered. One day, he was sure he’d have a pet, but right now he was simply too busy! “Pranks are cool too! Man, Big D made it sound like a whole ass job, but you make it sound kinda cool.” Nicky thought about what he said, seeing if he could work through it himself with his weed addled brain. Eventually, he settled on the idea that it was a more serious thing for Decky because he was so much older than his younger sibling, that it meant he had to do more than PJ, whose sisters mostly went to school with her.

“I gotta say, dudes, I’ve smoked a lot of weed in the bathroom but this has been a pretty excellent blunt rotation. We’ll have to see if we can beat it next time. Maybe we can add that psycho goth girl, my best buddy Dylan of course, the cute Green,” Nicky did not specify because to Nicky there was really only one option, “and the chick with the same haircut as me? I’ve been trying to hit my dream blunt rotation and I gotta say, you guys might just make the cut.” Nicky nodded to himself. Though this was something that wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else, it certainly mattered to him for whatever reason.

“I’ll bring the weed too! So don’t worry about it.” Nicky quickly added, knowing that if he didn’t, Decky would probably complain. They’d only been acquainted for a few minutes, but Nicky already knew the guy well enough to judge when he’d bitch and moan. Frequently, Nicky thought, especially if he had to provide all the weed.

“It is not far out,” PJ complained uselessly as Nicky continued on his tangent, swinging her legs from where she'd hopped back onto the radiator. She flipped Decky off when he smirked at her. Decky personally had no clue who Nicky was talking about- there were a few people that matched those descriptions- nor had he ever thought about a dream blunt rotation, but he'll, if the other boy was going to provide the weed this time then why not?

“If you're smokin’ out then fine, but I ain't helpin’ ya get this thing together, that's all on your shoulders,” Decky responded to the other wavy haired boy, not really caring as long as drugs were involved. The other guy was amusing, at the very least. Similar chatterbox tendencies as Rye but coming off more as excitable stoner than wry humored, insecure rambler. It was oddly refreshing, the almost sheltered level of honesty that Nicky spoke with. It made Decky wonder if there was a sharp tongue hidden beneath, leaving him curious and open to further interaction. He held his hand out to Nicky and simply demanded, “Phone, I'll put my number in and then ya gotta text me with your name or I'm not savin’ it.”

“What if I say I’m Night Hawk? You gonna put ‘Night Hawk’ as the contact? Start calling me Night Hawk?” Nicky asked as he reached inside of his pocket and pulled out his phone. He made brief eye contact with Decky and his mouth exploded into another huge grin. Was everything a joke to Nicky? Maybe, but at least it was a pretty funny one! He looked toward his phone and made his eyes wide as if he were a bug. It took a second, but there was eventually the tell-tale click of the phone unlocking. He tapped around and handed the phone over to Decky. “Yo, Park, I gotta get your number too. Gotta start the group chat.” He explained, shrugging his shoulders. He could have just hoped that Decky would set up the group chat, but honestly? Nicky wasn’t sure Decky knew how.

“We can call it ‘Dream Blunt Rotation.’ Once I’ve assembled the Dream rotation, I’ll probably just like… know, so I’ll tell the group when the time comes! Oh, dude. Maybe we could get Jack from the Elite? I like that dude. Oh man, I’m gonna have too many people… I’m gonna need a lot of weed, or like two circles.” Nicky frowned as he idly pondered, before he did what Nicky always did and got sidetracked. “Hey, can I meet the rodents? Do they have funny names? I like funny names, but sometimes it’s funny when a pet has a human name. Like, Clark.”

“Another one?” Decky whispered in despair at the mention of a group chat. Nicky was even correct in his assumption that the delinquent boy didn't even know how to set them up. Every group chat Decky had ever been added to has been against his own will, and it looks like that trend is about to continue. “And no, if ya don't send a real name I'm not fuckin’ savin’ it. I change the contact name when I decide the nickname for ya.”

“And you can talk to my sister about her kiddos,” PJ added in with a look of distaste on her face, handing Nicky her cellphone much in the way he'd handed his to Decky. “They aren't my cup of tea.”

“‘Til they're in your cup'a tea.”

“You shut up.”

Nicky typed away at PJ’s phone, then lifted it up and took a picture of himself with a smile so wide his eyes were closed. He added the contact photo and then held it back out to PJ. “I’m not as picky as Big D over here. You text me whatever you want me to put down as your name, dude. I’ll put it down. I’ll probably even start callin’ you it unless it’s dumb as hell,” Nicky had added himself to PJ’s phone as ‘El Diablo’ with little in the way of explanation or reasoning. When Decky handed his phone back to him, Nicky quickly texted him - just his name, as requested, but then Nicky had one final thing to request of the other boy. “Decks, I gotta get a picture for your contact bro.” He held up the phone. “You don’t seem like much of a smiler… can you smolder for me?”

“No.” Decky scowled immediately at the request. “Get bent.”

“Decky!”

“No.”

Nicky clicked the button, taking a picture of Decky’s scowling mug. “Good enough! Be seein’ ya, Decks.” He grinned, and then spun on his heel. He burst out of the door, belting another song alongside music only he could hear as he walked down the halls. “Lonely is the night, when you find yourself aloneeee!”

“Kid’s kinda weird.”

“Oh, you’ve got no place to talk.”

BHHS: Limitless

^{Timestamp: FLASHBACK, Immediately after the pep rally
Main: Decky
Sides: Danny, Sonny, small appearance by Lacey @LovelyComplex
TW: Small mentions of abuse}

Roaring down the road with his brother clinging to his back, Decky escaped from the school for the day but not from the events of it. His mind was swirling with thoughts of light eyes, curly hair, and curves hugged nicely by tight denim. Now, after actually attending the pep rally for just another glimpse at the girl who he finally realized his interest for, his mind was also on the rapid pace of her practice-roughened hands, and just what else those hands could do. Mostly, to him. Decky has been frustrated on different levels his entire life, but sexually was not often an issue for the gearhead. However, the more he thought about it the more Decky realized that he hadn’t hooked up with anyone since early summer, having stopped his own thing with Rye and pushed him and AJ together midway through, once he found out that the toxic twink had returned and latched his claws back into his boy after their breakup. That was his own choice, of course, and he’d honestly been more focused on the drugs and partying with AJ and the others to focus on finding someone for a night. He’d planned to get laid at the end of summer bash, but then there was the incident between Rye and Ronnell that really ruined the party mood and had them all going home early, AJ taking Rye home so the smaller boy had someone to cry himself to sleep with.

So, sex hadn’t been on his mind too much recently. Which, for someone who’s been active for as long as he’s been doing drugs, is a stunning realization to come to. It’s also a realization that had unlocked the floodgates, and now Decky couldn’t stop thinking about it. He knew one person who he really wanted to talk to about it, and ironically that person was also the last one he’d slept with, back when he visited him a few weeks into summer break. Apologizing mentally to his brother ahead of time, Decky called for his attention over their headset.

“Boychik,” He spoke up, feeling his brother come to from where he’d zoned out against Decky’s back. The smaller boy squeezed his middle in reply and Decky continued, now assured he had his attention. “Get my phone and put Sunshine on a video chat for me, will ya?”

“It’s dangerous ta do that while ridin’,” His little brother admonished while Decky scoffed in response. Still, he didn’t miss a beat as he slid Decky’s phone out of his front pocket and leaned back a bit in order to pull up the contact info of Sonny Cernis. When he found it, right at the top under favorites, he hit the videochat button and pressed himself against his brother’s back so he could remain stable as he stretched his arms past him as much as possible, trying to allow the older boy visual of the call screen. My Sunshine showed across the top of the screen and Sonny’s contact photo took up the rest as it rang in both their headsets, and he felt Decky look down at the picture he’d taken of the other boy when they’d met up this summer. “Please remember that I’m here this time.”

“Turn your volume down if ya ain’t wanna hear us, brat.”

“What?” Danny asked with an annoyed tinge to his voice, unaware of his brother’s goading smirk beneath his own helmet. “And listen ta nothin’ just ‘cause ya wanna talk sexy with Sunshine? Why do I gotta suffer either way?”

“Talk sexy?” Decky whispered in a strained tone, resisting the urge to turn around and stare Danny down. “Please don’t say shit like that, Boychik.”

“You’ve really got no idea just how much I’ve had to hear ya say that I wish I could bleach from my brai-” The static over the line changed as Sonny finally answered the call, his scowl already sliding off of his face as he took sight of his lover’s helmet.

“Callin’ durin’ a ride? Must be desperate,” Sonny teased the other dark haired boy before acknowledging the one that he knew was holding the phone steady for Decky. “Hey Lil’ Boa, how ya doin’?”

“I’m good, Sonny! Please remember I’m here!”

“Turn your volume down if ya ain’t wanna hear us-”

“Ya both suck!”

“I mean yeah, we do.”

“UGH.”

Little siblings never win, even when that big brother wasn’t blood. Especially not when it’s two-on-one.

“Anyways, Mob, what’s up? Ain’t like ya ta call mid-ride unless somethin’s on your mind, but if it was serious ya wouldn’t’a gotten on the bike before callin’ in the first place.”

Sonny knew Decky well. Hell, Sonny knew Decky best out of anyone, and has known him longer than anyone. Mordechai Oren Boaz and Sonny Orpheus Cernis officially met at age 5 on their first day of kindergarten, but they had been aware of each other for as long as they could remember. The first time they saw each other, they were two kids locked in their rooms in their separate houses, faces tear streaked and struck red. Both boys, as if pulled by some string of fate, made their way over to their windows and threw open their tattered curtains to stare morosely at the only view they had: The side of the house next door. Imagine their shock when an equally battered child was staring back at them.

It started with a few hesitant waves through their respective windows, ever fearful of their parents walking in and getting angry at the un-approved interaction. Slowly, it morphed into silly faces and window-fog drawings, then showing each other whatever meager possessions they had in their rooms through their sealed windows. Sonny had dragged his older sister Lacey to the window one day, and Mordechai’s world expanded once more. Mordechai once held Danny up to the window after he’d been born, and could literally see the moment the other boy opened a spot in his heart for the baby. Lacey had by all accounts been the Boaz brothers’ first ever authority figure. Before even Phil the mechanic, Rey Rey of the Trip S, and Mr. Beau had become solidified as providers in his worldview, Lacey Cernis had seen two broken boys that had gained the absolute attention of her otherwise mute and empty eyed brother and decided she would do what she could to raise them, too. It had been her intense coaxing and coaching that had Sonny ready to talk and introduce himself the day he and Mordechai finally met in person, and later the reason for such a foul mouth as he’d learned to speak from her, though she would never admit it.

Not a single actual word was spoken between the two for more than two years, but the day both doors slammed on their backs for school, the boys walked up to each other and grinned, bright and pure.

“‘M Sonny!”

“‘M Mordechai, Danny calls me Decky.”

“Danny your broth…er?” Sonny had asked excitedly, his grin widening when Decky nodded, and the boys began walking side by side while talking a mile a minute. By the time they’d gotten to the school, it was like their communication had always been verbal, and you would never know that they’d been unable to even touch before that day.

The first time someone pushed Sonny down on the asphalt that counted as their playground, Decky jumped at the kid so hard they both hit the ground, and Decky didn't stop punching until a teacher tore him away. In the office when the Administration was demanding answers, all Decky would say is, "He hurt my Sunshine."

When they were alone again, Sonny had started grinning like a lunatic, prompting Decky to ask, "What?"

"Your in…initials are M.O.B"

Decky blinks. "So?"

"Ya fight like a mob guy on tv, all f-fast ‘n’ rough," Sonny giggled, grabbing the other boy's bloody knuckles. "And ya called me Su-Sunshine. I'm gonna call ya Mob." The boy declares, clearly satisfied. Decky gave him a soft smile.

"Yeah, a’right."

Even when they began to hang out with the other Southie kids, including Decky’s eventual quartet, it was always Decky and Sunshine. They were like a single soul split into two bodies and they fought like vipers whenever you tried to separate them. In fact, Sonny had to be the final push that allowed Decky to sever his chains to Gravette and move south to find his uncles and a better life. If the ornery boy had instead chosen to be selfish and asked Decky to stay, Decky simply would have, no questions asked. However, if there was one thing Sonny always wanted more than Decky, it was for Decky to be safe and happy, and he was more than willing to suffer a bit for the sake of that chance.

So, it was no surprise that Sonny was aware of Decky’s turmoil without the other boy having said anything, right down to the level of urgency. That also meant that Decky was free to jump right in, as Sunshine had heard him talk about the topic on his mind multiple times.

"She's hot as fuck Sunshine! How ain't I realize that? And how ain't I notice she was interested first? It's so fuckin’ obvious now!"

“Pause,” Sonny demanded before Decky went off completely. “We talkin’ ‘bout JJ?”

“Yeah,” Decky responded, ignoring Danny’s interested hum crackling over their headset. His younger brother was obviously listening, which had him rolling his eyes. Kid couldn’t complain if he didn’t take the steps to protect his own ears. “Who the fuck else?”

“With you, ya whore? Don’t make me laugh,” Sonny laughed anyway, well aware of the face Decky was pulling behind his blackened visor at the remark. “Don’t be a lil’ bitch, continue.”

“She slid across my desk this mornin’ durin’ some chaos and somethin’ just fuckin’ clicked, Shine,” Decky did not whine like a child, but he was pretty damn close. “Like, everythin’ she’s said ta me since I found her in that music room Sophomore year, the way PJ’s so extra violent whenever I’m around JJ. I thought it was just ‘cause it was her sister but I’m thinkin’ it’s ‘cause she already knew-”

“Well, yeah. If I knew from here then there’s no doubt this girl’s twin sister was aware,” Sonny cut in, raising his eyebrow at Decky as the boy looked down quickly at the screen and then did a shocked double take as he registered the corner captain’s words. “What? Wasn’t my job ta tell ya what you’re feelin’.”

“Uh, yeah, it kinda was for this!” Decky bitched while Danny lost control of his calm and started laughing recklessly, making Decky tilt his head back in frustration and bonk the younger boy’s helmet with his own to make him stop. “What the fuck, Sunshine?”

“Mob, ya talked about her like…every other video call that we’ve had for I don’t even know how long.”

“She was my friend’s sister-”

“Don’t be an idiot, I know ya ain’t one,” Sonny admonished, making Decky go silent while he reigned him in. “Now back ta the point, that bein’ that ya now know that ya like the lil’ drummer girl.”

“Right, and me not knowin’ for so long-”

“You've always been like that when it mattered, Mob-"

"No! Not with you! We always knew-"

"That's different ya know it, jackass. Calm down, fuck," Sonny leaned back in the plastic lawnchair that he used at his desk, the flimsy back legs bending dangerously as all his weight went onto them. He pulled a blunt from the keyboard tray and lit it slowly, forcing Decky to sit in silence until he had chilled out a bit. Then, he made sure the gearhead was looking down at the phone when he gave him a salacious grin. "Or better yet, fuck her,” Danny made a disgusted noise of protest behind Decky and Sonny simply shrugged, taking another hit before clarifying- as if he needed to- his meaning. “In the good way, y'know? Like, actually fuck her, I think it would do ya both a world’a good."

“Sonnyyyyy, gross!” Danny voiced, knowing Sonny could hear him just as clearly as Decky. “Why d’ya gotta be so vulgar?”

“It’s part’a my charm,” He deadpanned back to the younger teen as he ashed his blunt, finally letting his chair fall back forward until all four legs were back on the ground. “We told ya ta turn your volume off, baby boy.”

“Fine! I will,” Danny pouted, pulling the phone to the side and flipping up his visor for a second just so Sonny could see the look on his face before flipping it back down again. He put one gloved finger up to the buttons on the side of his helmet, hovering over the minus button as his covered eyes looked at his brother figure through the screen. “Love ya, talk ta ya later.”

Sonny visibly melted at the words, a warm smile overtaking the teasing one on his face as he told the boy with genuine care, “Love ya too, kiddo, talk soon.” Once Danny had turned his volume down and returned the phone center to Decky’s front, Sonny took another hit and addressed his lover in crisis. “Seriously though, ya gonna try an’ get with her now? You’re not one ta avoid somethin’ or someone ya want.”

“This feels different, Sunshine,” Decky said seriously as he pulled off the freeway and took the turn towards Dom’s. They had a few more precious minutes to speak, and Decky needed to get this out. Sonny stared silently at him, blunt momentarily forgotten between his fingers. “I mean yeah, I’m definitely gonna, but there’s somethin’ about this. I don’t wanna fuck it up, and I’ve never cared ‘bout bein’ a fuck up before.”

“Rejections only matter if real feelin’ is involved, Mob,” Sonny spouted as if that wasn’t rather deep coming from someone like him. Despite being pixels on a screen right now angled towards a dark visored helmet, Sonny managed to make direct eye contact with Decky. “You’re scared ‘cause you’re seein’ more than a night with this girl, yeah? More than what ya had with Rye, or your hookups there, or any’a the others back here aside from me. Right?”

“…What’re ya sayin’, Sunshine?” Decky asked stiltedly, keeping his eyes on the road as if that would protect him from Sonny’s knowing gaze.

“Oh, ya need me ta be blunter than that? By all means,” Sonny grabbed his phone off of the desk and brought it close to his face, giving Decky the clearest view of his stop fucking around face that he’s had all ride. “All these thoughts flyin’ through your head, all these scenes you’re playin’ out, is the one that freaks ya out the most ‘cause you’re able ta imagine introducin’ me and her one day? Is it that you’re thinkin’ long term with her instead’a just whose bed y’all are gonna break?”

“...”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ thought so,” Sonny put his phone back down in its standing position before leaning back triumphantly with his arms crossed. He once again let the silence sit, forcing Decky to think about his words, to keep paying attention for his next ones. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his face was serious and his tone was even more so, though the words were laced with warmth. “You’ve got my permission, Decky.”

Decky almost swerved off the road in surprise, both at Sonny’s words and at his use of Decky instead of Mob. He was serious. The bike wobbled only a moment as Danny’s arms and legs tightened at his sides before he regained control and composure, doing his best to keep his eyes on the road and not stare down at his phone in disbelief.

Decky and Sonny never once had a defined label for what their relationship was, they were just always them, and that had always worked out just fine. Outside of each other, there was nothing romantic about any of the entanglements they had, and there had never been a conversation on what would happen if such things suddenly developed because much like everything else in the two boys’ lives, they simply already knew each other too well. Sonny had scared off plenty of perspectives before that Decky simply hadn’t been interested in back, but this was different. If Sonny had shut Decky down right there, if he’d been selfish and told the boy that he wouldn’t accept the girl that had his eye, then Decky would have proceeded to wear shin-guards the next day and let JJ down as gently as he knew how, well aware that PJ would kill him if he tried to one night stand her twin. Sonny and Decky would always be a package deal, no matter the distance that life puts between them.

Yet Sonny was once again showing his selfless side when it came to Decky, a stunning difference from his typical aggressive and possessive nature with the other boy, and it left Decky with an incredibly simple question for him.

“Why?” He asked Sonny, glancing down to see a raised eyebrow from his lover. There were a lot of things that he meant by that, and Sonny understood them all. Why do I suddenly like someone like this? Why is she like you, the way I feel about her? Why are you accepting my wanting her without meeting her? Instead, since the other boy already understood the unspoken words, Decky asked another question. “What makes her different?”

“I don’t have your answers for that, Mob, only mine,” Sonny spoke softly now that he could see Decky’s receptiveness, no longer needing to bulldoze through his thick skull. “For me? I like the way ya light up when ya talk about her,” He shrugged, looking away from the camera as if it could hide his blush from the other side of his coin. Sonny didn’t do sappy often, and when he did he couldn’t get away without heat rising to his face in embarrassment. Let him say some of the most raunchy and nasty things with a straight face and not so much as a twitch of an eye, but sincerity was a weakness, a vulnerability, and it wasn’t something he showed often. “S’nice, y’know? Ta see someone else put that look on your face, means I get ta stare at it more often.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fallin’ for her on my word alone, Bashful,” Decky teased, unintentionally mimicking JJ’s name for him from this morning as he regained his footing in the conversation, now that Sonny was slacking his tight grip on the reigns. He cleared his throat of any lingering emotion that was constricting it at Sonny’s admission. He hadn’t realized he made such obvious faces, but he loved the way Sonny knew him in ways he himself couldn’t.

“You’ve shown me a picture before,” Sonny combatted, his crossed arms tensing defiantly and cheeks still red. “And no, I’m not, shut the fuck up. I’m just tellin’ ya that it’s okay. I like what I’ve heard, and what I’ve seen ain’t bad either, honestly. ‘Sides, it’s not like me and her have ta have anythin’ goin’ on between us just ‘cause y’all got somethin’. We just gotta meet properly and shit so there ain’t no confusion.”

“We’re gettin’ ahead’a ourselves, I ain’t even hit on her yet let alone asked her out and gotten a yes,” Decky brought up just as he pulled into the parking lot of the garage. Danny hopped off the back once Decky put down the kickstand, handing Decky the phone and leaving his helmet on the back of the bike before running away without another word. He stuck his tongue out at Decky from the door before disappearing inside when he saw his big brother was watching him to make sure he got in safely. With the privacy of his helmet still containing their conversation, the older boy continued. “She could hate me when I start flirtin’.”

“Mob, I’ve listened ta ya talk about this girl for so long that if ya don’t manage ta pull her then I’m gonna come down there myself, grip ya by your blue balls, and yell in your face about just how pathetic you’re bein’.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Next video call better come with an actual story and not just pinin’ and self-doubt,” Sonny proceeded while ignoring Decky’s response with practiced ease. He wasn’t kidding about that demand either, he would absolutely hang up in Decky’s face if the ex-gang member called him blubbering about the girl he couldn’t even bother trying to ask out first. This was different, this was the Conversation phone call. Now, it was time for action. “Seriously dude, go ta work and think about it, but don’t overthink it like you’re doin’ now.”

“Helpful.”

“I live ta please,” He drawled as he finally hit his blunt again, dragging slowly to reignite the dead parts of the cherry and looking Decky in the eyes now that the other boy had flipped up his visor. “Just be you, asshole, ain’t no one worth bein’ with if they don’t wanna be with that.”

“Thanks, Sunshine,” Decky responded sincerely as he heard the distant noise of a door slamming from Sonny’s side of the audio, failing to suppress his amused smile as the grumpy boy’s scowl came back full force now that his older sister was also in the apartment. “I gotta get ta work, tell Lace I said hi.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sonny rolled his eyes, leaning back in the flimsy chair and yelling, “Lace! Mob says you’re still a bitch!”

“No I didn’t!” Decky yelled in protest, hoping it would reach the girl over her brother’s shitty phone speaker. “No the fuck I didn’t!” He glared at a smirking Sunshine before hissing, “Don’t take me down with ya, asshole.”

Sonny’s head tilted as he listened to Lacey’s response, Decky barely able to hear more than her annoyed tone over the phone. When his lover rolled his eyes at whatever she said, Decky setted back down onto his bike seat, knowing that it would be a moment before he was brought back into the conversation and hoping it didn’t make him late to work. He couldn’t just hang up in case Lacey wanted to talk directly to him, she’d be so upset.

“Dishes ain’t done ‘cause I ain’t fuckin’ do ‘em yet, whaddya mean?...No I said I was fuckin’ gettin’ ta them, don’t do that bullshit where ya put ‘em away all angrily, I fuckin’ got it, bitch, stop!...I’ll do ‘em when I feel like it! I just got home when Mob called…” The look on Sonny’s face told Decky that Sonny’s older sister was making her way from the kitchen in their little one bedroom apartment to the living room where Sonny resided, and Decky finally saw her form appear right behind Sonny, who turned to once again cuss her out after he snubbed out his blunt. “Did I say ya could be a fuckin’ part’a this convo, the fuc- LACE!” Lacey shoved Sonny out of his seat with a hand to his face and Decky let the laugh he’d been holding in fly free, doubling over his bike at the irate look on his lover’s face while his older sister simply took the phone and leveled it to her own.

“Go do the FUCKIN’ DISHES,” Lacey yelled at her now hovering little brother, who slunk off towards the kitchen with grumbled curses and a middle finger held high to his sister. When she was sure he’d started his chore, she turned back to the screen, to Decky, and smiled. “Heyo babe. I hope you found a better fuck out there in that ritzy city of yours! Maybe find yourself a nepo girl and knock her up. I wouldn’t mind a big ass pool where I can just sunbathe all day, drink pina coladas and get caught in the rain. No care in the world. Just Lacey and the sun. Matter of fact… HEY BITCH.” She calls out to Sonny again, who looks back from his place at the kitchen sink on the other end of the apartment. “You move there and go find a catch to share. Let’s go fishin’. I’d like to retire ONE DAY.”

While Decky couldn’t hear Sonny’s reply, he could absolutely hear his ire and read the rude gestures he could see the other boy tossing at his sister in the background.

“Y’all know you’re always welcome down here for a visit,” Decky offered, trying not to get too hopeful at Lacey’s words that were likely meant strictly to barb at Sonny more than any actual plan to come down to Beverly Hills. He knew she was just teasing them both and keeping it lighthearted in her own way. But he thought about all the paperwork in his uncle Hirsch’s filing cabinet, the slightly older boy having done all the organization needed for Decky to easily present his income and stability to the bank for a loan. He’d also said he padded it for extra insurance, but Decky wasn’t quite sure what exactly that entailed. Regardless, Decky was on the fast track for having his own home for he and his brother before he even graduated this year. One perk of already being of legal age while still in school. “Hell, I’m tryin’a get that house soon, and y’all know there’ll always be room for ya.”

Decky checked the time on his phone and sighed. “Sorry Lace, I gotta get ta work. I’ll try and call ya soon, okay?”

When they’d said their goodbyes, Decky finally swung off of his bike and shoved his phone into his pocket as he hustled to the door his brother had entered earlier. He almost bowled Hirsch over on the way in, stopping just short of the intelligence gatherer as the older man stood in his way. He raised an eyebrow at his uncle in question and Hirsch nodded silently to the office, making his way in and closing the door quietly when Decky followed. The younger shifted anxiously for only a moment before the other events of his morning filtered in and his shoulders slumped forward, exhausted before he even asked. His uncle always updated him on exactly how much he knew the younger could handle at the time.

“AJ?”

“AJ.”

“Fine, but I’m punchin’ in first.”

BHHS: Limitless

^{Timestamp: Immediately following the end of the Morning Show
Location: Homeroom 203, Mrs. D’Amiano
Introducing: Samyan and Kisho Fujimori}

_____________________________________________________________________



_____________________________________________________________________

“Always so wild, man,” Samyan observed with a wide smile as the Morning Show cut off, their friend's face disappearing from view. They were sitting in Mrs. D'Amiano's class right next to their brother, who had his headphones on and his face down in his sketchbook, totally oblivious to the spectacle that was Beverly Hills High's Morning Show. Sensing his siblings eyes on him despite hearing nothing over the building beat in his headphones, Kisho glanced to the side to see Yani grinning at him. He slid his headphones off and sat back from the slouch that would have his father hiring etiquette tutors for him again, tilting his head in question. Yani humored his belated interest just as they always did. “Rye and Dani made Sully think too hard too fast, man, and the whole show was just like a tennis match; bam, bam, bam, back and forth with the lines,” they described emphatically, hands snapping back and forth at each other to indicate the rapid pace of the televised conversation. “Sully looked like his brain hurt by the end.”

“Concerning,” Kisho replied simply, no change in his expression during his sibling's playback to support his words. He put his pencil down and closed his sketchbook to give Yani his full attention. “Was he upset?”

Sully was a recent pet project of Ethan's, which meant that just like most of the people the other rich boy's interest latched on to, the rising streamer of low income status was on the fast track to becoming one of the Elite. Kisho now had to pay attention to him.

“Ah, mentioned something about being an indentured servant,” Yani replied with a headshake and an animated shrug. “Maybe upset? Maybe just realized and was trying to process. The other two did not really give him a chance. He should be fine, bro.”

“Okay,” Kisho accepted with far less fanfare than his sibling. If it was nothing to bring up to Ethan then it was nothing for Kisho to spend any more thought on. The internet star was Ethan's project and prospective friend, and the japanese boy was more than willing to wait until Sully actually began integrating with the crew before he spent any extra thought or energy on him.

He looked around at his classmates fully for the first time since each one’s arrival after he and Yani had settled down, both early risers that didn't mind chilling in the class long before the first bell rang. Unlike Belmonte's homeroom, which unknown to the others was missing almost half of its students, D'Amiano's was almost completely full. Helen Wells, one of two Tantalizers of room 203, was absent, as was Niles Sinclair, though the other boy spent many mornings in the library so this was no surprise. Helen's brother, Troy, was in his seat soon after the Fujimori's had taken theirs. Alvaro had been seated before the Morning Show started, having done his round of greetings to those that the royal remnant still deemed worth his time in their final year of BHHS, which included Kisho strictly for appearances sake.

Leila Webb was absorbed in her phone screen before she'd crossed the threshold- which also had the girl oblivious to the way Yani had caught sight of her as soon as she'd graced the room with her presence. Kisho admired his siblings’ dedication to this crush, because so far any interaction he's seen has had Leila responding positively but not with that level of interest that showed she understood she was being flirted with and praised. He wondered if the girl would respond back in kind once the flip finally switched in her mind, or if he'd be the beta listener for some seriously sad bops while his sibling worked through their disappointment. Ellie Walter's was sitting next to her friend, slushie blue tongue and lips showing as she mouthed along to the words in her headphones, waiting for Mrs. D'Amiano to officially start class for the day.

Oz made his way in with minutes to spare. Then, the Triple Crowns had made their attention grabbing entrance, connected by Athena following immediately after the first two Helmsleys, moments before the bell, and the sibling duo of Toury Phoenix and Dash Day had thrown themselves across the threshold as the final ringing was dying out, maintaining their surprising joint record of perfect homeroom attendance. The Tantalizer had almost fallen over her smaller brother in their efforts, but they both caught each other at the last moment and shoved the other towards their seats right as the Morning Show had burst to life on screen. Kisho supposed that when your parents worked in the same building, even the most rambunctious kids will retain a certain level of respect, if not decorum.

“Kisho I’ve been talking to you,” Samyan broke through his thoughts when they switched over to Japanese. “Where’d you go?”

“I wasn’t listening,” He replied, words more relaxed as he too spoke in his first language. “Sorry.”

Hiro Fujimori, their father, paid good money for the twins’ English lessons from a very young age, and preferred they speak it ‘properly’ whilst in public, including school, especially to maintain good business conversation and etiquette. This, of course, did not extend to their step-sister Wakiya who had no care for the business and had grown up in America on the Blue Hill reservation, halfway between Beverly Hills and some of their classmates’ hometown of Gravette, Oregon. She took great joy in teaching her new siblings all the slang and curse words she knew, so it wasn't like they were unable to switch up the way they spoke. Yani had picked up on and liked to add words like ‘man’ and ‘bro’ into their sentences like most people say ‘um’ or ‘like’, unwilling to stifle the personality of their speech completely. Kisho used more formal English than Yani did but both avoided contractions and anything that their father believed could make their speech come off as lazy, uneducated, or unprofessional- Kisho would like to insert an eyeroll here. It didn't matter that none of their classmates, some children of their father's business partners, were not held to the same standard. Hiro was a surprisingly understanding father in many areas, but he did still have his expectations and biases that he enforced on his heirs.

He understood his father's worries, of course. Both Kisho and Samyan have retained light accents- despite almost nine years spent stateside- and when Hiro and his father before him had been expanding their business and networking internationally, they had faced many biases and setbacks due to ignorance. Faced down many downright racist and xenophobic people and continued to push through until they’re family name was practically associated with oil. Personally, Kisho felt that his father’s ‘standards’ simply made him seem ignorant and biased as well, just like those he purported this standard would protect his children from. Contrary to his father, Kisho believed being able to adapt to the different ways the people around you speak was a sign of intelligence and skill in and of itself, but he and Samyan still understood where Hiro was coming from, and thus respected his wishes.

All bets were off when they spoke in Japanese, though, they'd struck that deal with their father before they ever set foot in their new home. They had to breathe some time, and their father could be worse than they were sometimes in their native tongue.

Speaking of Yani, they let out an affronted noise before slouching over their desk like a flower getting stomped on. “My brother doesn't even love me enough to listen! I make him music, I drive him to school!”

“I drove to school today, you dork.”

“Not the point!” Yani switched back to English now that Kisho was once more engaged. “But I will still cede it, bro.”

“Concede.”

“That difference hardly matters, man, they are practically the same word!”

“We can bring that up in debate at the next club meeting,” Kisho countered, looking away from his sibling with little care to the affronted stare they were leveling him with.

The Fujimori's loved Foreign Languages club, and many of the students there got to see a more open side of Kisho than the stone faced, soft toned friend-wrangler that was observed with the Elite, or the focused, agile predator on the ice and field who strikes so hard and fast you worry the net of the goal may snap. It was a safe haven for foreign students, no matter how long ago they moved, and for students like PJ Jones who were learning for their future profession, it allowed them to immerse themselves in conversational forms of whichever language they were conversing in at the time. The future ESL teacher - which Kisho honestly found a waste of her talents but was held back on saying by Yani's hand over his mouth- and twin of Yani's friend JJ, could hold entire conversations with them, only stumbling when they threw in slang or used certain words colloquially. Kisho was of the opinion that she should become an interpreter, be it for businessmen or entertainers, and Yani silently hoped the girl would expand her idea for her future in her own ways, but was unwilling to call PJ'S easily achieved goals a waste. Plus, her being in ASL club as well as working at Webb Heads meant Yani could barrage her with questions about Leila in several different languages and pass it off as helping hone the black girl’s skills.

PJ, while never actually fooled by the Raver's ruse, was willing to answer to a certain extent. While the girl had a habit of keeping her head in her writing journal as much as Yani’s brother kept his in his sketchbook, she truly did absorb more knowledge about the people she surrounded herself with than even she herself believed. Yani wasn’t ashamed about taking advantage of that for their own gain.

“Are you going to ask her?” Kisho asked his sibling as he propped his head up on his hand while leaning on his desk, having followed his sibling’s wandering eyes. Yani groaned, taking their eyes off of Leila once more and sending their eyes to the heavens.

“Guh!” They scoffed, pouting at their brother while he rolled his eyes once more at the dramatics Samyan employed in their every action. “Not so easy, man. She does not even get the flirting, how do I just walk up and say, ‘you want to go with me to the dance? I know it is last minute, man, but I have been trying to lead up to it since the first day of school’?”

“Eh…exactly like that?” Kisho replied in confusion, never knowing his sibling to be unsure of what to say around someone and unsure of how to comfort such behavior. “Preferably without saying ‘man’ right in the middle.”

“Do not tease me, this is serious,” Yani said, looking forlornly at the girl Yani has an album’s worth of deep, soft beats that they made while thinking about her. Only Kisho has ever heard those ones. “I am not just wanting Leila for one night, I want her for my world.”

Their brother sighed and rubbed at his eyes, unprepared to deal with Yani’s pining this early in the morning. Being a part of their world as a whole was not simple or easy, and it was a loud and bright place. He was the quietest and most reserved out of the five people in their household, but that was because his personality came out when he had a stick in his hand or a ball under his foot. Kisho was self contained and generally unsociable, and only really had the one big insecurity about himself. His sibling was not typically the insecure or hesitant type. One of the first thing’s they had done when Hiro brought Yani home from Miri and said they would be raised alongside Kisho was stumble right over to their fellow two year old and topple him in a hug. They ran up to people their whole lives with the beats to a song on their mind and just vocalized and beatboxed random parts to the person before asking if that sounded sick or not. Yani did a fucking backflip off a cliff on their last family vacation only to pop out of the water with a grin and declare, ‘I didn’t even know I could do that, just felt like trying!’ Yani never hesitated unless it came to business, and that was just because that was when it was their job to take things seriously and consider every angle.

Yani was hesitating with Leila Webb.

“Is that not what you are supposed to say to someone when you feel that way?”

“Yeah?”

“...Yes? You really should not be asking me this, I have not dated.”

“That is by choice and lack of action on your part, Sho,” Yani countered. “You have had people ask you out and told them no, and you have never wanted to ask someone yourself,” Their brows furrowed as they looked at the back of Leila’s head with their chin resting in their palm. “For once, I am concerned about being told no. This means too much.”

How? Kisho wanted to ask. How do you feel that much, know that much already? It wasn’t a lack of faith in Yani’s knowledge of their own feelings and desires, it was genuinely a disconnect of mentality between the two siblings. Yani was very aware of everything, felt everything, and expressed everything with reckless abandon. Kisho was paying attention but almost never truly listening, was reserved in his actions and attitude outside of his sports teams, and spent more time begrudgingly following the insane plans of his friends in the Elite than presenting any of his own. Yani loved openly and was one hundred percent their authentic self in both public and private. Kisho couldn’t afford the same luxury.

“Samyan, you have not been wrong before,” Kisho finally landed on, realizing how much his sibling was actually looking for his support and validation right now. “She seems happy when you talk to her, you are happy when you talk to her. Show her your songs or something, perhaps offer to show it to her in your car after school.”

Yani’s eyes lit up at the idea and they leaned across the aisle to excitedly punch their brother on the arm while he pulled a face at the spectacle they were making. “With my good speakers, yes! That was a good idea, man, I thought you just said you were not the one to ask!”

“Please calm down,” Kisho mumbled, sliding further down in his seat as people started looking their way. Homeroom was one of the few places where he was allowed to be invisible. “Or get away from me and go bring it up to her now.”

“Okay!”

“Wait-”

Samyan was gone, already out of their chair and sliding into the empty one in front of Leila and making sure they got the girl’s attention before opening their mouth to speak. Kisho watched his sibling’s return to following their impulses with raised eyebrows before he decided to give them a bit of privacy. Putting his headphones back on and reopening his sketchbook, Kisho picked up his pencil once more and let himself disappear from the real world as he focused on drawing his own. The buzzing in his pocket was probably the Elite chat, he could check that once he'd finished his shading.

“Hi, hey!” Yani greeted once Leila had given them her attention. “Do you have maybe five free minutes after school? I have a song I have been working on that I would like to show you, and something else to talk about! Are you interested?”

BHHS: Limitless

_{FT: Gavriel Shomer @Aces Away
Jordyn Jones, Niles Sinclair, & Helen Wells @LovelyComplex}

____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________

Rye all but bowled JJ over with the speed that he flung himself out of the media center and into the hall, throwing himself on her with a dramatic sigh and giving himself three seconds of hiding his face in her shoulder before he had to face the world outside the set lights. He was always careful when doing this never to squish their bodies together, to keep his hug up around her shoulders, ever aware of his best friend’s rotation of rodents and their snuggle spots in her bag and hoodie pockets. His best friend basically carried around emotional support in the form of fuzzy little friends that were absolutely not actually allowed to be there, but Rye loved it.

He loved it even more when they got loose and caused chaos, but he’s been told he can be a bit of a dick with what he finds funny sometimes. To each their own.

Pulling away, Rye looked at JJ and tilted his head, questioning, “That’s a pretty serious thinking face you’ve got going on, Jay, am I in trouble for something? Also who do you got on you today, is it one of the ones that likes me and wants cuddles?”

Opening her tote, to showcase Biggie sweet chillen, JJ gave a nod to answer that question (Biggie loved cuddles with anyone that didn’t want to squish him) before she let out everything, speedily, that was on her mind. “Okay so I think Chai noticed me because I put on Addie’s lipstick, which is more progress I ever made with him even after you keep telling me to just be myself.” Rye and her sisters were the only ones that knew how bad JJ had it for the bad boy but she didn’t want to overstep or make Chai uncomfortable, so she tried her best to stay in her lane and be just friends. Her crush was getting harder and harder to bury and she knew if she didn’t do something now they’d waste their last year still being just friends. She didn’t want to be just friends anymore.

She wanted more.

To make Chai happy in ways that only lovers could but in her humble opinion Rye was always better in the department of sex and love, and knew Chai more than her. There was also Chai’s childhood best friend, and lover, Sunshine, to consider. Without a doubt, Sonny was a package deal if she wanted to embark on this journey. JJ had spent most of her highschool career thinking about her sexuality, her wants and needs, and while she was deeply out of her element in courting, she knew she’d be okay with sharing. Her heart had plenty of room to love more than just one person. She just hadn’t really tried anyone yet.

There were times she thought that maybe Rye was a better match for their mutual interest. That, however, rarely lasted long. She would never know unless she tried and she wasn’t one to harbor on comparing herself with her best friend. They had similar taste and that just goes to show that he understood her better than others. Well, except better than PJ. PJ was her twin. She had an advantage. Rye constantly encouraged her to try and assured her that what he had with Decky was not what she was seeking. JJ wanted commitment, which is why she couldn’t sleep around and explore, and Rye wanted companionship, to feel less lonely, and was in need of intimacy. He explained to her that he got that from a few people. Not just Decky.

“So I was thinking after the game — because we both know I need to do my drummer girl thing — we should go shopping so I can get him to really see me. But also! I don’t know if this is the time or place to talk about this but like, Jamie was not himself this morning. He was walking away from the murder shed and looking sad, so I kept him company and we’re actually going to the party together, weird right? But that’s beside the point. Whatever he has going on had to do with a really prominent hickey on his neck and I hope he is okay but like I want to know from you, what’s the beef between him and Chai? I was sitting in between them and it was… A LOT. I’m honestly glad Biggie slipped out and scared the shiitake mushrooms out of PJ. I really thought Chai was going to punch Jamie’s face in!” When she got everything out of her mind, she exhaled out, content that it was no longer trapped inside.

Rye had received Biggie from JJ while she spoke and the mouse had curled up under the collar of his flannel, something he’d taken from Sully’s closet on his last visit with the express interest of having them wear the same type of clothes on screen this morning, and the other boy hadn’t even noticed. Not that Rye was surprised, he’d pulled little tricks like this on the second host of the Morning Show ever since Freshman year and dude just breezed by completely unaware somehow even with more caffeine coursing through his system than Rye has anxiety, and that’s really saying something. Whatever, the fabric was comfy as hell and Rye had left behind his sherpa lined zip up hoodie of his that he knew Sully loved the softness of, so it wasn’t like he didn’t give a fair trade too. Sully probably just thought Rye left it on accident, but the smaller boy loved that hoodie and would never forget it somewhere, especially without asking after it for the whole week since. No, that hoodie was the streamer boy’s now just as much as his flannel was now Rye’s, it was just how friendships and companionship with him worked.

In order to process all of his friend’s words, Rye closed his eyes before slowly reaching up to press his earbuds in further and take a deep, grounding breath as his brain finished processing the wonder of Chai noticed me, shopping after school and moved along to the anxiety inducing Jamie, murder shed, going to the party together, Jamie and Decky tension. He dropped his fingers from the earphones and made sure to give Biggie an adoring scritch on his little head before letting his hands fall slack at his sides. Dammit. First Sully before the day even started and now JJ is dancing on the edge of it all too, getting a peek over the fence into a situation that by all means they shouldn’t have to worry about. He blew out a harsh breath and began tapping his thighs rapidly before making the executive decision that this was not the place to be having this conversation. Rye had nothing against Jamie, honestly- didn't even really interact with him outside the media center- and there was no reason to be spilling everyone’s secrets in the open halls.

“Okay. Okay, yeah, that lipstick does look fucking great on you by the way I’m glad it pulled Deck’s head outta his ass, and you calling him Chai is honestly so adorable I can’t even. Now come on, not here for the rest,” Rye grabbed JJ’s hand and began to drag her towards the best place he could think of. The library this early in the morning was almost strictly filled with student tutors and their charges, and avid readers who get lost in their books, which meant if you kept your noise level respectful, no one paid you any damn mind nor did they care for any gossip that did manage to filter past the printed pages of their textbook and novel induced hazes. They soon reached the library doors and Rye had to jump back last minute to avoid getting smacked in the face as one of them swung open and slammed into the wall. “Christ!”

“Watch it Twinkie,” The boy that had flung the door open sneered as he hefted his backpack higher on his shoulder. “Why are you everywhere?” Rye’s surprised look dropped when he saw who it was and he immediately rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and cocking his hip out to complete the judgmental stance.

“You didn’t mind this twinkie when you were desperate to be the filling, Ronnell,” He responded as the door swung closed, making the other boy grimace. As one of the Junior Firefighters and Junior EMTs, Ronnell and Rye had joint training quite often, and over the summer it had culminated into a night of disappointment and embarrassment. Ronnell didn’t take Rye’s attempted assurances well, in fact he’d turned on the other boy completely and treated him like shit since, so Rye just gave back as good as he got. “Maybe you can’t stop thinking of me so you keep manifesting me in your vicinity. Am I on your mind that much? Miss what you barely had a chance to have?”

“Fuck off, Shomer,” The larger boy spat, hands fisted at his sides. “Never even wanted to be with you in the first place, never want to again,” He shoved Rye back by the shoulder and stalked away at breakneck speeds, but not fast enough to avoid Rye’s parting shot.

“Whaaaaat? Really?” Rye called, waving with one hand and boosting his own voice with his other hand cupped on the side of his mouth. “But Ronnie, we made such a great pair for the three seconds you lasted!”

“SIR, TWINKIES ARE GOOD!” JJ called out before immediately getting a quiet shush by a male student poking his head out from the library entrance before closing it to go back to his book.

“You tell ‘im, Jay,” The malicious smile dropped off of his face the second the other boy was out of view and a scowl to rival Decky’s took over. “What a fucking prick, I didn’t even care but then he had to go make it a thing,” He grabbed the door handle to the library and threw it open, intending to go through and hold it open for JJ to pass the threshold as well. “I was more than happy with the fact that he could lift me up against a wall and keep me there I didn’t care abou-”

Rye ran face first into the chest of someone on the other side of the threshold.

“Was that prick the reason why you—” Niles breathed, glancing down at the boy that ran into him and back up at the girl that was staring wide eyed at him, like she had seen a ghost. He continued, “—were screaming? Mrs. Mads sent me out to check on it. You’re loud.”

Jordyn didn’t know how to react. While her best friend had many people that wanted to sleep with him, the one he wanted to sleep with badly, was the boy he just ran face first into. Niles didn’t back away and he even had his hand on Rye’s lower back, making sure he didn’t fall. JJ couldn’t help but blush for her friend. What a predicament to be in! How was he going to get out of this one? “I am… going over there. Catch you soon RyeRye.” Instead of saving her friend she decided to give him privacy so he can say whatever naughty things that were on his mind. Wait, no JJ. This wasn’t the time or place for that. Even so, she was going to give Rye space. He could use it so he could take in all that was Niles Sinclair.

“Are you okay?” Niles asked his dainty classmate as the curly haired black girl pranced away.

Rye had shot JJ’s retreating form a very clear don’t leave me look of panic, but his best friend, the traitor, never even turned around. Biggie’s whiskers were twitching against his neck and Rye was trying desperately to focus on that odd feeling instead of the warmth blooming from Niles’ contact point on his lower back. Instead of the mortification at the realization that Niles just heard him say he liked to be held up against walls. He would be getting back at her for this later.

“Loud? Sorry, yeah. I, uhm,” Rye wasn’t blushing. Someone doing something as little as touching him never made him blush. Yet he could feel heat creeping into his cheeks, especially when he realized he had put his hands up between them to catch himself at the same time Niles had steadied him with his hand on his back, and they were resting far too comfortably against the taller boy’s chest. He dropped his hands in embarrassment. Why was it so hot in here all the sudden? “I- yeah, I’m fine, you’re pretty comfy to run into.”

For once in your life, shut the fuck up, Gavriel. Please

The nonchalant gaze of the other boy watched Rye carefully. He couldn’t help but give a small smile as he shared an intent stare with his acquaintance. This wasn’t something Niles expected to happen to him this early in the morning but here he was, holding his cousin’s lover. “And you’re nice to hold,” Niles teased back, playing along with Rye. This was all good fun and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find Rye’s expression cute. “You know,” Niles continued, sliding his hand off and putting it to his side. He took a step back to let his shorter classmate breathe. “There’s a mouse in your shirt.” At this point, Biggie found its way in Rye’s flannel and started crawling down until he dropped on the floor. “And now on the floor.”

Biggie ran off.

“That’s- honestly sorry that’s JJ’s problem,” Rye answered, watching disconnectedly as the mouse ran in the same direction his mother had disappeared. It barely even registered to him nowadays that rodents chilling on someone’s person may be considered weird. He honestly just couldn’t believe the little shit had also abandoned him to this trainwreck of an interaction. On his part, at least, because Niles’ initial comment had done a wonderful job of turning any remaining areas of his face bright red. There were so many responses he wanted to give. Then don’t let me go, then hold me closer, tighter. Forget the mouse, I want you under my shirt. And so many more. However, all that came out was a stumbled, “Being held is nice.”

He was never going to recover from this. His voice had fucking cracked, wobbled like a tightrope walker over a dark precipice. He didn’t know why he was even entertaining himself, or why Niles was entertaining him at all. Rye and AJ were fucking, AJ and Niles were cousins, he had no doubt that Niles was aware of what was going on, but that smirk on the taller boy’s face was too playful to not be leaning into flirtation. Normally, Rye was the one wearing that smirk, luring someone in until they were hooked on him all the way through to the next morning when he slid out of bed and out of their minds. Except for those few that kept him around. Even when he’s been on this end of things with people like Decky, Helen, and AJ who were just as talented flirts as he was, no one had ever made him stumble over his words unless their lips were involved in the process. Well, Helen that first time in the media center but mostly because it had initially been her maliciously intimidating him and she had been both terrifying and incredibly attractive, which is a totally different situation.

“I’m sorry that was so stupid,” He mumbled into his chest, chin tucked in shame and unwilling to see the other boy’s face judging him for acting so ridiculous. Rye couldn’t be any more obvious with this crush, and as a serial flirt and bedhopper, he was honestly a bit disgusted with himself, unsure of just what made Niles Sinclair so different. So effective.

The other boy, a doctor’s son, just like Rye, redirected the conversation. It was as if he could read what was happening or he was good at picking up social cues. “The party, tomorrow.” He asserted, letting his voice carry in the space between them. He didn’t go over an octave. All Niles did was enunciate and fixed his brown eyes on Rye’s face, looking only at him. Hooking his thumbs in his jeans, he leaned his weight to his right and asked, “Are you going?”

“Yeah,” Rye answered in confusion, tilting his head. Of course he was going, Rye’s been to damn near every party he could logically get to ever since he moved here halfway through eighth grade. Parties were where he let loose, where he found people willing to have him, and where the way he tended to act was actually seen as somewhat acceptable. Unlike most people’s opinions on highschool parties, to Rye they were a sacred space where he did and felt his best. Occasionally, the vibes of the party would be enough for him and he’d go home alone, to the house that was always empty because of his mother’s crazy schedule, and he’d put his music on loud and open his latest book. Some nights, the parties were enough that he was actually okay with being alone with himself.

They were rare.

“Oh! Are you going?” He realized he’d barely responded to Niles’ question and the boy was still staring at him as Rye was chewing on his lip while lost in thought. He tried not to get his hopes up that this was actually leading to something, but he was hopeless in more ways than one.

In response Niles rolled his eyes and admitted (a bit unenthused at the fact), “Unfortunately.” Niles wasn’t like his cousin at all. Where AJ partied hard, Niles found peace at home or literally anywhere else. Where AJ got off with surrounding himself with others, Niles would much rather be alone. Where AJ screamed and roared, being the hype people didn’t ask for but clearly needed, Niles chose to keep quiet. Stay in his lane. Avoid the spotlight, at all cost, which was ironic when you considered who his best friends were. AJ and him? They chose to live different lifestyles and that was okay but this was the year he promised his friends he would try new things and stop being a judgy asshole.

This party was his first attempt to live a little.

Niles didn’t find the idea of parties, which was basically a place for teens to lack standards and self respect, as intriguing. Drink booze? Why was that worth his time? He could get whiskey out of his dad’s liquor cabinet. Smoke some weed or snort some coke? Nah, he’d leave that to his cousin. Fuck someone? Yeah, he’ll pass. They probably had an STD. Still, even with how grumpy Sinclair was, he seemed to ease at the thought of knowing Rye would be there. “My friends want me to go. I spent this past week listening to them both bitchin’ so yes, I’ll be there. I’m glad you’ll be there too. It’s good to know I’ll have someone worth talking to.”

“Oh, great!” Rye replied while perking up at the casual compliment, catching himself as he went to lean into Niles space and shrinking in on himself a bit instead. ’Control yourself,’ His father had always said, holding him out at arms length with strong fingers digging firmly into his shoulders whenever Rye would try and seek comfort with him the same way he did his ma. ’Not everyone wants some klutz falling into their space. Act like a man and stand firm.’ Rye didn’t know if Niles would be so forgiving if he fell into his chest twice today, and the conversation had at least been steered away from the earlier embarrassment he’d made of himself. Wringing his hands close to his chest, noticeably quieter, Rye smiled largely at Niles and offered without thinking, “Yeah, come and find me I’ll-”

Be with AJ, you dumbass. Rye’s smile froze as he remembered the situation once again. Niles was just looking for a friend, a life raft in the sea of chaos that was a Green party. Rye could be that, just that. It would be fine.

“I’ll probably be everywhere at least once, so I’ll keep an eye out for you too, yeah?”

“So you don’t want me to find you?” Niles raised his eyebrow, catching on Rye’s sentence shift.

Well that’s embarrassing. Called out so simply.

“I’m, I mean it’s just that…” Rye hated liars, so naturally he didn’t like to be one either. A bit of omission was fine. Like how AJ was omitting his rekindled situationship with Jamie, more likely out of sheer forgetfulness than any malicious intent. It’s not like Rye couldn’t just ask either, but really it didn’t matter to him. They were absolutely no strings attached and both of them were free to do whatever they wanted, and whoever they wanted, regardless of the nights they spent holding each other together when no one else was there to. Rye had already attempted his omission and Niles had caught him in the act, he wasn’t one to continue to bluster through something after that. “I’m gonna be with AJ most of the night, and at parties we’re both pretty loud and high energy which I know isn’t your thing…I can switch on and off no problem so I figured if I saw you it would be easier.”

“Message received,” Niles answered, giving a nod and checking his wrist watch. “Didn’t you come in with a friend? Don’t want to take too much of your time so I’ll catch you later.” The other boy gave a lazy salute before walking around Rye and leaving the library.

Was that okay? Rye wondered, suddenly very aware of the strong beating in his chest. That didn’t feel okay. Did I fuck it up? Did he leave because I upset him? Of course I did, of course I fucked up. His throat began to feel a bit restricted, every anxious, harsh swallow feeling like sandpaper rubbing together. Should he have lied? Niles left very abruptly, and Rye didn’t do well with those types of departures. His hands shook as he continued to wring them together like it would squeeze out the panic, distracting from the way his legs suddenly seemed numb, tingling so intensely with the sudden flooding chemical reaction that he swore he’d vibrate through the floor if he were a comic book character.

He needed his best friend, but he couldn’t move. His breath was coming in short and he could feel tears burning at his eyes as he stared mutely at the closed door. He knew he was an overthinker, but the way Niles had dropped any hint of flirtation in his posture and tone as soon as AJ’s name left Rye’s lips was a pretty clear indicator that it wasn’t just his skewed perception of things. People could probably see him right now, probably saw him just crash and burn in a spectacularly un-Rye-like manner. His tinnitus was ringing like crazy, weren’t his earbuds in? He could feel them resting in his ears, now almost painful while the skin there burned in mortification, but he couldn’t hear anything past the suddenly sharp, tinny tone that had taken over. He ripped them out frantically.

There was subtle movement behind him where someone put headphones on him and Placeholder by The Story So Far was playing. Gently, feminine hands, with sharp, long black nails placed themselves on Rye’s shoulders and eased his body to turn around. When Rye was facing her, Helen brought him close, holding him tightly, grounding him. “Breathe,” she whispered into his ear.

Rye let out a wordless sob as he felt Helen’s arms around him, keeping him from shaking out of his skin. He buried his face into her shoulder much in a similar manner to how he had with JJ earlier. He was trying to breathe, he really was, it was just that suddenly air really hurt and his throat didn’t want to open up to accept any. He tried to focus, eyes shut tight as he tried to narrow in on everything that made Helen, Helen.

Her pop-punk song was playing in his ears, her headphones much more efficient at blocking out the outside world and overpowering his internal noise than his little plastic earbuds ever could be. The melody was simple and with that key whine that helped make pop-punk what it is, making it identifiable and easier to regulate to. Her sharp nails ran soothing circles and lines along his back and head, helping uncoil tense muscle as she did so. She ran a little hotter than most people, throwing off heat like a radiator that always had Rye cuddling closer to her no matter how hot the actual temperature was, and she always smelled so enticingly of vanilla and amaretto, his nose unable to really separate the cherry and pistachio scents. Thinking of it had him taking an aborted breath, but it was better than the nothing he’d been able to pull in before. Eyes still screwed shut, Rye shook pathetically while enveloped in Helen’s protective hold.

“I-” His next attempt earned him a wheezed gasp of oxygen, and Helen’s scent flooded his system like a cleanser. His lip wobbled and he bit it harshly to force it to stop, drawing another harsh breath in past his gritted teeth. “^{I fucked up, Hellie.}”

Helen quieted him, stroking him methodically. “You don’t know that so don’t think that.” She felt his soft curls, twirling a few strands with her fingers, grasping him and steadily breathing. She allowed him to feel her chest move with each controlled inhale and exhale. Helen was calm and collected. Unbothered and unphased. She may be a mythic bitch but for Gavriel Shomer, she was tender, kind, and careful. She was observant and soft. Soft for her usual rep where aggression and anger defined her. Helen, at least for Rye, was vibrating with love. “The rat almost met the sneakers of Malcolm.” She snapped her gum, that hopefully hid, even if subtly, her smoker’s breath. “Don’t worry, it’s with your friend. The rat girl. Do you want to go to her?” She calmly offered, her hands continued to soothe and stroke. A constant motion. A repetitive action to show she was there and she cared. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Malcom’s a dick,” Rye mumbled into her collarbone, understanding just enough of her words through the music thanks to how aware he was of her voice and the vibrations he could feel from her throat as she spoke. He gripped her tighter. “Rat girl is named JJ. And yes please.”

“Okay, Sprinkles. I’ll take you to her.”

In the farthest corner of the library, where the beanie bags were, JJ laid out sprawled with Biggie splooting on her chest. She wasn’t a good friend for leaving Rye like that but what else did he want her to do? Stare and watch while he puts his foot in his mouth? If she was there, she was 99 percent sure Niles would’ve only stayed for seconds. If Rye seemed occupied, Niles would’ve let him be. It was something she noticed the timid, handsome boy did whenever they were in a shared space. As far as JJ could see, Niles Sinclair only had two friends and his cousin. Everyone else? He likely thought were okay but not once did he see him actively interact with anyone. That is until Rye decided to sit next to him.

If Niles was an introvert, and let's be real, he totally seemed it even if he was charming and good with words, then the more people that surrounded him the less open he’d be. Her taking a swift exit was for Rye’s benefit! It was a calculative move. She hoped he understood. If he didn’t, damn. What would she do to get him to forgive her? Buy him his favorite dessert at that fancy bakery? Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. Yeah, actually, that was kind of brilliant. She’d keep that in her back pocket just in case she needed to cover her tail.

When the person on JJ’s mind and his gothic supernatural entity appeared, coming from an aisle of many, many horror books, she sat up, making sure Biggie slid down her shirt and to her hands. Observing the two in front of her, she blinked twice and tilted her head; a frown immediately appeared on her face. She didn’t want to bring Rye into another panic attack so instead she made room on the beanie for him, holding Biggie with one hand, against her chest, and patting the beanie with her other, mouthing: “Come.”

At the sight of his best friend, Rye’s fragile dam broke once more, his puffy eyes again filled with tears and face screwed up in regret. Not letting go of his death grip on Helen’s hand, he stumbled forward and dropped harshly down onto the cushion, falling into JJ and curling up to her as the beanie shifted beneath their bodies. Slowly, his fingers detangled from Helen’s and his arm fell across JJ’s middle in a desperate squeeze, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still seeking contact from the goth too. Almost subconsciously, his leg extend out until his shoe was in touching Helen’s, making sure she was still there while he couldn’t see her or hear her from their new distance. Brokenly, his insecurity on full display, he whimpered the need Helen had already reassured him on into JJ’s soft curls.

“^{Please don’t leave me alone.}”

Fuck her. Helen wasn’t planning on staying in the library but here Rye needed her. She looked down at her dress, corset and all, and blew a little strand out of her face. “I’m going to this chair, right here. Literally next to you. I expect you both to pick me up once first period is over.” Shuffling to the beanie near the two others, Helen glanced behind her at the low chair and her dress. She dropped down and laid back, trying her best to not ruin her hair. She reached out her hand to grab Rye’s before closing her eyes and listening to the atmosphere. Helen truly did look like a beautiful corpse bride on a beanie bag.

”^Please…”

“I don’t think I can even if I wanted to,” JJ teasingly admitted. Rye completely took over her space, making sure she couldn’t get away. Biggie found his way nestled between both their necks, ready for a nap just like the dead woman. “Now. Do you want to talk about it or do you want to just lay here for a bit?”

“I don’t wanna cry again,” Rye answered, which was his tired way of saying ‘just lay here for a bit’. He squeezed Helen’s hand and focused on the steady rise and fall of Biggie’s bitty body against his pulsepoint. He could feel a bit of steady vibrations from where his feet rested on the thin carpet and he cracked exhausted eyes open to see Mrs. Mads casually wheeling an incredibly full book return cart in front of their little alcove, effectively giving them a privacy wall against the outside world. She pretended not to even notice them until she saw the boy’s eyes on her, and then she let a warm smile overtake her face and winked at him, holding her finger up to her lips before walking away as his eyes shut again.

Kids needed their rest, after all.

BHHS: Limitless

Yani

^{(Sahm•Yahn)}

17 • Agender • Pansexual • They/She • Single

(FC: Belle Sisoski; Dialogue: ac046d)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

”That one kid that blew the roof off the place Freshman year with an improvised violin shredding. It was sick, man. Since then I have made a name for myself as the DJ Violint Drop so the students that rave and party at least know that about me and that Kisho and I are siblings. The one always humming ideas and beats in the back of class. Not because of being shy, not at all, I’m just trying not to bother others as I come up with different rhythms and flows.

I’m a hype man! People really know that in these halls, ha! So cool bro, seeing the way people open up and bloom with a few positive comments. True ones too! My peers know I always find something real in them to believe in, because everyone has something- Potential, redeeming, repressed, overt- about them worth praising, believe that from me!

People say that when the two of us were born, Kisho got all of the chill and I got all of the energy, that he got the sports and drawing genes and I got the music and business genes. This is funny because most people don’t know that we aren’t actually twins, but we think it’s funny and so do our close friends so that is just another secret kept under wraps for my brother and I out of friendship and goodwill. We really were born on the same day, though, just in different countries to different mothers, ha! It’s like we were meant to be twins! I hang around the Elite because Ethan has always been a friend and we’ve all known each other a long time, but I am not considered one and mostly leave Kisho and them to their own thing and focus on my music! I just like to catch up sometimes at lunch, you know?”

► current dilemma

”Oyaji has realized how business minded I am and is now pressuring me to start an actual venture. He is not forcing me to take over the business, which is very cool of him, but he says I need something that isn’t my DJ career that I can see myself doing for a long time. I am totally thinking a Producer or Music Manager, I can use my business savvy, and there is so much talent in this school! If I don’t have something to show by the end of the school year, though, he’s going to make me shadow him all summer and summer is for the beach raves and festivals, man, not some stuffy meeting room!

Luckily, it looks like I am already on my way, because on Monday Helen Wells locked me in the music room while I was playing my violin, dressed as Shego which was one of my first cartoon crushes- so that was very not fair- and convinced me to help her start a band! That will be sick as sin, bro. I’ve been hounding Zay Strickland about joining but he is rather reluctant, so I’m thinking of also offering a separate partnership to him. Take that, oyaji!”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

”DJ handle is @Violint_Drop, my personal accounts are @Yan_Know_Who.”

► style

”Stylish but functional, typically with the jewelry my birth mother had sent with me when Oyaji took me in.” ^{(See Aesthetic)}

► ride & everyday items

”On the days that I drive Kisho and myself in we travel in my purple Ram Promaster. I keep my violin with me and a pair of headphones, and I also have my laptop to work on my beats in my free time.”

► occupation

”Rave DJ, both legit and underground, man, I am everywhere.”

► extracurricular activities

”I play violin for the school orchestra, am a part of the Foreign Languages club, Music club, Business club. Soon I’ll be part of a band! I am manifesting!”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

”A human beat box and always all over the place. Supportive and excitable with a high motivation and dedication for my passions and projects. Abrasive in a positive way, if that is even possible. Too impulsive for my own good sometimes, probably. Ha! I can’t help it, I just get caught up in the moment, man.”

In my free time I like to _______.

”Make my own music! Watch my brother’s games, go out to a party or rave. I love going on nature walks in the forest behind our home with my step sister Wakiya, we usually end up in a tree somewhere talking about everything and nothing for hours and it’s all very chill.”

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

”How to network like that Ramón boy from the Candies does. But, for music of course. I want my beats out there among the artists of the school just like he has his designs. Maybe if we get this band together people will be more willing to trust me with their sound!”

This is how I define success and failure:

”My success is all about getting the good vibes out there, man, no need to worry too much about anything else.”

I'm inspired by _______.

”Sick beats, my brother’s strength, the sheer amount of musical talent in this school, this grade, alone. People, nature, passion. With music, inspiration is everywhere.”

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

”I make my own beats and when I’m not listening to and editing those I will listen to literally anything! In fact please show me more music to expand my horizons with!”

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

”The first time I made my own beat! Kisho always listened to EDM and its connected genres so I spent so long in secret learning the best program for me and getting things right. When I was ten I showed Kisho and he listened to it on repeat for weeks! I could always hear it bumping out of his headphones even when he did not know I was even around so I knew he really loved it. It got me into my whole career!”

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

”Your mother loves you but she is in prison for a reason. You’re safe with the Fujimori name and you should really stop writing her letters before someone remembers that she had a child before the corruption scandal. Just saying, man, it would save oyaji a looooooot of money in covers and security, heh. In the end, though, you will be fine either way and your mother doesn’t get free until you are twenty four so no stress.”

The things that make me smile are _______.

”How often do you not see me smiling? What is there not to smile about, huh? Actually smiling is another thing people say I got all the genes for between Kisho and I which I think is rather rude, man. Sho-bro totally smiles if you’re worth it to him so me and the family get to see it! The Elites too, I’m sure.

What? Oh yes, this is about me. Family makes me smile, music and friends and raves! Nature walks and falling asleep watching things as a whole family. Long drives with my sound system up loud and the windows down, my siblings or friends with me. Playing my violin, performing, experiencing! Smiling just seems so natural to me, I could make a very long list.”

My whole life story in one sentence:

”Actually I have this one covered: The sound of life and the cosmos shoved into a human body, forever projecting their rhythm in search of the stars. There, see? I have artistic tendencies outside of my drawings.”

”Whoa Sho, deep. Deep. I was going to say going to say Musical disturbance only acceptable because they’re so damn good at it. I like his more though I am keeping that one, man! Kisho you should write me lyrics for a song- Kisho no, no! Come back I am totally serious-!”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

► extra information

• Font: Fatherday
• Yani is highly affectionate and praising, always happy for and proud of their friends and family and unafraid to share it.
• Has their eyes on a certain fellow Music club member.
• Samyan was born out of wedlock in Miri, Malaysia to a businesswoman who is currently in prison for 22 years on one of the largest corruption charges in the country’s recent history. She was arrested when Samyan was 2 and Hiro brought them home to Japan to raise alongside Kisho.
• Has no clue why their brother acts the way he does around Theo, aside from Theo being Theo, and it bothers them immensely.
• Family: Father is Hiro - 46 (FC Yutaka Takenouchi), “twin” sibling Kisho - 17 (FC Satsuki Nakayama), Stepmother Nora - 40 (FC Lily Gladstone), Stepsister Wakiya Redmoon-Fujimori - 21 (FC Blu Hunt)

BHHS: Limitless

Kisho

17 • M (FtM, but most don’t know)• Demisexual • He/Him • Single

(FC: Satsuki Nakayama; Dialogue: 04ac43)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

”The Elite that no one is quite sure how he got there, honestly. The one that always looks like he would rather be somewhere else, but really I do vibe with my crew…most of them at least. People are just seeing my resting face and making assumptions. When I was younger, my sibling and I were the foreign exchange students but by the time we were in middle school that label seemed to have worn off as we got established. I don’t really know much of what everyone thinks about me, honestly even when hanging out with my friend group I am wearing my headphones because the chaos is a bit too much for me. I assumed people just thought I was weird because a lot of them avoided me but Samyan said I was being stupid and that people were crushing on me and nervous to approach as I do not come off as open to conversation. They said that they heard people in the halls calling me Pretty Boy, which I hate. I hate being called pretty, I can’t help my face.

I don’t blame them however, given that if the people were not in school with me before Freshman year then they do not know why that would bother me. With the help of the whole androgynous asian stereotype blinding people, I passed enough by the time we reached BHHS that I just never told anyone I was trans, and any classmates from middle school were surprisingly respectful enough to not say anything, even...

Anyway, any other evidence to the contrary was easily scrubbed with my oyaji’s money and connections. Well, mostly…you can never gather and erase everything, especially if someone is making sure of it.”

► current dilemma

”Getting out from under a certain someone’s thumb.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

”@Kisho_Killshot2X everywhere. Secondary socials for my art are @Kisho_and_Tell, which I was told after the fact may come off as lewd, but I don’t really see it so I have never changed it. It is a show and tell like in grade school classes, I thought that was funny, it’s not my job to care about how other people will take it.”

► style

”Clothes.”

► ride & everyday items

”Samyan and I switch out driving every day. When it’s my turn we take my GR86. The trunk is usually stuffed with my sports gear and whatever musical item Samyan is focused on at the time. I always have my headphones, they are some of the best bluetooth and noise canceling on the market, and the battery lasts forever. I keep a charger on me anyway. I have my drawing tablet and sketchbook as well as my other art supplies, and often whatever book I’m reading at the time is in my bag as well. The only thing I am missing in my every day is some semblance of peace. Ha.”

► occupation

”None.”

► extracurricular activities

”Hockey, Soccer, Arts club, Foreign Languages club.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

”The group dad, the one that makes sure these idiots drink their water and don’t walk off of a cliff while staring up at the sparkly lights known as stars. They are probably some of the only people that understand when I am joking, but I don’t believe I would go so far as to say they believe I am funny.”

In my free time I like to _______.

”Read, draw, run extra practice and drills. I like to go to raves, but just the ones that Samyan is the DJ of because I get to be behind the curtain and lights, away from the crowd and prying eyes, where I can actually just enjoy the music without interruption.”

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

”The best way to find and destroy certain evidence. It does not sound the best but it is also almost assuredly not what you are thinking.”

This is how I define success and failure:

”I was born into success so my perception is rather skewed, but perhaps…manifesting your reality no matter how unfeasible it may seem. Failure is not trying in the first place, I suppose.”

I'm inspired by _______.

”My sibling’s unending passion and energy in everything they do, the friendships that have remained with me to this day, the beauty of your surroundings when you are able to simply sit and soak in all you observe.”

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

”That is entirely too much to ask for a questionnaire, I will just send you a link for my daily playlist. It’s mostly EDM to varying degrees. I like build ups and bass drops.”

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

”Yani already knew before this, but my oyaji, step-mother, and step-sister accepting my coming out when I was twelve and waiting a day until I knew they were not rejecting me before they started to ask questions. That night, before any questions, oyaji joked that it was nice to finally have another man in the house, and then we all simply stayed together and played wii-sports while everyone processed the news of my truth.”

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

”Do not get complacent, that is how mistakes are made. That is how you forget your surroundings.”

The things that make me smile are _______.

”I am not much one to smile, but I am by no means unhappy. I just do not smile often nor believe it to be a true indicator of happiness.”

My whole life story in one sentence:

”Oil tycoon heir skating on thin ice.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

► extra information

• Font: Sunshine
• Family: Father is Hiro - 46 (FC Yutaka Takenouchi), “twin” sibling Samyan - 17 (FC Belle Sisoski), Stepmother Nora - 40 (FC Lily Gladstone), Stepsister Wakiya Redmoon-Fujimori - 21 (FC Blu Hunt)
• Sports:
  
  • Fall - Soccer (Position: Striker/Center Forward)
  • Winter - Hockey (Position: Left Wing)
  • Spring - FORMERLY Baseball. Dropped out in middle school with no explanation, and has never explained since.
• Kisho is terrified of Theo Van Cise, and not even their closest friends in the Elite know why, or are even truly aware of this. To them it comes off as a general dislike with forced civility. He does everything in his power to avoid interacting with the other boy, even if that is just turning up the music on his headphones and pretending he’s not there.
• Kisho has been been on HRT since the end of the eighth grade, but while his dad is very support and understanding, especially for his upbringing, the patriarch did restrict Kisho’s choices in that the boy is not allowed to get any affirming surgeries until after he graduates highschool and gets accepted into a good college.
• While he has a calm head, the business savvy Fujimori is actually his sibling, Samyan.
• Kisho and Samyan are actually half siblings from different mothers, but as they were born on the same day and grew up together since they were toddlers, they simply get called twins.
• He is actually extremely fashionable, as seen in his aesthetic, he’s just a bit contrary when asked to detail his style because to him he doesn’t put much thought into it, just wears the clothes he likes and they happen to make him look like a trendsetter.
• Ethan was Kisho and Samyan’s first friend when they moved to America when they were nine and a half.
• Went to same middle school as several of the Elite.
• Hates bullies.
• Unless your character went to middle school with the Fujimori siblings and knew them well enough, your character likely assumes Kisho is cisgender.

BHHS: Limitless

_{Trixie @LovelyComplex
Monarch / Sin @Aces Away
Tally @BrutalBx}

____________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________

The girls waved in the direction of Decky and little Danny until they walked past the point of sight, knowing the younger boy would be keeping an eye out for them until he couldn’t anymore. Sin still had her arm around Monarch’s shoulder, dragging the smaller girl along with zero complaint from her victim. Monarch understood Sin’s need to deliver her love in a strong manner as an aunt who grew up with her nephews, and as the youngest sibling in her home Monarch was more than used to heavy handed steering and withstanding random weight changes when she was leaned on. Grumbling still about Decky leaving before she could snag a blunt off of him, the blonde pulled out her phone partway through the walk to the back and began to scroll through her contacts until she came across Tally-ho!.

To: Tally-ho!
U here? Back entrance sesh, green for green~

Sin Donaghue

There, short and simple. Either Tally would show up somewhat quickly with weed for her to buy or Sin would just have to suffer for a day. She dropped her phone into her front pocket and pulled Monarch in close, squishing their cheeks together which caused the other to have to adjust her glasses once more. Rolling her eyes, the busy bee put her hand up between their faces and gently but firmly pushed Sin’s face away so that she didn’t almost knock her glasses off for the third time today.

“I think you need to get laid,” Monarch said honestly while Sin looked at her in offense. “No seriously, I love the physical affection an’ all but you know it ain’t gonna be me so-”

“I just got laid like a week ago, are you sayin’ I’m desperate?” Sin asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, challenging her friend as they rounded the corner to the back entrance. “I mean I could literally get that taken care of in a few minutes if my text pans out so-”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Sin. Besides,” She added playfully, “You’re desperate for other reasons,” with that Monarch took off like a shot, laughing as Sin sputtered and chased after her. Unfortunately for the blonde, Monarch was faster on both her feet and her board, so she reached the entrance just a bit before the other and yanked the door open, stumbling in and falling to the ground with Sin landing on top of her as she caught her in a tackle. Her glasses went flying but Monarch started laughing, sprawled out on the school floor as Sin sat up but didn’t get up, keeping her friend pinned to the floor with arms crossed.

“That was just rude, you butterfly brat,” Sin said just as Monarch’s giggles cut off abruptly, prompting her to look down at her longtime friend. Monarch was stock still on the ground, head turned to her right where she could see the fuzzy blur of pristine white and black sneakers and baggy red sweatpants sticking out from under the stairwell, and could hear the faintest, breathiest cries from one of the last girls she expected. Sin, in an attempt to see what her friend was seeing, shifted from where she was sitting on Monarch’s butt to keep her down, dropped her knees down on either side of her friend’s waist and let herself fall forward until she was almost level with the girl underneath her, tilting her head until her hair fanned down onto the other’s head.

“Trixie?” Monarch asked, squinting her eyes to see the person beyond the blur, still on the floor and unfazed by her friend’s nosy actions atop her. Monarch knew Trixie as well as she knew anyone in the school, but she and Trixie, along with Jamie, had a special relationship only in the sense that Monarch was an amazing info broker and the Salt & Truth co-hosts paid and reciprocated well. They never tied her down as their source, not that they could if they wanted to, but something she respected about them was that they knew to not even try. She appreciated good intuition. She tilted her head, a bit of a task since she was still trapped beneath Sin, silently asking her friend to get off her so she could do what she needed.

“Oh,” Sin put simply, scrambling off and crawling forward a bit to grab Monarch’s glasses and hand them back to the smallest girl. Monarch sat up and scooched closer to the third girl under the stairs, putting her glasses back on while crossing her legs now that she was in front of Trixie. Sin, terrible in situations of comfort, awkwardly pulled out her phone and turned her back on the two in a mock of privacy, sending Tallulah Stratton an additional text. If she was going to have to deal with this before class?

To: Tally-ho
More than usual.

Sin Donaghue

Fuck.

Beatrix didn’t pay attention to the time. Hell, she could barely see where she was and where she found herself hiding. All she could feel in this moment was the aftershock processing through her body. It wasn't a great feeling. Gingerly, she pulled her head off her knees, her makeup running down her face, to meet the concerned eyes of her classmate. Someone she adored but she would never outright tell her that to her face. It wasn’t until she could clock that her hands were shaking from being in the state of fear that she knew she was in trouble. Trixie wasn’t as strong as she presented herself. They’d believe it was all false pretense. Trixie knew she really had fallen, just like Theo said, and now it was time to do her best and clean up her mess; the little they asked, the better off she’ll be. She didn’t need anyone airing out her dirty laundry, especially a girl who was a human computer full of confidential files.

Wiping under her eyes, trying her best to clean the eyeliner smudges, she softly apologized, “Sorry…” Her voice didn’t have as much passion, sass and firmness as it usually has. Her voice was uncertain. Scared. Unlike her. “I’ll give you your spot back. Just a moment please.” She didn’t intend to be here. Rarely did Trixie find herself in one of the smokers' spots. She had no need to, she didn’t smoke. But with her flight response activated her legs just naturally took her here because it was the last place anyone that was in her circle would find her. The last place Theo would expect her to be. The last place she even saw herself in. Anxious but trying her best to hide it, Trixie patted her pants pocket and sighed in relief. At least she had her phone.

“That wasn’t my goal,” Monarch answered honestly, looking the girl up and down as she tried to fix her makeup. Shaking, tears, soft voice, lack of eye contact. Confusion, embarrassment, fear. Fear did not fit Beatrix Kingsley. Monarch didn’t like it. “I just wanted to see if you were okay, and I don’t think you are right now,” She grabbed her hair scarf from her backpack and handed it over to the other girl so she could properly wipe her eyes. Sin glanced over her shoulder at the two girls. “You can get that messy, I have my ponytail wrap for the ride home so I wasn’t usin’ that today. Sin can fix your makeup if you want help, but I don’t really use it too much.”

“Volunteer me again today, why don'tcha.”

“I will, thanks,” Monarch replied, mimicking Decky from earlier.

Hesitantly, Trixie grabbed the scarf and dabbed her cheeks. “No, no it’s fine. I just need to get my bags and I can clean myself up. It’s really not a big deal.” Retreating emotionally, Trixie forced the fear to the back burner, down her throat and to the pit of her stomach, so she could find a prompt exit plan from this situation and act like this morning never happened. To be honest, she was strongly considering taking another sick day. Adjusting herself, she pushed herself up and stood tall. While not smiling, her tears had stopped. This was unbecoming of her and if anything unexpected like this were to happen again, hopefully, she would be more prepared, ready to fight and not shirtless. Trixie offered her hand for Monarch to grab, letting a tired smile grow on her face. “Thank you though, I appreciate the check up,” she assured.

Monarch accepted the hand up but didn’t release it once she’d gotten there, going the extra step to cover Trixie’s hand with her other. She wasn’t keeping her there, the other girl could easily remove herself from her grasp if she so wished, but Monarch was giving her a grounding point. She’d done it plenty of times, even more so since Decky and Sin moved out to California too and suddenly there were two flighty, emotional isolationists to deal with and no Poppy James or Charlie Decker to level them out. At least she had little Danny to help her with them, and she’ll occasionally message the two friends of Decky and Sin’s quartet that are still back in Oregon when she doesn’t know how to deal with them.

“You look like you need’a smoke a blunt more than just walk away. I’m sure your shit’ll be there, or at the lost ‘n’ found,” Sin gave her two cents, raising her eyebrow at Monarch as if asking, ’What?’ when the more socially aware of the two gave her a look over her shoulder.

“I know you don’t smoke, Trixie,” Monarch clarified, more for Sin’s sake than anything. “But if Sin’s plug stops by, since we ain’t got nothin’ right now, you’re more than welcome to try. She didn’t say it well but she’s right, you gotta relax a bit before headin’ out, not just bottle up an’ go. Do that and you never know when those emotions from whatever happened will rear their ugly heads again. You also don’t have to smoke just to stay, I’m sayin’ it would be appreciated if you stuck around so I really knew you were actually okay.”

“Well well.” A siren called from behind the glimmering sunlight. The voice was raspy and oozing sensuality. From the parking lot, Tallulah Stratton arrived looking every bit like the succubus she proudly claimed herself to be. Dressed in a figure hugging red dress and spiked leather jacket, Tally looked like she’d just stepped off the set of a goth rock music video rather than dressed for school. Her bright orange hair was illuminated like a naked flame by the high California sun and her skin shone enticingly with a smooth and soft glow. Tally Stratton was dynamite and she knew it. “Having an orgy and not inviting me? Tsk tsk.”

She tipped her sunglasses down the bridge of her pierced nose and with pale blue eyes she surveyed the congregation at the church of her feet. Sin and Monarch were no strangers to her; if anything they were two of Tally’s best customers. The third vixen though; also not a stranger but not someone she expected to see in this location; Trixie Kingsley. She has been close to her cousin Theo once, hell in another life they could’ve been friends or even sisters. Lucky for Trixie though, hells favourite harlot could give town flying fucked about her cousin’s personal life. She and Lex were toxic sure but Theo was fucking crazy.

Tallulah took a step into the shade, slapping Sin on her perky rear end and resting her hand there as she did before booping Monarch’s nose with her free hand. “Hey button.” She purred before turning her attention to the girl at the center of it all. “I come bearing gifts. How much do you want?”

Sin had been smirking since she saw Tally's fiery orange hair in the sun outside the foyer door, feeling a bit of excitement not just from the prospect of actually being able to get this smoke session going but from having Tally around as well. Tally was one of the few people that could handle the way Sin plays, and she was of the even fewer that played back. Add on that she and her twin were a wonderful source of more than just some weed, and Sin had truly found her match. She enjoyed releasing control to the other in a way she hadn't with any of her previous relationships or hook up, in fact Tally was the first one to flip that switch in her, and had anyone else approached her with such confidence and dominance she would have had them on their ass on the ground immediately. Not many would say that they went to the abrasive girl to feel relaxed or free and not be talking about the product she provided, but Sin could easily admit that Tally is the most fun she's had since coming to BH.

Because she could, and because the actual question was being deferred to Trixie- funny considering she didn't smoke according to Monarch- Sin took Tally's resting hand and slid it up and into her back pocket before leaning on the taller girl. Monarch’s tease about her needing to get laid may have been right, she may have been interested in seeing Tally more often than usual, but she was here now with her physical attention on her and that's what matters. It was a casual relationship, just like all the ones that were meant to last; it was when Sin let people put labels on what they were doing that suddenly the way she played around became a problem.

No way she was becoming a problem for the best lay she'd ever had.

This was turning out to be more lively than Trixie had expected. Not only did Monarch suggest she smoke a blunt, knowing well enough she never tried, but her brother, Noah, smoked so much that she felt like someone had to just not. She couldn’t tell if he did it because he was depressed or because he just liked to smoke. She couldn’t judge him though since he did make bread, via streaming and seemed happy. How he chooses to use his freetime is his own business. Her mother made it seem that weed warps your mind, just as much as any drug, so maybe there was a mild fear of trying it because of that. Trixie didn’t know any of these girls ‘side for Monarch, and didn’t know if she could trust them. What if one blunt turned into two or three blunts and she became an addict? What if it took her away from her productivity? What if she never left her room because all she did was smoke and play games? Sorry, Noah.

Even with all these questions, Trixie did find herself curious and looking at Theo’s cousin, which only reminded her why she needed to chill. It wasn’t like it was booze and she’d start opening up about things she didn’t want anyone to know. It was weed. How bad could it be? Worst case, she might get a little sleepy but she totally could still conquer her school day, tired. She has before. She doubted weed could be worse than a back-to-back all nighter. Keeping Monarch’s hand in her’s, Trixie observed the two baddies before cautiously asking the professional, “I… just want to relax and not worry. I don’t know what to ask for. I really have never done this before. My… morning sucked and I’d like to forget it, please.” In front of strangers, Trixie spoke with absolute honesty, without giving the details, of course. She hoped she made the right choice to put her guard down in front of these girls. She hoped this wouldn’t bite her in the ass next week. “Just show me and I’ll follow.”

Tallulah’s blood red lips curled into the smile not too dissimilar to that of a rattlesnake. It was a family smile; she had it, her sister had it, Theo had it. For all intents and purposes it seemed like the only one that didn’t was Bronwyn; then again maybe she just hadn’t grown into it yet.

The drug dealer could feel Sinead pressing herself against her body and it elicited a strong chemical reaction in her brain. Tally knew that her looks and behavior were proximity to power and control. Sin was a plaything that also made her money, how could she not want to invest? Greed was good, greed worked and Tally was greedy all the damn time. She gave the biker girl a playful squeeze before removing her hand and placing it into her own jacket pocket.

“The first one is free.” She reached deep to pull out an old cigarette tin that looked straight out of the early twentieth century and popped open the lid. “Since I’m a generous gal and all.” Tallulah took out a single pre-rolled blunt and stared deep into the gossip queen's eyes. “Open your mouth, let’s get you what you need.”

Taken aback, Trixie, with her warm, brown eyes gazed into Tally’s sharp, steely, and sensual stare. Never had she imagined she’d be in a situation like this, accepting a blunt and letting someone put it in her mouth. Putting anything in her mouth for that matter. She was a good girl, at least that’s what she told herself, but even the best girl’s have fangs and claws. Releasing Monarch’s hand, no longer needing the stability, Trixie relaxed her shoulders and said, “Fuck it.” Taking a step closer to the dealer, she offered her lips and opened her mouth, slightly, just enough to slip the cigarette in.

Tallulah unpursed her own lips and placed the joint between them. Her eyes never leaving Trixie, she lit the white stick of pure joy with her custom VCP zippo before taking a long drag, making sure to stain the roll up with her lipstick. With the signature devious twinkle in her gaze, Tally took a hold of the blunt and moved it to a short distance between her mouth and Trix’s waiting one. She turned and blew her smoke into Sin’s face before swinging her head round in a fashion reminiscent of a horror doll. “Take a good puff baby girl. Let it fill you up and then when you’re ready, breathe all those troubles away.”

With the blunt now in her lips, Trixie grabbed ahold of it, putting it between her index and middle finger. With the filtered end in her mouth, and the other end already ignited, all she needed to do was lightly suck and pause. She went slow, taking a ginger drag, followed by another one. She didn’t want to break in a coughing fit like she had seen her brother’s friends do countless times. She watched the head of the cigarette light up as the mellow heat passed through her mouth. The smell wasn’t the most pleasant and the sensation was tickling her throat. Still, Trixie was committing and refused to back down. She already got this far. She blew her smoke away from Tal, and the other girls, and then passed the blunt to Sin.

Puff, puff, pass, as the stoners do.

Sin easily received the joint from Trixie while Monarch watched the girl with analytical eyes, watching the way the first timer’s shoulders shook as she tried to hide her small coughs. Sin didn’t see how that was her problem, pretty much everyone coughed through their first time smoking, it’s just that the people they grew up- and surrounded themselves- with all got an early start compared to most. This whole being supportive to others thing really wasn’t her shtick, and neither was teaching or coddling new smokers. Trixie was tough, she’d survive. But no, Sin could already see the little gears turning in Monarch’s crazy computer brain, probably processing Trixie’s stress or discomfort levels or some other crazy shit that the bombshell blonde didn’t understand. Sighing out her hit, she passed the joint to Monarch and slid up to Tally, taking a moment to return the other girl’s earlier favor, with interest. She slid fifty bucks into the orange haired dealer’s back pocket, giving her a squeeze back, and made sure she saw the extra ten in her other hand before tucking it in the small pocket on the front of the girl’s jacket. Her fingers danced along the spikes for a moment before she dropped her hand from the leather entirely. The extra ten was for the last minute inconvenience, but the extra touches were for her. She grinned, looking up just slightly to meet Tally’s ever-challenging eyes.

“I’ll just get my usual then, thanks for showin’,” She said, pulling away now that she’d paid and played with the other girl.

Tallulah would never deny the electricity she felt through her body when it was touched. What she’d learned over the years however was that everyone had their own spark, their own voltage that was noticeably different from another. Some were middling, boring even, some were surging but short and then there were the rarer ones, like Sinead, that left a hunger, a want for something more. This girl from Oregon had a charge inside of her that Tally had never experienced before but was craving to experience more of.

“I love to please.” The redhead said suggestively before reaching into her handbag and pulling out another cigarette case different from the first. She slipped it into Sin’s pocket before turning to Monarch. She recognised the girl from the skate park, she also knew that she was close to the PLC. On the battlefield of the Parking Lot; she was an enemy. Here underneath the stairs, with a sister in need, she was a strange bedfellow and ally. “You.” Tally lifted her finger and placed it beneath Monarch’s chin. “Play nice.” Her sultry voice sang as her eyes drifted to Trixie and the back again. “It’s her first time; be gentle.”

Tally straightened her jacket and then ran both of her hands through her beautifully colored hair, arching her body as she did to allow her curves room to breathe. “You girls have got this covered, I’ve got more business to do.” She looked with starved eyes at Sin and smiled. “Find me later, if I’m not too busy maybe I can get you the rest of your product.” She blew all three of the girls kisses and the hidden fourth one that had been watching them the entire time. “Ciao ladies. It was your pleasure.” With the final word, Tallulah turned and began to walk back towards the hellmouth from which she came; swaying her hips to tease and hypnotize those she left behind.

“I know how to be gentle,” Was all Monarch had mumbled, obstinate at the warning but unwilling to truly combat the taller girl. The Strattons and she were aware of each other, and that was all they really needed to be. Monarch liked to skate so she spent a lot of time out back around the PLC, and she was a freelance infobroker that they made use of, and Monarch liked Addie and their friendship. Addie was a fun person to be around and her energy was intoxicating, as many that cared for the girl knew. The Pixie girl and social Butterfly had an understanding when they hooked up that Monarch was in no way looking to go deeper into any romantic aspect of the matter. The busy bee simply needed to destress and Addie knew multiple ways to help the overscheduled and deceptively tightly coiled girl relax. So, by default of association, the Strattons did little more than call her diminutive nicknames when they did cross paths and boop her on the nose like she was some silly kitten. There was no animosity until they hit the concrete out back.

That suited her just fine.

With Tally now gone and the girls in silence once more, Monarch turned to Trixie, taking a quick hit of the joint and releasing the smoke slowly while staring at one of the few girls in school smaller than her, no expectation in her eyes as she let the smoke rise from her barely parted lips. To the side, Sin raised an eyebrow, now aware of why Tally had thrown a warning at her normally responsible friend. Monarch liked to help, especially if she knew how to make something easier, but Monarch is also from generations of gang members and experiences that most people don’t see outside of a crime novel. Monarch liked to help, but sometimes her understandings of a normal person’s emotional processes or limits were…skewed.

“Hey, I’mma just keep watch if you wanna do you, it looks like you’ve got it handled,” Sin said as she clocked the face of a freshie peeking through the window of the hallway doors. She pushed her way through the doors, making the kid stumble back and almost drop the items he was carrying. Like she said, Monarch had things handled. Sure, Sin didn’t get to smoke nearly as much as she wanted to before class, but it wasn’t often that the Monarch she knew got to come out and play in Beverly Hills, so she was willing to give up the weed just this once so that her overbooked social butterfly could partake in some mischief. She was just a good friend like that. And as she’d mentioned in her earlier thought process, Trixie was tough, she could handle it. Monarch was just a hell of a way to get introduced to something. As the doors swung shut behind her, Sin looked down at him, leveled her best unimpressed stare and asked, “Can I help you, kiddo? You’re kinda intrudin’ here.”

“I uh, I have to get these to Trixie Kingsley-”

“Oh okay thanks, I got that from here,” She cut him off with a harsh and condescending pat to the cheek, shocking him into silence as she used her other hand to swipe the belongings from him. In a practiced move she used to use on her nephews, Sin spun the boy around by the shoulder and lightly booted him on the ass, sending him tumbling back down the hallway he came from. She waved merrily at his back and called after him, “You’re a real peach an’ all, but fuck off okay!”

Back inside, Monarch had received the joint back from Trixie after another pass, and once again watched as the girl attempted to power through her cough instead of just let it out. “Y’know it ain’t healthy to hold in a cough,” She said simply and without judgment, ashing carelessly onto the floor as every smoker that uses the stairwell does. It rubs into the school rug just fine, and that gets cleaned every night, no harm no foul until you drop something that’s lit. “So there’s a way to do this where you don’t have to hit it directly and it won’t risk burnin’ your throat, if you wanna try it, but it involves me helpin’. As a delivery system’a sorts.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Trixie coughed in response, trying to process the itch in her throat and the tingly feeling coursing through her lithe, small body. “What? Like you’re going to kiss me or something?” Trixie jokingly replied. Already feeling the effects of the weed hitting, her shoulders were more relaxed than usual, her senses were heightened, seeing more detail in Monarch’s face than she usually had, and it seemed she lost track of time, or it felt like time was lapsing right before her eyes. Monarch had a pearly white smile, tight cheeks, and a refined nose. Honestly the closer she got to it, the more she realized how perfectly symmetrical it was. “I hope your friends tell you everyday how pretty you are, Butterfly.”

Monarch flashed her pearly white teeth right at Trixie, braids cascading off her shoulder as she tilted her head and her whole face scrunching up with the smile as she laughed. Trixie was certainly already feeling the effects of the joint, but she didn’t really seem to be enjoying the process of getting there and that was the part Monarch was here to help with. Trixie was cute like this, a bit faded and more open with her words and praise, and she was finally relaxing which was the main goal of this whole thing.

On top of that, the dual meaning of Monarch’s name matching her so well that she gained nicknames from both interpretations never ceased to amuse her. She and her siblings were all named after types of royalty, but Monarch’s birth name as well as the name she used while running in the Trip-S were both as chameleon-like as she was. Monarchs were queens and kings but also the most well known butterflies in the world, and an Atlas moth developed wings that mimicked the appearance of snake heads as an evolutionary technique. In the Trip-S, it was her job to always be one of the most dedicated Serpents while also never appearing to truly be one, and she had been great at her job. Part of the Trip-S or not now, that kind of role doesn’t just leave you.

“Yes, they do actually,” Monarch responded easily before slowly sliding into Trixie’s space as she hit the joint. Her close friends were almost always extremely supportive, and where they weren’t complimenting her or her looks there was always an acquaintance or bedfellow to keep stoked the small fire of ego she contained. Looks like today was Trixie’s turn up to bat. “And yes, I am,” She continued in regards to the girl’s first question, pulling in another hit but this time not inhaling the smoke. She gently grabbed Trixie’s chin with two fingers and a thumb and guided the other girl’s face until it was tilted to the perfect degree for their minor height difference. “If you’ll let me, of course,” Her voice was thickened by the smoke, lowered to a register that would likely be called sultry were it falling from someone else’s lip. Looking Trixie in the eyes one more time for any sign of rejection before guiding their faces together with deliberate intention.

When Trixie jested about this being a kiss, she didn’t exactly expect it to be a kiss. For someone who made sure to know the ins and outs of school, and collect information on her classmates, she was completely and utterly out of her element. While her big eyes widened a little, staring intently in the other girl’s tender, crystal-thimble gaze, she wasn’t scared. Not like how she was in the bathroom with Theo. She felt safe, intrigued and maybe a little turned on, but Monarch didn’t need to do that. When Monarch edged closer, in a way that allowed Trixie to process exactly what would happen and to pull away if needed, making her actions clear as day, the latina didn’t fight or pull back. Letting the crashing wave hit her, riding the high, she leaned forward, to meet the other girl half way, giving her consent.

Closing her eyes, Trixie thought to herself: fuck it. What happens under the stairs, stays under the stairs. If Monarch was speaking honestly, this would take the edge off of her and she so desperately wanted to forget what just happened to her. Theo would no longer be on her mind. Theo would be buried, six feet under. Theo would disappear. She would be numb to it all and be able to carry on with her school day as normal. Just a little high.

She let the girl kiss her.

Monarch fought the proud smirk that threatened her features when Trixie reciprocated. She’d given the other girl ample time to pull back, to deny her, to make her choice. Monarch was no fool, she was very well aware that the state she’d found the normally controlled latina in could be product of very few things, and she wasn’t about to be an added stressor due to any similar actions. She may have been giving the options, but she was letting Trixie be the one to take it. Take back control.

Something told Monarch that the other girl really needed it, and she was happy to provide.

When their lips finally met it was gentle, Monarch making sure to keep the pressure light for the shortest moment as she allowed Trixie to continue processing at a relaxed pace. She’d taken her fingers away from the brunette’s chin when she’d leaned in on her own, and they ghosted along Trixie’s jaw as her hand traveled all the way to gently cup the back of Trixie’s. All this was in the matter of a single moment, and before it- like the smoke circulating behind her full lips- had a chance to stagnate, Monarch used her grip on the other girl to press their mouths together more firmly while tightening her grip on the back of her head and brushing Trixie’s bottom lip with her teeth, waiting for that surprised breath that would transfer the smoke from her parted lips into Trixie’s eager lungs.

Parting her lips, following Monarch’s lead, Trixie found her hands now resting on the other girl’s shoulders. The kiss was soft, smooth and secure. At this point, she understood what was happening. She opened her mouth just enough, for the smoke to seep in, when she inhaled, but not wide enough where it felt like she was going to eat Monarch’s face. She hadn’t been kissed in awhile. Not because she didn’t want to be kissed or anything. Kissing was meant for her lover and she didn’t have one since her break up with Theo. She wasn’t looking to date right now. Her priority was her studies, her newspaper and her portfolio.

However, to say this didn’t feel good would be an absolute lie. She just hoped she wouldn’t regret it later. In this instant, after the smoke flowed into her mouth, Trixie found herself leaning into the kiss more. The high shifting to something beyond the weightless feeling. Her body heat grew, her heart rate began to race, and her concentration was barely focused. She wrapped her arms around Monarch, subconsciously. She needed to. She didn’t understand what was happening to her but she needed to be grounded, rooted to the ground, and the closest person to her was her friend. When their lips separated, she giggled, “Wow.” This was intense.

Monarch had released Trixie’s head when her sudden eagerness shone through, dropping her hand to rest on her hip as the other girl put her own arms around her neck. It was increasingly obvious that Trixie really needed this, and that the weed was circulating nicely through her system before their lips ever met, meaning the relaxation was coming from more than the smoke she inhaled from the darker girl’s lips. Despite Trixie pulling back enough to speak, their bodies were flush against each other as Trixie leaned into her, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t also feel a reduction of her own stress at the physical contact. It was why she had friends like Addie, and people like Levi Green-Locke. Addie understood, and Monarch found multiple forms of release from the way she toyed with the king of Drama and his control issues. It was another reason why she offered this avenue to Trixie in the first place, because Monarch understood the power of physical intimacy in all its forms.

“That’s technically called shotgunnin’,” She said with a quirk of her lips. The joint had burned out between her fingers as they kissed, and she tossed the dead filter towards the open trash can in the corner. “Whaddya think of it? Feelin’ good?”

“...I dunt know how to feel,” Trixie admitted, allowing Monarch and Sin to manhandle her and bring her to the comfort of her car. “It’s like… I feel like I’m in a forever state of dejavu or maybe I’m just confused. Or maybe I’m like in the sky. Am I in the sky?” What was she even saying… “It’s just a lot happening right now.”

“Jesus, Einstein I thought Tals told you to be gentle.” Sin admonished from where she stood outside the smallest girl’s car, having helped Monarch set Trixie down in her backseat. She’d come back out to the back entrance foyer from the hall just in time to see the first timer leaning all her weight onto her diminutive friend. It had taken the entire following walk to Trixie’s car for the girl to answer Monarch’s last question, and the girl seemed like she was functioning in slow motion. “Have we ever gotten this fucked up on just weed?”

“Maybe when we were like nine and first started, our bodies were pretty small back then, easy to smoke too much,” Monarch responded, ignoring the blonde’s jab at her seemingly reckless actions with the newspaper Co-Editor.

“Your body’s still small now.”

“Even smaller back then, and tryin'a keep up with all the older kids.”

“Yeah, I guess we did use to green the fuck out back then,” Sin conceded, putting a steadying hand on Trixie’s shoulder as the girl began to list to the right in her seat. “Girl you gotta get some sleep. Here, I got your shit from the bathroom,” Which was true in a sense, despite her not going all the way to the bathroom herself to get it. Monarch was back to watching the parking lot for any witnesses while Sin guided Trixie back into her car until the barely coherent girl was lying comfortably with her head resting on Monarch’s folded up hair scarf, the fabric she’d previously used to wipe her eyes. “You gonna be good out here, Trixie?” She asked the other girl, not really expecting a response with the state she was in.

“I’ll check up on her between periods,” Monarch assured, unbothered by the situation. “Bring her her favorite snacks and all. It’ll be the best first high she’ll barely even remember.” Sin stared at her best friend with a lack of concern that most certainly should have been present over her actions.

“You’re gonna break someone one’a these days.”

Monarch’s responding grin was sharp and dangerous.

BHHS: Limitless

Toury

17 ½ • F • Bisexual • She/Her (Make/Me) • Dating Neveah Morgan, terrorizing everyone else

(FC: Gage Golightly; Dialogue: d16c89)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

”Mr. Phoenix’s daughter, Dash’s step sister, the bad influence that encouraged Helen Wells and Amy Kwon to the dark side until we became the Tantalizing Trio. A flirt, a vixen -or succubus depending who you ask- as well as a disrupter and an instigator. Just as likely to break up couples with my actions as I am to create new ones. Freelancer for the Candies because it’s always fun for me regardless of how it pans out for the targets. The girl that can give you a run for your money all the way from the track to the bedroom, and someone not for the faint of heart.

I think, because I’m seen flirting and/or making out with so many people, no one really realized that I’ve been dating Nevaeh since some time back in Sophomore year. Either that or no one ever wanted to believe it, I don’t know, but it was never yelled through a megaphone for the whole school to hear so I guess people think it’s not official and that I’m single. It is and I’m not, she’s just always let me play because I’m so open about it. When she came back to school after Juvie, she wouldn’t even look at me, and of course I couldn’t let that shit slide after I gave her like two whole weeks of space, so now that we’ve gotten that miscommunication out of the way I’ve definitely been sure to make it more clear to all who come across us that we’re together. I’ve gotten in trouble for indecent actions my whole time here, but I think I’m on my way to suspension with how avid I’m being with Nevaeh every chance I get.”

► current dilemma

”Trying to figure out how to convince my girlfriend that she deserves love, and she isn’t some void with nothing to give. You’d think the love and pleasure would get to her brain eventually with how actively I give it, but alas, I guess I’ll just have to try harder. She can’t get rid of me that easy.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

”@Ten_Cent_Tour after some bitch thought she made a funny insult for me back in the seventh grade. Unfortunately for her, I really was on a tour to see how many people I could get at the time and slutshaming has never worked on me, so I ran with it instead. @Cross_Country_Tour for the boring parts of my life that I share with family, jobs, or colleges.”

► style

”Breaking dress code so often I’m surprised dad doesn’t get in trouble over it. I’m here to draw out desires and impulses, and my clothes almost always reflect that. If you look at me and think ”That’s hot on her, but would be even hotter on my bedroom floor,” then I’ve likely got it in my wardrobe. When I don’t feel like going on the prowl, which honestly is super rare, I’ll wear douchebag Tees and jerseys and even leave out my contacts in favor of my glasses.”

► ride & everyday items

”My red 2014 Subaru Forester, Stupid Cupid, which I absolutely have not been caught with my girlfriend in during school hours. Absolutely not.”

► occupation

”I’m my step-mom’s Assistant now that hers is going through a pretty rough pregnancy. She still wanted to work so we basically just switched jobs and now she’s sitting comfy at her home as mom’s remote Secretary. She’s a classical musician that could be in the big leagues, but due to none of your business she’s just doing events like weddings and other ceremonies.”

► extracurricular activities

”Cross Country in the Fall and Track & Field in the Spring. I take the lead in Pole Vault and the 400m Dash.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

”Oh hold on I’ll tag the girls in. I’m not asking Nevaeh because you said friends she’s more than that ‘kay? Okay, Ames is up first.”

"An agent of chaos that you want to get swept up in. I wish we had met under different circumstances only because we would've had so much more time getting up to no good together."

”Aw, what peach, right? Okay Hel’s turn now.”

"You know those boys that get you down? Toury can put them in their place and it's sexy as fuck. It's too bad she has a girlfriend, we used to have a lot of fun. Freshmen year we basically fucked all the time. We weren't crazy tight but we sure as hell knew each other's bodies well. Shit happened, life happened and now she's a killer queen, riding with Amy and me. If there's a fire, she already has the gasoline in hand. A total vibe. A fucking ride or die. A cunt, a fiend and a bitch. That's my Toury."

”See? That’s my bitch right there. These are my girls, my besties, if you’re not satisfied with their opinions of me then just sit there edging for the rest of your life.”

In my free time I like to _______.

”Go out with my girls, tease my step-brother Dash, harass my girlfriend with my love, toy with unfortunate souls to see how they’ll react. What? Don’t give me that look. Have you not seen the Complexes masked as human beings that run around this school, how can you not want to play with all of that- uh, those- them. How can you not want to play with all of them?”

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

”What makes everyone tick.”

This is how I define success and failure:

”I don’t know,” *Tourmaline laughs and smiles wide, leaning back in her seat while crossing one leg over the other and throwing an arm carelessly over the back.* ”All I know is that with my girlfriend back, my Tantalizers by my side, and our family dynamic settled at home, I’m feeling pretty fucking successful.”

I'm inspired by _______.

”The look in someone’s eyes when they realize that despite knowing exactly what I’m about, I still managed to get them under my thumb, they still lost the power struggle that they were silly enough to believe they had chance in in the first place.”

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

”She Calls Me Daddy - King Mala, Abracadabra - Qveen Herby, Kill Of The Night - Gin Wigmore, W.I.T.C.H. - Devon Cole, All That Glitters - Earl, Ripe - FLAVIA, Devil’s Worst Nightmare - FJØRA, That Bitch - Sizzy Rocket.”

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

”When I was younger and I had a day off from school, dad would turn it into a take your kid to work day, so I’ve been stalking the halls of BH since before I could even actually walk. And when there’s an adorable little girl with hair potential hidden behind brushed out frizz and big brown eyes begging for some complimentary eyeshadow, well, the pretty girls of the Scenester cliques each year made me an honorary. I was destined from day one, it’s just kind of funny that I also turned out to be great at my chosen sport and thus doubled down.

Anyways, my fondest memories are sitting with all these older kids while they gossiped and doted on me, because it showed me exactly how I wanted to be and be treated when my turn finally came. Check the yearbooks throughout the past two decades, you may see a mini Toury popping up in the occasional picture.”

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

”You think being one of the first girls to get her period is going to be a surprise? Wait until you realize you’ve fallen in love.”

The things that make me smile are _______.

”Smiling like the cat that caught the canary is sort of my bread and butter, baby.”

My whole life story in one sentence:

”Sexual force of nature held back from completely destroying the dating scene at school purely through love and loyalty to her longterm girlfriend.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

► extra information

• Font: Restless
• Part of the Tantalizing Trio with Helen Wells and Amy Kwon
• Daughter of English teacher Mr. Phoenix and step sister of fellow classmate Dash Day.
• More to be added

BHHS: Limitless

^{Immediately after: Love Is a Battlefield
Location: First floor disabled bathroom, previously used by Trixie in Thoroughbreds
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse}

____________________________________________________________________

To: AJackass
U better be goin 2 c Chris
Dont do smthn stupid
…
Pls

Decky Boaz

Decky’s hands shook only slightly when he pocketed his phone after sending a text off to AJ. Whatever was going on right now was not his place, AJ had already fled and that usually meant he was fleeing towards his best friend for comfort. AJ would get a hold of him if or when he needed him and at that point if school was still on then he’d either entrust Danny to Sin or grab him and ride out, but until then there was someone else that needed his attention and supply. Decky pushed open the door to see Parker pacing back and forth, frantically swiping her journal pages with a dry paper towel and mumbling curses to herself while her lip was trapped dangerously between grinding teeth.

He hated that habit, Danny had it and they’d only gotten him to stop by making sure he had access to gum 24/7 so that his baby brother didn’t turn to less savory vices like the rest of them had. Their cousin, uncle Eiran’s son Zion, was basically a walking candy shop in the school hallways, his bag stuffed to the brim and prices unwavering, but any time he crossed little Danny in the halls, the Junior was throwing himself over the smaller boy’s shoulders and stuffing a pack of gum into his pocket. One of Decky’s biggest fears when he and Danny had joined up with Sin and her older brother Rian to move down to California and settle where his newly-discovered uncles had made their lives, had been that the loss of support from Sunshine and the rest of the Gravette crew would be damaging for both him and his brother. Luckily it became the opposite, and they maintained contact with their found family back home and found even more support in their new one.

His uncles, Aunts, and Zion had all been receptive to and understanding of the two damaged boys that arrived on their doorstep, Decky fresh out of Juvie and leaning heavily on a sheepishly waving Rian, wounds from the last ambush inside still feeling fresh even after a couple weeks. They reconnected with Monarch, whose family had moved out here while Decky and Monarch’s brother King had been serving their sentences. The Wilsons were there, AJ befriended him when his uncles introduced them and got him work at Dom’s, and with AJ came basically all the Gearheads and then some. Decky’s fear had turned out to be unwarranted, and the Boaz brothers found themselves surrounded with more family, both blood and found, than they even knew what to do with anymore. All that being said, everyone had their own way of helping, and tough love always got through Decky the best so he didn’t really know the soft approach to things.

“Hey, no, you’re gonna chew through,” He said, striding right up to the girl stuck on loop and grabbed her cheeks in his hand, pulling her face up from the journal and making her look at him as he squeezed until she opened her jaw and released the abused flesh from her teeth. Parker reeled back as she caught up with what was happening, and as she dropped her journal while raising her hand to push Decky away, he had suddenly dropped down to catch the treasured item before it hit the floor. The consequence of this was an open palm shove to the chest becoming and open palmed strike to the face, and Decky’s head snapped back while he let out a sharp, “Fuck!” as his free hand flew protectively to the abused area. Stumbling back out of his crouch, Decky glared at the wide eyed girl across from him.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” PJ fretted, stepping back too in order to put more space between them and let Decky recover. Decky just took his hand off of his face and held it up, signaling her to stop talking. Her jaw clicked shut as he scrunched his face a few times to chase away the tingling feeling spreading from the contact point.

“I’m fine, it didn’t even actually hurt,” He assured, snapping his fingers loudly when Parker went to bite her lip again. “Stop that, christ, bite literally anythin’ but your own flesh for me, okay?” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a Swisher foil, tossing it to Parker who fumbled before gently trapping the pouch against her chest. She opened the seal to find two blunts sitting inside, likely rolled by the boy this morning, and looked back over to him in time to see him putting her journal into the back pocket of her bookbag. She tensed again when she realized he’d been in contact and possession of her open journal this whole time.

“You didn’t look at the pages did you?” She asked, tone suddenly sharp instead of anxious. Decky rolled his eyes at the change in demeanor but shook his head for the girl’s benefit so she could relax.

“I don’t care about your secrets,” He answered, signature scowl back in place. “You’re welcome for fuckin’ savin’ it from this nasty ass floor by the way, don’t need ya goin’ off the rails before the Mornin’ Show’s even over. Now light the blunt, Jones, or I’m takin’ it back.”

“It’s not a diary, dumbass, it’s a journal. You know, for like, poems and lyrics and stories?” PJ argued, but complied with his demand and pulled one of the sticks out with shaking fingers. “And Biggie was all fucking over it…” She knelt down to her bag and grabbed a lighter so they could both move over to the window. Decky reached up to crack it, having a much easier time with the task at his height. Parker took a long first hit and held it as she passed the blunt to its creator. The heat traveling through the roll had stung as the temperature hit her tender lip, and Parker realized she had bitten through the skin before Decky had gotten her to stop. No wonder he’d been so insistent. As if it were an afterthought, she threw in, “Thanks, by the way.”

“I ain’t a dumbass, of course I know. One’a my boys back home is an incredibly talented writer,” Decky countered, thinking of his friend Charlie from Gravette. That boy consumed and produced literature like no one else Decky’s ever known, it was honestly astonishing, and little Danny loved his moments during video calls where he got to talk to the older boy about whatever he was reading at the time. “They’re all secrets if y’ain’t sharin’ ‘em with anyone, and I’ve seen ya almost bite off people’s heads over so much as glancin’ your way when you’re workin’ in that thing. So: secrets.”

“...Okay, fine I guess,” Parker conceded when he stopped to hit the blunt himself. “But I’m still not letting you see any of it.”

Decky let out a rough sigh, all the smoke billowing out towards the window before he turned to give her an exasperated look. “I just fuckin’ said I don’t- ya know what? Nevermind. But if ya really care ‘bout that shit ya should be sharin’ it with someone. Jus’ sayin’,” Before she could argue with him, he soldiered on. ”Anyways, how the hell is your rat thing still so bad when your twin has like twelve of ‘em stashed in y’all’s bedroom?”

Parker gave Decky a confused glance as she hopped up to sit on the decommissioned radiator under the window, trying to remember if she ever mentioned that she and JJ shared a bedroom and coming up blank. Did he know for sure or did his mind just default to siblings sharing a room? Maybe he assumed because they were twins and just happened to be right. No matter.

“Because JJ is a lax parent and lets them get out and into my bed at night,” PJ dismayed, accepting the blunt as it was passed back to her. “Can you imagine waking up with a rat half an inch from your face, staring you down? I mean it’s jus-” She stopped when she noticed he was smirking at her with a look of entertainment, head tilted to the side. ”What?”

“Jones, I used ta wake up in the back yard after a night’a lockout with rats and raccoons lootin’ my pockets for scraps,” He answered honestly. “I’m not tryin’a knock your fears or anythin’, but ta me that sort’a phobia is a luxury ta have.”

“Ok, that? That right there? The vaguely horrifying shit that you say so casually like it makes sense? It doesn’t,” Parker pointed out, trying to steer away from any rodent talk while also expressing genuine concern for the boy leaning against the wall in front of her. “A night of lockout?”

“Sometimes, if they got sick’a beatin’ me and I was still bein’ obstinate or they didn’t wanna hear me moanin’ in pain all night, they’d just toss me out in ta the back yard and lock up the house so I couldn’t get back in,” Decky referred to his parents’ actions with absolutely no variation in his tone, a complete disconnect between the words he was saying and the emotions and memories that they risked provoking. As it was, in his mind there was nothing exceptionally cruel about what he was relaying, just another day in the life for him back then. He still never could refer to Alana and Benjamin Boaz as his parents when talking though, so it was always simply they or them or those people. “If I wasn’t still there when they checked in the mornin’, they’d hurt Danny, so I always just stayed where they tossed me. Raccoons can actually learn some pretty cool tricks if ya gain their trust and have food on ya.”

“Decky…” PJ whispered in disbelief. Without the heartbreaking reasoning behind it, the fact that Decky just randomly trained raccoons when he was a kid would be a really cool thing to learn about the dude, in fact PJ was sure it was just another thing that would endear her lovely twin sister to him. But what he’d just said…her sister was going to have more baggage to deal with than any of the Jones girls could have imagined. What he’d just revealed to her explained so much but also added on a book’s worth of questions that she was honestly still a bit too high strung to delve into now. Not that she thought he’d give her any answers just because she asked. His ability to speak so casually about the event, as though that was just the way parents acted, the way children were punished, was so telling of how commonplace such horrendous mistreatment likely was in the Boaz brothers’ lives before California and Beverly Hills High. She took another drag, her stomach now twisting for reasons completely unrelated to rodents.

There were a few things that Parker truly knew about Mordechai Boaz, and that was honestly only a thing or two more than most people knew about him, but it was that extra bit of insight that meant she knew he considered her a friend, if not in the inner circle the likes of Monarch, Sin, and the Gearheads. Decky Boaz transferred into BH alongside Sin Donaghue in the Spring Semester of Freshman year as an ex-gang member on probation, he has a little brother that came in as a freshman this year and had a couple more family members in the school. AJ Tyler had basically claimed him before he ever hit BH hallways and he works for the Tyler family at their garage. He’s an angry fuck, a drug addict, an incredibly dangerous fighter, and you either want to have his loyalty or not be known by him at all, as catching his ire is not something to be taken lightly. Everyone learned these things about him within the first couple weeks of his transfer.

Things she’d learned since were that he loved and protected his baby brother more than any other older sibling she knew, and that was saying something coming from her. Only a small handful of people, and that’s including from his laundry list of sexual partners, have ever seen him without a shirt, and those who have seen his bare torso are extremely tight lipped and protective on the matter. Decky bobs his head along to music without realizing, so you can tell when he’s vibing with your tunes. He sucks at comforting words but makes up for it with action, he flinches if you touch him without warning but he reacts and learns best from well-intended physical corrections, an extremely confusing and concerning dichotomy to PJ, but he assured her long ago that the shin-kicks were understood and even appreciated for keeping him in check sometimes. Just now she’d learned he suffered abuse far worse than any rumor around school could ever fathom, and survived things that even some of the more warped minds in these halls couldn’t dream up. Another thing she’d learned over all these little chats with him?

Decky hated pity, and loved dark humor.

“Dude, your life fucking sucked, no wonder you’re such an ass,” She settled on after another hit, turning away from him immediately after in order to ash out the high window, arm stretched out so she could tap it all the way outside the window and avoid the wind blowing the ash back in. She froze in her action and looked over with wide eyes as Decky threw his head back and laughed, loud and sudden like a clap of thunder, and so genuine that PJ was suddenly sure that she’d never once heard his real laugh before this moment. His smile stretched out across his teeth and exposed a dimple trying to hide in the shallow laugh lines now present on either side of his face. PJ has always been aware that Decky was considered attractive, long before her sister developed a crush on him, but in that moment, with his eyes crescents of mirth and a glint of joy shining through like pure moonlight through darkened curtains, Parker finally understood the higher potential that her sister saw in this boy wrapped in barbed wire and brass knuckles.

“Thanks,” Decky finally answered, head lolling to the side from where it was now resting against the painted brick beneath the window. He turned to face her fully and grabbed the blunt from between her still-frozen fingers, raising an eyebrow at her reaction as he wrapped his lips around the dwindling swisher wrap. “I’ve been told I need therapy. Like, a lot’a it.”

“You do, but honestly so does everyone in this place,” She replied, voice still soft from the shock of seeing him like that. “You just need extra sessions, maybe a specialist or five.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll get back ta ya when when money and time ain’t an issue,” He snarked before taking a long pull. Which, like, Parker couldn’t argue with that, so she simply gave a small smile and rolled her eyes at the gearhead. Comfortable silence stretched between the two after the conversation reached its natural conclusion, and the next couple minutes were spent playing puff puff pass in silence while both students rallied all of their thoughts and emotions from the events of homeroom. With everything finally regulating, Decky’s thoughts were returning to one very distinct memory that he couldn’t stop replaying in his head.

“Jones?”

“Yeah?”

“How come I ain’t realize before that your sister’s got this amazin’ ass- fuck!”

Dammit, he’s finally figured it out, Parker thought dispassionately from her seat on the radiator as she watched Decky crash to the ground, thrust straight down by her swift boot to the back of his thigh. As the boy groaned on the cool tile floor, PJ spared a moment of silence for the loss of that last bit of peace that she knew in her life. Jordyn, you better be ready for this idiot now that he realizes he wants you. He’s gonna be a lot of work.