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[color=slategray][sub]A [color=0598bc][b]Brian Helmsley[/b][/color] story
Mentions: A text to [color=DDA0DD][b]Bailee Helmsley[/b][/color] [@melissahart] and [color=bd3f6e][b]Becca Helmsley[/b][/color] [@smarty0114], a text to [color=c66600][b]Trevor Wells[/b][/color] [@Silent Observer], and a text to [color=426f6f][b]Riley Wells[/b][/color] [@Lovely Complex]
Location: Brian’s private jet —> the Helmsley three’s meeting room[/sub][/color][/center][hr][hr][indent]How many sixteen year olds received private jets when they turned seventeen? Not many, but the Helmsley three had each been gifted one, and Brian Helmsley was sitting in his now, silently mulling over his plan. He had roughly… twelve percent of a plan. Really, he preferred not to get involved; Brian was well aware of his place in the social realm of the school, but he didn’t like to publicly play the game. Whoever wrote the Weekend Warrior, though, had crossed the line. Henry was supposed to act as a buffer, but that had apparently failed.

So now, Brian would have to get involved. He looked down at the piece of paper he’d been writing notes on. He had been in touch with Damian before Damian had explained he was shutting his phone off so his mother didn’t bother him, and Brian thought he had most of the story. He’d also printed off a copy of the Weekend Warrior, underlining the parts that mattered most to him.

He had now, perhaps fifteen percent of a plan.

Leaning back in the comfortable chair he sat in, Brian tapped his pen to his lips. All this, for her. He could have stayed in Sweden, where he was safe and free from this nonsense. He could live anywhere on the planet, and do anything he wanted; but before he could do any of that, the crown prince of the Helmsley family had work to do. Brian didn’t care about the bits involving Hailey and her crew; though he’d saved the video of the Owen and Marshall confrontation.

[color=0598bc][i]Owen, what are you doing?[/i][/color] The last that Brian had checked, Owen and Marshall were best friends. Owen, for all intents and purposes, seemed to have lost his fucking mind. Brian would have to talk to him when he got a chance, but first he had things to handle.

Apparently, the Weekend Warrior had led to Damian getting kicked off of the team. Without the captain at its helm, Brian saw no point in maintaining his star position on the team. No one else would be able to lead them to victory, and besides; Brian stood with his captain. He had texted the coach, and had not received a reply. The text had been simple, and straightforward, expressing Brian’s resignation from the group. He assumed he was not receiving a reply because the coach was angry.

It would be dealt with in time.

After that, Brian had sent out two more text messages. One, went to his group chat with Trevor and Damian:

[quote][b]To:[/b] [color=0598bc][b]My[/b][/color] [color=309b75][b]Golden[/b][/color] [color=C66600][b]Lovers[/b][/color]
[color=0598bc][b]I heard about Damian getting kicked off. I’ve already texted the coach; I’ll be quitting too.[/b][/color][/quote]

And one went to Riley Wells, whose number he had to pull off the school’s website:

[quote][b]To:[/b] [color=426f6f][b]Riley Wells[/b][/color]
[color=0598bc][b]I’ll be joining you as one of your cohosts! Have some plans for Tuesday’s episode. Will discuss later tonight! Call me by 10:30 tonight, thanks!
B[/b][/color][/quote]

The third Helmsley needed a platform to help propel himself into the student eye, and besides: this was part of his plan. He’d take control for one show, and then Riley could go back to his regularly scheduled programming. Brian Helmsley would be center stage alongside his sisters soon, it was unfortunately necessary in order for him to right the wrong.

Brian scribbled out the note on his paper indicating that he had fifteen percent out of a plan, and replaced it with a sixty-seven. He had some ideas floating around now, and things were starting to formulate in his head. [color=0598bc][b]“Anastasia? Do me a favor, and text Mother and Father. See if the Destiny is available tomorrow evening. And tell them if it isn’t, to make it available.”[/b][/color] Brian said to his assistant, referring to the superyacht owned by his family.

[color=e212ca][b]“Oh? May I ask what for?”[/b][/color] The Assistant replied, in a voice with a light Irish accent, and Brian nodded.

[color=0598bc][b]“It’s all part of the plan, Anastasia. Don’t worry. The Weekend Warrior, and — from what Damian has told me — Hailey, have stepped out of line in the absence of myself and my sisters. The Weekend Warrior especially has attacked someone I care about quite a bit.”[/b][/color]

[color=e212ca][b]“Have they now? And what are you gonna do about it?”[/b][/color]

Brian looked down at the wrist of his dress shirt, absently fiddling with the cufflink. [color=0598bc][b]“I’m going to make them regret it.”[/b][/color]

[color=e212ca][b]“Devilish. You sound just like your father! I approve. We’ll be touching down soon.”[/b][/color]

Brian nodded and looked down at the paper, scratching out the sixty-seven, and replacing it with an eighty-eight percent. There was only one step left.

Once the plane touched down, and Brian was back in the comfort of his own home, he went to the conference room he and his twins had secured for their own purposes, years ago. Once a place where business of great importance that influenced the world as a whole was conducted, it now served as a place for the Helmsley three to meet and conduct business of far greater importance that led to the way the social life of their peers functioned.

Brian pulled out his phone and texted his sisters.

[quote][b]To:[/b] [color=bd3f6e][b]Twin 1[/b][/color] [color=DDA0DD][b]Twin 2[/b][/color]
[color=0598bc][b]Meeting.[/b][/color][/quote]

He picked up his pen, and reached down, scribbling out the eighty-eight. He replaced it with a one hundred percent, and circled it.[/indent]