[right][color=slategray][sub]Mentions: [@Silent Observer] [@Lovely Complex] {Marshall and Trixie, respectively}
Time: Noonish? on Wednesday
Featuring: [color=eda946][b]Ophelia “I guess I’ll do it Live” [s]Brycen[/s] Lyon[/b][/color] and, however briefly, [color=ff00ff][b]Belle “Was I bad?” Lyon[/b][/color]
Location: Ophelia’s room![/sub][/color][/right]
[hr][hr]
[indent][indent]Ophelia had chosen to take the day off from school, hide in her room, and nurse her wounds. She didn’t want to deal with the fallout she was sure to have. She’d betrayed her morals, betrayed her friend, put the blame of a touchy subject on the shoulders of Hailey, and gotten punched in the face. All in all? Not bad as far as Tuesdays go! If it didn’t hurt to move her face, she might have even laughed. Her mom hadn’t asked much about whether or not she could stay home, and for that, Ophelia was very grateful. She didn’t want to deal with the fallout, of all her good intentions.

What happened next was truly her own fault. Who else could she blame at this point? She’d lied about Owen cheating on Trixie, she’d lied to Trixie for a couple of months about it now… She’d seen Owen at the Lyon family dinners, and the fact Ophelia had made it through those scenes alive was nothing if not a testimony to her bravery! Telling Trixie the truth was hard though, harder than she liked to admit.

It was all dumb though, really. From the top to the bottom, the social ladder was [i]dumb[/i]. They all bled the same blood (orange and black! haha, just kidding — half the school didn’t care about sports), they were all the same on the inside, and really? They were all heading to the same place. In the end, none of this would matter. And that? That was [i]really[/i] what drove her to do what she did the night before.

#hotisdead

At least she’d made something trend (locally, not worldwide. sigh) before she dropped out of the game, right? She’d always have that to fall back on! It’d just taken a haymaker to the eye. Could she have reacted more confidently to it? Could she have deflected or gotten out the way? Honestly, probably. Trixie had been [i]sloshed[/i] when she threw the hand, but Ophelia had decided she deserved it. So, she took it to the face. Even so, the punch was nothing compared to something like facing Marshall after this. Geeze, Marshall was gonna end her life. Or at least their friendship… fug, just kill her.

And then there was Hailey, but… Ophelia felt like Hailey had given up. Like she’d grown bored of the game she’d played, and that she was instead interested in the new game she played privately with Hana. Probably for the best, since Hailey was… something when she [i]truly[/i] dedicated herself to a cause. Without her at the apex, maybe the whole ladder would suffer a collapse, and everything could revert back to the before time.

These, and more, were the thoughts flowing through Ophelia’s head as she laid on her bed and gazed up at the ceiling. Thinking things through, with a clear, less party-addled brain helped her make sense of all this. She could handle it; there was pain left to go through, but… she was strong enough. She could handle it. Besides, she had only herself to blame.

If it was different, and she could pass the blame off onto someone else, then… maybe. Maybe then, it would make sense for her to pout and hide and be afraid, but… it was all on her. If it meant most people in her life wound up happy, then Ophelia could handle being the martyr and the catalyst. She only had… what, two years left? Not even that, more like one and a half! She could handle people hating her for one and a half years. After that, she didn’t have to see them ever again so, [i]fuck it, dude.[/i]

[i]Knock, knock.[/i]

The sudden sound of someone at the door caused Ophelia to sit up. [color=eda946][i]Okay, self. This is like the fourth time Mom’s come a knockin’. You gots a plan now. Tell her you got this one! This is easy. Just a couple of ruined lifelong friendships. You're still breathing! You can do this. You’re tough. You’re strong. Besides, you already decided you’re the fuck up anyway. Fuck it. Do it live.[/i][/color]

[color=eda946][b]“Yeah, come in! It’s not locked.”[/b][/color] They didn’t really lock doors in her house; as far as she knew, none of the Lyon family really locked doors, a habit picked up from Sebastian himself. In his opinion, a closed door was a good enough deterrent for people, and if they needed to talk so badly that they’d open a door without confirmation from the occupants? Then they deserved to see whatever it was they saw.

Fortunately, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in Ophelia’s room when her mother, Belle, walked in. It was just Ophelia, laying on the bed. There was a book on the floor, opened face down. As her mother walked over to her, Belle bent down and picked the book up, [color=ff00ff][b]“Isn’t this like, your first edition or something? You should be more careful with it.”[/b][/color]

[color=eda946][b]“Okay three things. First off, I honestly feel attacked right now. I don’t need that comin’ from you too. Secondly, it’s a [i]trade[/i] paperback, mom. They don’t really have [i]editions[/i], And… thirdly, my signed copy of the Long Halloween trade is in a glass case in my showroom, surrounded by first editions of the single issues — all rated 9s and 10s of course. That’s just the one I read. Leave me alone, I like the Long Halloween. It’s a good story. More… detective-y, and I like when Bats has that feel about him. Why are we talking about comics? This isn’t about comics, is it?”[/b][/color] Ophelia immediately found herself assuming that Belle had one that on purpose. Why wouldn’t she? Get her daughter rolling on stuff she cared about, and then swing in hit her with the one two to bring up Ophelia’s social problems. Oh, Belle was good. But Ophelia was better.

[color=ff00ff][b]“Nah, kiddo. I guess it isn’t about that. How are you feeling? I heard that last night was an adventure. And, before you ask, no it wasn’t Kylie. But, I pay attention, and I [i]know[/i] things. Do you wanna talk about it?”[/b][/color] Gentle prying. Honest? Belle was still learning how to deal with a teenager. She couldn’t exactly learn from her parents. Her dad was great, but her mom had been a little… not there when she was growing up. She was around now, though, and Belle was grateful for that.

[color=eda946][b]“Ya know, typically? I do! But this time? I honestly think I got this one. Stay on deck though, yeah? Just in case things go… poorly, which like they probably will. Trixie can be a bit, uh… short fused?”[/b][/color]

[color=ff00ff][b]“That makes sense. She’s always been more like her mother than her father. Izzy? Izzy gets incredibly furious about all kinds of things. Wolfe’s… as cold as ice, though. Never understood how they wound up together, but hey. Can’t complain. If you got this, you got this. Ace it.”[/b][/color] Belle smiled and waved, considering her job as a mother done; and it was. If she couldn’t leave her child to clean up her own messes, then she sure as hell couldn’t let Ophelia out to the wild. She turned and walked out, while Ophelia grabbed her phone and pulled up Snapchat.

Flipping the camera to face her, Ophelia flipped through the filters, before deciding there was nothing that suited her needs. [color=eda946][b]“Man, I look super… anti-put together. Better fix that, or she’ll  think I’m going for the pity points.”[/b][/color] Finally, while the clocks around her struck noon, Ophelia pulled herself out of bed, and to the bathroom.

After she’d showered, washed the runny makeup (it was for the best she didn’t take the picture before the shower, she looked like a bad episode of Casting Couch) off her face, and fixed the matted hair on her face… Ophelia was as ready as ever. With a towel wrapped tightly around her, covering her chest and other bits she was pretty sure Trixie didn’t wanna see, well, at least not right that second… Oof, did Ophelia just catch herself winking in the mirror?

As good a sign as any that she felt better.

With a single index finger, she reached out and drew a heart around her face in the steamy mirror. With that done, she held her phone up (mirror selfie… maybe she [i]should[/i] drop the towel? ...nah, Trix would just be pissy. next time, baby), she puffed her cheeks out like a squirrel, and made her eyes as big as he could, then snapped the photo.

Should have used a filter, whatever.

She scrolled for a moment ofind Trixie’s custom name, and tapped it...

[center][b]To: [color=15603a]Trixalicious[/color]
[color=eda946]can we talk? ur call, i get it if u dont wanna[/color][/b][/center]

Boom.

Ophelia hit the button, and sent off a Snap that she assumed would never be opened.

And, one more… This time, Ophelia covered the fucked up spot on her face from Trixie’s fist, and sent another snap; this time with a neutral face.

[center][b]To: [color=997fdb]Gumdrop[/color]
[color=eda946]sorry[/color][/b][/center]

There.

Now, may God have mercy on her soul.[/indent][/indent]