Altered Tundra

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Returned to form

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

𝐌 𝐚 𝐫 𝐢 𝐬 𝐨 𝐥 , 𝐑 𝐲 𝐥 𝐚 𝐧 𝐝 , & 𝐒 𝐨 𝐧 𝐧 𝐲
_{Collab with @Dirty Pretty Lies @TootsiePop @Altered Tundra}

With earbuds in and his thumbs hooked on the outside of his jean pockets, Ryland drowned the hustle and bustle of his surroundings with Oh My Darling Don’t Cry by Run the Jewels. His overused drumsticks poked out of his red Jansport backpack, which held his packed lunch from his Aunt, as well as cookies that she made for his friends. As he strode with this nonchalant swagger, his shoulders leveled, down, and relaxed, his cold eyes locked with others that walked past him, like it was a competition and the first one to avert their eyes were weaker.

A loser.

So far, he was winning and all those rushing to work, or trying to get a cup-of-joe before their adventurous, strenuous, and long day, were either too caught up with themselves or found it odd that a random kid had his unmoving brown pools deeply stabbing them with icy hostility. His two best friends knew he was in the area, but this would be the first he saw them since he arrived. They were busy. Whatever that meant in their case. He just hoped they’d be happy to see him.

It wasn’t like them to NOT see his texts, so he naturally assumed they were aware that he was heading over — he’d be damned if they headed to school without him. It wasn’t like he was in a rush to go, or anything. If he were in a rush, he would’ve parkoured to Sonny’s, but in truth, he could care less about his attendance and rep. It was his last semester and he doubted any of the teachers, and other pretentious, rich kids, would invest their time and energy with the ‘last-minute’ transfer. He did, however, want to see his friends. The people he truly connected with and understood he wasn’t a complete and utter fuck up.

Sure, he has friends in LA, but they weren’t anything with substance or depth. They weren’t the Misfits. Perhaps, he was judgemental and selective, or maybe he didn’t want to waste his time with people he knew from the get-go weren’t going to tough things out for the long haul. He didn’t need many people in his life that he trusted and gave his undying loyalty to. Ryland simply needed enough so that his mind rarely thought about being a lonely, piece-of-shit. Because let’s be real, he was a piece of shit. And he was lonely.

As long as he had the Misfits, he’d be okay, and that’s all that mattered. Especially Sonny and Marisol. As long as he had them, he’d never fully come to hate himself. Hate colors the soul, and the negative energy could race wildly within him, but because they check him, love him, and really fucking get him, the poison never spreads. The poison is there, waiting, like a sickness of the mind, and heart, for everything to go to shit and all those that he loves to disappear. But, as long as he has someone it won’t. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Stopping in his tracks, after checking his wristwatch, he looked at the house in front of him and shrugged. He was here, finally.

And soon there came a series of knocks, which were loud enough to alert just about everyone in the house, which was also to say that only three occupied the Drake residence, the one who rushed to the door and met Ryland Aspen’s bored expression was probably not the person he was expecting. But, of course, had he known Sonny like he should (and especially in recent times), then for Ryland, it should come as no surprise that Sonny wasn’t who met him. A tall-ish blonde woman with the poise that put the First Lady to shame and a complexion that matched her pristine fashion sense stared the lanky young man down. It was to first gauge him, blue eyes studying him and seeing him. She tried to peel the layers with her intimidating gaze, coldly staring him down.

As dull as his expression was, Rye was usually taken aback when he saw who Sonny’s mother was. A gorgeous milf, with vixen eyes. No matter how many times this same scenario happens, where he comes knocking on the front door and she opens, he gets a full reminder of what this world has to offer. She was the type of woman that was so sexy, it was dangerous. Just imagine a lip-bite… he could. Without a doubt, she was someone that knew how to get her way and all she needed to do was give a gaze that could kill. Full of intensity and allure.

How the hell did his friend get so lucky?

At the moment she knew she had him, she gave him a smile. “And you must be Ryland.” Viola’s English accent was very present and she stepped to the side. “Sonny is upstairs. He should be finishing getting ready for school, but knowing my son…” She laughed, looking to Ryland once more. “Actually, I’ll just take you to him!” Viola had her moments of mischievous tendencies. Of course, she wasn’t near the levels of the two men in her life, but she certainly could pull one over them, such as leading Ryland with her as they both went upstairs to surprise Sonny.

Before Rye could give any sort of response, he was already being led to his friend’s room. He preferred being called Rye, but he knew Sonny’s mom was a special case and more often than not used proper etiquette, especially toward individuals she could barely remember. Which was weird, since he visits AT LEAST once a year, but then again, he was a sliver in her life and she was a busy woman, so maybe it wasn’t as weird as he thought it was, “Thanks, I guess.”

As they stopped in front of Sonny’s bedroom door, Viola heard some sort of commotion, so it was obvious he was awake. She was only slightly annoyed that he didn’t come to greet his dear friend, so she punished him by knocking on his door. Just a moment away from doing that, however and her phone went off. One quick glance and she saw it was an important business call she was waiting for. “Sorry, I have to take this. I’m sure you can get him out in time, right?” She didn’t wait to hear Ryland’s answer as she walked off, talking loudly into her phone.

With no chance for idle chat, the goddess had delivered him and then her phone went off. Without a second to waste, she sauntered away, out of sight, but not out of mind, to tend to her needs. Bringing his focus back to the door, having looked over his shoulder, to glance at her god-given gifts, Ryland reached for the knob and brought his attention to the matter at hand. The main reason he was here in the first place. His friends. With no hesitation, he flung the door open. “Dude, your dad’s one lucky son-of-a—”

At that exact moment, when the noise in Sonny’s room faded into a sharp silence, nothing could be done to roll back time to a few moments before Ryland had walked into Sonny’s room. Nothing could be done to allow the young man to unsee the sight of Sonny, half-naked, on top of an also half-naked, Marisol. Nothing could be said to possibly explain the more-than-compromising position the two were in, let alone try and explain it to their close friend.

So, what could happen? Sonny had no fucking clue, but the silence dealt more blows than anything he could say, so he would take whatever shot he had. “Oh, hey Rye. I thought you were going to wait downstairs.” Sonny immediately perked up, nervously grinning at Rye while signaling the petrified, wide-eyed Marisol to get up as soon as she could.

Surprise wasn’t an emotion Ryland took well. He hated surprise parties, he hated surprise visits, and he hated when people tried to surprise sneak up on him. Surprises were meant to be a good thing but only led to disappointment. The only reason why people did anything for a surprise was to get something out of it. It was an entirely selfish concept, which is why he hated it. This, though, was nothing like that feeling. This was worst. Far worse.

Even if the first fraction of the second held a similar feeling, where he had a complete inability to compute, the aftermath, where everything inside him shattered like glass, was nothing he felt before. It was like a collision had just happened in his chest. A violent shock that rammed into his most vulnerable wounds he thought he covered up so well.

In most cases, he would be explosive. That was his innate nature to throw a tantrum and yell, but behind his dejected stare and his emotionless expression, he redirected his thoughts. Away from what was in front of him. After grinding his teeth, he shifted his demeanor and let his lips rise into a faux smile. It wasn’t worth making a scene or overreacting. It wasn’t worth sharing how hurt he was, when they were in the middle of getting it on. It wasn’t worth confiding in them if they couldn’t share this.

It wasn’t worth it.

Casually, calmly, he ran his hand through his long, unruly waves and laughed it out, while avoiding eye contact, more out of respect for Marisol’s body than anything, “My bad, man. Your mom kind of just pulled me, you dig?” His gaze was distant, and by this point, they should both know this was something they needed to let sit. They needed to give him space right now, for their friend was a ticking time bomb. “Anyways! Don’t rush on my account.” He beamed a cheesy grin, before turning to the door, “I’ll wait. Downstairs.” He lied and left the room, not wasting any more time to hear their retort.

With Rye’s sudden departure, Sonny tried to get a word in -- both him and Marisol tried to -- but before a single word could be uttered, instead of trying to explain to Rye what he just walked into, the sound and image of his bedroom door literally being slammed in his face was all he was given; and in turn, left Sonny with the most expressionless expression he could muster.

Ryland was one of his closest friends. He wasn’t as close as Marisol was and he didn’t get to see him as often as he did Kavi and Stella, but if there was a top-five, Ryland cracked it easily. There was a sense of brotherhood there and a whole lot of trust. The history between his family, Rye’s, and Marisol's dates back to a time before any of them were even an afterthought. So, maybe seeing the other two halves of that long family history in present-day was too much of a shock?

“Shit.” That was all Sonny and Marisol could both say in unison.

After thinking in silence for about half a minute and trying to process just how quickly he skurted away. Sonny, of course, understood why. Given his change of scenery, consistency was exactly what he wanted right now. But at the same time, Sonny honestly felt Rye had overreacted. He knew it was a lot to take in all at once and Sonny tried to put himself in Ry’s shoes, but he just couldn’t.

He had enough of quiet reflecting and turned to Marisol. “I suppose that could have gone smoother,” he commented, taking a seat next to her on his bed. “I know we would have to break the news to him sooner or later, but I figured, you know, we’d at least get the chance to talk about it before …that.”

Mari, who had also been watched in horror as the events unfolded in front of her eyes, was rendered uncharacteristically speechless. She had known that telling their friends about their newly dating status was bound to bring them some snarky and disapproving comments, but this? The hurt and disappointment in Ryland’s face and the thought of everyone else reacting in the same disheartening manner made her rethink the decision she’d made on Christmas day.

It wasn’t until Sonny sat next to and addressed her that she found her voice again. “In our defense, we haven’t told anyone yet. But you know, since he didn't even give us a chance to say anything, we'll end up looking like the bad guys," she grumbled, frowning while she occupied herself with buttoning up her blouse. "This is so fucking annoying. It's too early for this shit."

Sonny found it reassuring they were on the same page. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Sonny sighed deeply as he tossed his shirt on and looked at Marisol. “So, what do you think the odds are he’s still downstairs? I don’t want to think that this was enough to get him to forget about riding with us, but Rye being Rye…” Sonny remembered his anger and how that sometimes blinded Rye from seeing to reason.

"The same odds I have of becoming America's Next Top Model," the short girl snickered, rising from her spot in the bed to stand in front of Sonny and fixing the collar of his shirt. "Son, do you think us dating is a good idea?" she asked her boyfriend. The worry in her face was evident in the way she avoided his gaze, even when she tried to not let it show.

He didn’t know what he was more annoyed at: Rye being Rye and overreacting, which in turn had negative effects on his two closest friends, or that these effects were working and forced doubt to creep into his girlfriend’s heart.

He sighed, looking at her. “Don’t you start that,” he warned her sternly. “Rye will come to terms one way or another, but I’m not going to let his overreaction get in the way of something that’s been nearly a year in the making,” he assured her, kissing her. “And for the record, you’d make an amazing Top Model. None of those starving human xylophones would stand a chance against you!”

Marisol couldn't help but laugh. There was no way she would even consider becoming one of the famished runway zombies of this day and age, but Sonny's confidence in her was still sweet. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’ll stick to the surf and turf,” she answered, grabbing her school blazer from the floor and slipping it on. “And as much as I would love to stay here and avoid the world, I think we should get going. I couldn’t give a flying fuck, but the last thing we want is our folks getting worked up because we were late on the first day back.”

As much as he wanted to disagree and just lay in bed with her, Marisol was right, but more importantly, she wasn’t the only woman in this house who would get on his ass for being late on his first day back. Lord knows just how ruthless his mother could be, especially when he deliberately tried her limited patience. If there was ever someone who struck the fear of the Devil into his eyes, it was Viola Banks.

So as he rolled his eyes, giving her one last kiss, Sonny propped himself up and stretched as he did his best to loosen the joints in his body. Satisfied, he grabbed his bag and gestured Marisol to follow him. Just as they were about to head out and as Sonny opened his door, his mother was standing in front of it. Thankfully, Marisol was fast in hiding behind it.

“Sonny, I have to go into work a little earlier,” she informed him suddenly. “I might not be home until late, so do me a favor and try and not burn the house down. Your father might be home around the same time, so I wouldn’t wait up.” She sighed, looking at him. “And one more thing: try and put on a happy face for Ryland. He looked distraught for some reason.” She gave him a cheek kiss and walked away, leaving Sonny with a wave of information.

He closed the door somewhat and stared at Marisol, both of them probably feeling like their hearts were about to explode. “Holy fucking shit…” Sonny had to catch a breath. “I haven’t felt that type of excitement since your parents almost caught us last week.”

Now that she was sure the coast was clear, Mari was in a sudden fit of giggles. "I know, right?! I almost shit my pants when I heard her!" she snickered, doubling over in laughter while trying to catch her breath. "Fuck, man, at least it was Ry the one who walked in on us. We would be hanging by our toes from the ceiling if it had been your mom."

“You’d think I might be given the son discount but that mother of mine is fair and just in her punishment.” Sonny said that with the realization just how cruel his own mother was. “And that absolutely terrifies me.”

He sat on that thought for a good, long moment until he was able to shake it off and he led Marisol downstairs. He held her hand as they descended down the stairs. It didn’t even feel weird to do it so casually. For him, it felt as natural as breathing.

When they were downstairs, Sonny was optimistic and hopeful that despite Rye’s sudden disappearance from his room, that somehow he stuck around after cooling off; that maybe he was going to let the two of them explain. But, of course, when he saw that the only thing downstairs was the interior decor and a strong feminine presence in the air, the light of his optimism drained to the point where his shoulders slouched and he sighed.

“I can’t believe it. He actually left!”

“What else did you expect?” Mari snorted with a shrug. “He’s pissed. You know he doesn’t hang around when he’s pissed.”

Sonny shrugged as well. “I don’t know, a chance to properly explain? I figured he’d give us that much.” He lamented for a moment longer before shrugging it off and he threw his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his keys from a bowl on a pedestal near the door. “Forget it, let’s just get out of here.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” the girl said before running after Sonny, grabbing his hand and rushing out of the Drake-Banks home before they could get caught again.

Rosefell High.

Me seeing new blood:

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

---

Pictures in my mind on replay
I'm gonna touch the pain away
I know how to scream my own name
Scream my name

---

After Stella had made a touchdown at Miami International, the busy airport booming with returning and departing guests and the bustle and hustle so present that Stella had to make sure she kept up with the pace and kept in mind where she was going. She was so grateful to be back in her home state of Florida. She adored her time in France and even more so the experiences she had during her weeks spent in France. She soaked up as much of the culture as she could, time spent with Lori, time spent with her great aunts, great uncles, and all of the distant relatives that made the time away from her immediate family worth it. She felt like a changed girl. It wasn’t just a trip to shop and dine at the finest restaurants but it was a journey of self-discovery.

And Stella had found that in spades.

She strutted with confidence. She had bags upon bags that were going to be shipped to her in a few days. Everything she bought from the best stores was going to be on their way to her closet and with that in mind, the brunette knew this new year was truly going to be the embodiment of a new her. But as much as she was looking forward to changes, the sight of the familiar company kept her leveled. Waiting for her at the gate, as she had nearly forgotten, was probably her best friend in the entire world and not to mention the best cousin in the world.

As Stella’s cab took her across the highway and away from the culture-filled city of Miami and she gazed out the window, seeing the skyscrapers getting tinier and tinier as she was getting further and further away from Miami, she couldn’t stop thinking about everything that transpired and especially how things with Marcel went. She was to look back on all the memories and that day spent with Marcel was one she couldn’t stop thinking back on. She knew what could have happened. They could have spent their time together in his bed. On some level, she thought that’s what would happen, but she couldn’t bring herself to let anything between them go past that magical kiss on his balcony, not when Carter was so present in her heart.

As the sight of her home came into view, whatever introspective daze she was in, she brought herself out of it if not to collect herself. The cab came to a stop and Stella paid the fee. She gave the cab driver a heartfelt smile for enduring her through her quiet musings, which he said he didn’t mind. A final farewell had Stella with her bags in hand, but despite having her luggage near her, when she spotted Chrissie about ten feet in front of her, she dropped everything she was holding and fast-walked her way into her cousin’s arms for a tight hug.

“Chrissie!” Her jovial voice carried with layers of affection, arms squeezing tightly around Chris. “Mon Amour, I’ve missed you dearly!”

“Hello, Peaches.” Chrissie’s grip around her cousin was firm and affectionate, drawing her in even closer than they already were. With a whispering voice, cherishing this warmth, she responded , “I’ve missed you too.” Having hardly any contact with anyone for most of Christmas break, Stella’s embrace was very much welcomed and cocooned her better than a butterfly-to-be. Soft, gentle, and safe. It gave her that loving feeling she desperately needed, even if she’d never admit it.

No longer having a boyfriend, whose number one love language was intimacy, it was something she knew she’d have to get used to. She’d cover her loneliness with her ambition, her attitude, and her smile. She’d carry on because that was the type of woman she was raised to be and she didn’t want to waste her energy with the likes of him. She didn’t want every waking thought to be about a guy who tried to save face and could care less about any girl he toyed with, especially her. She thought they had something special. Then again, every girl he played thought that too.

The hug ceased but a beaming smile made up for the ending of physical affection. Stella had the prettiest and most genuine smile she ever did see. The kind that reaches your heart immediately — vibrant, free, and hopeful. It reminded her of a spring flower opening as if happiness was just around the corner waiting for them.

With a serene gaze, her pale green eyes sparkling in the light of the morning sun, Chris excitedly asked, while walking to the bags her cousin had left behind, “How was Paris? I can tell it was something special. You’re glowing!” She really was. Just looking at Stella, Chris could tell that something had changed inside of her. She was renewed, rejuvenated, and ready to conquer, and honestly, that was wonderful to see. It was about damn time she was exuding confidence that reminded her of her ride-or-die, Ariana. If anyone deserved to take the school by storm, it was her Peaches. That’s for sure.

After grabbing one of Stella’s suitcases, Chris added, “Oh, BT dubs. I made breakfast! Your favorite. I won’t be able to enjoy it with you since Ariana will be here soon-ish, but I just wanted to make sure you had a proper welcome home meal before you headed out.”

“Oh!” Stella’s voice came with a shock but in all the positive ways. “That’s awesome! How long until I have to give you up to that radiant soul?” She asked, a small traces of a teasing giggle following her words.

“Five minutes. Now, please, do tell me about Paris!” If Chris had things her way, the conversation would strictly be focused on Stella’s vacation and not turned around on her. Nothing interesting happened to her. She was literally a couch potato. Leading the way, she started walking to the front door, awaiting her cousin’s response.

Once they settled on the couch, Stella felt the jet lag set in but that wasn’t going to stop her from telling the grand tale of her Paris adventure. “Oh, where to start!” That was difficult for her. She had so many crazy stories she could share but there was only so much time to compress it all in. So she’d tell Chrissie about the one that practically made her entire vacation. “Oh I know. Okay, so you remember Marcel, right? I believe I told you about him from my last trip to Paris. Tall, dreamy, and full of scrumptious goodness from head to toe.” She felt herself getting distracted already. “Anyway, Lori practically kidnapped me from the villa and I had no idea where I was heading. She wouldn’t spill any of it. She then dropped me off at this hotel and led me up to the penthouse floor and gave me a card key.” Even thinking about that made her somewhat annoyed. “So, when she left me alone for a few hours, I went inside this gorgeous room that puts anything here to shame, I was just so confused. I didn’t know if I was alone or what!”

“Lori kidnapped you?!” Chris was focused on the minor detail that most likely was irrelevant to the story, but there, her mind was, thinking about how that was even possible. “Did she smuggle you, or something? Did you put up a fight? If I were there, I would’ve helped!”

Stella scratched her head, laughing nervously. “Well, she didn’t kidnap me per-se. We went on a drive into the city but she kept the destination a surprise,” Stella would further clarify.

“Oh, okay. Then I can forgive her.” Chris nodded in agreement to herself, shifting her body slightly to face Stella more, as she continued to tell the story, “Okay, so. Marcel. What does HE have to do with this?” She wanted the juice and it seemed like Stel was holding out on her.

“Oh, what doesn’t he have to do with this.” Stella sank into the couch cushion, feeling like she wanted to take her time with telling this story. Of course, she knew she couldn’t, so she continued. “It was his hotel room Lori abandoned me at.”

With the mention of it being his hotel room, Chris was leaning in, nice, close, and up against her cousin, batting her eyes for more, “And… did you guys fuck?”

Stella’s cheeks flushed bright red and she gasped, embarrassed. “What!? No. Oh God no, we didn’t do anything of the sort!” Stella profusely denied with every bit of energy she could. “I mean, I thought it was gonna head down that road, but after we kissed, I knew it wouldn’t happen,” she admitted, her voice dropping to a somewhat low volume.

“Why the fuck not?!” Chris was utterly confused. “You had your chance to make sweet, sweet love—” Her repressed self was projecting. “—and you didn’t?! Let me guess, you were embarrassed because you forgot to shave?” She gestured down to Stel’s flower. “Some men prefer a cushion!”

“Chrissie!” Stella was mortified and she waved her hands in front of Chrissie repeatedly. “No, it didn’t have to do with anything below my face, okay!?” She took a moment to pause and take a breath. Her entire body felt hot from what her cousin just said. “Listen, Marcel is great and anyone he chooses to be with in that way will be lucky, but it’s not going to be me — it can’t be.”

Before she was any more dramatic than she already was, the sudden realization of ‘why’ washed over her. She slouched over the armrest of the chair and grumbled, “It’s because of Carter, isn’t it?” With his name, came mild spite. She didn’t hate the dude, but she didn’t necessarily like him either. They clashed and loved to get under each other’s skin, but still…. Carter? Even if she wanted to ask: why him? She knew exactly why. Her cousin was a hopeless romantic and he piqued her interest, taught her a thing or two, and made her feel validated. Truthfully, Chris should be excited that her cousin was able to restrain herself for her crush but… she wasn’t.

She responded initially with a slow nod. Hearing his name did a lot to give her life but in this particular context, Carter being the one person preventing her from finally sealing the deal with the one guy in her life who had been more consistent than the beaming smile on Stella’s face every time she saw a cute dog in someone’s purse. Carter had opened her eyes to a new world. He was the more soulful, empowering Aladdin to her Jasmine.

“I know Marcel will always be there. I don’t know if it’s fair to him, though. I know he’ll wait as long as he needs to, but I couldn’t do anything with Marcel until I fully explored what’s between me and Carter.” Even when she said his name to Chrissie, she smiled and felt butterflies in her stomach.

The drama queen would be lying if she said she was happy for Stella. To be frank, this was a complete buzzkill and it wasn’t because of Carter, or the fact that her cousin was blushing and excited for love. She knew where all this annoying disgust was rooting from. It was because Stella left for Paris, right after Jason tore Chris’ heart out, stomped on it, and put it back in, as if he never touched it before. She was envious that Stel’s vacation was remarkable and that she had a guy waiting for her both in Paris and in Florida.

This was her time to be there for Peaches and really make her feel like she did the right thing and yet, it wasn’t in her nature to hold back anything. And so she sat up and crossed her arms, staring at her cousin in judgment, “I still don’t get why that matters. You have no idea how Carter feels about you and it isn’t like you belong to anyone right now. Why couldn’t you just have fun? You were in Paris to have: fun.” She clicked her tongue in annoyance. “And yes, I know what you’re thinking, it’s the principle of the matter. But honestly? Fuck principles. Marcel may not wait for you forever. He might say it, but I can promise you he won’t. And if you want things to happen with Carter, you gotta stop waiting for him to sweep you off your feet.”

Stella didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know what to say or think because Chris’ attitude right now was throwing her off worse than if she got hit with a rock while horseback riding. Chris wasn’t usually this negative with anything Stella confessed to her. She had her opinions, sure. That was the side of her cousin Stella adored. She loved how outspoken she was and how she always had an interesting perspective on basically any topic that came up, but this? This wasn’t that. Chris wasn’t being her usual self, which led Stella to believe there was something else. In any other circumstance, Stella might look the other way and shrug it away, but Chris was the one who expressed a desperate need to hear about her Paris adventures and now she’s being nasty.

Melissa Monroe’s daughter might’ve been a pushover, but that was the 2018 Stella Lambert. New year, new Estelle. “Chrissie, I love you but you’re wrong about Marcel.” Her voice was soft but growing in a firm confidence. “He’s not like Jason. When Marcel says something, he means it. He’s a man of his word.”

Taken aback by the retort, Chris tilted her head and drilled her pale green eyes into Stella’s. She took a moment to process the words and shook her head in despiteful agreement, “You’re probably right.” Swallowing her anger, she gave a half-hearted smile, but it was obvious the mention of Jason cut deep, “Touché, Stella. Touché.” Before they could further this conversation that took an unfortunate turn, Ariana’s horn honked. Standing up, she looked at her cousin and tried to end things on a better note, “You surprised me.” She paused, surveying her cousin’s expression, trying to get a better read on this new Stella.

After a steady moment, she suggested, “You should talk like that more.” With that, Chrissie McCoy gave a quick peck and hug, before grabbing her bag and heading out the door. It was best if she let it go and forget this sudden ache in her chest.

The way that conversation ended, Stella felt a tense feeling in her stomach. What began as something between her and Chrissie of the two girls enjoying each other’s company for however much time remained, turned into a rising tide that was slowly encroaching on them, threatening to drown them before either of them had a chance to fight it. But to her surprise, even after Stella made that comment about Jason, Chrissie had backed down at what Stella clearly saw as impulsive anger nearly taking control.

Even as Stella was left to her devices and eating her breakfast, which she appreciated was still warm for her but the excitement passed by her. Her mind was solely fixated on how awkward things were left between her and Chrissie. In addition to that, she was running late and with very little time to shower, Stella rushed herself, only doing the very minimal thing of washing her hair and body and reading herself for school.

When she was back downstairs, she was a mess and barely presentable. Her hair was a mess and thrown into a sloppy ponytail. She barely had any makeup on and she hated it. In addition to that, she had nothing but a heart-patterned dress that came to mid-thigh, black leather ankle boots, and her shoulder bag for her school stuff and other necessities.

By the time she was finally out the door, an additional ten minutes were wasted for her last-minute checks. She needed to ensure that she had everything she needed and that she wasn’t forgetting anything. Halfway down the brick walkway and she remembered she forgot her keys. “Get it together, Stella!” She tried to motivate herself as she went back inside, swiped her keys from the kitchen countertop, and left once more.

Stella swiftly got into her 2015 BMW Cabrio and sped the hell out of the Crown Heights neighborhood, enjoying what little time she had to herself, thinking about all of what could happen this semester and about Carter. dEspite how Chrissie reacted to Carter, she was feeling good about this year and what a semester spent with him could bring.

Rosefell High.

Ricky had the most 180 shifts in his mood that he had in a while. It came, of course, as Alex mentioned the act of taking his picture and Jordan Ross. He had considered letting him take his picture because obviously Ricky would love to be featured in the yearbook. More exposure meant the more people around school could stop talking about him behind his back. They could even worship him in some way, but at the mention of Jordan Ross and Ricky's entire mood shifted into an unpleasant frown and forced him to bite his tongue, which in turn made him grit his teeth, murmuring obscenities under his muffled breath.

Alex was harmless enough. He was a bit too handsy with that camera of his and honestly, Ricky just thought of him as Henderson's personal photographer who was quite skilled with the photos he took. Admittedly, Ricky hasn't seen every single picture but there was a certain style he could recognize being Alex's own. But when he made the comment about adding Ricky's photo to Jordan, he nearly lost it. It was only with the grace of God and maybe even a miracle on Ricky's part that had him take the road less traveled.

"Sure. You can take my photo but only if you tell me something," Ricky smiled, leaning in close to Alex, grabbing his shirt. "How does it feel knowing that, without that special camera of yours, you're just as useless as Henderson is a capable principal?"

Not new, just back?

Your name looks familiar. I definitely remember seeing you around.

Welcome back regardless!

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

_Outfit

Kavi’s black 2019 BMW 230i pulled up into a free parking space near King’s Academy and he sat in the car for a few minutes, just staring at the school. A wide range of thoughts passed through his mind but one he couldn’t stop entertaining was the overall aspect of change. Change in the sense that it was a new year and a new semester. Change in the sense that the isolation of winter break was over and he was back to reality. Change in the sense that he had a new car. Change in the sense that he was no longer the womanizing player he once was and had a girlfriend. Change in the sense…

“Yeah, there’s that too,” Kavi mused to himself.

In addition to how eventful the day had already been (despite it being too early for any of it), Kavi couldn’t find himself to step out of his car, not yet at least. With so much on his mind already and the impending doom of school, to say that he was worried would also to say that the sky was just a little blue this morning. He shouldn’t feel this way, right? The tight feeling in his gut tearing him apart and making him quite apprehensive of stepping out? He had everything going for him this semester. The right girl, the best car, and all of the clean slates to spare, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about that.

Suddenly, he felt a hard punch against his right bicep and he turned to Nikki, who sat beside him. “That hurt, you know,” he said, staring at her with an annoyed expression.

“Maybe if you listen to when I’m calling you, I wouldn’t have to punch you.” She sighed, grabbing the strap of her bag tightly as she prepared to get out.

“Wait, we should talk about--”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Kav,” she said with a defeated tone, shrugging as she looked at him. “Our parents are adults. What they do or don’t do isn’t on us.”

“So you’re not the least bit curious or worried?” He asked.

When she stopped with the passenger door halfway open, Kavi knew he had her full and undivided attention. “Listen, bro, I know it’s hard for us to fathom that our parents aren’t happy anymore but why should you or I let that interfere with our happiness? I’ve made peace with the fact that shit happens and you just have to press on.”

He wasn’t sure if she was being the mature one here or if her lack of -- well, anything -- was a sign that she was taking it the worst. Nikki wasn’t always the most expressive and God only knows how much of a mouth she has, but even for her, Kavi had to admit her showing very little reaction to what their parents told them last night and this morning was alarming. Even a little reaction about maybe how much it sucked or even the fear of what their living situation might be was better than what he saw.

“You know, you don’t have to pretend in front of me. It’s not like your shining rep at school is going to be in jeopardy if you be honest with me.” He tried being the comforting older brother for once.

At the moment those words left his lips, on some level, Kavi was expecting to get hit again. Knowing Nikki’s temper as he did, there was no way in hell she was going to limit herself to his arm. It was going to be Halloween all over again (and in his new car, no less).

So, as he braced himself for the inevitable impact of her tightened fist, Kavi stared her dead-straight in the eyes. To his surprise, however, nothing came. The only thing that was exchanged between the two was an awkward staring contest that ended when she had reacted angrily, prompting him to raise his hand only slightly. This reaction was only verbal, thus the next thing Kavi heard was the sound of her leaving his car in a fit of rage, slamming the car door so hard he thought she had separated it from the car.

And so, he sat there, again thinking about changes in his life and how it all happened in a couple of weeks. Change in the sense that he had no control of the good or bad in his life and that he didn’t know what to do.

Until he did.

Kavi decided to just put these thoughts to rest for now. He also decided it did him no good to fret on what happened at home and how his kid sister was taking it. Instead, he would just get his bag, get out of the car, and try and fake happy for everyone’s sake. That was honestly the only thing he knew he was capable of doing.

Halfway across the parking lot, Kavi pulled out his phone and texted Ariel the following:

Hey sorry I couldn’t pick you up this morning, Nik needed a ride. See you at school. 💪😎

He smiled as he sent it and went further into the campus. He wasn’t sure exactly what this day had in store for him, but if he had to pick, he’d rather it be dull and quiet. He didn’t know how he would respond otherwise.

Sentaku

There was an unspeakable tension in the air as the Lady Hokage was speaking to the genin present. She spoke of how the chunin exams would be vastly different than any of their past missions would be and how those around them -- some Ren Shimo knew from the academy days -- wouldn’t all be allies; that the only allies he had were those in his own squad. Upon hearing this, Ren chuckled, curving his lips into a smirk.

As his mind began to wander as soon as Lady Hokage finished speaking, Ren thought about his team, about his sensei, and about how much trouble he had caused them since graduating from the academy and actually becoming a team. To say that their time together has been surprising was putting it mildly. Ren always felt like he carried the team, being the one who had the most leadership qualities out of everyone. Of course, that was not counting Shion-Sensei. She was de facto leader but it wasn’t like Karu was going to step it up, not when he always tried to get sensei’s time of day.

Of the many times the chance presented itself, Ren had to assume the role because obviously the only other female on the team spent her time trying to keep everyone in line -- even Ren. But when it came down to it, Ren was always the one to take control of a situation. Organized or not, he had a certain order to his madness and he never turned away from a fight. And that was the reason why he was so excited right now.

His blood usually ran cold and disobedient, but something about the challenge and reward of possibly becoming chunin sent thrills down his spine. As shivering and frigid as they were, Ren felt the will of fire burn bright as he scanned the room and just tried to gather who would be the weakling among them.

His blue eyes, the overseers for his blades, Ren spotted some familiar faces. Former classmates of his and they looked strong. He gripped his kodachiswords by the hilt, the itch that needed to be scratched crawling up his skin like a rattlesnake slowly ascending. “Someone, but who?” He asked himself, breathing the names of those he saw, craving a spar with someone.

Weew

Welcome to the guild!