[IC] BHHS: Limitless

[NeoAJ]

_{TIMESTAMP: A little before & during Homeroom/Morning Show}

_{@NeoAJ & @LovelyComplex}
____________________________________________________________________

A huge sigh left Indy Adams’ lips as the trudge through the parking lot concluded. The small skirt was riding up a little higher than she was used to, and the wind off the Pacific was coming in just enough to make her worried about flashing the degens in the skate park. It was a small price to pay for her blushes being spared. The shorts that offended the sensibilities of the Queen Bee now rested in her backpack, only for a moment before they would be quickly dispatched to her locker for the crime of not matching the theme of the day.

After a briefing in Naomi’s sedan, the Hive eventually spread out to take care of their various dealings. Naomi and Lottie were in one homeroom, while the other three members shared the pleasure of having Miss Belmonte start their day with attendance. Levi had his own priorities and had left to take care of them. This left the two newest members of the Hive, and arguably the two with the least say on the proceedings of the clique, to walk towards Room 105 together.

It was a long trek for Indy. She was still thinking about what actually happened in the backseat of that Benz. She saw more of Evangely Vazquez’s leg than she ever dared to think she would today. Even the times when the Hive hit the pool, Angel was sporting a far more modest swimsuit that didn’t offer that much of a view. Indy’s coverup showed more skin, at least in her thoughts. That image was going to sustain the blonde for a while. The incident was far less explicit than the tales told by rappers of their various conquests in assorted Mercedes’ backseats, but it was still something that weighed on her mind.

“Thank you, again,” she finally offered to Angel as the two inched closer toward homeroom. “I should have just grabbed one of the skirts I had instead of trying to make the denim work. I’ll get this back to you at the end of the day.”

Evangely bit the inside of her cheek as they walked together, side by side. Their differences were laughable really. Indy could touch the top of a doorway frame and Angel could hide in a locker. Indy was fair and kind, Angel was dark and broody. Indy was approachable and optimistic, Angel was neither. Nothing about them was similar and yet out of the group, Indy was the one Angel felt the most herself around (well, if we’re not including her discord friends she games with). Indy was authentic, natural, and completely herself. Sure, Naomi, Levi and Lottie did their best to dress them but that never changed how Indy thought or behaved. That never changed who Nicola Adams was as a person, and that to Angel was admirable. The school hadn’t consumed her yet. She wasn’t an actor. She was simply a girl trying to survive her last year of high school.

Looking around them, Angel observed their surroundings, with no emotion written on her face. She locked eyes with a freshman girl, a brunette, whose hair was in a French braid. She watched them in awe. When she went to wave at them, her outfit screaming pink and Sanrio, her shy, mousey friend grabbed her hand and brought it down, avoiding eye contact with the two popular girls. She whispered something in her friend’s ear and the girls scurried off. Out of sight, out of mind. Being part of the Hive wasn’t a good thing. Those that admire you just did and said what they thought you wanted. In this incident, one freshman didn’t want to be in the Hive’s orbit and the other freshman didn’t know better. The reality of the situation was all the bees under Naomi Davis were feared because she was feared.

No one really knew any of them and prior to Angel joining the circle, people just thought she was a walking crucifix. People never wanted to know her. The only friends she had were those she met online. Then the day came when she caught Levi in a sweet, wholesome scenario. He got embarrassed when he got caught working at the local children’s home. He didn’t like that someone from his class was now working side-by-side with him as a youth mentor. It was weird that he didn’t want people to know he did charitable work and that he cared about children but she wasn’t going to make a fuss out of it. He wasn’t the only one with secrets. And she wasn’t going to lie and say she didn’t hate the fact that her club had more than just her and a couple of quiet kids.

With Levi, Indy, and Tate in Faith Forward, maybe she would gain enough traction to shift its purpose to something more meaningful to her. She didn’t give up on it because there were students that actually looked up to her and ate up every word she said. If she wanted to, she could have her own little cult of lonely, desperate and lost students who just wanted to sit in a circle and talk about their struggles, hoping Jesus could absolve their sins or at least make life easier. She didn’t hate the empowering part of religion but whether her club was aware of it or not Angel was providing them resources and tools of the secular and the sacred, giving them philosophy and food for thought, so they could come to their own decision of what they wanted to believe or not. She didn’t hate religion, it gave most people a reason to live. She hated how people used it as a weapon. Originally, creating Faith Forward was for her parents’ sake, to show she is actively making an impression on her school and spreading the word to her peers, but it's turned into a fellowship that meets weekly to provide comfort and guidance to those that need it. In a way, Angel designed the club to feel like an AA meeting but for teenage struggles and family trauma. No one would know that though unless they attended a meeting. Whatever is said in Faith Forward, stays in Faith Forward.

“No need to thank me, I was an asshole,” Angel brusquely spoke, turning her head to look up at the girl beside her, fixing her gaze with the blonde’s serene stare. Something about the way Indy looked at her, the soul and color residing in her eyes, reminded Angel of the radiating brown sun, circled by rings of gold, in a clear autumn sky. “I liked what you were wearing,” She admitted. “It looked good.” That same dark, mysterious gaze that pierced the veil with a simple look trailed down Indy’s lithe form and stopped at her skirt. “But yeah, my skirt does look good on you,” she complimented, her usual sarcastic, cold and monotone voice now had a hint of playfulness, even if it was not easy to discern. “You’re welcome.” A tiny smile appeared on her face before she turned her attention to their walk, covered her mouth and yawned.

Was that… was that joy? Happiness? Something indicating a positive emotion present on the face of her friend? It appeared for only a second but it could have lived in Indy’s head for 1,000 years. Those rare moments when a pleasant visage was allowed to emerge, something that no one really got to see. For some reason, Indy was able to.

Maybe that was what attracted Indy to Angel in the first place? It didn’t make a lot of sense. For someone who had just been tuned into this burgeoning side of her sexuality a couple of months earlier in Sydney, identifying the head of the religious group inside the school as her potential target of affection seemed like a surefire way to not only undo the work that Kai had done on Bondi Beach, but also quash any chance she had of exploring those feelings any further.

That glimpse into those eyes though, dark brown windows into a soul that was set on one solemn path but dared to toe the line towards the woods. A face that glowed with the warmth of the sand on a picture-perfect summer day. And that smile, that perfect little smile, caught only for that brief second. Managing to burn through whatever walls were put in front of it for a cameo appearance. It had to be swiftly contained, its power was too great. When it escaped though, it was amazing.

It’s why Indy put herself in such positions to try and coax that smile out as much as possible. She was never a religious person. Her travels around the world left her convinced that no one religion had all the answers to the mysteries of the universe, and those that claimed they did were lying to make a quick buck for some corrupt asshole at the front of it. She had some ideas, but no pure belief. Joining Angel’s Faith Forward group was a massive leap of faith in that regard, putting herself at the mercy of Catholic dogma just for a shot at potential mental debauchery. She joined shortly after she arrived at BHHS, but when she attended, it didn’t have the feel of one of those sidewalk sermons where some wannabe preacher tries to convince you his path was the way of righteousness. It was more like a chance to vent, to discuss problems other people were having. In a way, it did make Indy feel blessed that her major problem was that she didn’t really know anybody. Well, aside from the other problem of not knowing if she was going to explore her other dating options or not. Angel answered a lot of the questions regarding that without even saying a word.

Apparently, her performance in Faith Forward along with her status as a varsity athlete was enough to put her on the radar of Naomi Davis. She didn’t know if it was Levi or Angel herself that fed the word to the Queen Bee, but to be a part of Angel’s circle outside of school in addition to inside? It was an offer that the surfer girl couldn’t refuse. Even if it meant enduring the verbal lashings like the one she took in the car today. Even if it meant she was, dare she say, a feared presence in the student body. While she could see the stares gaze downward and hear the hushed whispers on the side, it didn’t matter to Indy. It was worth it to have Angel stand by her, much like she did today. A true moment of practicing what you preach, sharing your possessions for the betterment of your fellow humans.

Plus for all the warning signs that told her there was no way a pious child like Angel Vazquez could ever be convinced to give in to the temptation of the fairer sex, stripping down in the back seat the way she did told Indy that there were always openings into that reality.

The fact that Angel called herself an asshole was another. That was not the language you heard in the mosques of Istanbul, the shrines of Kobe, or the chapels of Clearwater. Certainly outside the chapels of Clearwater.

The blush on Indy’s face was starting to spread a little bit as Angel spoke. She had a blunt way of talking that led to a little bit of difficulty telling when she was being sarcastic or not. That admission had no scent of sarcasm in it though. It was truth. Angel felt bad, and she actually liked the outfit. Indy demurred a little bit and brushed the side of her bangs behind her ear, showing off the faux-ruby stud that sat in the lobe. “Thank you,” she finally answered. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned since I moved here, it’s that I need to work with what I got, and my legs are my best feature. At least, according to Levi and Naomi. And your skirt is definitely helping with that.”

She paused for a second before sighing. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do for Homecoming though. I know it’s a big deal, but… I’ve never been big on the whole… dressing up kind of thing. I’m not a gown girl. Shoot, I’d rather just show up like this. I know Naomi would crucify me if I did that though.” She thought for a second about that imagery. “I mean, not literally, of course! But… still. A new dress is definitely going to eat into that car fund.” What little free time Indy had she did make available as a tutor, for a price of course, and she was hoping to get a car at some point before the “winter” came, but she didn’t feel like she was getting any closer to her own set of capable wheels and the ability to sit in the front seat on the ride to school for a change. Passing the license test already ate into those funds. The university money was coming into the family now, and her parents were coy on the subject of giving her some money for a car, but Indy wanted to earn her ride on her own terms. It was a joke that her nickname was short for Independent, or that she could send volleyballs flying at you that looked as imposing as the boulder that chased down Dr. Jones, rather than the South African slant on her initials. She never really felt it though until Bondi Beach. She wanted to spread her wings and figure things out in California. Who better to help with that than an Angel?

“I just want to be able to go to the beach again under my own power, and a fancy dress does not survive contact with the sands and the surf very often.”

“Who said it has to be a dress?” Angel countered, already pulling out her phone from the front pouch of her backpack and entering The Mermaid’s Closet in her search engine. Strolling onward, she explained, “Tomorrow they want us to dress like we’re invited to the red carpet but there isn’t anywhere that says it has to be a dress, nor will these drunk, rich kids know if it is out of season unless you’re the Triple Crown girls and who cares what they think.” The pretentious, privileged and pompous princesses that thought they were better than everyone else because their parents’ had a black card might have the looks and the name brands on the outside but they were completely shallow and empty on the inside. “One thing I’ve learned quickly with the crew is you wear the outfit, not the other way around.”

Deciding homeroom wasn’t worth rushing to, Angel gestured for Indy to follow her to the side, so that she didn’t have to walk and look at her phone, risking crashing into someone. Once she led them to a wall, she leaned up against it, and followed the pathway to the ‘sales’ section. She filtered colors and articles of clothing until she found something she thought would look phenomenal on her friend. Blue was definitely her color. “The Mermaid’s Closet closes at nine so we have time, sorta.” She paused, grumbling at her curfew which her friends knew was 8PM. “If I’m totally honest with you I could care less about the game so let’s skip it and go shopping.” She paused again and looked around, making sure no one was in ear shot, “I know Naomi said we SHOULD attend the pep rally and game but let’s be real, if you show up in a Macy’s dress she might disown you. What you wear is far more important than us watching boys in their peak, thinking a game will define who they are.”

Was she wrong?

“As Nomes said in the car, this place has a homecoming sale. All we’ll need is our school ID. Now if we focus on what is already on sale, prior to the extra 20 percent discount we get for being students, you can get this,” Angel suggested, handing her phone over to her friend and showing her what she discovered, before continuing her pitch, “It’s off the rack. It has been sitting there for over a year and is definitely not in season, but.” She dragged the screen down to show the price, “It’s dirt cheap and you’ll spend 30 bucks on a suit top and matching bottom. The only risk we have is it might not be your size but we will never know until we check it out. Now if you have a bustier or a lace bra, rock some heels, and add some silver jewelry, you’ll blow everyone away.”

Angel eased her hand over Indy’s, to grab her phone, her thumb brushing her palm. Her big, brown eyes glanced up as she did so, making sure they found Indy’s pretty blues. She pulled away. “I have a better suggestion though, if you want to hear it.” Once again Indy got a side of Angel that not many people did. There were three instances where Angel felt safe enough to talk freely and that was with her, in her Faith Forward meetings, and when she gamed. Indy didn’t know the last one but maybe in time she would. She was Angel’s best friend, after all.

There were so many thoughts running through Indy’s mind at the moment, and none of them were the ones that she thought were going to be in there not minutes ago.

First, there was the sale. Angel was right that she didn’t exactly have to wear a dress if she didn’t want to. Indy could never be accused of being the girliest girl in the world, but not wearing a dress to a big school event didn’t feel like an option. It clearly was though if Angel was giving it to her. And it looked sharp. While it didn’t show off her legs, it definitely emphasized other parts of her body that didn’t get enough attention when she was picking her wardrobe out. It was a bold statement of intent, that she not only wasn’t going to conform to the ideals of the old Homecoming, she was going to flaunt her choices. Her friend already knew how to accentuate it with just a glance as well. Indy shouldn’t have been surprised given how quickly Angel was able to make the skirt swap this morning, but it was still impressive.

This led to the second thought, Angel was clearly not as invested in anything she said she was before they became friends. Indy knew this. She made a big show in front of Mrs. Vazquez while praying that she didn’t watch The Handmaid’s Tale, but the more that she got to know Angel, the more she felt like there was something there that she actually had a chance at finding. Everyone knew the studious Christian girl who helmed the faith group, went home by 8 pm, and was in league with the Hive. No one knew about this sudden rebel who was suggesting ditching school events and the game to go shopping for high fashion at low prices, who dismissed the privileged of Beverly Hills both on and off the field, and who spoke with such a passion for the plan she was formulating in her head.

Except Indy. Somehow Indy knew. She was trusted enough in the eyes of this vision from Heaven to see inside, past that mask. It wasn’t quite an open book, but the vagabond was a few chapters into this page-turner, and she wanted to keep pressing on. The two were able to smile and laugh in close quarters. Not in front of Naomi or Levi or Lottie, who would tell everyone. It was their own little pact. Indy got the insight that Angel didn’t give others, the joy that she couldn’t give others.

…And the touch. Thought number three.

Indy had not been physical with anyone since arriving back in California. It was hard after Kai had opened up that world to her, but she persevered because she didn’t want to put her position with Angel, Naomi and the others in jeopardy. But the touch of that thumb on her palm gave her the same euphoria as hitting the Daily Double. As it brushed along her skin, she thought for a second this was the clasp of the hands that signified something more, but as Angel’s phone returned to its owner, Indy did her best to hide what that thought did to her. She was already blushing a little, and hopefully, Angel would think it was merely a reaction to the pretty outfit. But their eyes met again, and Indy wasn’t so sure she could hide it.

“Oh yeah?” she finally eked out. “I mean, you have been pretty much en fuego with your suggestions today, Angel. What do you have for me?”

“You’re in the Hive now,” Angel asserted, returning her phone to its designated place within her backpack. The smaller of the two zipped up the front pocket of her bag, always one to be careful and protective over her belongings, and adjusted the strap on her right shoulder. Shifting to face her friend, full body turn, she fixedly looked up at the girl with sunlit waves for hair. “I think it’s time for you to do a power move and wow our friends. Don’t you think?”

That was rhetorical.

The Latina took a step closer, to get a better look at her friend and size her up, just how she did in the car. The smell of Angel — sandalwood shampoo, perfume that was like an evergreen walk in the woods, and cocoa butter — breached Indy’s bubble, ever-present in the air. It mixed with the ocean fragrance of wood sage and sea salt that belonged to the easy on the eye, tall and lean beauty. Earth and water. That’s what described these two girls in a nutshell.

“Don’t wear anything under the blazer,” Evangely stated with complete certainty. “I’m just saying,” she insisted. “You’ll look hot as fuck with a gender-fluid aesthetic and if you really want to earn Naomi and Levi’s respect, I think that’s what you should do.” Lottie didn’t count. Indy knew, she knew. There wasn’t a lot going on in her head and Angel meant that with the utmost kindness. Their friend, as sweet as dulce de leche as she was, was a girl who thinks her nipples getting hard means it’s going to rain. She was a hype girl but her opinions were that of the Hive.

Naomi and Levi were so far away from Indy’s mind at the moment. With that idea espoused by Angel, the chances of hiding the blush on the blonde’s cheeks went from 10% to 0.10%. Just like that.

That was the lingering thought with the suit idea that crossed the blonde’s mind. Was it too much of a statement of intent? The outfit on its own certainly would put the queer thoughts that were occupied within her mind firmly into everyone else’s brains. Indy already had her come to Jesus moment when it came to being, if not a lesbian, definitely bisexual. It felt like the arrow was firmly on lesbian. She had hidden so much of it for fear of losing her chances of keeping Angel in her life.

Now her crush was boldface telling her to go bra and blazer to Homecoming.

Was this really happening? Were her dreams more of a reality than she thought? The comment from earlier came back to Indy. Angel had no interest in staring at a bunch of sweaty boys running around a field hugging each other if the other option was getting her friend a proper outfit. Was there more to that, or was it just an indictment of the possible entertainment? Indy understood the lack of passion. From what she saw, Aussie Rules was a much more exciting game than American football. Maybe it was just another thing her and Angel had in common. More than she thought.

Everything about the moment was telling her this was right. The smells coming from their combined presence were hammering in the sight before her. This dynamo in front of her, looking up to her and telling Indy to be… maybe what she couldn’t? To live the life, strut the stuff that her home life wouldn’t allow her to? Was Indy still at her parents’ place, dreaming this was really happening? She almost wanted Angel to step on her foot to confirm it was real.

“You know… I have this really nice silver bikini that I got in Sydney. If I wear the top to that, you think that would work with the blazer? Keep the teachers off my back and still be fire? The middle string will disappear in the right light.” She was not hiding anything at the moment. The filter was down. If she had her way, she wouldn’t even wear the blazer for Angel, but decorum demanded some level of modesty. Even if she thought she was reading into everything those YA novels told her this could be, there was still something in her mind telling her not to fall fully into this daydream.

“You girls know homeroom is almost over, yeah?” Their intimate moment was interrupted by a sultry, stripper-like, British voice. Mrs. Sydney Royce, cheer captain and health education teacher, nearly as tiny as Angel, appeared between the girls. Not too close to make them uncomfortable, but close enough so they knew they weren’t alone in the hallway. Her blonde curls were vibrant and untamed, her petite body was adorned with a cute, red bow dress, and even when she tried to hold herself with some kind of authority, she was easy going, harmonious, and playfully upbeat; a bright smile beaming from her face. It was hard to see this woman as a leading figure at this school. If anything, most students saw her as one of them (to her frustration). “I’m not gonna’ write you a slip but you should definitely get goin’ before one of the big dogs comes and sees you. Oh and maybe, I overheard a little, Nicola, you should do that. It would be like really amazeballs and I bet that look would make it to the yearbook.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Royce, I agree. She’d look great and, yeah, sorry, we lost track of time.” Angel admitted and apologized, not really thinking it was worth lying to their health teacher who usually let most of her students get away with murder. “We were just leaving actually.”

“Oh sure, sure.” Sydney chuckled, already having her own ideas of their interaction. “Before you skedaddle, Evangely, dear, you should try a black dress. I don’t know why but when I look at you I see you really workin’ in black. Absolute killer vibes. But oopsie! I’m getting distracted, you two better head on off before I’ll have no choice but to give you a ticket to detention.” She paused and grimaced when she said those last words. “Ew, I hate saying that,” the youthful teacher admitted, before shooing them away, “Now get goin’ please.”

“No worries, Mrs. Royce. We’ll check in with Belmonte immediately,” Indy confirmed. She very nearly called her Sydney, given how much she looks like one of Lottie’s co-captains instead of her coach. She held off though. “And thank you. If you’re chaperoning, I’ll try and make sure I strike the right pose for the Pirates’ Log.” She winked and started hustling herself and Angel towards Room 105.

As they departed, she kept her voice down while whispering. “Sydney’s right, you know.” That time she couldn’t help it. “You absolutely rock black like nobody’s business. If you see something at the Closet that you want to get and you know your mom won’t approve of it, I can hold onto your outfit for you and bring it so you can change into it at the dance. It’s the least I can do for all your help.”

“Okay,” Angel agreed while walking beside her friend, finally reaching their homeroom. She wasn’t afraid of trying a new outfit. If she could, she would have a whole new wardrobe that suited her and wasn’t what her mom wanted her to wear. It was just more effort than not to hide what she likes from her parents, especially right from under their nose. “You should pick my outfit out. I’d like to see what you think looks good on me.”

If she was dressing Indy, might as well let Indy dress her. It was only fair. Plus she trusted Indy, more than she’d ever know, and earning Angel’s trust wasn’t an easy feat. For the most part, Angel hated people. Indy wasn’t one of them.

Indy still thought she was dreaming, but if she was, she didn’t care to wake up. This was a world she could live in until zombie Jesus came back to Earth. Nothing else mattered. “Bet.”

[Grimoire Gaming]

_{FT: AJ Tyler
Includes Dom's Garage Employees:
Eiran Goldstein & Chris Reyes
@LovelyComplex & @Grimoire Gaming
Small FT: Decky Boaz @Aces Away}

With KIIS-FM radio station playing ‘Shut Up And Dance’ by Walk the Moon through the garage’s sound system, Eiran Goldstein spent this early morning drinking his black coffee and straightening up his office. Call him old fashioned but he liked the radio. It was less work than spotify, apple music, the youtube, or whatever these kids use nowadays. For the most part, he didn’t mind the latest hits. It kept him informed, up-to-date, and hip. Without the radio or the news on the TV, or his son who read articles on the web, Eiran would be considered, especially during this day and age, an old dog. An old dog that just had a hard time learning new tricks. New tricks like learning how to use a smartphone that could break if you didn’t buy a hefty case with it.

He wasn’t that old. He was thirty seven but with his upbringing, the only thing he cared about learning was the ins and outs of the garage. Everyone else can deal with the new software for the computer when Dom upgrades things every couple of years. Everyone else can keep the books in check and make sure they got inventory when they need parts. Everyone else can understand the business side of things while he focuses on the grease.

Something about keeping up with the times... just didn’t mesh well with Eiran Goldstein. He was a good mechanic, one of the best, but learning new gadgets and gizmos hurt his goddamn brain. Thank Hashem his son, brothers, nephews, Chris and all their friends were smart enough to get a keurig machine to work. Shit was hard! He remembered the days when he’d be grateful to even have water to drink, now they’re here living like kings with fancy coffee makers. Stupid technology.

He was in a good mood though. There were no calls from school that his family needed bailing. There were no calls from the cops that his family needed bailing. There were no calls from the power duo that was his wife, Devorah, and his best friend’s fiancée, Junie, that he, himself, or Zo needed bailing from. He’d consider that a good day when none of his family needed a get out of jail free card. With the music at a reasonable level, where he could hear the bell if someone entered the garage lobby, Eiran put his coffee mug on the desk and started dusting. His mug had a picture of him, his wife, and his son on it and over their head there was text that read: World’s Best Dad. He did a subtle head bob as he walked around the office with a rag and wiped down the shelves, counters and furniture.

Lifting picture frames of his family, having a frame for all those he loved — his garage family, his immediate family, his nephews, his brothers, his best friends, and all the gearheads that made the garage their second home — Eiran smiled to himself. He was proud of how far they all came. To think he used to sleep at graveyards just to get away from his parents. That was until Hershey was born. Now he had a home, he had a son, and he was able to take care of all his family. With the help of his wife and best friends, of course. And Dominic Tyler. He couldn’t have done any of this without Dom providing a stable source of income and a small pad to crash at for a bit until his crew was able to settle and build a proper life with security, safety and soundness of mind.

After wiping down the last bit of side table, holding a picture of the Boaz brothers in one hand, Eiran heard loud music from outside, louder than HIS music, and an even louder, abrupt honk. Maybe he spoke too soon about the sound of mind thing. This was a place that somehow had the worst teen drama and angst and that was solely because the heart of the pack was a DRAMA QUEEN. AJ-Fucking-Tyler. Nothing like his father. More like his mother. “Mordechai better not be with him,” Eiran grumbled under his breath.

Leaving the rag behind, knowing Chris was occupied with a job, Eiran left his office just when the bell rang. Today was Chris’ shop day and fortunately for Chris he had a part time job here. Eiran had no qualms for the boy to get paid with money AND credits. Eiran liked doing business with WVC. It was a good place. Set kids like him and Chris on the right path. He didn’t attend. By the time he settled in LA he was too old, but if he had the option when he was younger, he would’ve. When he reached the lobby Eiran stopped in his tracks. Dom’s son’s eyes were bloodshot, his face was wet, and his hair was going every which way because of the wind. This was not Eiran’s wheelhouse at all.

“Where’s Chris?” AJ unhooked his glasses off his shirt and put them back on his face, thinking that would be enough to hide the stress and pain boiling inside of him.

“Usual spot… back there. Doin’ a brake job. Uh, you…” Eiran stopped himself. He knew how AJ would answer if he checked up on him. Instead he decided to just leave it to Chris to do the heavy lifting. He didn’t get paid enough to be on AJ babysitting duty. “CHRIS, AJ IS HERE FOR YOU!” Rubbing his neck, Eiran cleared his throat, “There’s donuts… in the break room. If you want some.”

“I’m good, thanks,” AJ responded, giving a weak smile and trying to pretend that he didn’t want to jump off the nearest cliff. His phone vibrated. He checked it and saw that Decky texted him. As he made his way to the garage, he texted back:

TO: fellow fuckhead
I fucked up.

AJ Tyler

The response came back immediately.

FROM: fellow fuckhead
First: U safe?

Decky Boaz

TO: fellow fuckhead
Yeah. With Chris.

AJ Tyler

FROM: fellow fuckhead
Good
Talk 2 Chris 4 now
There if u need me
talk l8r if not
Dont piss off my uncles

Decky Boaz

TO: fellow fuckhead
k… uh

AJ Tyler

AJ paused when he saw Chris’ feet from under a car. Should he? Or would that ruin Decky’s day? Biting his inner cheek, anxious, he decided to give into his impulse, knowing this could backfire and bring up a painful conversation later. He needed to, though. He was worried and Decky was one of his best friends.

TO: fellow fuckhead
if you see Jamie, can you make sure he is ok?
I’mma go now. ✌️

AJ Tyler

FROM: fellow fuckhead
Typing…
Typing…
Typing…

Decky Boaz

The length of the message that eventually came through on his phone did not match the wait it took to send it.

FROM: fellow fuckhead
He’s fine
was bein usual dick self in hr
We’ll talk l8r bout it

Decky Boaz

Despite hearing Eiran call out from the front that AJ was here for him, Chrysler kept working at his current task. His job and internship at the garage was something, and perhaps the only thing, that Chris took seriously. Besides Emmy, of course — the two aspects of his life that he really didn’t want to fuck up — his future, if he had any choice in the matter.

A few moments passed before he heard the sound of footsteps in the bay he was stationed in for the day. There was an even longer pause after the footsteps ceased, the only noise coming from the wrench Chris was ratcheting a bolt tightened with.

“You’re quiet…” he said without sliding out from under the car he was replacing the brake line on. A quiet AJ was never a good sign.

“Isn’it a Friday too? Don’t ya have school or some shit?” The same could be asked of Chris, but Fridays were his internship days at the shop, which he got school credit for and was actually required for seniors at WVC. The internship day, that is, not specifically one at a garage. The Westwood Vocational Center taught all manner of trades.

“Yeah, I guess so,” AJ whispered back, pocketing his phone and trying to gather his thoughts. The thoughts, his regret, the pain, and the fucking downright horror of what he did, replayed over and over and over in his mind. He looked at his hands, hands that were that of a man, hands that had power to heal and harm, and hands that hurt Jamie. Fidgety, he cracked his knuckles, debating if this was a mistake. Should he have just gone about his day? Should he have chased Jamie down? Should he have said he was sorry? Should he even be here? What was he even doing?

His father sometimes got angry, but he never hurt his mother, and if he did try to assert his dominance, she would slap him in the face or get violent. His mother was absolutely terrifying when she got angry. Why didn’t Jamie get violent? Why didn’t he fight back? Why didn’t he just… hate him? It would’ve been so much easier if he hated him but those eyes, that final gaze of pain in his eyes, fucking ruined AJ. He hated this. He hated this feeling so much. He went in thinking he was doing the right thing, breaking off their fuck buddy arrangement, but it only turned into him desperately wanting Jamie to admit that he loved him and he loved being loved by him. He just wanted Jamie and it was killing him. Killing him slowly.

He stopped in his tracks staring away from Chris, looking outside of the garage, at all the cars passing by. The more he pressed replay, the more he hated himself. The more he wanted to feel nothing. “I know what you’re going to say. ‘I told you so’. But yeah, you were fucking right. I shouldn’t have went back to him. I’m stupid for ever thinking Jamie actually was that into me.” What are you saying? You know he is into you. Just not enough to commit but certainly enough to feel absolute shock after you hurt him.

“Mm—” Chris grunted as he popped the line out and let the old brake fluid drain into the pan he had set out for that purpose. “Ain’t much for ‘I told ya so’s’. I know when I’m right, an’ whether or not ya come to see that’s true is on you, brother.”

Chris bent a knee and pushed himself out from under the bed of the car, aided by the creeper wheeler he was laying on. Sitting up and wiping the oil from his hands with a dirty shop rag, he looked up to his friend for the first time — noting the red cheeks and sunglasses indoors — and sighed. This was gonna be a doozy. “I guess I can donate ya’ my government mandated fifteen, Tyler. C’mon, I need a cig for this.”

The mechanic led AJ out back to his usual break spot, an old wooden bench just around the corner from the dumpsters with an upside down five gallon bucket that had an ashtray on top of it. Fishing the red and white pack of Marlboro’s and a black Bic lighter out of his pocket, he tapped a cigarette out and placed it between his lips before offering AJ one from the pack as well.

“So… what happened?” he asked, taking a large draw of breath as he lit the cigarette into a bright red cherry, drawing the spicy smoke deep down into the darkest depths of his lungs. Healthy? Of course not! Chris was here for a good time, not a long one.

Waving his hand, declining the offer of cigarettes, even if it was tempting, AJ took a seat next to his friend and clasped his hands together. His right foot restlessly bounced as he hunched over, thinking of how to put this. He knew nothing he would say would really get Chris upset at him. Disappointed, sure. But not outright upset because Chris knew AJ well enough to know that whatever was going on with him was something more than who he was as a person. “I, uh.”

AJ Tyler was struggling with finding the right words. His mind was fading in and out of clarity. He was hyper attentive to his surroundings, to his friend, to the aching feeling in his chest, but his mouth was dry, coming out empty. He was scared. The moment he said what he did would be the moment he admitted that he was a god awful person who had no handle over his emotions. That he allowed himself in a place where he was actively willing to harm Jamie because the idea of not having him was devastating and maybe if he had more control Jamie would want him again. Want him in a way that romantic lovers do, not just fuck buddies.

“I met with Jamie and I…” His leg bobbed profusely. “I let him go. But you know how… we get and I, um, I— The words stumbled out like tumbleweeds, following the direction of his heart but leaping and rolling slowly out of his mouth. This was harder than usual. “—I hurt him, Chris.” He profoundly stated, pausing afterwards to unclasp his hands just to roughly rub his face, from his lower mouth down to his chin. “I just got so into the moment that I hurt him.”

“Alright…” Chris said, sighing out a deep exhale of smoke. He squinted up at the sky, and passively scratched at his chin in deep thought. There were a lot of things to unpack in AJ’s words, but as a friend, there was far more to unpack in his actions. He was sweating, pale as fuck, twitching, losing his words and trains of thought. This was more than just emotions or anxiety, Chris knew his boy, and right now, he was tweaking out.

“We’ll get back to that, but first,” he flicked some ashes into the tray on top of the bucket. “Take your sunglasses off. Look me in the eye, right now.” There was a seriousness in his tone as sharp as barbed wire.

“What? Why?” AJ was quick to protest, even going out of his way to stand right up and put distance between him and his best friend. “I don’t see why my glasses have anything to do with me needing you.” There was a tense feeling in his chest and uneasiness coursing through his veins, like he was being cornered. “I’ve been crying, okay, and I don’t want you to see that shit.”

“It has everything to do with it, actually. For why you need me, specifically, and not one of your Hills’ chums.” Chrysler replied casually, remaining seated and calm throughout AJ’s reaction, to show he wasn’t a threat. Not yet, at least. Not until he knew exactly what he was dealing with. “Cuz ya been doin’ more than cryin’, and I don’t really give a shit about that. And you know that. So fine, stay hidin’ behind your shades, I’m still gonna have ya tell me what you’ve done. Because it sure as shit ain’t weed, and it better not involve a fuckin’ needle.”

Chris’ sharp words stung and like a defeated puppy, AJ took off his sunglasses and hooked them on his shirt. He didn’t look his friend in the eyes though. It was clear he wasn’t proud of his actions from this morning. There was a voice that was telling him that he didn’t need Chris. Who was he to tell him what to do? How would he understand how he felt, like really? Chris had Emeline, sure, but that was hardly the same. Or maybe it was. Who was AJ to judge someone else’s love story?

God, he couldn’t think straight and where there was that voice, there was another voice telling him to breathe, be still, and listen. You came here for a reason. Let it play out before you run away and make things worse. He wanted to listen to both but he could only pick one. For now, he’d pick the quieter one. It wasn’t fair to Chris for him to act like a child when AJ sought him out. He wanted Chris. No one else but him. There was value behind that.

“I just needed a little… courage. But maybe I did a little too much because I got pretty amped.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the remaining snow he had on his person. “Like father, like son, I guess,” he meekly mumbled. He still needed to tell Chris what he did but that part terrified him. What if Chris didn’t like him anymore? Why did he go to Chris specifically? If he went to Decky at least he’d be rewarded with a black eye. He didn’t know why his impulse led him here but it was too late to go back. He was already here so he just had to be patient, if that was even possible, and let things play out. If Chris hated him after this, then he deserved it.

Chris took another long drag from his cigarette. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a tidal wave of relief at seeing that it was just coke in the baggie AJ fished out of his jacket. A rich people drug… it was addictive, sure, but not nearly as dangerous as smack or some of the other opioids going around the streets these days. “Courage, huh? I told you that shit’s for parties, it ain't for when you’re already feelin’ low.” Chris leaned back into the bench, crossing an ankle over his knee while his thumb drummed out a beat on his thigh.

“Makes shit worse. Alright, so you showed up all coked up to see your ex. And you…. hurt him? How? Like ya’ll came to blows or…?” he somewhat nervously awaited the answer. Chris held no love in his heart for the sandy-haired twink that made a game of ruining his homie’s life, but he certainly didn’t wish him injury, or worse… “And sit back the fuck down, please. Ain’t no safer place to be than with me right now, and you know I hate having to look up to people.” Short king problems.

Okay, fuck.

He’d sit back down.

Now beside Chris once more, AJ rubbed his jeans, trying to once again, amp himself up to say what he did. This was a lot harder than it looked like and it seemed that the coke had backfired; hardcore. “I was trying to prove a point,” he started, carefully treading forward, hesitant to sink before he even got to the point. “That Jamie only wants to fuck me because of how I make him feel. If you took out the heart and the fact that I can’t get him out of my fucking head, he’d hate me in seconds. That…” his voice trailed off momentarily as he felt the friction of his pants.

In a way this feeling was keeping him rooted to the chair. Doing something to keep him preoccupied as he spoke his painful truth was a good thing and it felt nice. His pants felt nice. While it probably looked silly, or concerning, it allowed his friend to see someone incredibly weak and stupid. It allowed AJ to not wear a cool mask and reveal how much of a mess he was and it was all because he put himself in a place to be so incredibly codependent on a boy that didn’t give a damn about him. “...that wouldn’t be a bad thing. If Jamie hated me. Maybe it would make things easy, you know?”

Finally, AJ looked at his friend and admitted, “I slammed him against a wall and treated him like a piece of meat. I wasn’t going to go too far, I promise. I couldn’t, or at least I thought I couldn’t… do something like that. All I did was overpower him and mark his neck… which could be hot, in like any other circumstance. He wasn’t listening to me. He was running away, like he always does and I just fucking grabbed him. Oh god, what if I did more to him? What if I have it in me to rape someone Chris? This is so fucking scary. I’m such a fucking horrible person.” And the tears started rushing out and AJ buried his face in his hands. “Why am I like this? Why do I care so much? I just want this pain to stop, Chris. I hate him so much.”

“You don’t, man. You’re right, it’d be easier if you did, hell, I wish you did hate that little shit, but you still love ‘em.” Chris stabbed out the spent cig in the ashtray and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees now. Folding his fingers together, he made a point to only look forward as he spoke, giving his friend the privacy to grieve the loss of his beau, and the loss of a piece of himself along the way. Some actions can’t be taken back, and there’s consequences you have to live with. That’s life, and it’s messy as fuck.

“That’s why your arrangement was never really going to work out, and it sucks that this is how it ended up. But, what’s done is done. Ya ain’t a horrible person, you just weren’t fully yourself with that snow in your system, and Jamie — he pushes buttons. That’s what he does, kid fucking makes a hobby of airing peoples dirty laundry in a shitty school newspaper, but never once looks at the pile of shit in his own hamper.” Chris stopped himself before he got too heated. He really, really did not like that snake.

“I’ma keep it real, what ya did ain’t great,” It was, by technical definition, sexual assault. Chris scratched the back of his head and raked his fingers through his gelled hair a couple of times before lacing his hands back together. “The way I see it, ya got two options, an’ they both kinda suck, but ya gotta choose one. First, you reach out, probably text him, it’s easier to get your words right and not get…. distracted.” As AJ would no doubt be if it was an in person conversation. “And apologize. Be totally for real, say you weren’t sober and you acted out of pocket and that you feel horrible. Be completely honest. And then, no matter what he says or does, just let it all go. I’m so serious, just, never talk again. Move on and start healing, there are literally so many other people out there.”

As selfishly satisfying as it would be to only provide that one line of advice and have his friend follow it, Chris knew AJ too well to leave it at that. The kid felt too deeply. “The second option starts much like the first. Come clean, honest apology, let all them feelings out. And then, say exactly what you were trying to tell him before he tried to run and you… acted out. Put those words in writing. Lay it out blank. Kid’s a so-called writer, right? So let him read it, then. Tell him how you feel, how he makes you feel, and how you want to feel. And if you can’t come to a mutual agreement, then this plan ends a bit like the first. Let it go, no contact, move on, heal, fuck somebody else. Love somebody else. Ya got a big heart, man, I know you got it in you.”

Both options were hard options. Admitting your flaws and coming clean, when he deliberately filtered his drug use from his ex, wasn’t going to be easy. Getting Jamie to listen, actively, wasn’t going to be easy. Letting go, well, that sounded damn near impossible. He was right, though. Of course Chris was right. He always was. He had a clear conscience and was a perfect third party. Not caught in the drama and heat that was Beverly Hills High.

Both options sounded painful but which one was worse? Cutting him completely off and moving on, or saying his peace, seeing the results, and if it still bears no fruit, cutting him off and moving on? Was it worth the effort to keep trying? It was obvious that no matter what he did, he was beating a dead horse. Being in such close vicinity to Jamie was not doing him any good or anyone for that matter. He just needed to decide and commit. Leave it at that. It wasn’t like he was alone. Not really. He had Rye and while it wasn’t love, it made him less lonely. Rye kept him company and it was nice. Maybe Rye was the answer to AJ moving on and finding someone that was good for him.

“Yeah, okay. I can do that,” AJ replied, his voice a little shaky as he tried to convince himself that this would be okay. He had a good support system and that goes a long way with grief. “... like now?” Pulling out his phone, AJ stared at it, debating if he should sober up a little or should he just speak out everything he just did with Chris, now that he’d calmed down?

“Maybe get donuts in you first,” Eiran came out to join them, making his presence known. The moment was coming to an end and soon Chris would need to get back to work. They had more jobs coming their way and lord knows Eiran didn’t want to stay at the garage all day on a Friday.

The whole garage consisted of Jewish men which meant they might all have a nosy spirit in them, especially his younger brother, Hirsch. Tiny little shit was hiding somewhere. “Seriously, you two go get some before Zo eats it all. Fuckin’ guy eating his nerves away because Junie can pop like any day now.”

Chris startled slightly at the voice of one of his superiors at the shop. He checked his phone quickly to make sure he hadn’t gone over fifteen on his “break”, if you could call it that. Hearing out AJ was more work than any measure of manual labor sometimes. “You got it, boss” he said coolly, standing up from the bench at long last. He looked back to his friend and noticed the baggie of white powder was still sitting on the bucket near the ashtray. Before heading off to fetch a donut, he said one last piece. A friendly zinger to lighten the mood, a return to the normalcy of their somewhat unlikely kinship. “And take your shit with you, please. Some of us need to work for a living, I ain’t havin’ your ass get me fired.”

“And I don’t want to go back to rehab,” Eiran humored the two, hoping his stupidity at least helped with the mood a little. Where was his wife when he needed her? Devorah was far better at this mushy, emotional shit. He held the door open for the two to come in. “Now come on, let's be fat before we have to be responsible.”

As Chris got up, AJ looked at his phone. He could do this, after a donut. Grabbing his packet, he slipped it into his pocket and followed his best friend and his dad’s confidant into the garage.

AJ was quiet again. The only words he had left to say were for Jamie and that was all thanks to his buddy Chris. This was a good visit. He needed it.

[Festive]

_{TIMESTAMP: 6:00 AM on October 18, 2024
LOCATION(s): Santa Monica Beach →
Beverly Hills High School, Beverly Hills
SONG: Cuando Calienta el Sol
INCULUDING: Alejandro De Borbón y Prusia (#110006)
& Clara von Pruessen (#999999) (Alvaro's parents)}

Álvaro needed to jumpstart his morning.

It was like his routine, the cream-colored Plymouth Fury rolled to a stop in the same spot it had sat the day prior. He exited his trusted vehicle, Álvaro's eyes were held at the horizon as he unfastened the surfboard from atop the roof of his car, and as if it were clockwork the first rays of sunlight shone down on Santa Monica beach. While he hated routine, the view he was afforded made up for it. The distance from the pier allowed for him, his board, and the open ocean to be the only ones around; at this moment, isolation was bliss to him. His gaze shifted instinctually to the beach, as waves crashed against it with an air of elegance, rarely rising too high as they rolled into flat water. It was cold to the touch; the water wrapped around Álvaro’s legs when he entered the sea, it was almost like he was right back home in Barcelona. Álvaro’s mother was the one who taught him how to surf, she would take him out on their private beach on mornings just like this, she showed him the ropes, taught him the motions to go through to catch a wave, the exact same methods he uses till this day. The sound of his mother's slight German-accented voice going through the motions reverberated in his brain, he knew what to do, it was practically muscle memory at this point, but he still heard it.

“You have to take it slow, Álvaro” His bare chest lay pressed against the surface of his board as he paddled out; his mind was clear, it usually was during his morning escapades, the only thing that lingered was his mother’s voice. The truth was Álvaro seldom saw his mother, even during the breaks when he would return home to Spain, his father would keep him busy. One month he’ll take Álvaro to work with him in France, the next in Turkey, continuing until it was time for Alvaro to return to the States. His father had even stopped Álvaro from surfing with his mother when he was young as there were “Much better ways for my son to be spending his time.” Álvaro never complained though, anything to make his father happy, right? A father always knows what’s best for his son, right? “Watch how I do it, Álvaro. You have to stand up as you meet the wave.” Álvaro’s eyes were locked on the encroaching wave, it was the biggest he had seen this morning, maybe even the whole week. He was supped, the thrill of catching the wave was as puissant as always, although Álvaro only caught this thrill when he was successful. Success was like his drug and the thrill was his high, it was like a bullet train he could not get off, to Álvaro there was no stopping until he achieved that success, hell, he wouldn’t even stop after. The speed of his paddling increased with the closer the wave got, and the path of his paddling arched into a semi-circle with his back now facing the wave. He took a deep breath and held it, pushing his body up off the board in a quick, fluid motion as he felt the wave hit his board.“You caught it, Álvaro! Try to keep steady.” Álvaro rode the wave like it would be the last he ever rode, he swerved back and forth making quick turns as he skated across the open ocean. Water splashed about from his cutting of rushing water, soaking his body even more than the paddling had, stopping only when his wave had fizzled out.

That thrill had been achieved.

Álvaro laid back on the board, flipping his wet hair away from his eyes before he began to paddle back. He was disappointed, that was the best wave he was going to get this morning and Alavro never wasted his time on anything lesser; something he picked up from his father, never settle for anything but the best. In no time he had made it back to his car, Álvaro propped the board up on the side of the vehicle, grabbing his phone and a towel off the driver's seat. “Maldita sea, se me ha olvidado…” _{(“Shit, I forgot”)} Two missed calls and one new message from Padre.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Álvaro wasn’t a man frightened easily but, man, did that strike the fear of God into him. The fact that it was Friday had slipped his mind, it was 6:42 in L.A., but 15:42 (3:30 PM) in Barcelona, this was ten minutes after the time once a week his father would call to check-in. He had never missed these calls, goosebumps covered his the moment he clicked the notification.

FROM: Padre
Llámame
_{(Call me)}

Álvaro called his father immediately, his heart beat harder the longer the ringing continued. He had failed his father, not only had he neglected one of the few things his father asked from him, he did it while engaging in an action his father had forbade him from doing. Álvaro strove to live up to his father’s expectations, he was born into the shadow of a giant who demanded Álvaro grow bigger than himself. He constantly tries to please his father but nothing has seemed to work, the only thing he does seem to make his father is angry; he has a short fuse and this has definitely lit it. When the ringing stopped his heart sunk into his stomach, the noise from the other end was silent say for the few times he heard his father breathing, the words flew out our Álvaro almost automatically,

“Hola padre, lo siento por haber perdido la llamada de usted, yo estaba conduciendo y no vi el teléfono mío sonando.”
_{(Hello father, I am sorry to have missed your call, I was driving and I did not see my phone ring.)}

He was lying through his teeth, but it was much better than the alternative; that would’ve just made him more mad.

“Álvaro, buenos días. A tu madre le hubiera encantado hablar con usted esta mañana. Es una pena que tu propia incompetencia haya evitado eso. Nunca dejas de decepcionarme, Álvaro.”
_{(Álvaro, good morning. Your mother would have loved to speak to you this morning, it’s a shame your own incompetence has prevented that. You never fail to disappoint me, Álvaro)}

Now that stung. It really struck deep.

“Lo siento, padre, eso no fue mi intención.”
_{(I am sorry, father, it was not my intention.)}

Álvaro leaned against the car beside his board, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he held back the hurt.

“Independientemente de la intención, nos has decepcionado a mí y a la madre de usted también. Ahora, te ha ido bien en la escuela,¿si?”
_{(Regardless of intention, you have let me, and your mother down. Now, you have been doing well in school, yes?)}

“Si, padre.”
_{(Yes, father.)}

“Muy bien, recuerda, llegaré a Los Angeles para asistir a la conferencia en diciembre, usted asistirá conmigo, ¿entendido?”
_{(Alright. Remember, I will be arriving in Los Angeles to attend the conference in December, you will attend with me, understood?)}

“Si, padre.”
_{(Yes, father.)}

“Muy bien, adiós Álvaro.”
_{(Alright, goodbye Álvaro.)}

“Adiós padre, yo te amo.”
_{(Goodbye father, I love you.)}

Nothing could be heard on the other side.

The line clicked.

“Ojalá, probablemente no me escuchó.” _{(He probably didn’t hear me.)} Álvaro muttered under his breath, slipping his phone into his pocket and propping his board right back onto the roof of his car. He needed to do better, he needed to be better. Hell, he missed out on speaking to his mother today because he wanted to continue this frivolous activity he considered a hobby. His father was right, there were much better ways Álvaro could’ve spent his time, but because he didn’t listen he missed the opportunity to talk to his sick mother, and Álvaro was one who never missed an opportunity. If there was one thing Álvaro learned was that his father was never wrong; he was cold, and his lessons were tough, but he always learned that. Although, deep down, Álvaro wished his father would treat him the same way he treated him under the public’s eye, he radiated a warmth to his son that turned cold when they got home. But! Álvaro knew it was only for his benefit, no pain, no gain, he knew his father loved him like he did in public deep down, he had to…

Álvaro grabbed his bookbag from the front seat, changing out of the soaked pair of shorts he was wearing into his outfit for the rest of the day; a black jacket upon a plain crimson shirt, and a pair of black chinos. It was a black and red day, probably the only time he would be seen in this color pairing, it was too vibrant for his liking. Álvaro’s hands lay idly on the wheel as he sat in the driver's seat, still reeling from the phone call. “Fuck!” Álvaro hit the steering wheel in frustration, nothing he ever did was good enough, he needed no more slip-ups, this year had to be his best and that meant by any means necessary. Álvaro turned the key in the ignition, shifted into gear, and then sped off from the beach.

His arrival at school was no less spectacular than any other day, dapping up and giving quick hellos to the scores of people he passed in the hallway was exhausting, none of these people were truly his friends, only serfs he kept around for what they brought to the table. That was the one thing his father taught him, people were only to be blessed by your company if they supplied something you needed, and that was what Álvaro lived by. Álvaro managed to make homeroom around the time he always had, taking his seat at his desk right as the morning show started rolling, he had the whole day ready to take all for himself.

[Aces Away]

_{FT: Gavriel Shomer @Aces Away
Jordyn Jones, Niles Sinclair, & Helen Wells @LovelyComplex}

____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________

Rye all but bowled JJ over with the speed that he flung himself out of the media center and into the hall, throwing himself on her with a dramatic sigh and giving himself three seconds of hiding his face in her shoulder before he had to face the world outside the set lights. He was always careful when doing this never to squish their bodies together, to keep his hug up around her shoulders, ever aware of his best friend’s rotation of rodents and their snuggle spots in her bag and hoodie pockets. His best friend basically carried around emotional support in the form of fuzzy little friends that were absolutely not actually allowed to be there, but Rye loved it.

He loved it even more when they got loose and caused chaos, but he’s been told he can be a bit of a dick with what he finds funny sometimes. To each their own.

Pulling away, Rye looked at JJ and tilted his head, questioning, “That’s a pretty serious thinking face you’ve got going on, Jay, am I in trouble for something? Also who do you got on you today, is it one of the ones that likes me and wants cuddles?”

Opening her tote, to showcase Biggie sweet chillen, JJ gave a nod to answer that question (Biggie loved cuddles with anyone that didn’t want to squish him) before she let out everything, speedily, that was on her mind. “Okay so I think Chai noticed me because I put on Addie’s lipstick, which is more progress I ever made with him even after you keep telling me to just be myself.” Rye and her sisters were the only ones that knew how bad JJ had it for the bad boy but she didn’t want to overstep or make Chai uncomfortable, so she tried her best to stay in her lane and be just friends. Her crush was getting harder and harder to bury and she knew if she didn’t do something now they’d waste their last year still being just friends. She didn’t want to be just friends anymore.

She wanted more.

To make Chai happy in ways that only lovers could but in her humble opinion Rye was always better in the department of sex and love, and knew Chai more than her. There was also Chai’s childhood best friend, and lover, Sunshine, to consider. Without a doubt, Sonny was a package deal if she wanted to embark on this journey. JJ had spent most of her highschool career thinking about her sexuality, her wants and needs, and while she was deeply out of her element in courting, she knew she’d be okay with sharing. Her heart had plenty of room to love more than just one person. She just hadn’t really tried anyone yet.

There were times she thought that maybe Rye was a better match for their mutual interest. That, however, rarely lasted long. She would never know unless she tried and she wasn’t one to harbor on comparing herself with her best friend. They had similar taste and that just goes to show that he understood her better than others. Well, except better than PJ. PJ was her twin. She had an advantage. Rye constantly encouraged her to try and assured her that what he had with Decky was not what she was seeking. JJ wanted commitment, which is why she couldn’t sleep around and explore, and Rye wanted companionship, to feel less lonely, and was in need of intimacy. He explained to her that he got that from a few people. Not just Decky.

“So I was thinking after the game — because we both know I need to do my drummer girl thing — we should go shopping so I can get him to really see me. But also! I don’t know if this is the time or place to talk about this but like, Jamie was not himself this morning. He was walking away from the murder shed and looking sad, so I kept him company and we’re actually going to the party together, weird right? But that’s beside the point. Whatever he has going on had to do with a really prominent hickey on his neck and I hope he is okay but like I want to know from you, what’s the beef between him and Chai? I was sitting in between them and it was… A LOT. I’m honestly glad Biggie slipped out and scared the shiitake mushrooms out of PJ. I really thought Chai was going to punch Jamie’s face in!” When she got everything out of her mind, she exhaled out, content that it was no longer trapped inside.

Rye had received Biggie from JJ while she spoke and the mouse had curled up under the collar of his flannel, something he’d taken from Sully’s closet on his last visit with the express interest of having them wear the same type of clothes on screen this morning, and the other boy hadn’t even noticed. Not that Rye was surprised, he’d pulled little tricks like this on the second host of the Morning Show ever since Freshman year and dude just breezed by completely unaware somehow even with more caffeine coursing through his system than Rye has anxiety, and that’s really saying something. Whatever, the fabric was comfy as hell and Rye had left behind his sherpa lined zip up hoodie of his that he knew Sully loved the softness of, so it wasn’t like he didn’t give a fair trade too. Sully probably just thought Rye left it on accident, but the smaller boy loved that hoodie and would never forget it somewhere, especially without asking after it for the whole week since. No, that hoodie was the streamer boy’s now just as much as his flannel was now Rye’s, it was just how friendships and companionship with him worked.

In order to process all of his friend’s words, Rye closed his eyes before slowly reaching up to press his earbuds in further and take a deep, grounding breath as his brain finished processing the wonder of Chai noticed me, shopping after school and moved along to the anxiety inducing Jamie, murder shed, going to the party together, Jamie and Decky tension. He dropped his fingers from the earphones and made sure to give Biggie an adoring scritch on his little head before letting his hands fall slack at his sides. Dammit. First Sully before the day even started and now JJ is dancing on the edge of it all too, getting a peek over the fence into a situation that by all means they shouldn’t have to worry about. He blew out a harsh breath and began tapping his thighs rapidly before making the executive decision that this was not the place to be having this conversation. Rye had nothing against Jamie, honestly- didn't even really interact with him outside the media center- and there was no reason to be spilling everyone’s secrets in the open halls.

“Okay. Okay, yeah, that lipstick does look fucking great on you by the way I’m glad it pulled Deck’s head outta his ass, and you calling him Chai is honestly so adorable I can’t even. Now come on, not here for the rest,” Rye grabbed JJ’s hand and began to drag her towards the best place he could think of. The library this early in the morning was almost strictly filled with student tutors and their charges, and avid readers who get lost in their books, which meant if you kept your noise level respectful, no one paid you any damn mind nor did they care for any gossip that did manage to filter past the printed pages of their textbook and novel induced hazes. They soon reached the library doors and Rye had to jump back last minute to avoid getting smacked in the face as one of them swung open and slammed into the wall. “Christ!”

“Watch it Twinkie,” The boy that had flung the door open sneered as he hefted his backpack higher on his shoulder. “Why are you everywhere?” Rye’s surprised look dropped when he saw who it was and he immediately rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and cocking his hip out to complete the judgmental stance.

“You didn’t mind this twinkie when you were desperate to be the filling, Ronnell,” He responded as the door swung closed, making the other boy grimace. As one of the Junior Firefighters and Junior EMTs, Ronnell and Rye had joint training quite often, and over the summer it had culminated into a night of disappointment and embarrassment. Ronnell didn’t take Rye’s attempted assurances well, in fact he’d turned on the other boy completely and treated him like shit since, so Rye just gave back as good as he got. “Maybe you can’t stop thinking of me so you keep manifesting me in your vicinity. Am I on your mind that much? Miss what you barely had a chance to have?”

“Fuck off, Shomer,” The larger boy spat, hands fisted at his sides. “Never even wanted to be with you in the first place, never want to again,” He shoved Rye back by the shoulder and stalked away at breakneck speeds, but not fast enough to avoid Rye’s parting shot.

“Whaaaaat? Really?” Rye called, waving with one hand and boosting his own voice with his other hand cupped on the side of his mouth. “But Ronnie, we made such a great pair for the three seconds you lasted!”

“SIR, TWINKIES ARE GOOD!” JJ called out before immediately getting a quiet shush by a male student poking his head out from the library entrance before closing it to go back to his book.

“You tell ‘im, Jay,” The malicious smile dropped off of his face the second the other boy was out of view and a scowl to rival Decky’s took over. “What a fucking prick, I didn’t even care but then he had to go make it a thing,” He grabbed the door handle to the library and threw it open, intending to go through and hold it open for JJ to pass the threshold as well. “I was more than happy with the fact that he could lift me up against a wall and keep me there I didn’t care abou-”

Rye ran face first into the chest of someone on the other side of the threshold.

“Was that prick the reason why you—” Niles breathed, glancing down at the boy that ran into him and back up at the girl that was staring wide eyed at him, like she had seen a ghost. He continued, “—were screaming? Mrs. Mads sent me out to check on it. You’re loud.”

Jordyn didn’t know how to react. While her best friend had many people that wanted to sleep with him, the one he wanted to sleep with badly, was the boy he just ran face first into. Niles didn’t back away and he even had his hand on Rye’s lower back, making sure he didn’t fall. JJ couldn’t help but blush for her friend. What a predicament to be in! How was he going to get out of this one? “I am… going over there. Catch you soon RyeRye.” Instead of saving her friend she decided to give him privacy so he can say whatever naughty things that were on his mind. Wait, no JJ. This wasn’t the time or place for that. Even so, she was going to give Rye space. He could use it so he could take in all that was Niles Sinclair.

“Are you okay?” Niles asked his dainty classmate as the curly haired black girl pranced away.

Rye had shot JJ’s retreating form a very clear don’t leave me look of panic, but his best friend, the traitor, never even turned around. Biggie’s whiskers were twitching against his neck and Rye was trying desperately to focus on that odd feeling instead of the warmth blooming from Niles’ contact point on his lower back. Instead of the mortification at the realization that Niles just heard him say he liked to be held up against walls. He would be getting back at her for this later.

“Loud? Sorry, yeah. I, uhm,” Rye wasn’t blushing. Someone doing something as little as touching him never made him blush. Yet he could feel heat creeping into his cheeks, especially when he realized he had put his hands up between them to catch himself at the same time Niles had steadied him with his hand on his back, and they were resting far too comfortably against the taller boy’s chest. He dropped his hands in embarrassment. Why was it so hot in here all the sudden? “I- yeah, I’m fine, you’re pretty comfy to run into.”

For once in your life, shut the fuck up, Gavriel. Please

The nonchalant gaze of the other boy watched Rye carefully. He couldn’t help but give a small smile as he shared an intent stare with his acquaintance. This wasn’t something Niles expected to happen to him this early in the morning but here he was, holding his cousin’s lover. “And you’re nice to hold,” Niles teased back, playing along with Rye. This was all good fun and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find Rye’s expression cute. “You know,” Niles continued, sliding his hand off and putting it to his side. He took a step back to let his shorter classmate breathe. “There’s a mouse in your shirt.” At this point, Biggie found its way in Rye’s flannel and started crawling down until he dropped on the floor. “And now on the floor.”

Biggie ran off.

“That’s- honestly sorry that’s JJ’s problem,” Rye answered, watching disconnectedly as the mouse ran in the same direction his mother had disappeared. It barely even registered to him nowadays that rodents chilling on someone’s person may be considered weird. He honestly just couldn’t believe the little shit had also abandoned him to this trainwreck of an interaction. On his part, at least, because Niles’ initial comment had done a wonderful job of turning any remaining areas of his face bright red. There were so many responses he wanted to give. Then don’t let me go, then hold me closer, tighter. Forget the mouse, I want you under my shirt. And so many more. However, all that came out was a stumbled, “Being held is nice.”

He was never going to recover from this. His voice had fucking cracked, wobbled like a tightrope walker over a dark precipice. He didn’t know why he was even entertaining himself, or why Niles was entertaining him at all. Rye and AJ were fucking, AJ and Niles were cousins, he had no doubt that Niles was aware of what was going on, but that smirk on the taller boy’s face was too playful to not be leaning into flirtation. Normally, Rye was the one wearing that smirk, luring someone in until they were hooked on him all the way through to the next morning when he slid out of bed and out of their minds. Except for those few that kept him around. Even when he’s been on this end of things with people like Decky, Helen, and AJ who were just as talented flirts as he was, no one had ever made him stumble over his words unless their lips were involved in the process. Well, Helen that first time in the media center but mostly because it had initially been her maliciously intimidating him and she had been both terrifying and incredibly attractive, which is a totally different situation.

“I’m sorry that was so stupid,” He mumbled into his chest, chin tucked in shame and unwilling to see the other boy’s face judging him for acting so ridiculous. Rye couldn’t be any more obvious with this crush, and as a serial flirt and bedhopper, he was honestly a bit disgusted with himself, unsure of just what made Niles Sinclair so different. So effective.

The other boy, a doctor’s son, just like Rye, redirected the conversation. It was as if he could read what was happening or he was good at picking up social cues. “The party, tomorrow.” He asserted, letting his voice carry in the space between them. He didn’t go over an octave. All Niles did was enunciate and fixed his brown eyes on Rye’s face, looking only at him. Hooking his thumbs in his jeans, he leaned his weight to his right and asked, “Are you going?”

“Yeah,” Rye answered in confusion, tilting his head. Of course he was going, Rye’s been to damn near every party he could logically get to ever since he moved here halfway through eighth grade. Parties were where he let loose, where he found people willing to have him, and where the way he tended to act was actually seen as somewhat acceptable. Unlike most people’s opinions on highschool parties, to Rye they were a sacred space where he did and felt his best. Occasionally, the vibes of the party would be enough for him and he’d go home alone, to the house that was always empty because of his mother’s crazy schedule, and he’d put his music on loud and open his latest book. Some nights, the parties were enough that he was actually okay with being alone with himself.

They were rare.

“Oh! Are you going?” He realized he’d barely responded to Niles’ question and the boy was still staring at him as Rye was chewing on his lip while lost in thought. He tried not to get his hopes up that this was actually leading to something, but he was hopeless in more ways than one.

In response Niles rolled his eyes and admitted (a bit unenthused at the fact), “Unfortunately.” Niles wasn’t like his cousin at all. Where AJ partied hard, Niles found peace at home or literally anywhere else. Where AJ got off with surrounding himself with others, Niles would much rather be alone. Where AJ screamed and roared, being the hype people didn’t ask for but clearly needed, Niles chose to keep quiet. Stay in his lane. Avoid the spotlight, at all cost, which was ironic when you considered who his best friends were. AJ and him? They chose to live different lifestyles and that was okay but this was the year he promised his friends he would try new things and stop being a judgy asshole.

This party was his first attempt to live a little.

Niles didn’t find the idea of parties, which was basically a place for teens to lack standards and self respect, as intriguing. Drink booze? Why was that worth his time? He could get whiskey out of his dad’s liquor cabinet. Smoke some weed or snort some coke? Nah, he’d leave that to his cousin. Fuck someone? Yeah, he’ll pass. They probably had an STD. Still, even with how grumpy Sinclair was, he seemed to ease at the thought of knowing Rye would be there. “My friends want me to go. I spent this past week listening to them both bitchin’ so yes, I’ll be there. I’m glad you’ll be there too. It’s good to know I’ll have someone worth talking to.”

“Oh, great!” Rye replied while perking up at the casual compliment, catching himself as he went to lean into Niles space and shrinking in on himself a bit instead. ’Control yourself,’ His father had always said, holding him out at arms length with strong fingers digging firmly into his shoulders whenever Rye would try and seek comfort with him the same way he did his ma. ’Not everyone wants some klutz falling into their space. Act like a man and stand firm.’ Rye didn’t know if Niles would be so forgiving if he fell into his chest twice today, and the conversation had at least been steered away from the earlier embarrassment he’d made of himself. Wringing his hands close to his chest, noticeably quieter, Rye smiled largely at Niles and offered without thinking, “Yeah, come and find me I’ll-”

Be with AJ, you dumbass. Rye’s smile froze as he remembered the situation once again. Niles was just looking for a friend, a life raft in the sea of chaos that was a Green party. Rye could be that, just that. It would be fine.

“I’ll probably be everywhere at least once, so I’ll keep an eye out for you too, yeah?”

“So you don’t want me to find you?” Niles raised his eyebrow, catching on Rye’s sentence shift.

Well that’s embarrassing. Called out so simply.

“I’m, I mean it’s just that…” Rye hated liars, so naturally he didn’t like to be one either. A bit of omission was fine. Like how AJ was omitting his rekindled situationship with Jamie, more likely out of sheer forgetfulness than any malicious intent. It’s not like Rye couldn’t just ask either, but really it didn’t matter to him. They were absolutely no strings attached and both of them were free to do whatever they wanted, and whoever they wanted, regardless of the nights they spent holding each other together when no one else was there to. Rye had already attempted his omission and Niles had caught him in the act, he wasn’t one to continue to bluster through something after that. “I’m gonna be with AJ most of the night, and at parties we’re both pretty loud and high energy which I know isn’t your thing…I can switch on and off no problem so I figured if I saw you it would be easier.”

“Message received,” Niles answered, giving a nod and checking his wrist watch. “Didn’t you come in with a friend? Don’t want to take too much of your time so I’ll catch you later.” The other boy gave a lazy salute before walking around Rye and leaving the library.

Was that okay? Rye wondered, suddenly very aware of the strong beating in his chest. That didn’t feel okay. Did I fuck it up? Did he leave because I upset him? Of course I did, of course I fucked up. His throat began to feel a bit restricted, every anxious, harsh swallow feeling like sandpaper rubbing together. Should he have lied? Niles left very abruptly, and Rye didn’t do well with those types of departures. His hands shook as he continued to wring them together like it would squeeze out the panic, distracting from the way his legs suddenly seemed numb, tingling so intensely with the sudden flooding chemical reaction that he swore he’d vibrate through the floor if he were a comic book character.

He needed his best friend, but he couldn’t move. His breath was coming in short and he could feel tears burning at his eyes as he stared mutely at the closed door. He knew he was an overthinker, but the way Niles had dropped any hint of flirtation in his posture and tone as soon as AJ’s name left Rye’s lips was a pretty clear indicator that it wasn’t just his skewed perception of things. People could probably see him right now, probably saw him just crash and burn in a spectacularly un-Rye-like manner. His tinnitus was ringing like crazy, weren’t his earbuds in? He could feel them resting in his ears, now almost painful while the skin there burned in mortification, but he couldn’t hear anything past the suddenly sharp, tinny tone that had taken over. He ripped them out frantically.

There was subtle movement behind him where someone put headphones on him and Placeholder by The Story So Far was playing. Gently, feminine hands, with sharp, long black nails placed themselves on Rye’s shoulders and eased his body to turn around. When Rye was facing her, Helen brought him close, holding him tightly, grounding him. “Breathe,” she whispered into his ear.

Rye let out a wordless sob as he felt Helen’s arms around him, keeping him from shaking out of his skin. He buried his face into her shoulder much in a similar manner to how he had with JJ earlier. He was trying to breathe, he really was, it was just that suddenly air really hurt and his throat didn’t want to open up to accept any. He tried to focus, eyes shut tight as he tried to narrow in on everything that made Helen, Helen.

Her pop-punk song was playing in his ears, her headphones much more efficient at blocking out the outside world and overpowering his internal noise than his little plastic earbuds ever could be. The melody was simple and with that key whine that helped make pop-punk what it is, making it identifiable and easier to regulate to. Her sharp nails ran soothing circles and lines along his back and head, helping uncoil tense muscle as she did so. She ran a little hotter than most people, throwing off heat like a radiator that always had Rye cuddling closer to her no matter how hot the actual temperature was, and she always smelled so enticingly of vanilla and amaretto, his nose unable to really separate the cherry and pistachio scents. Thinking of it had him taking an aborted breath, but it was better than the nothing he’d been able to pull in before. Eyes still screwed shut, Rye shook pathetically while enveloped in Helen’s protective hold.

“I-” His next attempt earned him a wheezed gasp of oxygen, and Helen’s scent flooded his system like a cleanser. His lip wobbled and he bit it harshly to force it to stop, drawing another harsh breath in past his gritted teeth. “^{I fucked up, Hellie.}”

Helen quieted him, stroking him methodically. “You don’t know that so don’t think that.” She felt his soft curls, twirling a few strands with her fingers, grasping him and steadily breathing. She allowed him to feel her chest move with each controlled inhale and exhale. Helen was calm and collected. Unbothered and unphased. She may be a mythic bitch but for Gavriel Shomer, she was tender, kind, and careful. She was observant and soft. Soft for her usual rep where aggression and anger defined her. Helen, at least for Rye, was vibrating with love. “The rat almost met the sneakers of Malcolm.” She snapped her gum, that hopefully hid, even if subtly, her smoker’s breath. “Don’t worry, it’s with your friend. The rat girl. Do you want to go to her?” She calmly offered, her hands continued to soothe and stroke. A constant motion. A repetitive action to show she was there and she cared. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Malcom’s a dick,” Rye mumbled into her collarbone, understanding just enough of her words through the music thanks to how aware he was of her voice and the vibrations he could feel from her throat as she spoke. He gripped her tighter. “Rat girl is named JJ. And yes please.”

“Okay, Sprinkles. I’ll take you to her.”

In the farthest corner of the library, where the beanie bags were, JJ laid out sprawled with Biggie splooting on her chest. She wasn’t a good friend for leaving Rye like that but what else did he want her to do? Stare and watch while he puts his foot in his mouth? If she was there, she was 99 percent sure Niles would’ve only stayed for seconds. If Rye seemed occupied, Niles would’ve let him be. It was something she noticed the timid, handsome boy did whenever they were in a shared space. As far as JJ could see, Niles Sinclair only had two friends and his cousin. Everyone else? He likely thought were okay but not once did he see him actively interact with anyone. That is until Rye decided to sit next to him.

If Niles was an introvert, and let's be real, he totally seemed it even if he was charming and good with words, then the more people that surrounded him the less open he’d be. Her taking a swift exit was for Rye’s benefit! It was a calculative move. She hoped he understood. If he didn’t, damn. What would she do to get him to forgive her? Buy him his favorite dessert at that fancy bakery? Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. Yeah, actually, that was kind of brilliant. She’d keep that in her back pocket just in case she needed to cover her tail.

When the person on JJ’s mind and his gothic supernatural entity appeared, coming from an aisle of many, many horror books, she sat up, making sure Biggie slid down her shirt and to her hands. Observing the two in front of her, she blinked twice and tilted her head; a frown immediately appeared on her face. She didn’t want to bring Rye into another panic attack so instead she made room on the beanie for him, holding Biggie with one hand, against her chest, and patting the beanie with her other, mouthing: “Come.”

At the sight of his best friend, Rye’s fragile dam broke once more, his puffy eyes again filled with tears and face screwed up in regret. Not letting go of his death grip on Helen’s hand, he stumbled forward and dropped harshly down onto the cushion, falling into JJ and curling up to her as the beanie shifted beneath their bodies. Slowly, his fingers detangled from Helen’s and his arm fell across JJ’s middle in a desperate squeeze, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still seeking contact from the goth too. Almost subconsciously, his leg extend out until his shoe was in touching Helen’s, making sure she was still there while he couldn’t see her or hear her from their new distance. Brokenly, his insecurity on full display, he whimpered the need Helen had already reassured him on into JJ’s soft curls.

“^{Please don’t leave me alone.}”

Fuck her. Helen wasn’t planning on staying in the library but here Rye needed her. She looked down at her dress, corset and all, and blew a little strand out of her face. “I’m going to this chair, right here. Literally next to you. I expect you both to pick me up once first period is over.” Shuffling to the beanie near the two others, Helen glanced behind her at the low chair and her dress. She dropped down and laid back, trying her best to not ruin her hair. She reached out her hand to grab Rye’s before closing her eyes and listening to the atmosphere. Helen truly did look like a beautiful corpse bride on a beanie bag.

”^Please…”

“I don’t think I can even if I wanted to,” JJ teasingly admitted. Rye completely took over her space, making sure she couldn’t get away. Biggie found his way nestled between both their necks, ready for a nap just like the dead woman. “Now. Do you want to talk about it or do you want to just lay here for a bit?”

“I don’t wanna cry again,” Rye answered, which was his tired way of saying ‘just lay here for a bit’. He squeezed Helen’s hand and focused on the steady rise and fall of Biggie’s bitty body against his pulsepoint. He could feel a bit of steady vibrations from where his feet rested on the thin carpet and he cracked exhausted eyes open to see Mrs. Mads casually wheeling an incredibly full book return cart in front of their little alcove, effectively giving them a privacy wall against the outside world. She pretended not to even notice them until she saw the boy’s eyes on her, and then she let a warm smile overtake her face and winked at him, holding her finger up to her lips before walking away as his eyes shut again.

Kids needed their rest, after all.

[smarty0114]

_{TIMESTAMP: Just after “Typecast” and "A Brief Flash of Imperfection"
LOCATION: Bleachers
Featuring: Levi “Cui Bono?” Green-Locke & Jamie “Wow I Didn’t Know I Could Be Outsnaked” Callaghan}

---

---

Despite the spot waiting for him in homeroom, Levi headed outside towards the football field, Butler close behind. He needed the air, even though he’d never admit it, and he wanted the peace and quiet. Besides, it was hard to tell Levi that he needed to be anywhere, when his name was being lended out to more buildings on campus than he could keep track of. He stormed up the bleachers, long slender legs sending clangs ringing out across the empty field.

Anger and panic were not unfamiliar to Levi. If he had been back at home, he would’ve had Butler find him something to break. Unfortunately, he was at school so Butler could only follow him outside, then stand and watch as Levi ground his teeth together and stared down at the football field from his perch atop the bleachers. Mr. Mackenzie’s words were still floating around his mind, taking a knife to his ego and cutting it into fine ribbons, almost as well as his mother did. He had four years of perfection under his belt, and now it was crumbling to ash and drifting off into the wind. Sure, he would be okay, but he didn’t want to be okay; he wanted to be the best. That’s what Green’s were, after all.

That’s what this campaign would be. He had fought tooth and nail to be…mediocre, apparently, but he still had time. He hadn't heard back from Naomi, but he’d already begun drawing up a mental list of artists to call later, to request mockup flyer designs. Busy, important people who would drop everything when the name ‘Green’ scrolled across their phone screen. Nothing but the best for him and his girl. He and Naomi would send Katie Callaghan running back to Scotty Boy, and maybe just maybe, he’d finally feel like his life hadn’t just been something that happened to him.

Levi’s musings were interrupted by the clang of shoes on the bleachers. Slow and smooth, his gaze trailed down to Jamie Callaghan, stomping his way up the metal steps. Great. Levi flipped his sunglasses down, and trained his eyes back on the field. “You’re disturbing my peace, Callaghan.”

Jamie came to a stop with a huff, his breathing faster than normal. Had he run here? “We need to talk.”

“Do we need to talk, or do you need to talk?” Levi peered down at the boy, bored already. Jamie was much more entertaining when he was being useful, and ever since their deal last year, he’d been decidedly less so.

The disgruntled, wannabe Anderson Cooper scoffed as he took a seat. “We need to talk because I’m calling in my favor.” Jamie looked up at Butler, wary. “Does he have to be here?”

Levi kept his face stoney. “Of course he does, he’s my emotional support Butler.” Levi could think of a thousand and one things that Jamie might want from him, all of them juvenile and hardly worth his time. Jamie, much as he liked to hide it, was driven by emotion in a way that Levi found exhausting. It was all so predictable. Two things motivated the boy standing in front of him: ambition, and insecurity. They were easy things to take advantage of, sure, and unlike Trixie, he didn’ balk at doing what he was paid for. Still, he was a tiring addition to his life, one that he might’ve regretted more, if he hadn’t been so damn effective. “Spit it out then, before all of your fucking energy starts to ruin my day.”

“Ethan’s party. I want AJ off the list.”

Levi smiled. Who would’ve guessed that Jamie and AJ would crash and burn like the Challenger? He had, for one. “AJ moved on? Shocking.” Levi’s voice dripped with cruel sarcasm as he finally turned to face Jamie. “Is the hickey someone else’s work then?”

“Shut up, are you gonna help me or not?”

Levi sighed, and leaned back against the chain link fence that enclosed the bleachers. “You know, I do love being of service, but this one’s out of my incredibly soft hands,” he said, waving into the air to prove his point. “It’s Ethan’s party, which means the guest list is not nearly exclusive enough, and not likely to get better. Trust me, if I had any sway over those, I’d have exercised it by now.” He shrugged, unfazed by the demand in Jamie’s voice. “Besides, cui bono? I don’t need beef with the Gearheads, not right now.” He figured he would never hear the end of it from Monarch if he tried to excommunicate her friends from anything, and truth be told, she scared him more than Jamie. Not to mention, he was a politician now. He couldn’t go banning a bunch of his constituents from his family’s vineyard.

Jamie didn’t seem to love that answer. His scowl deepened, his eyes narrowed. He looked cute when he was angry like this; if he’d been a stranger, Levi might’ve tried to sleep with him once upon a time. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a stranger, he was Jamie Callaghan, and he was so tightly wound that even Levi didn’t fancy the idea of taking a risk unwinding him. “Cui bono? Seriously? What did I do all your dirty work for if you were just gonna cui bono me? Figure it the fuck out, or I tell everyone what I know.”

Another grin broke out across Levi’s face. “And what exactly do you know, Jamie?” Jamie opened his mouth to respond, but Levi silenced him with a raised finger. “Here’s what I know. The only copies of those pictures are on a flash drive in your possession. The only editing that was done to them, was done on a school computer, in the wee hours, on one of your cute little Newsie’s accounts. The only proof you have, that I did anything to anyone, is your word against mine? Are you ready to take that risk?” Jamie stayed silent, stewing upon the realization that he had been outplayed. “So I think, if Amy Kwon’s name ever leaves your mouth, it should be followed by the words, ‘is a treacherous bitch,’ okay?”

“You did my dirty work because you wanted to do it, because it’s fun for you. Be real with yourself. The favor was just an added bonus, a slap on the ass on your way out. I’m not a genie, I don’t grant wishes.” He laughed softly before continuing, his voice overflowing with condescension. “You want more eyes on your paper, or a new boy toy, I’m your guy? This stupid, petty shit? No. Besides, getting AJ banned from this party won’t stop him from crashing it anyways. Or the next one. Or the one after that. You’re smart, you should know that.”

Jamie groaned, a sound of resignation that burst from his throat in place of the violent scream he wanted to let out into the ether. It was music to Levi’s ears; it was a symphony of defeat. “You’re right. Fuck. I just–”

Levi held a hand up, stopping Jamie’s divulgence in its tracks. “Stop. We aren’t friends, we’re business partners, and I don’t want to hear about how AJ makes you into an insane person. I’ve got plenty second-hand embarrassment just watching you.”

Jamie almost laughed. “Well, thank you for absolutely nothing, Levi, I’m so glad this partnership has borne such bountiful fruit. I suppose I’ll let you know when I have a favor worthy of your time.”

“Y’know, maybe if you didn’t sound like an encyclopedia with control issues, AJ would’ve stuck around. Just a thought.” Jamie got up to leave and as he did, Levi decided to offer up one more piece of sage advice, less out of any goodness in his heart, and more out of a desire to watch the world burn. “Best way to get over someone, is to get under someone new,” he shouted after Jamie, earning him an over the shoulder middle finger. He enjoyed a good laugh for his efforts. Ugh, he’d needed that.

“That seemed unnecessary.” Butler’s voice was stone cold, gravelly, the kind of stern voice you’d expect from a tall, well built man that was paid too much money to babysit a spoiled child. “You didn’t need to gloat.”

Levi snorted. “He thought he had something on me, Butler. I had to remind him who he was dealing with.”

Butler didn’t sigh. He didn’t need to. The silence spoke volumes.

[Melissa]

_{TIMESTAMP: 5:30AM -7:30 AM
Location: The Cage Rink & Performance Center → Ms. Belmonte’s Classroom
Starring: Jack “Mac” McDonough}

There was nothing better than the sound of freshly sharpened skates cutting across clean ice. Well, at least for Jack McDonough.

The sun had yet to crest the horizon as the blonde haired boy laced up his Bauers for his usual early morning practice. At the ungodly hour, the rink was empty aside from the first shift janitors and himself, but that was just the way he liked it. Being there on his own gave him free reign, the entirety of the ice at his disposal. Sure, he had to grease a few elbows to make it happen, call in a few favors, but it was well worth it.

Each morning ran like clockwork. He spent the first 10 minutes warming up. It was a step that most players often overlooked, but Jack knew better; he wasn’t about to risk a season ending injury from lack of stretching. He often used the quiet time and the stillness to think introspectively and set intentions. It was the only kind of mindfulness he did; hell would surely freeze over before the kid tried meditation.

The next 30 minutes were spent running drills. Today he had wanted to focus on edgework, stick handling, and accuracy, so he divided up the block into thirds. Admittedly though, he took some extra time for accuracy drills because he wanted to practice his Michigan goal. Every good player had something unique up their sleeve, and if he could score one during regulation, it’d be legendary. If Bedard could do it, so could he.

Some players bitched and moaned about running drills. They argued that nothing could ever prepare you for how a real game would go down; the split-second choices you’re forced to make and the unforeseen circumstances. But for Jack, practice made perfect. Sure, he had keen instincts on the ice and was fast as hell, but none of the greats made it as far as they did on only their speed and intuition. No, he was trying to go places. Be someone. Jack wanted to don the ‘C’ proudly on his chest, be the athlete on the Wheaties box, the guy with a statue outside of the Arena, and the player who’s number hung on a banner in the rafters when he eventually retired.

Mac wanted it all, and he was sure as shit going to do everything he could to make it happen.

The last 20 minutes were spent getting his heartrate up, line sprints. From the boards to the first blue line and back, to the center line and back, to the second blue line and back, and finally the length of the rink. Mac was a bullet on blades, with strong legs and quick feet, and it showed. He made it look easy, gliding from one end of the ice to the other. It was like breathing for him, second nature. His parents had put him on skates soon after he could walk, enrolled him in lessons as early as the league would let them, and it had paid off. He was a natural, a prodigy.

Satisfied with his work for the day, Jack called it quits and headed for the locker room. As he stood under the spray of the shower, washing the now sticky sheen of sweat from his body, his mind drifted to the year ahead. He was a senior now, the weight of expectations heavier than ever before. College scouts would be watching his every move, dissecting his performance with a critical eye, and Draft day quickly approached. But the blonde refused to let the pressure consume him; instead, he saw it as an opportunity to prove himself worthy. And besides, a year of debauchery and fun with his buddies awaited before the real world set in. And you could bet your ass that Mac was going to make the most of it.

It didn’t take him long to get dressed, packing up the discarded smelly, well-worn gear into his duffel that would be sure to make his mother gag later, and depart the rink. He haphazardly threw the bag into the back of his Jeep and set off for school, definitely pushing the speed limit to make it on time. Last thing he needed was another tardy on his record. He coasted into the parking lot at 7:26am and sailed into Ms. Belmonte’s room at 7:30am just as the bell sounded.

Jack gave her a devious smirk, “Right on time, of course. You know I’d never keep you waiting Ms. B.” The woman simply sighed, not bothering to deign him with a reply as her homeroom and students were always this exhausting. The blonde shrugged.

He’d woo her… one day.

Scanning the class, he spotted Benji in the back with a free desk adjacent that the boy assumed was meant for him. He wasted no time making his way over, collapsing into the chair with an audible exhale before turning to his friend. “Big weekend ahead, Benj. You ready?”

[Fabricant451]

Maggot Brain

As the faucet in the bathroom finished filling up the sink, Naomi Davis looked into the mirror and only saw cracks. The bathroom on this corner of the third floor at this time of morning was thankfully empty as she knew it would be. Bathrooms were always empty when Naomi Davis entered them, just that sometimes it took a moment of tapping her foot on the tile while one of her entourage cleared their throat in case the stragglers didn’t get the hint. Rare were the moments that Naomi used a public bathroom, but even rarer were the times when girls like Naomi used the bathroom for its intended purpose. When homeroom ended, Naomi told Lottie not to wait up but she didn’t care if Lottie understood or not. She might not have even said anything, she was out of the classroom with the speed of someone who was looking at the clock and packed their bags with five minutes left before class was dismissed.

Naomi left the classroom, closed her eyes, took a breath, and walked. Normally, whenever she walked these halls, the other students watched her move as if in slow motion, always looking forward, posture perfect, heels clacking, entourage matching her intensity, only the foolish and the ignorant crossing in front of her. There was something different about her gait, it was swift but awkward, as if she had barely walked in heels before and was trying not to show it. Her face was stoic, but even she could tell that her lips were quivering like her heart was racing and she was on the verge of breaking into a hyperventilated onslaught of tears. Her only consolation was that everyone in the halls parted in her presence like an emergency siren on the street or a police escort on a crowded road. With everyone getting out of her way, it meant less of a chance of anyone trying to be brave and speak up to her, but the closer she got to her destination the more she wished she had the support of her court to serve as a buffer.

Without them there was only Naomi and when there was only Naomi there was nothing to focus on, no conversation between Angel and Indy, no off handed remark by Lottie, no grounding hand on the back from Levi. Nothing. Just Naomi. Just Naomi and the students who were conditioned to get out of her way. Just Naomi and the crippling realization that she was alone in the halls, a boat adrift at sea that was taking on water. For one single moment Naomi paused and closed her eyes again. If Levi were here he’d probably find a way to ask what was wrong without asking what was wrong and Naomi would reply nothing and their procession would continue.

But there was only Naomi and as she opened her eyes and quickened her pace she was acutely aware that there were eyes watching, lips whispering, rumors spreading, questions being asked. Where was the rest of the Hive? Where was she going? Why was she walking so quickly. Was she shaking? Were her lips quivering? Did she really wear that outfit today? Who does she think she is? Does she know she’s worse than Satan? Why do you think she’s single? Did you know her last boyfriend broke up with her? Who would want to date her anyway? Did you hear her daddy bought her those lips? Have you heard her taste in music? What is she, like sixty years old? What a loser what a bitch what a loser what a phony what a loser what a BITCH what a PHONY what a LOSER what a -

The water in the bathroom sink spilled onto the floor as Naomi’s head dunked itself beneath the surface. Bubbles rose to the top as she opened her mouth and tried to speak. No words. No sound. Just the weight of the world keeping her head under the water while her finger gripped the corners of porcelain just hard enough to make her palms go white. If she were squeezing her hands any harder without the sink there to catch her ire, she would have pierced flesh. Naomi closed her eyes as more bubbles bounded for the surface. Even with eyes closed underwater she could feel the ripples and the splashes and the waves. When the bubbles left her mouth this time, they popped and her ears shook with what she heard. A voice not her own but calling her name. A voice belonging to a shadowed figure obscured by light. “naomi Na…O….mi naOMI…NAOMI!”

Naomi Davis lifted her head out of the water and looked around in a panic. Where was she? She didn’t like it here. She was going to die she was going to die she hated this she hate she hate she hate follow the voice what voice where’s the voice where… “Naomi!” Naomi lifted the goggles from her eyes and looked towards the light as the figure beckoned her with open arms. Naomi shook her head, teeth chattering, arms flailing, feet kicking back and forth but she was standing still. Floating still. “Come on, Naomi, you’re right there!” The voice continued, the arms of the shadowy figure slowly coming into focus.

The voice belonged to a woman and Naomi pushed and paddled her way towards the woman, who bent down and helped lift Naomi up into the warm embrace of a towel. The chattering of teeth stopped only to be replaced by the full body shivering as the gentle breeze of the open air made the water dripping from Naomi feel that much colder; but nothing was as cold as the gaze Vanessa Davis was giving her young daughter. “Dry off. Go again.”

“I don’t wanna.” Naomi was running the towel over her hair. The sound in her left ear was a little fuzzy but the book had said that could happen while swimming and the fuzz didn’t make it any more difficult to hear the sounds of laughter and splashes as kids did cannonballs and jumped into the pool and splashed each other. Out of the corner of her eye, Naomi could see the large banner hanging from the awning of the roof where the pool normally sold ice cream and soda pop. ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAOMI!’ it said, and behind the banner, working the grill behind the counter was an employee who drew the short straw as he flipped burgers and checked on hot dogs and fried chicken strips for the guests. It was supposed to be her dad handling the cooking, with a bottle of beer in hand, an apron with some funny saying, and flip flops with socks. But he wasn’t here.

Half the kids in the pool didn’t even know Naomi, they just had the good fortune to be in her elementary school class. The other half didn’t know her either, but they were told that Dwayne Johnson was gonna show up and for that level of fame they could pretend to be friends with Naomi Davis and even if he didn’t show up…it was an afternoon at the pool and it came with an ice cream cake. But Naomi wasn’t seeing the kids and how much fun they were having without her. At her own birthday party. All she saw was the look of utter disappointment on her mother’s face. “What was that?” She asked, snatching the towel from Naomi’s grasp so quickly that Naomi was worried it would be snapped against her.

“I wanna go play.” Naomi didn’t even want the party at the pool. She hated the pool. She wanted it at Six Flags and she didn’t know what her parents did but she knew they could afford to rent the whole park out for her birthday so she could go on all the rides and have a big cotton candy. They could take a school bus and bring her whole grade and for one day she’d be on top of the world in the eyes of everyone. But the pool was closer. The pool was cheaper. The pool was chosen for her.

“Play? Play with who?” Her mother asked and Naomi gestured towards the classmates in the pool who were having water wars by swinging pool noodles at each other like they were in Star Wars. “And how are you going to play with them? You can’t swim, Naomi. That’s what I’m trying to teach you.”

“They’re in the not deep part. I’m fine in that part. I wanna go play.” As Naomi turned to join her classmates in the pool, a hand clamped on her wrist as icy as handcuffs. “You’re hurting, momma.” Naomi was pulled back and Vanessa Davis crouched down to look her daughter closer in the eyes.

“You don’t get to play. Not until I say so. You don’t know these kids and you don’t owe these kids your time. They’re not here for you, they’re here for that.” Vanessa pointed to the birthday cake on the picnic tables in the eating area. There weren’t even any presents, but Naomi suspected her mom kept them hidden from her. “Don’t waste your time trying to impress people who are lesser than you. But right now, you’re lesser than they are. Do you know why?” Naomi just shook her head slowly, her eyes looking down at the ground. “Because they can swim.”

“I didn’t want a pool party! I told you that! And where are my presents? It’s my birthday, there’s supposed to be -” Naomi’s protests were cut off by Vanessa gripping her fingers onto Naomi’s small, bare shoulder. “Momma, you’re hurting…”

“Stop complaining. You didn’t have to have a party at all. Throwing a tantrum won’t get you anywhere. You’re seven years old now. You’re a big girl, and what don’t big girls do?”

“Cry.” Naomi and her mother spoke at the same time and the grip to Naomi’s shoulder loosened. The seven year old on the verge of crying closed her eyes and pushed the tears back inside. Where they belonged. “Can I go play now?”

“No.” Before Naomi could protest, she felt the wind leave her lungs as her mother’s hands shoved into her chest. Naomi stumbled and fell backwards. The water slapped her body and her arms and legs jutted upward, putting her body in a ‘U’ shape as she sank. Deeper and deeper. The light overhead got further and further away until all she saw was black. Weightless. Deeper and deeper.

Down

to

the

bottom

When Naomi surfaced the sights were familiar. Salmon pink walls. The scent of lavender. Otis Redding playing from a speaker wired throughout the house.She looked down at the bathwater and didn’t recognize the legs in front of her. Her feet were bruised, her big toe was hanging on by a thread and the memories came flooding back. She was thirteen. It was her birthday. Her father had left half a carton of Haagen-Dazs in the freezer but it had been there for a week. Naomi knew one of her father’s credit card numbers and so for this particular birthday he had bought for her a small pizza, a slice of cake, and roller skates. The roller skates had been why her foot was so bruised; they had been a tight fit and by the time she realized her foot was swollen and her toe was fucked, it had already been hours. She skated through the pain, going so fast down the street that the wind wiped away her tears. She didn’t cry. She was a big girl.

In the bathtub she sank back under the water and the crooning sound of Cigarettes and Coffee became further and further muted and distant as once again she fell. The confines of the bathtub fell away and the bathwater joined the deep, dark depths of the ocean. Naomi was weightless but she kept sinking from the burden of responsibility. Again she heard the familiar voice beckoning her forward, that she was right there. Her name. Go again. Go again. Go again. Go. Go go go go go go go go go go go go.

Water splashed onto the tiled floor as Naomi lifted her head out of the sink and coughed. Her grip loosened on the porcelain corner as she took a step back, panting, heaving, face soaked with water that was dripping to the floor and expanding the puddle she had made. In the mirror her face was dry, her expression was cold and she was clicking the roof of her mouth; it was a stark contrast to how she knew she looked in the moment. A mess. A mess who needed to get a grip lest her own reflection continue to judge her just like her mother did.

“Fuck you.” Naomi spoke to the face in the mirror and the face responded in kind.

In her pocket was the phone with the unresponded message from Levi that brought about this particular episode. Running for office. Ever since freshman year, Naomi had been primed to be the next queen of Beverly Hills High School, a position she accepted without hesitation. She was perfect for it. People thought she was beautiful, she had money, she had connections, she could talk down to someone while staring them at eye level even if they were taller than her, she had people who opened doors for her in every sense of the word. Everyone knew her name, even if sometimes it was sandwiched between profanity and a hocked lob of spit onto the grass. But she could handle hatred. She wasn’t trying to impress the students she ruled over, but if they knew what a day in the life of Naomi Davis was like, they’d be impressed and not so quick to curse under their breath when she walked past.

Being at the top of the social hierarchy meant having to have fingers in every goddamn situation. Who was dating who while fucking who, who was persona non grata this month, who got on the lists, who to keep away from situations so as not to topple the balance of cliques and egos that was the ecosystem of high school. Was she perfect? No. Did things run smoothly? More or less. Did anyone even know how much she fucking did? No. They’d rather call her a bitch. That was fine. Words could never hurt her in a way that mattered and if they knew how difficult it was they would be apologizing. Not that she needed approval. She was taught not to worry about impressing people beneath her.

But social hierarchy was different from the political office of school. Naomi could make decisions on where to host parties but she could only merely suggest to the staff sweeping changes or policies. Previous student council leaders were content to let Naomi whisper suggestions and then take the heat when they got shot down or backfired. Maybe that was why no one wanted the damn job. When it came to being the president of the council it meant having to face the people she spent four years lording over. It meant having to stand in front of them and explain to them why she should be the one to dictate the next eight months of their lives.

It meant having to hear their words dead on.

It meant facing consequences.

It meant social suicide if she failed.

It meant having them push her into the pool.

It meant she had to impress people lesser than her.

The Naomi in the mirror could handle it. The Naomi in the mirror had already thought of a campaign and begun slandering her opponents. The Naomi in the mirror shook her head as she looked at the soggy-faced girl on the other side. The Naomi in the mirror was the Naomi that would leave this bathroom and be the Naomi that the staff and students interacted with. But that Naomi stepped away from the mirror and the one that took her place couldn’t tell if the water at the corner of her eyes was from the sink or her own tear ducts.

“Big girl. You’re a big girl. No tantrums. I can swim. I…I can swim.” Naomi closed her eyes and when she opened them the woman in the mirror nodded at what she saw. With a confident hand she reached into her pocket and looked at Levi’s message once again. There was only one response she could give.

To: Levi
They might as well start calling us Madam and Mister President

Before leaving the bathroom, Naomi took one last look in the mirror, but from her angle by the door the only thing she could see were the splashes of water streaking down the glass.

[BrutalBx]

_{LOCATION: Kim's Residence ➜ Plouf ➜ School Hallway
TIMESTAMP: Early morning, before Homeroom.
Text to Katie at the end @smarty0114}

____________________________________________________________________



____________________________________________________________________
_{@BrutalBx & @LovelyComplex}

One thing that someone could never accuse the Osso household of being was quiet. Vincent and Capri knew that they wanted a big traditional Italian family. So when they moved from New Jersey to LA when Vince got a big promotion, they knew that was the time to get started in fulfilling their dreams.

Robert was first, every inch looking just like his father: same temperament too. Quiet, subdued but authoritative. He served in the marines and was now working in private security, Clarissa was their darling, bright and clever. She was essentially a mirror to their mother. She was a teacher. Sienna was the middle child, a creative and highly intelligent young woman working in law. The baby of the family was Richard, a sophomore at BHHS, he was treated as such by his family, much to his own chagrin. Amidst the sea of Osso’s there was one more sibling, Anthony or as he liked to be called, Oz. The Osso’s did not believe in the concept of a black sheep in the family but if ever there was one, it was Ozzy.

With a wild mane of frizzy chocolate brown hair, tattoos on his arms and chest and a wardrobe that would not look out of place in the 1980’s, Oz was entering into his senior year of high school no longer the devout Italian catholic choir boy he was raised to be. Vincent blamed himself for this. Antonio Tiziano Osso had two Godfathers, one was his fathers best friend of many years, Tiziano Belmonte and the other was Jon Bongiovi, yes that Bon Jovi, whom Vince was neighbors with back in Perth Amboy, New Jersey. It didn’t take a genius to work out who was the bigger influence on young Anthony.

The large house was always in great chaos, with kids running around, grandkids running around, different genres of music blaring from every bedroom. It was messy and it was hectic but it was also fun. Ozzy was usually the last of the family to wake up, normally because he’d been out partying the night before or his Dungeons and Dragons campaign ran into the wee hours. However this first week back at BHHS had been different to the norm, Oz was one of the first up and out of the door. What changed this year? Well he had something to wake up for.

Her name was Kim.

Ozzy’s vintage Harley Chopper purred through the gleaming and shining streets of Beverly Hills as he rode his way towards his First Lady of Rock. He had his Rich Warlock guitar slung around his back, the stereo cranked up to eleven and the wind throwing his hair back like a God. Kim and Oz were two people that you could never picture together but then when you see them, they make all the sense they can in a fucked up world. She, the theatre beauty, perceptive and wise beyond her years. Somewhat of a wallflower in comparison to some of her more dramatic compatriots. Ozzy, a throwback rabble rouser with an army of freaks and geeks who hung upon his every word like he was the messiah of the misfits.

They were not meant to be together.

Yet on that fateful summer night, Kimber found herself alone at the Drive In, at the exact same time that Oz was called to help fix a mechanical fault. There she was, by herself, watching a damn monster movie. Maybe it was the way the old projector lit up her smile or that cute red skirt she was wearing but Ozzy couldn’t help but invite himself into her parents’ car that she had taken for the evening and find himself falling in love instantly. He had been touched by some ancient runic magic or maybe he had just listened to too many power ballads that day but either way, the last ceased to exist when he looked at her face.

The bike began to slow as Oz pulled into Kim’s street. He slowly came to a stop outside her house and already her neighbours were poking their judgemental heads out of their curtains to see the reprobate in their way to pristine looking cul-de-sac. “I’ll show you, ya fucking shitsticks.” With a wry smile on his face and throwing up the devil horns in full view, Ozzy turned up his radio and began to belt out the lyrics of Meatloaf's Bat Out Of Hell. Opera Rock was rock too bitch.

“The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling
Way down in the valley tonight
There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye
And a blade shining oh so bright.”

Where there was chaos, there was order. Disorder had a secret order, purpose and meaning and at times, chaos was more organized than order. Order could be too restrictive, rigid, and rigorous, while chaos could be too complex, confusing, and challenging. Together though? They made sense. They needed one another and balanced each other out in the end. Order, no matter how Kimber Benson looked at it, was an absolute necessity. She needed a routine. She needed her checklists. She needed minimal blemishes and minimal wrinkles. She needed things to make sense.

Reason being? Kim was never one for change or disruption during her day. Everything she did had a distinct flow to it. Her mind was chaotic enough with ideas constantly hitting her at random times that she absolutely needed everything else to stay in their place. Growing up it was her and her mother versus the world. She was able to dream big, create worlds and play make believe in her favorite place in the world: home. Things were simple. Her mother would write and she would curiously ask her questions and listen to her stories. She’d also scribble her own stories which at first was illegible because she didn’t know how to write. As she grew older and became literate, what she wrote was clear as day. When her pen met paper the ideas flowed like a free and flowing stream. Sometimes the ideas rushed out and spun like a whirlpool. And other times? The ideas fell into a black hole never to return again. Her chaotic mind, dazed and confused, overstimulated at the most inopportune moments. Her chaotic mind existed because she couldn’t help but dream. Her chaotic mind needed order.

When her mom met her step dad, which included a step brother, her world came crashing and she found herself outside her house, more often than not, with her best friend, Katie, who was a constant in her life. Constants were good. Constants were great. Constants meant nothing’s changed. In time she was able to adjust and accept her new family but it still took time. The next challenging obstacle that forced her to adjust was when Katie met Scott. Imagine having a friend for so long and then a boy comes around and takes her away from you. That, of course, was only how she perceived it due to her inability to accept change right away. Thankfully she had Niles who became a constant gradually and steadily freshman year. His mom’s death was a hard thing to process but she allowed herself to show up and be his constant, because as fragile as she can be, he needed stability, repetition and uniformity more than her. She’d like to think her hate for change became more manageable after that tragedy. Change was inevitable and it was up to her to continue onward and adjust. She had no choice but to adjust.

Now Kim was dating a boy, who she got more acquainted with during the summer, that was mayhem and madness incarnate. She didn’t expect to have company while watching Godzilla. He saw her and asked if he could join. She was lost for words and before she knew it, he was in her car, giving her a goofy smile and they were sharing popcorn. This simple chance encounter led to them exchanging phone numbers, texting all summer, and going on more dates than she could count. This was different for her. It was clearly a change but she liked it and that was new.

While she was more willing and open minded, there were times where Kim knew she was going to malfunction from his unpredictability, from his randomness, and from his rowdy behavior, and during those instances, he somehow knew how to handle her with care. It was different. It wasn't a bad different. It was just different. With her brother off to college and her parents on their annual anniversary trip, Kim had the house to herself. She didn’t tell her boyfriend because there were many factors she needed to consider like what if he wanted to stay over the night? What if she was tossed around by fate and suddenly they both were in the same bed and things escalated? What if they had… sex? Yeah, no, she couldn’t have that happen. Not yet. She didn’t know if she was ready or not.

It wasn’t that she was defensive either. Kim was a cautious girl and it seemed that Anthony Osso gave her this unusual impulse where she wanted to throw all caution out the door. With him, she could never predict what happens next and Kim liked knowing what happens next. She liked having a hold on the chaos. She liked the peace in knowing what to expect and understanding what she was feeling before she felt any feeling. With Anthony Osso, she was completely and utterly out of her element and the only thing she could do was go with the flow, hoping she didn’t drown in the process.

In a red cardigan, black skirt, knee high nude nylons, and ankle boots, Kim inched the front door to her house open to see Oz waiting for her on his bike (god, she still wasn’t used to riding on a motorcycle to school). He was howling and roaring, causing a mild disruption in her quiet, little neighborhood. He was unabashedly himself and he was happy. Handsome. Taking a quick breath, the dainty writer nodded, building up the courage to approach him, like she did everyday since they started to officially date. Exiting her house, closing it behind her and making sure it was locked, Kim met his gaze and gave a little smile. After tightening her backpack straps and securing her bag, she strolled to the boy, her heart skipping a beat the closer she got. “Good morning, Meatball,” she coyly greeted and teased. “I hope the ride here wasn’t too rough.”

"My dearest lady, what is life without a few speed bumps?” Ozzy smiled that goofy smile of his as he responded to his girlfriend in a mock English accent, which admittedly was not terrible. He climbed off of his bike, took one hand to his chest and swept the other out as he bowed his wild head of hair to the throne of his beloved.

Anthony knew Kim to be sensitive but had never truly understood the ins and outs of it until they began talking over the summer. It was part of the reason he was taken aback when their relationship progressed to where it currently was as boyfriend/girlfriend. Ozzy was mad, bad, dangerous to know and had been accused of everything from vandalism (he did it), theft (only a candy bar or five) and starting a cult (it was just a dungeon campaign but the nerds would do anything he said). If Beauty and the Beast truly existed, they were standing outside of Kimber Benson’s, out blasting classic rock.

Oz placed his hands on his girlfriend's waist and leaned on to gently kiss her soft cheek. “You look really pretty today.” The reality was simple, Anthony had fallen hard and fallen fast for Kim. The last thing he ever wanted to do was pressure her or make her feel in any way uncomfortable around him. He knew that PDA was not her thing, especially since there were so many who didn’t even know they were together yet, including Kim’s best friend. For her, the metal man was as soft as butter. On their first “date” at the drive in, when he invited himself to watch Godzilla with her; she said she thought he might be mean and scary, that stung. Even with his brand of chaos, the one thing Oz prided himself on was being a good man, a nice guy. He was always a gentleman, always polite, he just had a habit of unleashing a rabid tribe of frustrated geeks and freaks onto the populace. But mean and scary? That was an eye opener for sure.

"You ready?”

For this matter specifically, riding a motorcycle, Kim was wearing shorts under her skirt. She also made sure it was slim and straight fit to prevent flapping. She didn’t own many black articles of clothing and she didn't necessarily like wearing jeans. She made it work even if it was a little embarrassing. Nodding at her boyfriend, she grabbed his helmet hanging off the handle (he only brought one for her, which wasn’t safe at all since he should be wearing one too!) and gradually put it on her head, hoping her hair didn’t get ruined that much. She waited for Oz to get on his bike mounting from the left side. Watching him quietly, he shifted the bike upright and kicked up the side stand. He proceeded to glance at her which was her signal to get on. With Oz balanced, she did just that, following the steps he had gone over with her when they first started going to school together. As both of her feet rested on the foot pegs, Kim’s petite arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly. She was secured and: “Ready,” she finally answered.

”Then let’s rock.” Ozzy revved the engine multiple times before throwing up the devil horns and letting loose a Gene Simmons-eaque tongue for the neighbors to grimace at. He kicked the pedal and the Harley roasted into monstrous life. Anthony pulled the bike around the smooth circle that was the cul-de-sac before opening up the gas to allow for them to shoot out towards the rest of their day.

It might seem to most that Oz rode like a madman and in some respects he did. However with Kim on the back, he was not no way no how risking her safety. He just wouldn’t do it. The steel horse which acted as the young couple's chariot was his most prized possession next to the vintage guitar and leather jacket that Kim got him. Oz took such care of the beautiful machine, treating it finer the more gentle than he would a child. And he would know because he used to throw his brother Ricky around like he was a potato. It was fine, he had that disease that made his bones all weird, he could take it.

After a relatively short ride; Oz stopped the bike outside of Plouf, this hot little cafe just shy of the school grounds. Kim worked there, along with a few of their friends and it had the best breakfast pastries. Kimmy always liked to be early, so the early dawn couple had time before they had to be at school. The metal Lord hopped off the bike and once he had dusted himself off, slowly removed Kim’s helmet as she remained seated and hung it on the handle bars. “Look at you, absolutely perfect.” He smiled at her as his large hands came up to pat down a tiny amount of stray hairs adorning her auburn hair. “”You want breakfast or a coffee? My treat.”

Actively skipping over the compliment, she looked up at him. “Breakfast. Bacon, egg and cheese on an everything bagel, with OJ, please and thank you.” Kim was quick to answer, having finally gotten into a place in their relationship where she was willing to let him treat her. A month ago she would’ve rushed to pay and tell him that he didn’t need to, she could take care of herself, but with time she was able to put her pride down and let him treat her. She would be lying if she said she didn’t like how it made her feel, being taken care of. “We can get my discount too.” she said matter of factly, happy about the perks that came with the job. Intently their gaze lingered on one another. She wanted to kiss him but didn’t have the courage to initiate. Instead she gave him her sweet, serene and shy simper and broke the tension by heading in first. “Your lady is waiting and hungry.”

In some ways, it was the innocence of Kimber that really drew Oz in. It was captivating to watch her discover and feel things for the first time, things that she had walled herself off from. There was a kind of magic in the beholding of a person truly experiencing something that they never had before. There were small moments, like the one they just had, where he would look at her lips and she would look at his and he could tell by the sparkle on the big brown eyes that she wanted to kiss him but didn’t bring herself to. Not because she didn’t want to but the moment, the need and yearning, she hadn’t had that before. Oz was her first boyfriend, the first real one and he didn’t want her to regret that. The future was the future and he didn’t know what it held or what experiences were to follow for them as individuals and as a couple but he wanted to wait and find out.

He followed her into Plouf and watched her hand over the sexy ass black card which got her a decent discount. Usually it was Kim on the other side of the counter, or Penny or that new girl whose name he hadn’t learned to pronounce yet. Of course she ordered her breakfast bagel and juice without even a second blink, Kimmy was a creature of habit after all. ”Fried egg sandy for me, grazie gentilmente.” Ozzy tapped his phone on the card reader after the cashier had rung up their order and then returned his attention to Kim. ”They’ll bring it out to us, come on. I want to sit outside.” He nodded to the server with a smile. ”Cheers kemosabe.”

Oz soon led Kim to a tiny garden to the side of Plouf, they were the only ones there and the sun was perfectly glowing around them as he took a seat but kept a hold of her hand. ”Come here, sit.”

As they sat down, Kim took a moment to breathe and relax, placing her backpack by her foot. Her shoulders eased, her lips parted, and her heart steadied. The sun was warm. It gleamed down on her face and made her comfy and cozy. It wasn’t blinding, not yet at least. It was too early for the sun to be at its peak. She took in the fresh air and smiled to herself. She loved mornings. The quiet, the nature, and the peace of it all. This would be her favorite part of the day when she could sit, whether alone or with Oz, and enjoy the calm. Mornings were lovely and it made her appreciate the little things. It made her happy.

Daydreaming was something that came often to Kim, so much so that she sometimes didn’t realize when she was in a trance, stuck in her world of imagination. It wasn’t until she brought her attention from a flower with a bee resting on it to the person sitting across from her that she noticed how careful Oz was watching her. How focused and unwavering. His mind didn’t wander when he was with her and that was different to say the least. To be all someone thought about in a moment, she couldn’t really fathom that he loved her like that. Why would he love her like that? She was average. Nothing special.

Warm blood was sent to her fair cheeks when their eyes met again and she suddenly felt hot, and not just because of the sun. She didn’t want to look like an unsophisticated fool unable to hold a conversation with a boy she cared about deeply. Kim struggled. When she was with Oz she was tongue tied and she couldn’t think straight. She didn’t want him to regret ever taking a chance with her but why was it so hard to act normal? Was this how they were going to be for the rest of the year or was this the feeling you experience during the beginning of all relationships where you learn to adjust and get used to affection from someone else? Kim didn’t know. She may never know. Why couldn’t she know? God, she was so out of her element.

Clearing her throat, Kim modestly began, “Katie is caught up with Jamie and AJ again… I’m hoping this weekend, maybe even at the game today I can tell her about you. It’s so easy to get Niles to listen. Katie. Well, obviously, not so much. But I really want her to know we’re dating. I’m sorry if I’ve been making you feel any type of way. It’s not that I don’t want to, I promise.” It was the mere fact she didn’t know when was a good time nor did she want her friend to think she was taking the spotlight from her. Katie was a busy girl, and with the student election approaching, that was keeping her occupied. Add her time with Scott and her brother’s drama, that left little room for Kim to bring up anything about herself. Lately, their relationship felt one sided but that could be Kim’s insecurities getting the best of her. Katie was her best friend, no doubt, and she knew if she just spoke up she’d listen. She just had to… speak up. “I really like you, Anthony.” She admitted, trying her best to not look away like the blushing bride that she was.

”And I really like you too, Kimber.” Oz teased. Kim was one of only a few he would allow to use his Christian name. Hell, she could even use Antonio and he wouldn’t hate it. Every word sung through her ruby painted lips were hymns and gospel to his ears. “Listen.” He used both of his hands to cover hers and held them together in unison, entwined like their lives had become. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this about me but…I’m a fucking weirdo.” Oz’s grin widened from ear to ear; despite his admittedly scary visage, his smile was always warm and welcoming. “Katie is your best friend and she will love whatever choices you make in your life. You can tell her about me tonight or you can tell her about me a year from now, honestly it doesn’t bother me because I either really like being your dirty little secret or I just like being with you..”

He picked Kim’s hands up to kiss her knuckles; the heat of the growing sun baring down like a comfort blanket. “I have never needed anyone’s approval in my life. Babe, my family wears suits at the dinner table. I ain’t conforming to that shit and I’m sure as shit not going to conform to the rules and regulations of a high school teen drama. OK?” Ozzy let out a short, stifled laugh. “I want you, like to infinitum but I also want you to be happy and comfortable and safe. So you gotta' do things in your own time.”

The server brought out their breakfasts and placed them in front of them. As she did, Oz let go of Kim’s hand for a second to rip the girl cash before she moved on. “One day; you are going to find something, that same something you use when your writing and your gonna bask in it and you’re gonna grow in it and this fucking world isn’t gonna know what hit them and I’ll be behind you every step of the way. Shredding my guitar and riding your coattails. Cos we fucking rock babe, you’re my lady and I’m your meatball.”

“You say that so assuredly,” Kim impulsively responded. The doubt setting in, after hearing all the sweetest little things that Oz believed and felt. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him. She had no reason not to. She wanted to fully give in and let all these positive emotions take hold of her, grabbing the wheel of her heart, while it drove them toward paradise. For some reason she was programmed to be hesitant, cautious and a little afraid. Not of him but of the idea that someone genuinely liked her for her and not just in a platonic sense but as lovers do. Still the doubt questioned what he saw in her. Why was he so committed? He made it sound like he was there to stay. What made him believe it would all work out in the end? What made him believe she was right for him? What made him believe there was no one else that would suit him better? There was nothing there. Just a girl and her pen, but beyond that? She was normal. A backdrop in someone else’s story.

Nursing her glass of OJ in her hand, Kim peered down, getting lost in the liquid. Clarifying her thoughts out loud, she anxiously asked, “What makes you so sure you’ll be with me every step of the way? Why would you even want to? I’m not like a star or anything. Aside from my writing, there really isn’t anything unique about me. Your weird life is yours and it’s so different from mine. I just… I feel like you’re going to get bored of me. I mean look at me.” Kim released the cup to clasp her hands together, looking at him thoughtfully even if her beautiful, hazel eyes were searching for answers. She was in her head and being a little self degrading, the fact that she hadn’t told her best friend yet about him was weighing heavily on her mind, but her focus, attention, and most importantly, heart was all on him. “I’m not pretty or interesting. I’m mediocre at best.”

“Mediocre? Ozzy shook his head in disbelief. “Mediocre,” He repeated, hanging his head and staring at the warm yolk leaking out of his breakfast sandwich, just like his Mama made them. “MEDIOCRE!” With pure recklessness Anthony flung himself backwards in his chair, sending his body flying away from the table where he would hit the ground. He rolled to his feet in a grandiose performative masterpiece, spreading his arms wide to soak in the adulation of his crowd of one.

“My dear lady, mediocrity is a social construct designed to keep the geniuses and artists of the world locked in their cages of self defamation and doubt. Mediocrity is a word, a racial slur used to stop the mad ones, the ones mad to live, to chase, to dream, to fucking rock and stop them from taking over.” Oz hurried around to the west facing part of the table, kneeling swiftly at Kim’s side. “Mediocrity, is a tool that they’re trying to use to stop you from being the you, inside your heart. The you I see. It’s all there babe, in your writing, in your words. The one thing you wield more powerfully that anyone else. Your skill with the quill is undeniable, like you and me.”

He could not hide the adoration in his eyes for her, he wouldn’t want to anyway. Oz was honest and unashamedly himself at all times. Mediocre was not in his vocabulary. “Yes I did just quote Hamilton, you’re rubbing off on me, Kim. And I wouldn’t want it or you any other way.”

If she wasn’t blushing now she certainly was after that showcase. She surrounded herself with actors and immersed herself in theater like her soul depended on it but nothing on her lengthy resume prepared her for Anthony “Oz” Osso. “You didn’t answer the question of what makes you so sure about me, Sir,” She protested, clearly probing for validation. She crossed her arms and looked away from the boy kneeling before her. This was a strange image for any person that passed by; she was sure. Goodness, her next shift would come faster than she wanted and there was no way her coworkers wouldn’t talk and ask her what happened this lovely Friday morning. She could already feel their eyes on them. On her. And her sandwich was certainly getting cold. “All this fluff.” She grumbled, trying to be stubborn and not give into his sweet nothings. “You see me as a talented writer. Whoop-dee-doo. I write, it’s my passion. I know.” Her inner brat that only he got to see came to the surface. She was an only child for most of her life until she gained a step brother. The brat was there even if she tried to hide it with class but only Oz knew how to bring it out. Her voice dropped into a mutter and she pouted, “Me not being mediocre has nothing to do with your feelings for me.”

“Mmmm, ‘Kay.” Typical Kim. Oz had come to expect in their short time together that she would dissect his words like a surgeon, looking for any loophole her brain can use to self sabotage. She couldn’t help it and he didn’t blame her, that was just her mind. He got to his feet and made his way behind her, placing his hands on either side of her neck. “You wanna know what makes me so sure? Fine.” Anthony’s fingers gently tapped and danced around her neck and lower skull, tickling, teasing and massaging. “How about the simple fact that being around you makes me feel like there’s a swarm of butterflies just flapping around in my gut? Or that when you're deep in thought, day dreaming, you chew the end of your pencil and it makes me smile more than anything else in the world? Or perhaps, dearest maiden…”

Oz span her chair with sheer force to face him and with a smile he pulled her into his arms. Kim latched onto him for dear life as he hoisted her up and placed her down on a table. With their faces inches away from each other, Ozzy raised his hand to caress her cheek and lip. “When you look at me, with those big hazel eyes and you smile, I literally can see only you. The world just falls apart and it’s just you. I can’t explain it, words aren’t my thing. Like when you kiss me, you’re a fucking goddess and I’m your humble servant.” His voice lowered into a whisper as he spoke directly into her mouth. “I’m sure because I’m sure.”

For a beast, he really knew how to make a girl melt. Effortlessly he moved her to the table, pushing her food so her skirt didn’t get any yoke on it. Her legs were open with him in between them, his face so close to her’s that all she could do was look up and see him. Kim had forgotten that she was outside her workplace. She had forgotten what she was complaining about. She had forgotten that today was a school day and if they didn’t start eating soon, they would be late. She had forgotten where she was at because she was happy to be wherever he was. What a strange feeling, to find someone you can’t get enough of. This was her boyfriend and he adored her.

Wrapping her hands around him, tangling her hands with his hair, Kim brushed her lips with his, teasingly, and then she closed her eyes and kissed him. She savoured their kiss, having thought about it all night. Her body leaned into his and her legs tightened around his waist. She could feel the heat and electricity course through her body. It went from gentle to rough in a matter of seconds and as a reward, she made an unexpected, delicious sound in his mouth. Her face beamed red when that happened and she pulled away, “W-we should eat.”

“I feel like I just did.” Ozzy chuckled as he licked his bottom lip, catching a secondary buzz from the residual taste of Kim’s mouth on his. “But yeah, I can totally go for some eggs.” The way she was in that moment; staring up at him, wrapped around him, that was the real her; the Kim only Oz truly got to see. She was wild, there was fire in her just burning away in her chest trying to spread into something resembling an inferno. He couldn’t deny it in moments like this, he had utterly fallen in love with her. It had only been two months but to him, Kim felt like the missing piece of his heart puzzle and now it had finally been fit.

---

Having finished their breakfast, Kim and Oz hopped back on his Harley and made their way towards Beverly Hills High. Once his baby was locked up tighter than a chastity belt, the metal head walked hand in hand with his girl down the hallways. It was safe to say both were walking in a bubble of their own making, a bubble of bliss and need. If any eyes were staring at them, Ozzy didn’t care because by the axe of James Hetfield he was fucking happy.

Once they were outside of Ms. Belmonte’s class, he felt that horrible pang in his heart, he knew it was time to say goodbye, at least for a little while. Glancing over to his right, in the distance stood a handful of alternatives; an audience of goths, rockers, nerds and misfits: Ozzy’s people. “The unwashed masses await me, my lady. And your adoring public await you.” He took off his leather jacket and offered it to his beloved. “You’ll never catch me dead in a Letterman but I can offer you this. In case you’re feeling like rising above mediocrity.” He smiled, his gaze never leaving hers. “And if not, well you can give it back after lunch and we can go make out in the drama room. Your choice.”

Switching her backpack for his jacket, she took his armour and put it on. It was huge on her. If Katie didn’t think she was dating someone when she saw her wearing this, then her friend was clearly delusional and caught up with her own agenda. Grabbing her backpack from him, she bit her bottom lip, debating something. Once a mental battle with herself came and went, a good sparring match inside her head where only one thought would remain victorious, she blurted, “Do you want to come over, tonight? To watch a movie? My parents aren’t home for the weekend and the company would be nice.” This could be a great way for her to officially introduce Oz to Katie, if the jacket wasn’t a dead giveaway. “I’ll make a nice spread for us and get the best blankets and pillows… it’ll be really comfy.”

Oz was no fool, irregardless of how he was perceived sometimes. A lesser man would assume that this was Kim asking him over for sex but he knew her better than that. When the time was right for them, the time would be right. This was her reaching out and allowing him to take a step further into her world, it was a sweet gesture that he very much appreciated. The more time he could spend with his lady, the better. Kimber had been quite guarded for much of their dating, a far cry from Ozzy had his Ozness, so any glimpse he got into her life was one to be cherished. “I’ll be there. You want me to bring anything?”

“… something sweet?” Kim offered, taking a mental note of everything she was preparing. Sure there would be popcorn, mocktails and a charcuterie board, but she didn’t consider dessert. Cannolis maybe? Or a cake. She was sure whatever Oz brought it would be yummy. She couldn’t wait. Kim wasn’t one to indulge in her cravings often but tonight she’d treat herself. It was a big night after all. If Katie was down for a movie party, tonight would be the night she disclosed her two-month long secret, who was standing in front of her with long hair, ripped jeans, and metal in his soul.

“That I can do.” Oz leaned in and kissed his girlfriend's full red lips; talking of sweetness, she was the sweetest thing he’d ever tried. There was order and there was chaos, one could not live without the other, to feed and take from one another in symbiosis and harmony. It was fucking metal, man and so was love. Love was sweeter than honey and harder than steel. So were Kim and Oz. “See you later?”

Breathlessly, Kim replied, “Yeah, of course.” She embraced him one last time, nuzzling her face against his chest and squeezing him, not wanting him to leave but knowing they had to go about their school day. This was the worst part of the day. “See you, Meatball.” And with that the metalhead was off and Kim entered her homeroom, which happened to be more eventful than she anticipated. Chaotic even, and that was okay.

As she sat in her chair, she smiled, peering down at her phone tapping it against her hand, in thought.

She texted her best friend.

TO: Kater-Tater
Are you free tonight?
For movie night? My place?
It's been awhile since we had one. 🥺

Kim

[Aces Away]

^{Timestamp: Immediately following the end of the Morning Show
Location: Homeroom 203, Mrs. D’Amiano
Introducing: Samyan and Kisho Fujimori}

_____________________________________________________________________



_____________________________________________________________________

“Always so wild, man,” Samyan observed with a wide smile as the Morning Show cut off, their friend's face disappearing from view. They were sitting in Mrs. D'Amiano's class right next to their brother, who had his headphones on and his face down in his sketchbook, totally oblivious to the spectacle that was Beverly Hills High's Morning Show. Sensing his siblings eyes on him despite hearing nothing over the building beat in his headphones, Kisho glanced to the side to see Yani grinning at him. He slid his headphones off and sat back from the slouch that would have his father hiring etiquette tutors for him again, tilting his head in question. Yani humored his belated interest just as they always did. “Rye and Dani made Sully think too hard too fast, man, and the whole show was just like a tennis match; bam, bam, bam, back and forth with the lines,” they described emphatically, hands snapping back and forth at each other to indicate the rapid pace of the televised conversation. “Sully looked like his brain hurt by the end.”

“Concerning,” Kisho replied simply, no change in his expression during his sibling's playback to support his words. He put his pencil down and closed his sketchbook to give Yani his full attention. “Was he upset?”

Sully was a recent pet project of Ethan's, which meant that just like most of the people the other rich boy's interest latched on to, the rising streamer of low income status was on the fast track to becoming one of the Elite. Kisho now had to pay attention to him.

“Ah, mentioned something about being an indentured servant,” Yani replied with a headshake and an animated shrug. “Maybe upset? Maybe just realized and was trying to process. The other two did not really give him a chance. He should be fine, bro.”

“Okay,” Kisho accepted with far less fanfare than his sibling. If it was nothing to bring up to Ethan then it was nothing for Kisho to spend any more thought on. The internet star was Ethan's project and prospective friend, and the japanese boy was more than willing to wait until Sully actually began integrating with the crew before he spent any extra thought or energy on him.

He looked around at his classmates fully for the first time since each one’s arrival after he and Yani had settled down, both early risers that didn't mind chilling in the class long before the first bell rang. Unlike Belmonte's homeroom, which unknown to the others was missing almost half of its students, D'Amiano's was almost completely full. Helen Wells, one of two Tantalizers of room 203, was absent, as was Niles Sinclair, though the other boy spent many mornings in the library so this was no surprise. Helen's brother, Troy, was in his seat soon after the Fujimori's had taken theirs. Alvaro had been seated before the Morning Show started, having done his round of greetings to those that the royal remnant still deemed worth his time in their final year of BHHS, which included Kisho strictly for appearances sake.

Leila Webb was absorbed in her phone screen before she'd crossed the threshold- which also had the girl oblivious to the way Yani had caught sight of her as soon as she'd graced the room with her presence. Kisho admired his siblings’ dedication to this crush, because so far any interaction he's seen has had Leila responding positively but not with that level of interest that showed she understood she was being flirted with and praised. He wondered if the girl would respond back in kind once the flip finally switched in her mind, or if he'd be the beta listener for some seriously sad bops while his sibling worked through their disappointment. Ellie Walter's was sitting next to her friend, slushie blue tongue and lips showing as she mouthed along to the words in her headphones, waiting for Mrs. D'Amiano to officially start class for the day.

Oz made his way in with minutes to spare. Then, the Triple Crowns had made their attention grabbing entrance, connected by Athena following immediately after the first two Helmsleys, moments before the bell, and the sibling duo of Toury Phoenix and Dash Day had thrown themselves across the threshold as the final ringing was dying out, maintaining their surprising joint record of perfect homeroom attendance. The Tantalizer had almost fallen over her smaller brother in their efforts, but they both caught each other at the last moment and shoved the other towards their seats right as the Morning Show had burst to life on screen. Kisho supposed that when your parents worked in the same building, even the most rambunctious kids will retain a certain level of respect, if not decorum.

“Kisho I’ve been talking to you,” Samyan broke through his thoughts when they switched over to Japanese. “Where’d you go?”

“I wasn’t listening,” He replied, words more relaxed as he too spoke in his first language. “Sorry.”

Hiro Fujimori, their father, paid good money for the twins’ English lessons from a very young age, and preferred they speak it ‘properly’ whilst in public, including school, especially to maintain good business conversation and etiquette. This, of course, did not extend to their step-sister Wakiya who had no care for the business and had grown up in America on the Blue Hill reservation, halfway between Beverly Hills and some of their classmates’ hometown of Gravette, Oregon. She took great joy in teaching her new siblings all the slang and curse words she knew, so it wasn't like they were unable to switch up the way they spoke. Yani had picked up on and liked to add words like ‘man’ and ‘bro’ into their sentences like most people say ‘um’ or ‘like’, unwilling to stifle the personality of their speech completely. Kisho used more formal English than Yani did but both avoided contractions and anything that their father believed could make their speech come off as lazy, uneducated, or unprofessional- Kisho would like to insert an eyeroll here. It didn't matter that none of their classmates, some children of their father's business partners, were not held to the same standard. Hiro was a surprisingly understanding father in many areas, but he did still have his expectations and biases that he enforced on his heirs.

He understood his father's worries, of course. Both Kisho and Samyan have retained light accents- despite almost nine years spent stateside- and when Hiro and his father before him had been expanding their business and networking internationally, they had faced many biases and setbacks due to ignorance. Faced down many downright racist and xenophobic people and continued to push through until they’re family name was practically associated with oil. Personally, Kisho felt that his father’s ‘standards’ simply made him seem ignorant and biased as well, just like those he purported this standard would protect his children from. Contrary to his father, Kisho believed being able to adapt to the different ways the people around you speak was a sign of intelligence and skill in and of itself, but he and Samyan still understood where Hiro was coming from, and thus respected his wishes.

All bets were off when they spoke in Japanese, though, they'd struck that deal with their father before they ever set foot in their new home. They had to breathe some time, and their father could be worse than they were sometimes in their native tongue.

Speaking of Yani, they let out an affronted noise before slouching over their desk like a flower getting stomped on. “My brother doesn't even love me enough to listen! I make him music, I drive him to school!”

“I drove to school today, you dork.”

“Not the point!” Yani switched back to English now that Kisho was once more engaged. “But I will still cede it, bro.”

“Concede.”

“That difference hardly matters, man, they are practically the same word!”

“We can bring that up in debate at the next club meeting,” Kisho countered, looking away from his sibling with little care to the affronted stare they were leveling him with.

The Fujimori's loved Foreign Languages club, and many of the students there got to see a more open side of Kisho than the stone faced, soft toned friend-wrangler that was observed with the Elite, or the focused, agile predator on the ice and field who strikes so hard and fast you worry the net of the goal may snap. It was a safe haven for foreign students, no matter how long ago they moved, and for students like PJ Jones who were learning for their future profession, it allowed them to immerse themselves in conversational forms of whichever language they were conversing in at the time. The future ESL teacher - which Kisho honestly found a waste of her talents but was held back on saying by Yani's hand over his mouth- and twin of Yani's friend JJ, could hold entire conversations with them, only stumbling when they threw in slang or used certain words colloquially. Kisho was of the opinion that she should become an interpreter, be it for businessmen or entertainers, and Yani silently hoped the girl would expand her idea for her future in her own ways, but was unwilling to call PJ'S easily achieved goals a waste. Plus, her being in ASL club as well as working at Webb Heads meant Yani could barrage her with questions about Leila in several different languages and pass it off as helping hone the black girl’s skills.

PJ, while never actually fooled by the Raver's ruse, was willing to answer to a certain extent. While the girl had a habit of keeping her head in her writing journal as much as Yani’s brother kept his in his sketchbook, she truly did absorb more knowledge about the people she surrounded herself with than even she herself believed. Yani wasn’t ashamed about taking advantage of that for their own gain.

“Are you going to ask her?” Kisho asked his sibling as he propped his head up on his hand while leaning on his desk, having followed his sibling’s wandering eyes. Yani groaned, taking their eyes off of Leila once more and sending their eyes to the heavens.

“Guh!” They scoffed, pouting at their brother while he rolled his eyes once more at the dramatics Samyan employed in their every action. “Not so easy, man. She does not even get the flirting, how do I just walk up and say, ‘you want to go with me to the dance? I know it is last minute, man, but I have been trying to lead up to it since the first day of school’?”

“Eh…exactly like that?” Kisho replied in confusion, never knowing his sibling to be unsure of what to say around someone and unsure of how to comfort such behavior. “Preferably without saying ‘man’ right in the middle.”

“Do not tease me, this is serious,” Yani said, looking forlornly at the girl Yani has an album’s worth of deep, soft beats that they made while thinking about her. Only Kisho has ever heard those ones. “I am not just wanting Leila for one night, I want her for my world.”

Their brother sighed and rubbed at his eyes, unprepared to deal with Yani’s pining this early in the morning. Being a part of their world as a whole was not simple or easy, and it was a loud and bright place. He was the quietest and most reserved out of the five people in their household, but that was because his personality came out when he had a stick in his hand or a ball under his foot. Kisho was self contained and generally unsociable, and only really had the one big insecurity about himself. His sibling was not typically the insecure or hesitant type. One of the first thing’s they had done when Hiro brought Yani home from Miri and said they would be raised alongside Kisho was stumble right over to their fellow two year old and topple him in a hug. They ran up to people their whole lives with the beats to a song on their mind and just vocalized and beatboxed random parts to the person before asking if that sounded sick or not. Yani did a fucking backflip off a cliff on their last family vacation only to pop out of the water with a grin and declare, ‘I didn’t even know I could do that, just felt like trying!’ Yani never hesitated unless it came to business, and that was just because that was when it was their job to take things seriously and consider every angle.

Yani was hesitating with Leila Webb.

“Is that not what you are supposed to say to someone when you feel that way?”

“Yeah?”

“...Yes? You really should not be asking me this, I have not dated.”

“That is by choice and lack of action on your part, Sho,” Yani countered. “You have had people ask you out and told them no, and you have never wanted to ask someone yourself,” Their brows furrowed as they looked at the back of Leila’s head with their chin resting in their palm. “For once, I am concerned about being told no. This means too much.”

How? Kisho wanted to ask. How do you feel that much, know that much already? It wasn’t a lack of faith in Yani’s knowledge of their own feelings and desires, it was genuinely a disconnect of mentality between the two siblings. Yani was very aware of everything, felt everything, and expressed everything with reckless abandon. Kisho was paying attention but almost never truly listening, was reserved in his actions and attitude outside of his sports teams, and spent more time begrudgingly following the insane plans of his friends in the Elite than presenting any of his own. Yani loved openly and was one hundred percent their authentic self in both public and private. Kisho couldn’t afford the same luxury.

“Samyan, you have not been wrong before,” Kisho finally landed on, realizing how much his sibling was actually looking for his support and validation right now. “She seems happy when you talk to her, you are happy when you talk to her. Show her your songs or something, perhaps offer to show it to her in your car after school.”

Yani’s eyes lit up at the idea and they leaned across the aisle to excitedly punch their brother on the arm while he pulled a face at the spectacle they were making. “With my good speakers, yes! That was a good idea, man, I thought you just said you were not the one to ask!”

“Please calm down,” Kisho mumbled, sliding further down in his seat as people started looking their way. Homeroom was one of the few places where he was allowed to be invisible. “Or get away from me and go bring it up to her now.”

“Okay!”

“Wait-”

Samyan was gone, already out of their chair and sliding into the empty one in front of Leila and making sure they got the girl’s attention before opening their mouth to speak. Kisho watched his sibling’s return to following their impulses with raised eyebrows before he decided to give them a bit of privacy. Putting his headphones back on and reopening his sketchbook, Kisho picked up his pencil once more and let himself disappear from the real world as he focused on drawing his own. The buzzing in his pocket was probably the Elite chat, he could check that once he'd finished his shading.

“Hi, hey!” Yani greeted once Leila had given them her attention. “Do you have maybe five free minutes after school? I have a song I have been working on that I would like to show you, and something else to talk about! Are you interested?”

[Bee]

_{Timestamp: Right after "Skill Issue"
Location: Jade's House -> Beverly Hills High School}

_{@Bee and @Grimoire Gaming}

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---

Luckily for Oliver, he had nothing to worry about with his girlfriend’s radio silence this morning. As soon as he arrived in front of her house she came prancing out of the door with her Cinnamoroll backpack and helmet in hand. He shook his head with a chuckle. Her gear was… extra, but it made her smile. And if Jade Nguyen was happy, Oli was happy, simple as.

Oli gave her a big good morning squeeze when she greeted him with a hug. Once she put on her helmet, he pressed two fingers to his helmet, above where his mouth was, and then proceeded to press those fingers to her helmet above where her own lips would be — an indirect kiss, as was their morning routine. Jade then hopped onto the seat behind Oli and held him tight around the waist as he sped them off towards BHHS — going significantly closer to the speed limit with precious cargo on board.

Arriving at the school, Oli killed the engine and kicked the stand out to steady his bike. While Jade stepped off the back, he removed his helmet and then followed suit. He roughed up his split-dyed black and blond hair to get rid of the helmet head and grinned stupidly at Jade, eagerly awaiting a proper good morning kiss. “Mornin’, kitten.”

As the motorcycle came to a stop, and finally shut off, Jade’s helmet came off and was met with that damned smile that she fell in love with. She couldn’t help but to smile back. “Hi, Oli Woli :3” Jade mused, as she went on her tippy toes to meet Oli’s lips with her own.

“Sorry, I forgot to respond. I was playing solo queue all night.” Jade ran her fingers through her hair, shaking it a bit to also get it untangled from being under a helmet for so long. “You wouldn’t believe who I had to deal with today.”

“All night? For real?” Oliver watched as she shook out her dark locks, wafting the fruity scent of her shampoo towards him. Strawberries and cream, if Oli were to try and guess the aroma. It was pretty and sweet, and it made him want to kiss her again. Instead, he listened to her rev up to a potential rant, and pulled her closer to him by her waist.

“You should get better sleep, babe.” The gentle command was spoken like warm, melted chocolate as he held their bodies close together. “Who’d you have to deal with?”

“You know me!” Jade put her arms out, before curling up to Oli’s chest and looking up at him, her big ol’ eyes staring right into Oli’s.

“See, I tried to sleep. But I couldn’t. I got trouble sleeping.” Jade shrugged, before pulling them along (slowly) toward campus. Jade had always claimed that she had insomnia, but really she just loved to stay up really late and sleep minimally so she can enjoy the peace and quiet of the deep night. It didn’t make much of a difference since her house was mostly empty, but she could still enjoy whatever control she had left on her day.

“I had to deal with this Jinx - two items - and just as many kills, kept initiating fights he shouldn’t have! Typical AD Carry shit, dude!” Jade complained, putting her hands out as she complained about yet another shitty player in League. She put her face closer into Oli’s chest, taking a big ol’ whiff of him as well.

“:3”

“Smurfing or on your main?” Oli inquired. It could really go either way, shitters still existed in higher elos. “What was the lane state like? Did your jungler suck?” The gamer’s mind slipped effortlessly into coach mode, eager to analyze what could have gone wrong in a game hadn’t even watched let alone been a part of. Jade cared just as much about her ranking as he did his, albeit for different reasons, and as her boyfriend, he was always looking to see her improve as much as possible. But sometimes, Jade just wanted to complain for the sake of venting — unfortunately for her, Oli had a hard time separating those moments from the coachable ones.

“Smurfing.” Jade replied, “Queue times are too long on my main.” Jade’s main had peaked at challenger as recently as last season, but this season was giving her a little more difficulty. Compounded with the absurdly long time it took for her to get into the game and she instead played on her other account.

“Every lane was pushed to their tower except mine. Yet, Jinx just walked past the wave and started fights. The jungler kept failing his insecs. He put the ward too far so he would try to do it and then fuck it up and then stand there with his dick in his hand as our teammates would die!” Jade frowned, continuing to walk at an angle as she continued to complain to Oli.

“See,” Oli tsked his tongue in mock disappointment. “This is what you get for staying up too late and playing without your challenger-ranked boyfriend.” He glanced to the side to give her a playful smirk. Despite the fact that he was just teasing her, she really did look tired. “And now my unhinged gremlin is rocking some serious raccoon eyes. You didn’t even respond to my texts.” There was the slightest of pouts on his lips as he led them towards Jade’s homeroom.

“I forgot! I thought I replied.” Jade frowned again, before going on her tippy toes to plant a kiss on Oli’s cheek, “Does that help you feel better? 🥺” The unhinged gremlin used her other hand to rub a circle on her eyes. Were they really that bad? Was she full raccoon right now?

Oliver looked on with an amused half-smile as Jade attempted to rub the tiredness from her expression. When she took her hand away and looked back up at him with her big doe eyes and pouty lips, he tilted her chin up with two fingers. “Hmm, It makes me feel—” he began to speak before leaning in close, so that he could whisper in a lewd tone meant only for her ears. “ —like you weren’t a good enough girl to deserve what I sent you.” Oli pulled back with a devilish twinkle in his eye, leaving nothing but the ghost of his words against her cheek.

“Will you still be up for going to the game tonight, or will you need a nap?” He asked, switching back to his usual tone, as if he hadn’t just said what he did.

“What you sent me???” Jade looked down at the pocket her phone was in. There was no way in hell she’d be opening the text thread with Oli at school now. Too risky. Jade pouted again, “You hate me for real…”

The football game was absolutely something that Jade forgot about. Hell, she barely knew it was spirit week, and based on the way most people were dressed, it was school color day. There was a lot of black in her outfit, so she had at least 50% spirit. “I’ll go. Maybe I can find some time to nap in between… if not… I’m pounding a monster.” Jade blinked twice, before slapping Oli on the shoulder.

“Not like that! Pllleaaaseee don’t say ‘it’s me I’m monster’.”

“Pfft, like you’d be the one doing the pounding.” He replied with a cocky smirk. Glancing at the clock, he only had a few minutes to get from outside of Jade’s homeroom and to his own. They were practically on opposite sides of the school. “You should get to class, babe. I don’t want to be late. Again.” One too many days of getting distracted by having their tongues in each other's mouths made Oliver’s attendance record… less than ideal.

“Okay 🥺” Jade mused, continuing to walk just until they got to Jade’s homeroom. It was convenient since it was closer than Oli’s, but if the tables were turned, she would’ve made him walk the extra distance to drop her off first.

Turning around as she waited outside the door, she tippy toed one last time to give Oli a good-bye kiss. “See you laters. I love you <3”

“Bye, baby. I love you too.” Oli said as he gave her a second kiss on her forehead before turning heel to beat feet across the campus. “Try not to fall asleep in class!” He yelled over his shoulder before getting too far away.

[smarty0114]

Timestamp: Between homeroom and first period
Levi “Hot Shit” Green-Locke and Sully “Not Shit” Harper
A @smarty0114 and @Aces Away collab

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As the hour ticked by, the October air warmed, and Levi decided it was time for him to rejoin the throngs of students that would soon be heading towards their next class. The day was hardly done, and even though he would’ve rather walked a mile wearing nothing but polyester, he did have a Physics class to attend. He stood, and brushed off his pants, always keenly aware of every speck of dust or dirt that threatened to mar his carefully crafted appearance. His steps were slow, and measured, striding with a confident posture, wearing a cold and callous affect that had become second-nature by now.

If it seemed like he’d practiced, it was because he had. Every night when he was twelve years old and held by the throat by the iron grip of his own hormones, he walked back and forth infront of his mirror. He wasn’t born with Andy and Celeste’s confidence. In those early days, he was timid, perpetually clinging to his sister’s sleeve. He could learn to project that confidence, though. He was determined to. He straightened the slouch that everyone but him seemed to notice, over and over and over again until he had crafted the ‘Levi Suit’ he wore so well.

The quiet of the outdoors was pierced by the shrill ringing of the school bell, ushering the BHHS student body onward to their next class. Levi pulled open one of the heavy metal doors and reentered the jungle he so dutifully helped oversee. He folded his sunglasses onto the collar of his shirt, and smiled as he parted the sea of red and black with a simple wave. Moses didn’t have much of anything on him.

He walked down the hall, smiling to himself as he drank in the adoring gazes and vengeful glares. They were jealous of him, his proximity to Naomi, his looks, his money, his everything. He was prepared to keep on his way, uncaring, until someone caught his eye. He almost ignored the tug in his gut, before pausing in his procession down the hall. It wasn’t easy to catch his eye, harder still to keep his attention. Sullivan Harper, though he might’ve been unaware, had managed to do both. No, he hadn’t been stalking his TikTok. The algorithm just did that. Like the serpent moving through the Garden of Eden, Levi slithered over to where Sully was quietly taking a textbook from his locker. He shooed the freshman standing next to him away, and leaned against the wall of lockers as Butler watched. “I know you, don’t I?”

Sully hadn’t been paying any attention as the crowded hall behind him pressed back and shifted. It wasn’t important, usually just some hotshot making their way down the halls and people reacting like they were royalty. Well…Sully supposed that technically some of the kids here were royalty, but jesus, dude, they all went to the same school. Sully didn’t like to cause scenes, but he also wasn’t one to move unless asked properly or forced, and it hasn’t failed him since. The freshman from this morning was babbling her thanks to him once more from the other side of his opened locker, her face completely blocked by the painted metal door as he freed his Physics textbook from within its depths. He barely registered when she went silent and disappeared, now focused on making sure his cig boxes didn’t get crushed under the book being added to his bag. When someone new addressed him before he even realized the previous conversation had ended, Sully let out a heavy sigh and closed his locker door to see the face that had been hidden behind it.

By the sudden wide bubble of space around them in the crowded hall, and the grown ass man standing a couple feet away, anyone in school would be able to tell that the person talking to him was a Green. Sully was at least that aware of his classmates and surroundings. He didn’t even need that, in fact, because Levi was a part of the theater kids and had done his fair share of trying to dictate Sully in his building process freshman year before they all gave up when they realized he didn’t listen to them. What he didn’t understand is why the boy was here in front of him, or why he opened with such a stupid line. Sully was still trying to process the whole indentured servant thing from earlier and seeing the one Green was making him think of his deal for the party he made with Ethan. He was really hoping he’d have a chance to smoke a cigarette and gather his thoughts before this next class, but that chance was getting slimmer and slimmer the longer they stared each other down. So Sully relented, if only a little, as he dropped his arm from his closed locker door and swung his backpack onto his shoulder, looking up at the taller boy past the bill of his cap.

“Sully. I’ve been buildin’ your theater sets for the past three years?”

Levi wasn’t used to anything other than reverence when he made introductions, not here at least. Sully’s answer pierced the veil of confidence he wore, ever so slightly. His smile twitched but did not fall. “I’m sure you’re right, but it’s not that.” His fingers drummed a slow rhythm against the painted red metal. “You do the Morning Show too, don’t you? You’re the cute little one in the middle.” He looked down at Sully with the eyes of someone who was accustomed to getting the things he asked for. “I’m Levi, but you knew that,” he said, his voice softer than satin, and just as likely to suffocate you. “I like the hat. Looks good on you.”

Little? Sully thought, a flash of distaste making its way across his face before he contained his expression again. I’m literally average height. It wasn’t Sully’s fault he had to crane his neck up to look at the boy towering over him, not everyone could break the six foot ceiling with their final growth spurt. Ethan was tall too but not as tall as Levi, and at least the hockey player hadn’t called him little. Sully tilted his head in confusion at Levi when the boy complemented his hat, almost going cross eyed to stare doubtfully at the frayed bill covered in mechanical stains. He didn’t know a lot about Levi in particular, but he knew enough about rich people and their tastes to know that the guy was lying about liking his hat.

“Dude, it’s a plain red hat from the Goodwill, are you sick or somethin’?” Levi was acting weird. The fact that Sully was aware of how Levi was acting at all was weird, because that meant Levi was interacting with him. And why was he towering like that? Someone being so in your face was different when they were smaller like Rye, but something about the way Levi leaned into his space had him swallowing nervously. Levi was probably trying to lead up to something, right? And his ma didn’t raise him to be rude right off the bat, so when Sully realized what he had just said he frowned and looked away, fingers flying up to fray the brim of his hat even more with his constant fidgeting. “Sorry, I ain’t mean nothin’ by that, I just don’t- like- why are you here?” He tried again, and that certainly sounded better than asking the boy if he was sick because he decided to talk to him. “Are you tryin’ to get me to announce somethin’ on the show for you? ‘Cause I don’t get to write the script. Ion’t think I even know who writes it.”

Okay, okay, so his first approach wasn’t working. He hadn’t been prepared for that. One of the many downfalls of buying into your own hype. That was fine. He could adapt. Probably. “I could’ve been meaner about it, but I’m prepping for a new role. Man of the people,” Levi said, grinning but refusing to elaborate. “I wanted to make sure you and your friends heard about Ethan’s party tomorrow. It’ll be the best one of the year until Naomi decides to one up it.” If anyone asked him, this was what Jamie got for trying and failing to beat him at his own game. It certainly had nothing to do with his almost pathological habit of finding the poorest kids he could, and trying to give them a taste of the Green lifestyle.

“I already told Ethan yes,” Sully responded in exasperation, now worried that he’d be getting a visit from a different Green every couple days now. He wasn’t really a fan of the idea. Sully took his hat off and ran his hands through his wavy locks, trying to stall so he could find himself and Levi’s intentions, because it didn’t feel right the way the taller boy was talking. He looked up again, now free of the hat, and met Levi’s piercing blue eyes for the first time. “Was I not clear?”

Levi could practically hear the whoosh as his flirtations went over Sully’s head. God, had he lost his touch? “I’m sure you’re a lot of things, but unclear doesn’t seem to be one of them,” he said, tilting his head ever so slightly. Most people were desperate for Levi’s approval, or terrified of him. Sully was neither, and it unsettled him. If anything, he seemed confused. Levi wasn’t exactly used to a challenge, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy one. He’d figure out the angle soon enough. He simply had to. “I’m just…doing a friend a favor. I know Jamie was really hoping to see AJ there.” He smiled. “Maybe someone’s hoping to see you,” he offered alongside a shrug.

“O…kay?” Sully faltered, the memory of what he overheard from Trixie and Jamie’s conversation this morning coming back to the surface. The blonde boy had said that he and AJ were hooking up again, so he supposed it made sense, but wasn’t Rye supposed to be hanging out with AJ at the party? Things still weren’t adding up, but Sully didn’t have the energy to chase the puzzle pieces and he hadn’t had a cig in hours so he wasn’t settled enough to try and put those pieces together even if he did manage to grasp them. He could feel his jaw clenching and realized he was grinding his teeth, so he quickly reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out two suckers, offering one to the other boy after he unwrapped his own and put it in his mouth. “Want one? And is this some set up? Someone hopin’ to see me sounds like a date, I thought I was just supposed to be chillin’ with Andy. I was even told I could bring my DS.”

Interesting. Since when did Andy have friends? Andy, who’d been even more timid than Levi growing up, was a lot of things, but a social butterfly wasn’t one of them. Jamie Callaghan did not have a patent on being nosy at BHHS. Levi just didn’t feel the need to flaunt what he heard, unless he stood to benefit. If you were feeling generous, you could call it familial responsibility; if you were being realistic, you might call it an obsessive need to look under every stone, to know every secret. Regardless, his interest, still on the rise despite Sully’s staggering oblivion, had begun to crescendo. Why was Ethan personally inviting this boy to the party? Why was he suddenly hanging out with Andy, and most importantly, why the fuck could he not tell that Levi was desperately trying to find a way into his pants?

“Thanks,” he took the candy, deft fingers removing the wrapper and placing it onto his tongue. His lips curled back into a smile around the white stick. He decided to eschew the coy words in favor of the only thing Sully seemed likely to understand. “The someone is me, and it can be a set up, if you want it to be.” He twirled the sucker in his mouth. “I do try to be a better time than a game of Pokemon with my cousin.”

“I was gonna play Nintendogs, actually,” Sully answered honestly as he watched the other boy swirl the sucker around. He blinked a bit when the other parts of Levi’s comments registered and for a moment the confusion behind his eyes seemed to clear a bit. “Oh, are you hittin’ on me? Is that what this is?” Sully stared at the boy, his eyes alight in surprise. Levi’s more direct wording was certainly effective, as Sully finally seemed to get to the point, but that didn’t stop him from now having a few more questions about the whole matter. A bit of heat in his cheeks, because regardless it was flattering that someone would waste their time hitting on him, Sully apologized, “I- I don’t, uh, sorry but I don’t even know who I like? Or- what I like? I doubt I’m your speed, dude, even with how high I’m gonna be at the party.”

Oh, well that explained it. Levi could continue to feel assured in his charms, for this was just a boy who had not figured it out yet. Now that, he was used to. He might’ve hated science, but he loved experimentation. “That is most definitely what this is,” he said. “And I wouldn’t be so sure. My versatility is astounding,” and then, as though to prove it, “What dog?”

Having been asked a question he finally has an answer to, about something that he genuinely enjoys, Sully visibly perked up. He didn’t really quite follow the versatility comment, sounded like something Rye would say so probably more flirting, but he certainly understood the question ’what dog’. His shoulders unhunched from their wary position and fell back as he straightened out and he met Levi’s eyes for the second time in their conversation, pulling his orange lollipop out of his mouth so he could speak properly, twirling the weighted stick around his fingers like it was a pencil as he spoke.

For the first time since Levi came up to Sully, the shorter boy was genuinely engaged.

“I got my two retrievers and my german shepard, Birch, Beech, and Hickory, in the hotel right now while I work on trainin’ and buildin’ up my boxer and husky,” They were all fine and well at the doggy hotel, and Sully had an obsessive streak when it came to taking care of and training the new pixels in his possession while also being attached enough to the old ones that he couldn’t just donate them out. The first three dogs had won all the competitions he sent them through and he was letting them rest like the champions they were. “My husky Pine has already won first up to the master class, so two more to go, and Oak is pretty good in the obedience trials considering how stubborn he is. He’s more fun just to play with than to compete with, honestly.”

Sully stopped spinning the stick of his candy and popped it back into his mouth now that his piece had been said clearly, willing to talk past the treat unless he was going to be speaking quite a bit. It was unlikely, he wasn’t much of a talker when the cameras were off, but Levi had managed to peg one of the few things that could get him rambling if he wasn’t careful. Dogs and- by extension- the different types of wood they were named after. Pushing the candy into his cheek with the stick popping out of the corner of his mouth, Sully tilted his head and asked the other boy- whose height would probably have hurt his neck if he’d tried to keep eye contact with him more than twice in this interaction- his own question in return.

“Do you have it? I’m usin’ like, the original DS because I found one at the thrift store and got it workin’ somehow. Thing could honestly go any day now, one of the screens flickers every other boot up,” That totally didn’t make him anxious, didn’t upset him that one day he was going to wake up and the black screen of the handheld device would remain as such, that he’d have to go on another scavenging expedition in hopes of finding the piece he could fix on the damn thing. The more…technological aspects of things tended to have the boy going to Monarch for help- funny, given he was the streamer- and she’d already warned him that once this one goes dark one more time it is likely its last. Sometimes, oftentimes, especially in times like when his DS is faltering or he’s feeling extremely lost in his own mind fog, Sully wished they could get a real dog for the house. Pixels could keep you company but they couldn’t keep you warm, couldn’t ground you with soft fur and a rising chest to remind you of reality when you started to fade away. The pixels, if anything, made it easier for him to fade away instead of fighting to engage and stay engaged when it started to wear on him.

Alas, for someone like Sully, money and time were an issue, and there never seemed to be a right time to get a dog with how the house is often empty of anyone for twelve hours at a time. Sully could never do that to a living being, no matter how much he wanted a man’s best friend.

The change in Sully’s demeanor spurred Levi forward. “I used to. I, uh, I had a yorkie named Zordon,” Levi said, mask slipping for just a moment. “I was going through a Power Rangers phase,” he explained. “God, who even knows where that old thing is. It’s been years since I touched it,” As though he needed to distance himself from this peek back into his childhood. He pictured Sully tinkering with a battered piece of tech, or restoring one of those antiques he’d seen on his feed, half amused, half amazed. Levi wouldn’t be able to salvage something if his life depended on it. He used things up and threw them away, a consumer in the truest sense.

A sharp vibration against his thigh cut through his thoughts, and he pulled his phone from his pocket, eyes locking onto Naomi’s message. He grinned, and checked the time, all too aware that the passing period was not infinite. “Where are you headed after this?” he asked, returning his attention to the boy before him.

“Damn, maybe I should have named my dogs somethin’ sick like that,” Sully mused, responding to Levi’s glance of authenticity much better than anything the boy had tried before. He checked his battered old watch when Levi had reached for his phone and realized the same thing as the other- time was running out. He ran his tongue along the candy in his mouth as he gave one last mourning thought to having a cigarette before class and responded to the tall blonde. “If you ever find it, maybe we can play together,” Sully made to put his hat back onto his head, realizing they would be moving soon. “I’m headed to physics, you?”

Levi pushed himself back into his usual posture, the cat with the canary. This wasn’t going to be easy, but everybody was always telling him that the best things in life weren’t. He supposed that applied to boys as well. “It’s your lucky day. So am I,” Levi said. “Walk with me? You can tell me why all your dogs are named after trees,” he offered, taking a step back into the center of the hallway.

I don’t really get what’s lucky about that. Sully thought, but let it go. Levi’s movement reminded Sully of the bubble the boy created around him as he watched the few straggling students all but jump out of the tall boy’s way when he moved. Jesus, that was still ridiculous. Sully looked over to Levi’s butler before looking back at him and carefully falling into step as they headed off to the class that they apparently had been sharing this whole time. Who knew?

“D’you know how often I have to look at different types of wood? I’ve got plenty of knowledge in that area,” The DIYer asked, completely unaware of the double meaning he’d just provided, mind already wandering a bit to his and Ethan’s future trip to the hardware store. Some nice solid lumber was definitely on his list. “Just figured it would be an easy theme to follow if I ended up gettin’ several dogs, it was and I did,” The candy clacked lightly against the back of his teeth as he rolled the stick between his fingers before he bit down harshly on the remaining bit and tossed the stick away in the trash under the next water fountain they passed. “Guess I could have gone with car parts or types of tools, but at least wood is from a beautiful thing in nature first, right? Trees are nice.”

“Fair enough,” Levi said, politely ignoring the accidental double entendre. “I named my cat Blanc, ‘cause he’s white, but if anyone asks, I just tell them I’m a big fan of Knives Out.” He had learned a long time ago that life was just a collection of different roles, and the hard part was figuring out when to bring each one out. Some wanted him to be everything they built him up to be, the spoiled, trust-fund baby who excelled at everything. Others wanted him to be exactly that, but with the caveat that he failed at everything; it made them feel much better about themselves. Still, there was a contingent that wanted him to have untouched depths that they could explore, the rich boy with a heart of gold. He figured Sully was of the latter group.

The truth of him, the Levi beneath the suit, lay somewhere in between these ever shifting roles, but that was for him, and him alone. These shows of vulnerability were calculated displays, an almost militant effort to retcon his life into something at least halfway normal. Sully (and the rest of the world, quite frankly) didn’t need to know that his cat’s name came from a childhood obsession with Percy Shelley, born from long days in the Green-Locke library.

“It leaves something to be desired in terms of theme, but it fits.” He finally crunched down onto the candy in his mouth, tossing the stick into a nearby trash can. “Where’d you learn all that shit anyways? About the wood, I mean? Is there a class I missed?”

“Well I mean, there are woodshop classes at this school, dude,” Sully answered with a raised eyebrow, pulling one of the pencils Oli had gotten him out of the pocket of his outer shirt and started fiddling with it, sending the plastic wingnut up and down its spiral at impressive speeds. With a chance to speak about his mother, Sully didn't hold back. “But no, my ma likes to upcycle so I learned what I could from her and my uncle Del when I was a kid. She was always makin’ such cool shit and I always wanted to help her so I had a tool in my hand and knew their names and uses before I could ever use ‘em myself. It ain't that hard to retain when you learned it young, and Ma made sure I knew what I was doin’ once I did start usin’ them,” Sully thought back to one of the first projects with his mom, where he'd overestimated his first hammer strike and smashed his hand with the head, crying from the shock before realizing it hadn’t hurt. His mother had picked up the faux, foam headed tool from where Sully had dropped it and plainly stated that that was why you were careful and calculated with tools, and you knew what you were holding before you used it. It wouldn't always save you from pain or mistakes, but it saved you a helluva lot of stupid injuries. “What I didn't learn from them I picked up from harassin’ the other guys scroungin’ ‘round the scrap yard, or at community workshops once I got a little income for it. Most of it was just learnin’ things hands on though, y'know? Summer jobs in construction and shit. I'm good with my hands and they pay me shit rate under the table since I'm a minor.”

Levi stared at this boy he did not understand, and forced a smile. He had two moms, and still, he wasn’t sure he could remember them teaching him much of anything. Not like that at least, and never without the looming threat of their disappointment. Sully’s words reflected the absence back at him, and it stung. Monarch was right. You are a masochist. he thought as they approached the physics room. “Hmm. I didn’t realize anyone actually learned anything in those. My ex just used it to make me a shitty piggy bank.” He laughed at his own story and pulled open the classroom door, holding it for Sully. “After you.”

“Okay but was it functional as a piggy bank?” Sully asked, not quite seeing the problem. “Also that sounds more like a pottery paintin’ thing, it’s a bit different. Thanks,” He acknowledged the other boy holding the door from him, tapping the blonde’s bicep lightly with his fist as he passed. Ever one to encourage people to learn new things, new trades that can make them self sufficient- hell, that was his whole schtick on social media- Sully gave his confusingly prospective new friend an offer. “I’m assistin’ in teachin’ a juniors class at the community center next week if you wanna see what the simplified course is like. You’d be surrounded by kids though and I’d be up helping the volunteer the whole time. Maybe you’ll wanna build somethin’ yourself after you see how easy it is to make a birdhouse.”

“I can confidently say I’ve never done that before,” Levi said. He took a moment to ponder if a bit of fun and potential campaign inroads were worth a smashed finger. It was. “Sounds like a date.”

“Oh,” That had not been what he meant, but Levi seemed happy about the idea and Sully didn’t really find himself caring what he called it. It’s not like anything date-like could happen in a community center class. “Okay, sure!”

[LovelyComplex]

_{LOCATION: Ms. Belmonte's Homeroom
TIMESTAMP: After the Morning Show}

____________________________________________________________________


____________________________________________________________________
_{@LovelyComplex @Bee @Grimoire Gaming @Aces Away @Melissa @Fabricant451}

Missing the Morning Show due to plenty of distractions in the hallway, Philomena and Cael found their way into their homeroom, right in time to be marked ‘tardy’. Strategically though, Cael went to Ms. Cat and offered her first pick in sugar goodness (and even offered her an extra one). He could tell she needed it by how exhausted she looked. The school day just began! There was no need to end spirit week with EXHAUSTION. Thanks to his generosity and sweetness, his voice like honey and velvet, the two friends were no longer tardy. They were on time.

Neither Minty or Pixy Stix knew what had transpired prior to their arrival nor did they care. Yet. It was Game Day. They had better things to think about than drama. Like love, and love, and LOVE. Then again, they did have room for gossip. Okay, maybe they were a little curious. They liked knowing things just as much as Trixie and Jamie. They were Candies! It was their duty to understand the dynamics of their peers so they could interfere and assist them in their social circle for the better. Always for the better. Usually for the better. At least for the Power of Love.

Holding the cake pops, Minnie hid her distress of how she would handle her dare, having no idea who she should ask to the dance tomorrow that wasn’t her best friend. Instead she had her gaming face on and pranced around in the room to find the lucky first person, or people. She wasn’t just going to pick anyone. No. Minnie was just as smart as Cael, maybe less so in the books but in the sea of social high school society. She knew people that knew people that liked to talk. Being a Candy made it absolutely mandatory to be aware of who is who and what is what. For the Power of Love, of course.

The Lucky #1 that she had her eyes set on would be…

Drum roll, please.

Rat-a-tat-tat
Tat-ta-tat
Rat-a-tat-tat
Tat-ta-tat.

Andre King and her KPop sista’, Hana!

Hold the applause, please.
They still needed their dessert.

There was little to no challenge to get Andre going. He loved to talk and impressively, he knew plenty of what was going on. He deserved a cake pop and in return, she deserved tea. And Hana sitting right next to him was a happy coincidence so she could kill two birds with one stone and talk about the latest kpop sensations. Get gossip and feed her girl that loved KPop just as much as she did. “Hihi Andre!!! HANA!!!!” Minnie excitedly greeted, unable to wave because her hands were full. “Are you two hungryyyyyy? Because look what I have.”

She showcased the cake pops with flair and swag. “Stix and I worked super duper hard last night and thought we’d give all our friends a happy, sweet surprise. Do you like pirates? I did this one myself.” Minnie pointed at the one pirate face that looked disfigured and challenged. She wasn’t good at cake art. She was a dancer! But she did her bestest and she hoped her friends would appreciate the attempt. There was an attempt. “We also have cupcakes though. So if you don’t want a cake pop, Cael should be here soon with all the cupcakes. He’s just getting us a get out of jail free card right now. Oh!” She interrupted her train of thought with another train of thought. “Hana, did you hear the new song by SEVENTEEN (세븐틴)? Lalali?”

As Minnie and Cael rolled in as they typically do, Andre smirked slightly as he was bouncing a pen off of his desk. Minnie’s energy was incredibly infectious, and he couldn’t help but to feel his mood lift up as he witnessed her roll in with what appeared to be cake pops. Hopefully, Minnie was willing to share.

On the other hand, Hana was still pulling out her supplies. A binder, her pens and pencils, that one really good Japanese eraser, and so on and so forth. She was oblivious to what was happening at the front of the room, up until she heard a shrill voice scream her name.

“Huh- I-uh-what?” Hana stammered, before she put two and two together and saw what was going on. “Oh, cake pops! I’ll take one!” Hana beamed, as she plucked the pirate one from Minnie. It was definitely… rushed, but Hana appreciated the thought and effort. “Thanks, Minnie.”

“Biiitch, cake pops annd cupcakes? You don’t gotta say anything further. Lemme get both.” Andre said, sitting up in his chair and plucking his own cake pop. “How sweet of you.”

Staring at the cake pop, Hana was just about to eat it before Minnie said her name once again. “Oh yes, yes I did! I usually don’t listen to boy groups, but that song was sooo good.” Hana grinned again, “S. Coups killed it.”

“I ain’t into K-Pop like y’all, but from what I’ve seen… those dudes be making me feel some type of way.”

“Ugghhh, tell me about it, Andre,” Cael chimed in with a dreamy tone. The candy prince had a taste of the Korean persuasion once, and boy, was he an utterly delicious mouthful. Shaking himself out of his romantic reminiscing, Cael smiled and handed over a cupcake. “I hope you like them! …So, are you and the guys ready for the big game? Minty and I will probably polish up our routine during lunch… So excited to cheer you guys on though!”

“You know I’m fuckin ready.” Andre pointed the now-eaten cake pop at Cael, “I’ve never not been ready.”

The dancing princess nodded to her friends chatting, looking from left to right, side to side, and all around. She beamed when Hana and Andre acknowledged the delicious K-Pop boy band. Maybe just as delicious as these cupcakes they were serving. The boys were so hot and sometimes she wished she had a boyfriend just as hot. Alas, she didn’t. She would be forever alone because no boy noticed her that wasn’t her bestie. If she could explain her emotions in emojis it would be: Sad face. Lipstick. Disco ball.

Regardless of her lack of love life, she was one of the best genie-in-the-bottles there ever was to walk the halls of Beverly Hills High. It was her sworn duty to help her classmates harness the power of love. While she had no clue who would ever love her, Minnie knew that with a little fairy dust, wishes do come true. Dreams are what you make them. Life could be DISNEY. Cael soon entered the fray and it was then when she noticed Stella fuming. Fiery, fierce and frustrated, big boobie blonde goddess. That was Stella Manning. Lacking self control or spatial awareness, Minnie called out, “STELLA! YOOOHOOOO! COME GET SOME CAKE~!” She lifted the tray of cake pops high in the air before being rewarded with Ms. B reprimanding her.

“Philomena, please, I have a headache and it isn’t even 8 yet.”

“Sowwie,” Minnie apologized to Ms. Cat before profusely waving at Stella to come join them as she placed the cake pops on Andre’s desk. Whatever made her grumpy could be easily amended with something sweet. As they did wait for Stel to join them, Minnie decided if none of them would start the gossip talk, she would, “So, when Cael and I skipped down the hall, we ran into, what’s his name? He’s like two years younger than us… young lad, uh… no matter! We ran into that boy and he was holding Trixie’s bag and we were like well that’s weird. And then he was like Theo told him to bring it to her. Like, oh my goodness, do you think they’re getting back together? How do we feel about that if they are?”

“Eww, so not good. He gives me the ick.” Cael replied, following Minnie’s gaze to one of his other besties, Stella, who looked rather peeved. “Trix deserves a dance partner that can keep up with her. Ginger might be a spice, but it's not the right one for a salsa, ya feel?” Cael giggled playfully at his own puns.

“What twisted metaphor is this?” Ramón asked as he appeared behind Cael, having slipped into the classroom just moments before. The shortest boy had class in Mr. Phoenix’s class, so it had taken him some time to get there once the Morning Show had ended. After that, it had been a matter of walking up to Belmonte’s desk and sliding over a particularly nice bracelet from his bribery stash in his bag. The woman did let him spend quite a large amount of time in her classroom without reporting him, so some nice jewelry slid her way every now and then was the least he could do to compensate her. He’d imparted his own compliments to the woman, ever easy to be a suck up to, before making his way over to his gaggle of friends to catch the tail end of Cael’s words. “What are we talking about here?”

Stella Manning was fucking pissed.

God forbid she is thoughtful once and it comes back to bite her in the ass. It wasn’t often she thought of anyone other than herself, especially her on again off again beau, so the fact that she did that morning said more than words ever could. Was it mostly for her own personal gain? Sure! But nonetheless she had decided to do something nice for him and what did she get?

Ignored.

The blonde hated being ignored, it was the antithesis of what she stood for. Anyone with a pulse knew that Stella loved attention, and currently, she was receiving a lack of it from the one person she wanted most. So, she sulked in homeroom, hoping someone would ask her about it so she could fly off the cuff. And Minnie calling her over was the exact invitation she needed, even if her energy was a little much for her tastes at times. The girl stood from her seat and sauntered over, resting bitch face out in full force as she inspected the cake pops, taking one. “Thanks,” Stella plainly stated, before turning to Cael, “Theo can kick rocks with open toed shoes. In fact, I know a few other people who I’d recommend that to…”

“You look so gloomy, girl,” Minnie pointed out, adding a pout to emphasize her concern. There was a lot of conversation going on around them but it seemed like the focal point should be on the blonde bombshell with the rain cloud over her head, “Oh and Mimooooo, we were talking about Theo having Trixie’s bag for some reason and like totally sending some kid to deliver it but you know that might just be because he found it or something. Maybe they didn’t have sex. That’s irrelevant right now though. Stellaaaaaa, what happened? And why do you have all the coffees in the world?”

“Hi, I made you one with extra frosting,” Cael whispered to Mo, who had appeared behind him just moments ago. He passed the aforementioned cupcake back to him. Although he was talking to his third bestie that had arrived, Cael kept his focus on the drama unfolding before them. Stella looked ready to explode and the pixie was totally here for it, with a steaming cup of tea.

“Extra?” Mo whispered back, attention equally on the unfolding drama. That didn’t keep the eye roll from his face, however, as he took sight of the frosting laden cupcake he was handed. “Stix what the fuck? Take some of this, there’s more frosting than cake. And yes, Stella,” Ramón tilted his head in the direction of his childhood bestie. “Do tell on why you’re still…holding on to that.”

Stella sighed, setting down the tray with the three cups on a nearby desk. She popped the Chai and the extra shot out and set it down the two beverages in front of Cael and Minnie. “I won’t be needing these anymore, go nuts.” She grabbed her drink and took a long sip before turning to Mo, “Is the universe punishing me? I know I have my moments, but I like to think I’m a generally decent person.” The blonde quipped, ever the dramatic, “Ethan isn’t replying to me. Normally he replies in between 6 - 9 minutes because he’s needy, so anything above 15 means he’s purposefully avoiding me. That’s what I get for being generous, I suppose.”

“Oh, honey,” Mo intoned, staring at the broiling blonde in front of him. “This is exactly why this was supposed to be temporary. That boy was never meant to last for you, and now you’re stressing out over him?” The Candy King tutted, hand still holding the cupcake out for Cael to take some icing off of. He leaned against the nearest desk and raised an eyebrow. “If he doesn’t respond to you, he doesn’t deserve you, babes.”

Cael made a peeved face at Mo for rejecting his thoughtful gift. Feeling snarky and feeding off of Stella’s energy, Cael licked a dollop of frosting off of the cupcake and placed it back on Mo’s hand expectantly. “It’s true, he doesn’t… and, like, what else better does he have to do at this time of day?” Cael, perhaps a bit deviously, egged on the situation.

“Don’t give me that look like you’ve won,” Mo glared at his pixie before taking a bite of his defiled cupcake and chewing it defiantly in Cael’s face. “We’ve swapped spit before, you think that was going to scare me off?”

“I guess either way I made one special for you,” Cael smirked victoriously, clearly pleased with himself.

“Boys ain’t shit, Stella.” Andre remarked, ”Speaking of boys that ain’t shit, you know what y’all just missed?”

Andre leaned in closer.

“Y’all see Decky and Jamie? Those two were trading words, and I swear Decky was bouta deck his ass.”

Hana, eavesdropping slightly, leaned in to fill an excruciatingly crucial detail that Andre was omitting, “JJ’s chipmunk interrupted it though. You guys should’ve seen it. PJ screamed.”

“So that’s what that was…” Andre chuckled, “If it wasn’t for that rat, it could’ve become Drake v. Kendrick all over again. Hatin’ the way you walk, your talk type of shit.”

“Well that’s certainly more interesting than my homeroom this morning,” Mo mused, using the change in topic to avoid letting Cael know that he didn’t have a comeback. He didn’t blame PJ for screaming. Mo himself was no disney princess, the rodents could stay away from him as well. This though, this was what he was here for. “Was JJ a part of it? Do we know these words they spoke, or are we working on body language right now, dear Dre?”

“‘Dear Dre’ be working on both. With their body language, the looks on their faces, the words… ain’t no fuckin way it’s anything but.”

“Jamie this, Decky that, who cares.” Stella rolled her eyes, taking an angry bite of her cake pop. “You’re the ones who just said that boys ain’t shit, so why are we wasting our breath talking about them?” The blonde expressed with her mouth full, not caring that her words were mostly jumbled. She turned to Mo, “Are you sure you didn’t see Ethan in homeroom before you came here and crashed mine?”

“Bitch, did you not just say not to waste our breath talking about them? Pick a lane,” Ramón admonished with an eye roll before he finished his cupcake, making her wait for his answer. Once the confection was gone, Mo ran his fingers through Cael’s hair- his way of saying thank you, it was good- and shifted his weight from the desk onto the other boy while staring Stella down like a devious villain. “Not only was Ethan not in homeroom, but Andy was missing as well. It was another reason that I just had to stop by for our morning chat. Aside from the wonderful treats from Stix and Minty, of course. I was going to ask you if you knew anything, but it seems we’re all floating in the abyss.”

“Party planning! Or, or, or, WHAT IF he is trying to surprise you and ask you PROPERLY for the homecoming dance?! Maybe he’s getting flowers or he is keeping you on your toes so he can surprise you sometime today with a rizzy date proposal!” Minnie had downed the espresso shot and was currently covering her mouth as she chewed a nummy, white frosting, red pirate cupcake. “That would be so amazing if he just sweeps you off your feet today.”

“Hell would freeze over before Ethan Green attempted to woo a woman.” Stella scoffed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, “Besides, we already made plans for the dance. He’s picking me up at 8pm sharp, not a minute before,” The girl sighed, exasperated. “My best guess is he and Andy are off doing god knows what in preparation for tomorrow. I take it everyone has heard about the party at the Vineyard?”

“The who what now?” Cael perked up, his eyes snapping open from the relaxation of getting head scritches from Ramón. He snuggled into the comfort of having one of his best friends leaning into him. If there was any merit to the whole love languages thing, physical touch was certainly one of his. “There’s a party? Tomorrow? Like after the dance — Oh, did you finish my outfit for tomorrow?” Cael’s words matched his attention drifting from one thought to another as he looked from Stella to Mo.

“All you bitches questioning me today,” Ramón scoffed, moving his hand off of Cael’s head to give him a reprimanding poke in his cheek. “First Stella in the car and now you? When have I ever failed any of you enough to deserve this? Of course it’s finished, you just need to come over once you’re done cheering so we can do final adjustments if needed,” He stared them both down, letting his displeasure at their perceived impatience be known before he moved on. “Ethan is throwing a party at his family’s vineyard tomorrow after the dance, they announced it on the Morning Show.”

“I’ve known about it for a while, Ethan has not stopped yapping about it.”

“A party for the whole school at the vineyard… these Green folks are different.” Andre said, “Wish I had a family vineyard.”

When Himani Chakrabarti heard that somewhere in the school someone was giving out cupcakes, she made it her mission before first period to acquire said cupcakes. It wasn’t a difficult mission given that she knew well enough that if anyone would have sweet treats during the breakfast hours it would be members of the Candies and Candies tended to congregate with the business teacher during homeroom. Business was something the Candies dealt in; the business of who was kissing who was a very lucrative business after all. Personally, Himani didn’t quite understand it. Who was dating who, who was not dating who, it all seemed very…exhausting. And considering Himani was one of the rare students who had the same level of energy at eight in the morning as she did when the school day ended, to be exhausting for her was…an accomplishment.

They called it ‘tea’ or whatever, but now that she thought about it most people drank coffee in the morning so why not call it coffee? Didn’t matter. What mattered was cake and so when the morning show ended and there was a little time after attendance and before first period, Himani was out of her homeroom like a bullet and heading towards Belmonte’s class. She didn’t sprint. Not after almost breaking her leg when taking a turn too fast and tumbling down stairs. She was fine. Totally fine.

While the conversation in room 105 turned from boys to parties (as was always the topic in school, it seemed), a voice announced her arrival before her body did. “I heard there was cupcakes and I’m here about cupcakes are they for anyone or just for people in this class I wasn’t quite clear, I just heard from someone who got a message about ‘cupcakes and kiki’ but I don't know any student named Kiki, she must be new I’m sure they’re great.” Himani entered room 105 and hadn’t taken a breath since she started talking.

“Anyway, can I have a cupcake?”

“Of course, sweets! Here ya go!” Cael chirped, holding the tray out for her to pick her favorite.

“Oh, wow, they all look so good and colorful and you made these yourself? That’s so cool, sometimes I bake things but they’re definitely not good enough to share like this.” Her hand hovered over the tray like a claw grabber arcade game, moving back and forth as her eyes tried to decide which one she liked the look of more. She settled on a cupcake with red frosting. It was a school color and Himani was repping the school all hours of the day today.

“Wow, they’re so light and fluffy to the touch and the frosting…” She didn’t finish her thought before lifting the cupcake towards her mouth. Just before she took a bite she lowered it and looked towards Cael, blinking her bright, wide eyes so quickly it looked like she was overcompensating or blinking for the very first time. “These…these are vegan friendly, right?”

Minnie had gone from the conversation surrounding her to her phone, going down the rabbit hole of her friends on Facebook, and their friends on Facebook, trying to decide who she should ask out to the dance. The espresso might’ve put her in an internal panic, since it isn’t something she drank often (if at all). Truth be told, Minnie had never-ever asked someone on a date before and Cael was CRUEL for daring her too. Not looking up from her phone, she speedily answered, “Yes, yes. Cael is really big on that stuff. Like vegan friendly, gluten free, uhhhhh…. no peanuts because we can’t risk allergies like that. Am I missing anything Stix?” Her gaze paused on a handsome face on her screen and thought to herself ‘what if’, trying to imagine a scenario where she would run into him.

“It’s my first time trying it, I hope they’re good...” Cael immediately interjected, as if to defend them up front, just in case they sucked. “I used vegan cream cheese for the frosting and everything! We wanted to make sure they’d be something everyone could enjoy, and I mean, if I’m gonna maybe have a bakery someday I ought to get a jump start learning alternatives!” He beamed proudly at Himani.

“Oh, vegan cream cheese? Not vegan buttercream? You probably meant the same thing, this looks way too good.” Given the go-ahead, Himani took an eager bite of the cupcake. And then she chewed. And kept her smile. And chewed. And really tried to maintain her smile. “Not used to not using eggs?” Himani would never say anything bad about anything a student, or a friend, made and that held true now. Even if it was a little…dry in the cake part. “I don’t wanna tell you how to bake because you’re great at it and I don’t know anything but in my experience eating vegan if you add just a little bit of applesauce to the batter you’ll be thanked by vegans everywhere. Or at least me. Don’t get me wrong, this one is so good.” As if to prove a point, Himani took another bite. It was not one she necessarily wanted to, but she gave a thumbs up as she did.

“Oh, well yeah, I meant to use cream cheese… because they’re red velvet,” Cael defended weakly, but it was already too late. She hated them, oh no. The sparkle in his eye faltered slightly. “Right, applesauce, I’ll try that next time! I hope you’ll still be willing to taste test for me?”

“Not only will I be willing to taste test, I’d be willing to share my recipes. Not that I have recipes I mostly just got stuff from the internet but I’ll bring you some pumpkin bars. Because it’s October and pumpkins are everywhere! You like pumpkin, right? Of course you do, everyone likes pumpkin! Did you know they put it in coffee? Anyway, taste test, yes, cupcake, good, pep rally, see you all there. I’ll be the one in the big pirate costume!”

“Sounds great, see you there!” Cael chirped in his usual bubbly tone. As soon as Himani was out of earshot, the temporarily red-haired pixie glared at his best friends. “Why didn’t any of you tell me they sucked?!”

[BrutalBx]

---

---

“A-ho Charlie,

I still don’t fully understand this whole need of yours to communicate via letters…well I mean I do, it’s because you’re a nerd who loves to read and you’re also terrible at answering your phone but I digress. It’s been a little while since we last spoke, the move out west was hectic and trying to slot myself into a brand new life has been tough. Tell me again why I decided to do this? Anyway, Decky and the crew say hi! Aunt Jadyn says don’t knock Poppy up. Seriously though don’t do it, we can’t afford a baby. Wrap your tool big brother. Also tell her I love her and miss her.

Well what can I say really? Beverly Hills is a completely different animal to the Reservation and Gravette. We thought we had it rough, these kids, by the Creator, they are an absolute mess. Seriously, Charlie Jay, I am absolutely surrounded by Alexis and David Rose’s. You would have a conniption and probably wanna pull guns. Not even kidding, my first day here I saw a group of girls doing a choreographed dance number on the roof. Like who even does that?

Once I got all my stuff moved into Jadyn’s I decided to go out and look for a job before the first week of school started. Luckily, most places here are always hiring part time staff, so it didn’t take long for me to get signed up to this little coffee shop called Plouf. I know Jadyn said I could stay with her free of charge but I’m not gonna let auntie take me in and not pay her something back. I wasn’t raised like that.

Still trying to get a bead on the social situation here. There’s a lot of cliques and clubs here, it’s damn near tribal. We’ve got the Hive, there’s an Elite here too! There are literally two open drug running groups called the PLC and the Toxic Twins, like how even does that work? Fucking white people. I’ve met a few people who seem cool, like my new colleagues at Plouf, Penny and Kim. This girl, Isla, is absolute adorbs. There’s also a lot of potential here for me to get my flirt on. And before you roll your eyes like I know you are absolutely doing as you’re reading this; your baby sister is single and allowed to mingle. Not all of us get to live next to our soulmates all our lives. There’s some big party tonight, maybe I’ll meet someone or someones. You know me, love enough for everyone.

The homesickness is getting real now. I know it’ll pass in time, I know I’ll find my people here and I can grow towards the light with them like a bundle of flowers but it doesn’t mean I miss everyone any less. Topanga, Heather, Forrest and you, you stupid shitass. I wish you were here but I know you’ve got your senior year to deal with too and obviously your time is consumed with Pops and writing the next great American novel. Still, if at any point you wanna come visit, I wouldn’t be against it.

I guess I’ll leave you with this quote I found the other day from Chief Dan George of the Tsleil-Waututh Nation;
May the stars carry your sadness away. May the flowers fill your heart with beauty. May hope forever wipe away your tears. And, above all, may silence make you strong.

It made me think of you, you know since you can’t go a single conversation without quoting something from a dusty old book. The libraries are huge here Charlie Jay, you’d love them.

Konoronhkwa
Your sister,
Mitena.”

---

---

With the letter safety deposited in the nearest post box and her latest big hat purchase safely adorned on the top of her raven head, Tena tapped the side of her AirPods, the song playing a gentle reminder of those she left behind. Paint the Silence was going to be her brother's wedding song someday. She tightly held the string of her satchel with both hands and began the short walk towards her new school.

Her outfit of the day was bold and would no doubt draw some attention to her but that didn’t much matter to her. Mitena was a quick study and an avid learner. She knew that the majority of her new compatriots loved to have all eyes on them and that was fine. She hadn’t joined the student body of Beverly Hills High to steal a crown or win a popularity contest. She had done so in search of that elusive thing called adventure.

Life in its early stages had not been too kind for Mitena Strongbow. Her father James had already breathed his last breath in this world before she had taken her first. The Reservation that was raised on didn’t have much, most kids were sent away for schooling. It was truly destitute but Tena was happy there. She had her Mom and her aunties and the community always looked out for its own.

Then her Mom got the diagnosis that they had all been dreading; cancer. She fought with all she could but soon she was gone and Tena was alone.
She bounced around from there; house to house, friend to friend, then one day she received a letter from a boy named Charlie. He spoke like someone with a vast education and claimed to be her brother through James, born a month before her. It was the curiosity and want for excitement that led her to jump on a train to Gravette to meet this boy. When she arrived, Tena didn’t find her long lost brother in the throes of high society, a tortured poet amongst the upper class, she found a boy, in dirty black jeans, a leather jacket and deeply embedded in the underbelly and macabre landscape of a forgotten time and place.

She loved him instantly.

After that, Mitena regularly took the train to see her brother and his friends, some of whom became like a new family for her. Before the end of her junior year of high school, she received a call from her aunt Jadyn; who asked if she wanted to come stay with her and experience her senior year under the shining light of the Hollywoodland sign. At first she was unsure but Charlie told her that some of his friends had moved out that way so she wouldn’t be alone. Plus he reminded her of a promise Tena had made to her mother once upon a time; a promise that she would never allow adventure to pass her by. So, she accepted and after selling most of her belongings, the young indigenous girl found herself on a plane to the land of make believe to see truly how the other half lived.

With the song still reverberating in her ears, Tena wandered the halls towards her homeroom, her eyes dancing like flickering candles as she watched the people around her. There were young couples, lost and in love, like the theatre girl and the metal head, there were boys up to mischief, there was whatever the fuck that Addie girl was, truly if BHHS was an island it would be one for misfit toys. Perhaps it was Neverland and she was now wading through the armies that called themselves the Lost Boys?

Wherever she was, Mitena Strongbow was ready to take it on head first. Like her brother always said ”There was a tide in the affairs of men.” And when that tide became a wave, she intended to ride it all the way to the end and see what was beyond the horizon.

[smarty0114]

_{TIMESTAMP: Lunch Period
@smarty0114 & @LovelyComplex}

____________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________



____________________________________________________________________

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
Hey
I’m sorry

There was a brief pause before Jamie's phone began to buzz with numerous text notifications.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
I fucked up. I wasn’t myself and I feel like shit.
I’ve sobered up a bit so this is me.
I need space because I can’t deal.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
I said some fucked up shit, did some fucked up shit
and this whole situation got me fucked up.
Can’t keep doing this.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
I want more, Jamie, and that’s not what you want.
I’ll respect that.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
Moving on.
I need to.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
I’m sorry I’m not right for you but I know it’ll be ok.
You’re badass and I know you’re gonna do great.

There was a long pause and all that could be seen on the screen was AJ typing.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
Typing…
Typing…
Typing…

Similar to Mordechai texting AJ, the length of the message that came through on Jamie's phone did not match the wait it took to send it.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
Good luck.

And then it stopped. Everything, all at once, stopped. No phone buzz, no notifications, and no 'I love you'. There was nothing more for AJ to say. He was finally following through with his words and what he needed to do. He needed it all to stop so he’d do just that. Make it all stop. With two simple words, AJ stopped everything.

Good luck.

Jamie looked down at his phone, foot tapping against the floor of the Newsroom. His stomach had twisted itself into knots when he saw AJ’s name appear on his screen, and it had only gotten more tangled as he read the messages. Jamie Callaghan hadn’t cried since he was fifteen, but he wanted to right now. He wanted to cry and scream into the void, but there was no void to be found. Only the judgmental faces of his classmates and all the potential consequences of absolutely losing it in front of them.

His mind spun, trying and failing to process the sudden stream of information. AJ had broken up with him, then AJ had…well he didn’t really know what to call AJ’s behavior earlier. He thought of the lectures the teachers had given them freshman year, of the talks he and Katie had received from their parents when they came home with matching hickeys. This wasn’t like the horror stories he’d heard…but it wasn’t not like them either. He couldn’t help but trip on the context of it all, blinded in part by the AJ he’d known, and his own part in making it disappear.

Because he didn’t want that moment to be how he remembered AJ. Angry and hurt, probably coked up (he didn’t have the bandwidth to even approach that can of worms) and worst of all, scary. He wanted to remember driving up the coast with him, top down, wind tousling their hair and music drowning out their laughter. He wanted to remember climbing out his bedroom window to watch the stars from his roof, dull as they were against the LA sky. He wanted the late night conversations, and the backseat hookups and fuck, there might’ve even been a part of him that missed doing homework in the garage while AJ tinkered with his toys.

And yet, he couldn’t have any of that anymore, not without thinking of the way his stomach dropped when he was between AJ and that wall. He ground his teeth together as he felt his eyes sting. Jamie Callaghan hadn’t cried since he was fifteen, and he wouldn’t start now. Instead, he would do the next best thing.

He texted Trixie.

To: Trix
where are you???
i need to scream

He waited a few minutes, tapping his fingers against the table in front of him, anxiously awaiting a response. When none came, he picked up the phone again.

To: Trix
hellooooooo???
answer
emergency
are you dead??
i stg
i’m coming to find you

Moments later, he was zooming in on a map, where a picture of Trixie hovered over the parking lot. What the fuck was she doing out there? He snagged his bag and threw it over his shoulder with a huff, storming out of the Newsroom without a word, and making a beeline for the parking lot. The student body didn’t move out of his way quite as quickly as they did for The Hive or The Elite, but it was quick enough.

Once he was outside, it didn’t take long to find Trixie’s parking spot. Her car was parked right next to his, as inseparable as they were it seemed. He marched over, expecting to find her doing homework in the driver’s seat, or working on an article for the paper, away from the distractions of the school. Instead, she was splayed out across the back row, passed out. “Trixie, what the fuck?” he said, mostly for his own benefit before he began rapping his knuckles against her windows. “Bitch, wake up, I thought you were dead!”

What year was it?

When Trixie awoke, her stomach had the rumblies and her hair was disheveled. She could barely process the knocking on her window. Her best friend was outside clearly trying to check on her but her mind was set on two things: her thirst and her hunger. Her gaze searched her car and by luck, she caught sight of water and a bag of snacks. Reaching forward, she grabbed the water first and began downing it. As she drank, Trixie noticed Jamie watching her and she held up a finger, telling him to hold on a second. She needed to quench this intense thirst. What the fuck did Monarch do to her? After she practically emptied it, she urgently grabbed the bag and pulled out the Takis Fuego chips. Unceremoniously she stuffed her face.

Why was she so hungry?

Trixie had cravings and urges but nothing like this. She felt like she hadn’t eaten in ages and was going to die from starvation. With her mouth full, Trixie finally unlocked the door and beckoned Jamie to come in, not ready to go outside just yet. After ravenously eating a couple more handful of chips, she gasped and cursed, “Fucking hell… remind me to be with you when I try to smoke ever again. I’m so sweaty. I need a shower. And I’m HUNGRY. What time is it even?”

Jamie looked down at his phone then up at her as he climbed into the car. “Queen, it’s noon. You slept through second period.” he said, slamming the door behind him to punctuate his words. His own problems seemed to melt away, subdued by his friend’s strange behavior. “Since when do you get high in the middle of the day with Monarch?” He raised an eyebrow before digging around in his bag for his leftover lunch. “You want a granola bar?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Trixie accepted with her chip bag on her lap. As she licked her fingers, she reached for the granola with her free hand. Would she survive? She had no idea. She was so hungry, it was hard to fathom. The small Latina didn’t think anyone could get this hungry but here she was throwing all elegance out the window, inhaling food she wouldn’t usually partake in that was conveniently by her. She figured the bag full of snacks was from Monarch, which would explain how she got here but how did the girl retrieve her bag? Did she run into Theo? Did Theo mention something to her friend? Oh god. The thought of Monarch and Theo talking caused Trixie to nervously chuckle. What if he told Monarch lies and she believed it? To hide her internal turmoil from her best friend she bit into the granola.

Chewing in silence before finally answering Jamie’s first question, Trixie admitted, “I had a real shit morning and I might’ve been caught crying so rather than tell them anything, I just agreed to get high. And you know what? I’d rather feel famished than like shit. How ‘bout you? You tend to track me when you need me. What’s up?” Trixie deflected, turning the conversation around and toward Jamie. It was a clear maneuver that her friend knew well. When she didn’t want to go into detail she volleyed back in hopes he’d cave first.

No matter how long they’ve known each other, Trixie habitually avoided talking about the bad. Jamie usually had to pull her teeth in order for her to admit her hurt. Kingsleys were stubborn as fuck. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell him either. It was just whenever she thought about it, she could feel an uncomfortable sensation throughout her body and she didn't want to feel that. She was ashamed to feel bad. Beatrix Kingsley considered sadness, fear, and guilt as weakness and didn’t want to be pitied, not even by her best friend. If he probed, she’d answer but she was going to buy herself time for as long as she could. That’s just how Trixie was. How do you even explain being sexually harassed by your ex without it sounding like something horrible? Was it right for her to paint Theo in that light? What gave her the right? She broke his heart, maybe she deserved it.

On any other day, Jamie might’ve pushed harder. Today though, he was all too happy to dive into his own issues. “AJ dumped me, like, out of nowhere,” he said, letting his head fall back against the seat. “Look at this text. I mean, what do I even do with that?” He handed his unlocked phone over to her. Realistically, he knew exactly what he was supposed to do with that text. It was plain as day; walk away, and let it go. Unfortunately, he’d never been great at either of them. “He’s not himself right now. This is just…I don’t know what it is, but it’s stupid.” Something stopped him from telling the whole story of this morning. Maybe because he knew how it sounded, or maybe because he just didn’t want to relive it.

Okay. This was surprising yet not surprising all at the same time. Trixie wiped her hands on the napkins that Monarch also provided in the plastic bag before grabbing the phone to examine the text. Silently, she scanned and analyzed every word. Once she was done digesting AJ’s message she looked up at Jamie, examining his expression. Not only did he press forward with her issue, volunteering to start with his problems, which was not like him, but he looked like shit. No matter how hard he could mask his stress, she could see the confusion in his stare and how he was in complete and utter disbelief. It didn’t take long before she saw the bruise on his neck. Trixie gritted her teeth, “Did he hurt you?” Her hunger turned to anger, seeing how not long ago she too was put in a predicament this morning with her ex. “What happened this morning?” Trixie sharply asked, her expression growing cold.

Jamie’s hand flew instinctually to his neck, trying to play it off like he was scratching an itch. “No, not really.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “He just…he shoved me and grabbed my arm–it wasn’t bad it was just…I don’t know. He’s not like that, I swear.” He heard it as soon as the words fell out of his mouth. “Okay, I know how that sounds, but I am not a battered woman. I’m fine.” He shook his head. “I may or may not have tried to get him and the Gearheads blacklisted from Ethan’s party, and Levi may or may not have told me to go kick rocks.”

Furrowing her brows at his explanation, Trixie tried to ease her jaws and relax. The anxiety from earlier, that sat in her stomach, made it so easy for her to grind her teeth and look unamused. She felt sick. Her head was pounding too from the pressure and there was this uncontrollable rage coursing through her small body. Her friend needed her. She had to stay calm and not lose her cool. “You do realize if that wasn’t something you gave consent to, you can press charges on AJ, right? We could skip all that law bullshit though! I can take my gun out of my glove department...” Trixie’s voice trailed off as her hands subtly shaked. The thought in her mind wasn’t that of AJ Tyler but of Theodore Van Cise. She didn’t even care about Jamie’s petty reaction of trying to prevent the Gearheads from going to the party - Levi was the worst person for him to go to and when she had a cool head she’d address that - what she cared about and was hyper fixating on was the fact that AJ hurt Jamie. After putting the plastic bag filled with both snacks and garbage on the ground, she reached over her center console, trying to climb over it, to get to her glove department, “Just say the word, Jamie, and I’ll shoot his fucking head off. Like why the hell was he doing party drugs or alcohol at 8am in the goddamn morning? ‘I’ve sobered up’ the fuck? Yeah, no, not today. Bitches gonna’ die.”

“Oh my god, we are not going to kill him,” Jamie playfully shoved her back into her seat. He wanted to do a lot to AJ Tyler, but homicide wasn’t one of those things. He laughed, and as the laughter subsided, he stared at Trixie with the kind of look you can only get from someone who knows you pretty damn well. “And I don’t need the cops. It was…shitty and weird, and it’s done.” Despite everything happening with him, he could tell that Trixie was off, to say the least. He had a sneaking suspicion that her reaction was less about him, and more about whatever had led her to Monarch’s smoky embrace. “Okay, why were you having a shitty morning? Don’t bullshit, you’re clearly in a mood.”

When Jamie turned the tables, bringing the focus on her, Beatrix grew silent. She looked from Jamie to her hands and found it hard to disclose her experience to him. He was her best friend. If she couldn’t tell him, who would she be able to go to? “Um,” the small Latina whispered, clasping her hands together to ground her. My Bea. She could hear his voice and it made her sick to her stomach. Was it wrong for her to put Theo in such a bad light? He was checking on her even if he overstepped boundaries… he was checking on her. It was similar to Jamie’s encounter with AJ, right? But then why was he able to tell her what happened and she found herself speechless. Lost for words.

Tightening her grip on her hands, she played back her morning and how surprised she was. The shock, the confusion, and… the fear. He didn’t hurt her. He would never hurt her. She broke his heart but he wasn’t capable of harming her. She’d be an idiot to think he’d lay a finger on her, right? “Um,” she repeated, her eyes beginning to water. Reliving the memory, stuck in the bathroom, Trixie’s breath shortened. Something she’s never experienced in her life.

She couldn’t breathe.

Frozen in her tracks, Trixie closed her eyes as her tears began to trail down her cheeks. “Can… we… talk…” she stammered, catching her breath in between her words. She wildly shook her head, her hair covering her face as she did so, to get his smile, his touch, and his eyes out of her head. She needed to get a grip. “To…night. My… place.” With Theo as her next door neighbor, Trixie didn’t want to be home alone tonight and her mom was in another country with one of her star figure skaters, her dad was at a conference, and all her brothers no longer lived in the nest.

Trixie was utterly alone.

Stopping this sudden fit of terror to the best of her capabilities, having no idea she was experiencing a panic attack, Trixie released her hands and slapped her cheeks, swallowing her tears, “I lied to you,” she admitted, redirecting her train of thought to something less intense. “This morning…” she breathed, finding it easier to talk about the time they were together versus the time they decided to go about their days to their own personal hell. “Marcos isn’t getting anyone knocked up. Actually, my life is so… lonely!” Trixie forced a smile on her face. Her voice went up an octave. There was clear anxiety in her tone. “I spend so much time focused on my future and school,” she continued to explain, finally meeting Jamie’s gaze. “That… I feel so empty.” Trixie’s guard completely dropped at that moment. While she wasn’t able to talk about her morning, she was capable of talking about her internal crisis that she’s been feeling for months now. Trixie was a fucking mess and she was so desperate not to be. “I go home some weeks completely alone. My parents are very busy people and outside of you, I suck at trusting. I have ‘friends’ but only you really know me. Look at me, my grades are great and I have a plan for the future. Woohoo. Then why am I still miserable? What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Jamie furrowed his brow as concern etched a frown across his face. “Babe…” Jamie sighed, and chewed his bottom lip. He wasn’t used to seeing Trixie like this. Out of sorts wasn’t even the right phrase for it. She was spiraling, worse than he was, which was saying a lot. He put his own freefall on pause. It was surprisingly easy to do, with Trixie’s sanity on the line. “The only thing wrong with you is that you think there’s something wrong with you.” He tilted his head. “I’m gonna sound like Katie for a second, but I think you need a good time. Like, ASAP. So yes, I will come over tonight, and I will bring a bottle of my parents’ favorite champagne. We can do a spa night and order sushi, and pretend like our lives are not falling to pieces.” He paused, before adding, “And you’ll tell me what the fuck happened this morning, because it absolutely was not Bambi ruining your shirt.”

Wiping her fingers under her eyes, Trixie gave a genuine smile and nodded, “I’d like that a lot. And I promise. I’ll tell you everything, I just don’t want to cry at school right now. God, I missed second period?” Burying her emotions deep, deep down to be a functional human being in BHHS society, Trixie glanced at her rear-view mirror to see her hair going every which way. God, she looked like she just had rough sex and Trixie was, sadly, still a virgin. Raising her arm, she wafted her armpits before grumbling, “I should slip in the gym locker room to shower. People will talk and assume the worst.”

“Yeah, no, you definitely should. I love you, but this is not a good look right now.”

[Hey Im Jordan]

The camera panned out to show the capacity crowd gathered at Madison Square Garden, one of the last shows AWE was running before their biggest event of the year; the Showcase of Immortals. In the ring was a table with a black cloth over it, and a binder containing the contract to the main event of Starcade: Caiden Winters vs Drayden for the Undisputed AWE championship.

Sat at the table was long-time AWE fan favorite Drayden, dressed to the nines in a dark suit. Falling to an injury almost a year ago now, Drayden had recently returned from the shelf. He shocked fans by returning to align with Roddy Quinn, the boss of AWE, who had been spending the time since Drayden’s injury trying to stop Caiden Winters’s meteoric rise. Unsuccessful on his own, Roddy had been forced to bring out the biggest gun he had: his ace.

Upon his return, Drayden had tried to explain things to fans who wouldn’t listen to him, or Roddy. Caiden wasn’t who they wanted as their champion! Caiden hadn’t even beaten Drayden for the title, he wasn’t their champion. He was a fraud, a fake. Someone Drayden promised to personally expose.

The fans had rejected him. They didn’t want Drayden’s AWE anymore, they wanted the new one. The one ushered in by Caiden Winters. Caiden followed a long road to get to where he was now, holding the AWE world championship around his waist. After successful feuds against Roddy Quinn himself, Oscar O’Sullivan, and finally Gethin, Caiden Winters had built a level of groundswell support in AWE that hadn’t been seen in years.

When Drayden came back and insisted he would take that away because it was what the fans needed even if they didn’t know it yet, and… they rejected him. The lights dimmed and music filled the arena. The sound of rabid cheering filled the atmosphere as the camera focused in on Drayden and the smirk that was on his lips in anticipation. His opponent had arrived.

The camera panned to the top of the stage as Caiden Winters finally stepped into the spotlight, to an explosion of cheers. He walked with purpose as he approached the squared circle, his eyes never leaving his opponent who was waiting for him in the ring. This wasn’t Caiden’s first contract signing on AWE television, and it likely wouldn’t be the last - but it was clear from the way he held himself this was the most important.

His first match in the company had been against Drayden, and Drayden’s last match before his injury and time on the shelf had been against Caiden. They’d competed for the very title that now rested on Caiden’s shoulder, the AWE championship. Even though he’d turned up short in the match, when Drayden had wound up on the shelf after their match, Caiden had openly boasted about being the one who put the Heart & Soul of AWE to rest. This wasn’t just a match for the title, it wasn’t even ‘just’ a match for the future of AWE. This was a blood feud.

Caiden stalked his prey, walking around the ring before even stepping up onto the apron. Rabid fans screamed his name, a prophetic warning for Drayden. ‘CAIDEN’S GONNA KILL YOU’ they screamed, and it had a visible effect on Drayden. The smirk dissipated on his face as he held eye contact with the circling Caiden and one of his legs bounced up and down restlessly. By the time Caiden had completed his lap and climbed the steps to get into the ring, Drayden was up on his feet.

The music came to a close as Caiden stepped past Drayden and reached through the ropes for a microphone. He took it and stood opposite Drayden in the ring, but neither of them spoke. They stood eye-to-eye in the center of the ring, and the aura of their hatred energized the fans.

‘THIS IS AWESOME
THIS IS AWESOME’

Caiden cupped the mic and lifted it to his lips, but his voice wasn’t the first heard by the viewers. “...I’m marking out bro.” Wade Palmer, the voice of AWE couldn’t help but let out a whispered reaction to the scene playing out in front of him. He’d been doing this for a long time, but was watching the feud of the decade unfold before him. He had the best seat in the whole damn show, sitting ringside behind the commentator’s desk every week for the showcase of the immortals.

As Caiden began to talk, the entire crowd hushed to listen to every word he had to say. “I hate you.” He said it with such certainty that it was apparent the feeling may have transcended the performance. “I hate the way you talk, I hate the way that you wrestle, I hate that you’re such a bootlicker for the boss. I hate you. I hurt you, and I tried to keep you from coming back, but you couldn’t leave well enough alone.” He almost snarled it the second time he told Drayden he hated him.

“That’s fine with me, because after I beat you one last time, I’ll set the record straight. I’m better than you. I know it, everyone in this arena knows and you know what? So do you.” He paced up and down the ring as he talked, ranting now. “You had your chance to sit in your mansion in Pensacola and watch me be better than you ever were, but your pride couldn’t handle it, could it? You and your massive ego couldn’t stand this title on my shoul -”

“I hate you too.”Drayden finally spoke, cutting his opponent off and the immediate reaction from Caiden was palpable in his expression alone. His eyebrows furrowed, and it was obvious hot rage was bubbling inside the younger man. “I can’t stand you. I can’t stand that you spent your entire career in other companies, across the world, and thought if you finally came here you’d be entitled to it. And for what? For selling out bingo halls and high schools?

You can’t do this! You don’t have what it takes to carry the company, the business — you don’t got it. Why do you think I’m here? Why do you think Roddy called me in the first place!? Because you can’t do your job!” Drayden snarled the accusations into the microphone. “You’re holding a belt I never lost. If my knee hadn’t blowed ou—”

“If your knee hadn’t exploded, these people wouldn’t be here because they don’t want you anymore!” Caiden was quick to respond, with words that apparently resonated from the fans based on the roaring reaction. His opponent moved the mic toward his mouth to respond again and Caiden stepped forward getting in his face. “STOP. Stop, brotha. You emptied the clip, what more are you gonna say? That you work harder than me? While you were on the injured list for the past year, I worked twice as many matches as you did in the last five years. Didn’t miss a house show, didn’t miss a PPV. No days off, both shows.

What did you do? You got on a private jet and went to talk shows to cry about how badly you wanted to get back in the ring. You went out there and you told Good Morning America that you’re the best wrestler in the world. You’re not going to convince the fans that you’re better than me, you’re not.” Taking a step back, he ripped the title belt off and held it up in the air. He held it at arm length, in front of his opponent’s face as the camera zoomed in on Drayden’s face. Hungry. Desperate to ‘save’ the company. “This is a world championship, you’ve held it seven times. This is something people in our business work their entire lives, spill blood, sweat, and tears just for a shot. And you know what?” He tossed it to the side of the ring.

“I don’t want it. And neither do you. I know what you want,” as Caiden spoke, Drayden furrowed his brow as his opponent spoke, but it was obvious in the air. Caiden Winters was onto something. “Let’s rewind the clock to our very first match. My debut, do you remember it? I bet you do. The fans - your fans then - they were ready to watch you beat another indie darling down, huh?

Let’s go Drayden, clap. clap. clap. They said. Drayden’s gonna kill you, clap. clap, clap. They said. But what did they say, when you were laying flat on your back on the canvas after I put you down for the one, two, three. What did they say?” He leaned forward again, this time getting in Drayden’s face. “They didn’t say a damn thing.”

He pulled back as his opponent scowled, “We fought again for that belt, and you won the match - but you didn’t beat me. That much was clear when they rolled you out of the building on a stretcher - what did they say then? It wasn’t your name was it?”

It was clear the cutting words were having the intended effect, as the other man seemed to be seething with rage. Caiden looked at him, daring him to respond, and Drayden picked the mic up to do just that, “talk is cheap.” He snarled, and the next events happened very quickly. The mic dropped down to the ground, and Drayden’s elbow flew toward Caiden’s face. It hit its mark, and the fight was on.

As the two superstars threw hands at each other, the camera very briefly panned to the top of the ramp where Dana Flynna the general manager and authority figure of AWE was frantically motioning for help to save her main event. Security guard and roster members poured down the ramp to pull champion and contender apart as their brawl spilled outside of the ring.

“I’LL KILL YOU!”

“YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO!”

________________________________________________________________________________

Introducing: Joey Everett
Timestamp: Some undisclosed time in the morning → Sometime after homeroom-ish

The video paused, Joey wasn’t interested in the rest of it. He’d have to have seen it a hundred times, but he liked it all the same. Having a famous person for a parent was weird at first, but as he grew up and realized the scope of his father’s stardom, he really started to get involved in the community. Joey was an avid forum poster, though he did his best to keep his connection to the business as quiet as possible. That was mostly out of respect for his father, who maintained a low public presence, even when he was champion.

Caiden Winters wanted a private life, and it wasn’t Joey’s place to ruin that. No matter how badly he wanted to correct the YouTube comments he scrolled through, Joey kept silent. It was hard to deal with the fact that people took wrestling so seriously sometimes, but it was also exciting. In due time, Joey was hopeful he’d find his way into the family business. He wasn’t interested in being an in-ring performer, that didn’t really appeal to him. Joey didn’t really think he had it in him to work a match like his father had, but that didn’t mean his options were up.

He may not have had the drive to train and be the legacy of the best to ever do it (in Joey’s opinion, anyway)... but, writing the narrative? Creating the stories that drove people to think two men who couldn’t be closer friends backstage truly hated each other?

Joey could do that.

That was his goal. Joey wanted to be the guy with the pen, the one in control of the narrative. He’d always liked writing, but it was only in the last year or so that he’d finally gotten exposure to the writer’s room of AWE.

It had frankly changed his life. The long term storytelling was beautiful in a way nothing else was to him, seeing the storyboards, reading the notebooks the head writer worked in… It lit a fire under Joey like nothing else had. It was one thing to write a movie or a TV show with a defined beginning, middle, and an end, but the ever evolving story told by professional wrestling was one of a kind.

It was a multi-step process, and Joey had a feeling he’d never hold the final say in the game, but he just wanted a chance. He had originally assumed his father would be able to get him a job, but Caiden had outright refused. You think I came up sleeping in the backseat of my car and working high school gyms just to raise a nepo baby? Not a chance. It had slowed, but not ended his plan. Joey turned to studying, to make sure that he got into a respectable school, so he could get a screenwriting and creative writing degree, following in the same footsteps of the current head of AWE’s writing room.

Joey was sometimes jealous of other students at his high school, whose parents, often more famous and wealthy than his wealthy and famous father, would give them money for whatever they wanted. Caiden was fairly firm on the idea that Joey would work for everything he had. And Joey had. Even the Camry he drove around when he absolutely had to had been paid for by the pocket change of his peers.

One of the few things he hadn’t paid for himself was his pet chameleon, Retribution. Retribution was named after his uncle, Blake Ryder, who had wrestled under the ring name Retribution. If Joey thought about it hard enough, the word ‘retribution’ was there enough that it became confusing, but that didn’t change his intention. Retribution was named Retribution as retribution on his father for refusing to buy him a dog.

Not that Uncle Blake was much better… who bought a teenager a fucking chameleon? Joey should have been more specific about it when he’d told him he wanted a pet. Blake had said he’d get his nephew anything he wanted, and Joey had essentially regretted not being more specific ever since.

Chameleons were high maintenance, angry, and they barely did anything. At first, Joey had been annoyed he’d gotten something so… weird instead of something normal. Not even a turtle? Seriously? It took a lot of effort, time, and money to get a cage that was proper for the little dude, but after a while, Joey really started to enjoy it when Retribution did what Joey affectionately labeled ‘Chameleon Things.’

Mostly, Chameleon Things amounted to grabbing things, making funny expressions, and climbing on Joey like a tree. Joey looked up toward his hat, he saw the paw of a chameleon waiting for him on his forehead. He held his fingers to his forehead and Retribution slowly crawled from his spot on Joey’s head and onto his arm.

“Yeah, you’re right buddy. You gotta go back to your home.” Retribution’s home was a massive glass enclosure next to Joey’s desk. Joey snapped his laptop shut with his free hand and stood up with the arm holding his pet extended. He reached down into the enclosure and let Retribution climb onto one of the trees. “I have tutorings to do after school, so I won’t be back until later. You should be good, right?” He asked, checking the water dish in the habitat.

He nodded to himself and then left his bedroom with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Joey walked through the house his parents owned, and found that both of them still weren’t back. When he was younger, Joey had often gone on the road with them, but these days he found himself home alone more often than not. HIs parents' work required both of them to travel so frequently, that he didn’t feel it was an exaggeration to say he hardly saw them anymore.

Joey was a good kid, and he didn’t really need supervision, so it worked out in the end. Even if he was a bit beat up about it at times, his parents were good at making sure they were present for the events that really mattered. Were they there at every mathletes competition? No, but they were there when he made it to regionals. They were as supportive as they could be, given the situation.

In spite of the heat of Los Angeles, Joey made a point to wear his beanie on his head. If he hadn’t, his mother would have found out somehow, and she might have cried. At first, Joey had been stuck in the rebellious phase, thinking it a bit lame that his mother had taken the time to knit him a beanie that he could hardly wear given the weather where they lived, but after a while it had grown on him. The few friends he had now probably wouldn’t even recognize him if they saw him without it.

A year or so ago, Joey would have rode his skateboard to get to the school, but lately people had started assuming he sold drugs just because he rode a board around Beverly Hills High. When two separate people asked on separate days if he was carrying anything, Joey had decided that it was time to stop, even if it meant his options were getting up early to walk to the school, or suffering through Los Angeles traffic.

The journey to school was long, and Joey was thankful that every day was another day closer to never having to do it again. It wasn’t the day-to-day classwork he didn’t like, but… Being a tutor for some of the people he worked with was genuinely concerning. Weren’t they supposed to be the future? Why did so much of the future struggle with fractions? Were their teachers bad at their jobs? Was it the fault of the parents? These were all questions that Joey had asked himself once or twice since taking up the tutoring job in his sophomore year.

Unfortunately, the tutoring sessions were part of Joey’s rhythm. At first, he’d wanted to do people’s homework for them, but that was something his father would have never approved of. And so, Joey became a teacher. He even reckoned he was a pretty good one, as most of his students found results, but it didn’t make it any more fun. One could only repeat Pythagoras' theorem about fifteen times before it became repetitive.

How many times had Joey explained the theorem now? Try five hundred. A part of him wanted to give up, but another part of him remembered how expensive food for Retribution was (seriously, why did bugs cost so much?), and another part still remembered how much money his peers had. That made it easy enough. He had to give his father respect where it was due… not being spoiled led to Joey having one hell of a work ethic.

Which was another reason why he was dreading school, and then work that day. With homecoming approaching very rapidly, someone would want him to go to the dance, to go to the party, even to the game. Joey didn’t want to do any of those things, he was doing his best to stay focused on himself. If he didn’t get into the right college, it could throw everything out of equilibrium.

People who got to be ghosts in high school didn’t realize how easy they had it. Joey had long ago gotten into the habit of ‘hanging out with everyone.’ Regrettably, it was fairly easy to get along with anyone as long as you listened to what they had to say and offered the right responses — and it was so easy to give the right responses on autopilot. If anyone asked him to go to the events, Joey would say yes before he could stop himself.

Before long, Joey found his way into his homeroom class. He was late, but not late enough for anyone to complain about, and sunk into his chair at his desk. At least he missed the Morning Show.