[hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/JkPtF9c.png[/img][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjEwNi4zMmNkMzIuS2xZcVNTcERLa3NxV1NvLC4w/novox-varsity.regular.webp[/img][/center] [right][b]Interactions:[/b] Tuyen [@Fernstone] [code]Warehouse[/code][/right][hr] Vicky plucked the tissue from Tuyen’s hand, freeing her poor friend from her clutches as she dabbed at her eyes. Vicky was still sniffling, but Tuyen’s reassurance that she knew that Vicky didn’t like Tyler like [i]that[/i] had prevented the full nuclear meltdown. Tuyen was right. Tuyen was so right. Vicky didn’t deserve to be forced to break up with her boyfriend so that she wasn’t the loser who got dumped at the party, but frankly, she was better off for it. Damn right Chef was lucky to be with her. He was a total loser—a college student, dating a high schooler, getting [i]dumped[/i] by that high schooler? Oof! What. A. Dweeb. She was better off, she was, she was, it was definitely better to not be in a relationship with such a loser. Even if that loser was going to one day win a Heisman Trophy. Even if it meant not going to college parties. Even if it meant she had nobody to take her to Homecoming. Even if it meant being single. Only if she was single it meant she was a Gwen. She didn’t want to be a Gwen. She wanted to be a Vicky, and a Vicky was always with someone cool! [color=9777bd]”I know it’s not the same as having him there, but I’ll stay with you the rest of the party. I won’t leave your side, I promise,”[/color] said Tuyen as Vicky’s face darkened as reality began to reveal itself to her. [color=32cd32]“No it’s not the same,”[/color] said Vicky, letting Tuyen cook for a few moments under the bright light blues of a staredown before breaking out into a big smile and trapping Tuyen in a tight hug. Tuyen was cool. Therefore, technically, it counted. [color=32cd32]“It’s better! Tuyen! You’re just the best. I knew I kept you around for a reason.”[/color] Seriously, what an asset to the team. Thoughtful, kind, caring, knew that Vicky wanted Tyler to come down with some horrible disease so rare the doctors would eventually name it Fox’s Syndrome. Bonus points for dressing down so Vicky could feel like the hot one, even if she wasn’t feeling so hot right now, in fact, she was feeling kinda sick, and it wasn’t the typical kind of sick she felt when Vicky looked at Tuyen, saw how skinny the girl was, and knew that she could never achieve that trim of a waistline. Still, it made Vicky want to throw up. Oh, no, wait! She was actually going to, oh god, she was totally gonna—it passed, okay, coast clear. Probably just a case of the sixty-second suddenly single sickness, brought upon by the realization that because of this breakup Vicky was going to die alone and not be found until half of her body was devoured by her seventeen cats after her neighbors complained about the smell. Vicky stared with dead eyes straight ahead at the vulgar graffiti covering the rusted door of the stall, thinking that perhaps if she looked long enough something between the blocky tags and dirty doodles would reveal to her the secret of how to turn her brain off. Unfortunately, if there was any wisdom to be found she couldn’t uncover it. Instead she pulled away from Tuyen with a shudder, making a mental note to never get any kind of pets. She tucked the tissue to be forgotten inside of Chef’s jacket, trading it for a tube of sparkly lip gloss as she turned her back to Tuyen and moved to the mirror. [color=32cd32]“I am so done with all the stupid boys in this town. They are all such [i]lo-[/i]sers,”[/color] said Vicky. She started to shimmy out of the massive jacket, struggling a bit with the concept that to get it off she would have to remove both her arms from the sleeve first. [color=32cd32]“I didn’t even really like Chef. He was always so suspicious, texting me, asking me ‘what are you up to’. It was so annoying!”[/color] Vicky kicked the jacket away with her heels as it dropped to the floor to reveal not much, at least in terms of the amount of fabric—a sleeveless crop top and a snug skirt that completely failed the school’s fingertip rule. She leaned forward as she began to run the gloss over her lips, analyzing every single fault in her face as she continued to transform her tears into steam as she vented. [color=32cd32]“You know what the worst thing was? He would call me,”[/color] said Vicky with a smack of her lips as she capped the gloss and began to fluff up her hair, immediately undoing anything she had been going for as she wildly shook her head in exasperation. [color=32cd32]“Like, on the phone. And just to talk, too! Seriously, what the fuck!? Here I am, having a panic attack, thinking he’s in the hospital or jail or something, and he just wants to hear my voice. It was *so* stupid! And he did it all the time, all the time! Sometimes twice in one week. It was obnoxious! I hate people who talk too much.”[/color] And with no time to acknowledge the hypocrisy, she continued her rant. [color=32cd32]“Ick, and the way he kissed? It was like making out with, Jesus, how can I even begin to describe something so awful?” [/color] Vicky turned from the mirror back to Tuyen, gesturing with the tube of lip gloss. [color=32cd32]“Well, remember Gwen made us go to the Slappyburger because she said her ex could hook us up with his employee discount and not only did we have to pay full price but your chicken fingers were raw on the inside? Imagine that mouthfeel but worse.”[/color] The worse was illustrated as Vicky made a thrusting and thrashing motion with the lip gloss tube, creating a visual representation that Tuyen had not asked for and that nobody needed to see. [color=32cd32]“Here, hold this. I don’t have pockets.”[/color] Vicky lobbed the lipgloss at Tuyen before looking back at the mirror. [color=32cd32]“Is it obvious that I was crying?”[/color] asked Vicky, looking back at Tuyen. [color=32cd32]“It’s obvious that I was crying. Oh, I know!”[/color] Vicky looped her arm under Tuyen’s and pulled her towards the bathroom door. [color=32cd32]“Let’s find Kersten.”[/color] If Vicky smelled like weed, then nobody would know that her eyes were red and puffy before she’d gotten high. Could a drunk person think of such a brilliant idea as that? Absolutely freaking not! Which meant that they should also get a couple of drinks along the way. Vicky barely stumbled as she guided Tuyen towards the door, leaning just a bit on her friend for both moral support and actual, regular old support too, but just because of the heels being kind of hard to walk in and not for any other reasons. [color=32cd32]“I just got broken up with, so you’re getting high with me. And none of that shit like last time where you put the thing to your mouth and pretended to smoke it. Oh, what, didn’t think I’d notice? People might tell you everything, but I see all, I know all. Nothing slips by me,”[/color] teased Vicky in a way that kind of sounded like she possibly believed it. She actually felt better. Tuyen was such a good listener. Vicky threw the door open with gusto, ready to grace all the worried people with her presence, certain that there would be a sea of sad faces waiting for her, the crowd absolutely devastated because Cornell’s cutest couple was kaputt, and wait, these assholes kept partying without her? What the hell? Seriously!? God, she really liked everyone here, obviously she had to, and they definitely, totally, fucking better have liked her too (or else), but sometimes, [i]sometimes, [b]SOMETIMES[/b][/i] they really made Vicky so mad that she wished each and every single one of them (minus Tuyen) would die a horrible, painful, and truly awful death.