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[img]https://i.imgur.com/jsobdZH.gif[/img][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/607ad379ff78d54569a981dcf083d91b/tumblr_inline_of0901s9XC1qlt39u_250.gif[/img]
[i][sub]A Collaboration Featuring: [@Bee] and [@Bee]
Featuring: [b][color=ed1c24]Yung Steve, the Greatest Writer of All Time[/color][/b] & [b][color=pink]Allison Bentley, the Greatest Freshie Proofreader Ever[/color][/b][/sub][/i][hr][hr]
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Yung Steve was enjoying this game of catch with his boy Justin. He had yet to actually catch a ball, even after all of this time which hadn't phased the extraordinarily talented rapper. It was the cold, he swore. The cold did funny things to your hands, which was definitely why they weren't working. Doesn't matter though, at least he had something to do here other than drink and listen to some not-so-good tunes. Yung Steve fucked with these people right now.

Or so he thought. Yung Steve's phone vibrated in his pocket, which he ignored at first. Yung Steve didn't bow to nobody. Then it rang again, the vibrating annoying him more each time. With the third occurrence, Yung Steve just couldn't take it anymore. When Justin was about to throw the ball again, he pulled his cell phone out and looked at whoever was calling him. Maybe it was someone who had scouted him and wanted to sign him to a record deal? Maybe it was Yeezy himself? It was none of those. As a matter of fact, it was Allison Bentley, the freshman who had generously and graciously volunteered to help him proofread his English paper about "The Great Gatsby". 

Pressing the green button on his phone, he put his phone up to his ear, not realizing the ball had sailed over his head and into a nearby bench. Yung Steve took a seat near a girl who was apparently able to breathe out vanilla. He waved the cloud of vapor away from his nose as the line connected.

[color=ed1c24][b]"Yung Steve here. What can I do for you tonight?"[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"Steve! I just finished proofreading yo-"[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"Yung Steve."[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"...right. Anyway, I finished proofreading it... and I had a few questions about what you wrote in this paper. Are you free right now? It sounds like you're kinda busy."[/b][/color] 

Allison had been spending the night closed off in her room proofreading [i]Yung[/i] Steve's paper for him after he offered to pay her $250 (and another $100 if he got an A) to do so. The paper, to simply put it, was an absolute nightmare. The grammar was so-so, syntax was alright, and it flowed alright. The content was what was the big issue, as well as his severe lack of academic language. Some of this analysis was straight up [i]wrong[/i] and didn't make any sense. In some cases, it even contained some pretty fatal logical fallacies. Needless to say, Allison wasn't going to be getting that $100 if Yung Steve turned it in as it was right now.

Usually, Allison wouldn't have done something like this, especially for someone like Yung Steve. However, she had an adderall supply she needed to replenish. 

[color=ed1c24][b]"I am now. What's up Rolls Royce?"[/b][/color]

Allison scoffed as he called her by the wrong automobile maker. It wasn't the wisest idea to bite the hand that fed you, Yung Steve. But at the same time, she couldn't bite his hand either. Allison swallowed her pride and scrolled up to the very top of the essay. His thesis statement was the very root of his issues. Might as well have tackled it from the ground up. 

[color=pink][b]"Okay, Yung Steve... not every girl was trying to 'get into Gatsby's pants'."[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"You kidding me? Dude, Daisy was tryna fuck Gatsby the whole time! Why else did she come to those parties and shit? The boy Gatsby had so much money, I'd fuck him too."[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"It's the other way around, Yung Steve. Gatsby was throwing these parties just to attract Daisy."[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"Really? So you telling me my girl Daisy Buchanan is a gold digging ho?"[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"...no."[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"What the fuck? So then are you telling me that Gatsby is some creep trying to get into Daisy's panties instead? I thought Gatsby was a baller... but that sounds like some lowlife shit. Like some stuff you'd see some dudes at school trying to do. [i]Stay away from the docks, Allison. You'll get caught on a ship if you're around too much.[/i]"[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"...yeah. Did you even read the book, dude...? Wait, do we even have docks? Where are the docks, dude? What do you mean by get caught on a ship? Y'know what... nevermind."[/b][/color]

Truth be told, Yung Steve hadn't touched the book once outside of class. He got all of his information from in-class readings of the book, which he zoned out in for the most part. It explained his bizarre interpretation of Gatsby's relationship. However, he really liked Gatsby as a character. He considered him a goal for him to reach. Why wouldn't you want to be so rich that you had the money to throw extravagant parties on a constant basis? Gatsby had it great. 

They say they teach history so that it isn't repeated. To Yung Steve, that meant that he was going to strive to be Gastby, but instead of focusing his efforts on one girl... he was going to use his money for all the bitches. Yung Steve wasn't gonna be tied down. He wanted to live life large.

[color=ed1c24][b]"Yeah, of course I did! Okay so Gatsby's trying to get at Daisy instead. But wait, what about that girl Jordan? Isn't she with Gatsby already? I swear I read in the book that he was talking to that Jordan girl. She sounds hot."[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"Steve! No! Jordan is with the narrator, who isn't Gatsby!"[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"Hey. You put some respect on the Yung Steve. Why would they even make a book called 'The Great Gatsby' if the main character isn't even Gatsby?"[/b][/color]

An audible groan of frustration could be heard from Allison.

[color=pink][b]"Okay. How about this? How about we cut your thesis down and just talk about Daisy and Gatsby. Simple enough? It'll give your essay a lot more direction and make it a lot more concise. There's a lot of fluff in here that I'd like to take out."[/b][/color]

Yung Steve thought momentarily, as he watched a [i]fiiiiiiiiiiineeeee[/i] thicc girl walk out of the dance floor and disappear upstairs. Damn, what he wouldn't give for a few minutes with a girl like her. But he had bigger and better priorities at the moment.

[color=ed1c24][b]"There's some fluff I'd also like to take out as well... Wait what? Uh... okay... fine. Poor Gatsby though. His hustle isn't getting recognized. Game gotta recognize game, you feel? We're doing him dirty."[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"Y'know Gatsby isn't real right? And even then... he's [i]dead[/i]."[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"Yeah... and the Great Depression didn't happen. Don't get ahead of yourself, Maybach."[/b][/color]

Ignoring what he just said, Allison edited Yung Steve's thesis statement down to something that flowed better and fit the subject matter at hand. Hopefully this would be AT LEAST C material with the new thesis. There was still a long way to go, but Yung Steve's use was dwindling very quickly. It was clear that he wasn't exactly in the best state of mind.

But then again... when was he ever?

[color=pink][b]"I got it edited. Now I just need to clarify a couple of things before I let you go."[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"Shoot."[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"So in one of your paragraphs... what exactly did you mean when you said 'Gatsby's using his money to flex on these people' and... 'Bitches don't got loyalty to nothing besides money'?"[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"I mean exactly what I said, Allison. Am I wrong, though? Look at Myrtle! She's piping that Tom dude while having her eye on Gatsby as well."[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"I'm just gonna change this here..."[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"Yo! Don't ruin my art! I worked hard on that."[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"If you insist, Yung Steve. Now I just have one more thing to ask you.[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"Wha?"[/b][/color]

[color=pink][b]"You [i]really[/i] sure you wanna leave 'Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks' in your conclusion? I don't know if your teacher would like that."[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"Yes, of course I want to leave it in! This isn't some stupid little thing thing I typed up in forty five minutes to post on the internet on some lame hobby forum whose owner hasn't been around in decades. It's a [i]work of art.[/i] I mean every single word I say in it. Leave it in, Allison."[/b][/color]	

[color=pink][b]"Okay, Steve, if you say so. I think that's all I got for you right now. I'll go back to editing. You have fun wherever you are!"[/b][/color]

[color=ed1c24][b]"And you have fun editing! Thanks a ton, Allison. I'll catch ya later."[/b][/color]

As the call ended, Yung Steve put his phone back in his pocket and looked around for Justin, who was apparently nowhere to be seen. Oh well. Guess someone else wanted a piece of him. Fine with Yung Steve. He might as well have done some exploring of the boat. It was kinda nice out here, actually. Maybe Yung Steve could find some more fans. He had yet to find one tonight, but hopefully that would change soon. He stood up and started to walk around. Walking toward the stairs, Yung Steve suddenly saw a girl covered in a towel dart down the stairs and into the dance floor as if she was looking for something, followed by another scantily clad girl, a couple dudes, and yet another girl. Odd, but Yung Steve paid no mind to them. They looked busy, anyway. It did also give Yung Steve a chance to check out a couple of the girls. The toweled girl definitely had a nice butt, and the other blonde wasn't so bad either. After they disappeared into the dance floor, Yung Steve continued up the stairs, where he could feel the beats through his shoes as he overlooked the pacific ocean.

If only he was able to convince the DJ to play one of his bangers. That would've gotten the club riled up for sure. Last he saw, though, the DJ was MIA, which was unfortunate for Yung Steve's endeavors.

Oh well. Better luck next time.