[hr][hr][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180707/1d50f363a36c7e98c93b5def3b819485.png[/img] [img]https://data.whicdn.com/images/308899130/original.gif[/img] [color=35996B]So now we're dancing through the garden And what a garden I have made And now that death will grow my jasmine I find it soothing I'm afraid[/color][/center][hr][hr] The night before Archer’s senior year starting at King’s Academy just happened to coincide with his brother Warren leaving for Harvard, so of course the Didriksons had to have a going away dinner for their golden angel of a son. As an act of kindness Warren had given his family gifts, even Archer. Sceptical Archer reached for the cylindrical parcel his brother had tossed in front of him, with narrowed eyes he carefully ripped the tape that covered the top. Just as he got the top open he could feel a gust of air and something hitting him in the face. When he opened his eyes he was covered in pink glitter and a note had fallen in to his lap, his eyes shot up angrily at his brother who could barely contain a fit of laughter. Archer unfurled the rolled up note, on it a single sentence: [b]“See you at thanksgiving, fruitcake!”[/b] Archer looked up at his parents, his father with his forehead resting in one hand and his mother frowning at Warren. Archer stood up quickly and stomped of towards his room leaving a trail of glitter after him. [color=35996B]“Go eat a dick Warren!”[/color] He screamed as he slammed the door to his room shut shaking with anger. He tried brushing the glitter of but it stuck to him no matter how hard he tried, glitter really was the herpes of crafting. Archer looked at himself in the mirror he had beside his closet, the glitter had settled in to his thick hair. That would take like a month to get out. He could hear his mother scolding his brother downstairs, Archer let out a big sigh as he retrieved a pack of cigarettes he kept in a drawer beside his bed. He sat down in the large bay window at the far end of his room and opened one of the windows wide. As he took a long drag of his cigarette he could feel the calm rush over him and the anger ebb away. Staring out at the manmade lake that his house had in his backyard, he wondered how his last year would pan out. He took out his phone and opened up his [i]Misfits[/i] group chat, he thought about telling them about what had happened but changed his mind. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Sonny’s bullshit and Marisol would just send over her brother to punch Warren in the face, which would be satisfying but not really helpful in this situation. He decided to tell Marisol in the morning when he saw her at school, and the others needn’t know this ever happened as far as they would know the glitter in his hair was just a fashion statement. After a quick shower where he furiously scrubbed his scalp to get most of the glitter out of his hair, he laid down in his bed and fell asleep. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/UmLPAXf.png[/img][/center] In the morning, Archer stayed in bed and listened for when his father left for work before he threw his cover of and started to get ready. Putting on his King’s uniform felt almost claustrophobic, Archer made a face as he straightened his tie in the mirror. He shrugged and grabbed his book bag as he made his way downstairs. In the kitchen his mother Jessica sat with a cup of coffee, when she saw Archer walk in she gave him a worried look and started to say something. He put up a hand to stop her “No don’t… I’m fine” he said sitting down across from her. Jessica grabbed her son’s hands and gazed at him “Your brother… he says he’s sorry….” she started, Archer rolled his eyes “No he really is, he’s just processing all of this in his own way.” She continued. Archer snatched his hands back and stood up [color=35996B]“I’m going to be late for school”[/color] he said and grabbed his keys of the table. His mother called something after him but Archer was just over the whole conversation. He closed the door to the garage and rested his head on it for a second before turning around and facing the now nearly empty garage now that both his father and brothers cars were gone, left was his mother's BMW and his rusty blue Saab, it was a hunk of junk but he had at least bought it with his own money so it was really all his. Getting in to his car was easier said than done, he first needed to rearrange the jumble of trash that littered the front seats to fit his book bag and himself. It was a array of various books, old take out bags from the surf shack and a few notepads filled with scribbles and texts, this was done by just piling it all in the backseat. Archer made a mental note to clean it out after school as he turned the key to start the engine, it took a few false starts before [i]“the blue devil”[/i] started and he could finally back out of his garage. The drive towards school was uneventful and boring as always, usually he would pick Marisol up on the way but seeing as it was the first day of school Mr. Castillo probably had something grand for his daughter and Archer didn’t want to disrupt that tear-fest. So instead of taking the exit towards his best friends house he kept course for King’s Academy, all the while listening to one of his favorite new artists and drumming on his steering wheel. Archer had manages to score a good parking space in the senior lot, close enough so he didn’t have to walk that far to get to the school gates but far enough so [i]some[/i] people wouldn’t give him crap for sitting in his car smoking. He disconnected his phone from his aux cord and wrote a quick text to his ride or die: [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/GqyygLA.png[/img][/center] He put his phone in his pocket and rummaged around in his bookbag for his pack of cigarettes, when he finally found them he rolled down his window and lit one. The first cigarette of the day was Archer’s favorite thing in this world, he leaned back and closed his eyes. The day had yet to start and he could already feel a headache linger in his forehead. He decided it would be better to get some fresh air before he had to enter the gates of hell so he got out of his car, as he got out he saw the familiar broad tall frame of Johnny Baxter, with his long legs, nice strong shoulders muscular arms, big hands that was holding a phone that was filming and Archer could see his own face in it and he was staring. [color=35996B]“Oh shit!”[/color] Archer yelped and ducked down behind his car door, praying Johnny hadn’t seen him staring at him.