CaliforniaState

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

boop

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

Angie told me to do this

In the mood for... ; ) REOPENED

Sure why not

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

Meats back on the menu boys.

Final Fantasy - Crystal Chronicles RP

Interesting

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

<sub>Kiss me.
We're on fire, babe.

Love me.
Take me to outer space.</sub>

High school was already starting to become a blur. The first day was enough to sum up how the rest of the year would go. Except… King’s Academy wasn’t, by any means, a normal school. What do you get when you throw a bunch of horny, unadulterated kids with money that burned a whole in their pockets? That’s right: you get the epitome of high school angst in the form of a senior party. It’s what made high school careers, everything riding or dying on one night. This, of course, wasn’t an issue for the likes of Santiago Fernandez. This, this party right here was made for Kings and Queens. Project X: eat your heart out.

Unfortunately for Andrés, the allure of a rager of that magnitude was wasted on him. Now, don’t get it twisted: Andrés was always a social monarch in any situation. It’s just that, at this particular moment in time, something else had captivated his interest. Yes, he had dated a myriad of women in his past - some even models and upcoming talent. Yet there was nothing that could compare to the weird connection he had accumulated for the queen of the damned, AKA Martha Radley. And that was why, instead of pacing around for his next victim, the leopard stayed inside with all his spots, resigning himself to watching la partida and mindlessly refreshing his social media news feed.

As the minutes turned into hours, the loss of his presence at the party could be felt. His friends and even friends of friends had been DMing him with the cliché: “Where you at bro?” or “I see you, dog. Just wear a rubber. You don’t want to coach little league before hitting the big leagues.” Of course, he hadn’t gone missing, nor was he ‘getting it in’: he had just been waiting for this game of cat and mouse through text to escalate.

Growing restless, Andrés turned the game off. And instead of texting Martha as a heads up, he jumped into his car and tore through the streets before arriving to her house. He was presentable as always, but he traded in his Adidas uniform for a cream-colored hoodie, some dark washed jeans, and all white Yeezys. His fingers fired away as a text bubble appeared on his phone in blue:

“hey you up?”

Unbeknownst to her visitor outside, Martha was sitting down in her bed, staring at her phone screen and chuckling at the text exchange she was having with her best friend Oliver. Her dark-hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, a few loose strands adorning her face, and she wore a paint-stained apron over a black silk nightgown and bathrobe. Apparently, darling Oli’s hunger for drama had been stronger than his repulsion for big, rowdy parties like the ones hosted by Santiago. So instead of following Mar’s example and staying home for the night, he was live-texting her the happenings of the party, as if he was reporting an important sporting event. The young woman was right in the middle of reading all about how tiny Marisol Castillo of all people had broken a soccer player’s nose when she got a text asking if she was still awake.

The brightest of smiles stretched across her lips when she saw that the message came from Andrés. After their date on the first day of school, they’d hung out quite a bit, and had been texting each other all week. She knew he was a very important piece of the King’s social ladder, and figured he would be much too busy making his round around the party with his buddies to even give someone like her any thoughts tonight. It was good to know she had been mistaken. Without wasting any time, Mar typed up and sent a quick response his way.

“Yup. Watching a movie at home. U?”

Andrés eyes were glued to his screen as his message said deliver. He locked his phone and then unlocked it, at least 20 times, each time checking to see if she had read his message. Honestly, know one would have read the message that fast unless there was prior rapport. Andrés paced back and forth like a man possessed. The poor all-star contemplated his decisions and was about to leave when his phone chimed minutes later.

“Mierda! Mierda!! Porqué pensé que esta era una buena idea?!”

A wave of relief rushed across his face like that of water when he was subbed out on the field. Andrés smiled in haste of reading the message. His fingers acted on their own and typed out his intentions, but Andrés quickly held the backspace so he could think of the perfect retort. The idea of watching a movie together hadn’t been considered antiquated just yet and would be the perfect excuse to get closer.

‘Uhhh would it be weird if I said I was outside your house?’ Andrés texted back as he backed up off the porch and out toward the sidewalk. He saw what assumed to be her window from the reflection of the TV, waiting for her to peer out in shock and horror, mostly horror though.

At his response, Martha’s eyes widened, the shock in her face instant. She had to read the message more than once to truly take in the implications of what he was saying. That he was outside her house?! Nah, it couldn’t be. There was no way that Andrés De La Fuente - her freaking crush since the darn 7th grade - was actually parked outside her home right this minute. It couldn’t be true. For all she knew, he was texting her on a dare by some guys at the party, or one of his buddies had taken his cel and started playing some sick prank on her. Because there was no way in Hell that the likes of him would be pulling stunts like that for the likes of her.

Right?

Deciding to see it for herself, Martha completely ditched the idea of merely peeking through her window. That wouldn’t be enough for her skeptical mind. Instead, Mar took a deep breath and dashed down the stairs, walking straight to the front door and swinging it wide open. Her heart nearly burst out of her chest when she saw both the white McLaren on the sidewalk and her crush leaning against it looking like a blessing to this Earth sent by God almighty himself.

Andrés eyes went from the window right to the door as his heart nearly stopped right there. What if it was her parents? He would be dead before 21. But once he saw that it was Martha, his heart stopped for very different reasons. It kind of felt like getting a sliding kick to the ankle except without the theatrics. His eyes measured every ounce of woman that stood in that doorway, starting from the bottom up. The goth queen hadn’t disappointed. She was wearing a simple black night robe and gown; an apron stained with paint censoring what was underneath. Her lowly whisper brought his attention back to life and also hinted to their deviance.

“Andrés?” Martha asked in a low voice after a few stunned seconds of silence, wide brown eyes staring up at him in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

‘Quick, Andrés: think! Think!’ he thought as an imaginary light bulb flashed above his head. “I was going to go to the party, but I figured this was a better stop. Besides, I didn’t hear anything about you being there, so I wanted to know why,” he asked, impressed by his own quick thinking. He locked his car behind him, making way for the porch once more. There were only a few feet that separated the two now, and Andrés could smell the intoxicating aroma of her perfume mixed with the scent of paint. “Can I come in?” he requested politely, patiently waiting to see Martha’s next reaction.

The girl hesitated for a second, as if pretending to think about it. But, of course, her face broke out in a bright smile. “Um, sure!” she replied, moving out of the way so Andrés could walk in. After closing the door behind them and making sure it was as locked as it could be (because she’d be damned if she was caught in any sort of way), the young woman led him up the stairs. “My mom’s actually out on some date for the night, and she told me there was a chance she wouldn’t be coming back. So it’s just me in here.” As soon as she said it, Mar immediately regretted how it sounded. She mentally facepalmed herself: not even five minutes in and she was already making a fool of herself. This did nothing to ease the growing nervousness of finding herself home alone with her crush.

Perfect goal. Andrés had managed to set the pace for the rest of the night.

The Colombian youth didn’t think much of it as he was too enamored to notice. The sound of the door locking raised an eyebrow from him, only to linger while she spoke. “Oh, your parents are divorced? Sorry to hear that. Must have been tough on you. Do you have siblings? I’m sure you’ve heard of my blood,” he said, eferencing his flagrant cousin Ximena. The boy eyed the interior of the house as they walked, hoping to learn more about the Radley’s.

Martha was taken aback by the rapid-fire amount of questions Andrés was shooting her way, but she maintained an unbothered exterior. It was awesome that he wanted to get to know her like that. “That’s just the way things go sometimes. They divorced when I was seven, so I've had plenty of time to get over the ugly stunt he pulled on my mother, my sister and I,” she told him, a clear hint of bitterness in her voice. “As for siblings, I have an older sister who’s away in college, and two younger brothers from my father's side who live with him and his new wife.”

“Shame he left such a beautiful daughter behind and the rest of your family.” the young man mused, causing Martha’s smile to widen and her cheeks to redden for a few seconds. Andrés did pick up on her mention she had other siblings. It was important to grow up with family. He just wondered if they were in the house with them.

They had reached the top of the stairs now, and after a quick trip down yet another hall and turning left, the two arrived at the gypsy wonderland that was Martha’s room. The young woman motioned for him to come in and closed the door behind them again. “Please, take a seat,” Mar said softly, waving at the available places to sit around the room. “Excuse the mess, by the way. I spend most of my time holed up in here here, so it's bound to look a little bit lived-in,” she said with a laugh, taking a seat in the corner of her bed.

Andrés walked inside; transported to a completely new land. While he was used to his minimalistic, monochromatic room, with everything reminiscent of boy and his love for soccer, this… This was something completely new. They tapestry and flowers made it feel as though he was about to get his fortune told rather than feel girly even in the slightest. It wasn’t bad of course, just new. Much to his delight, the girl had a way of surprising him.

The young man closed the door as she wished and sat down near the foot of her bed. “How do you find anything in here? It’s almost like...alive.”

This earned him a bright laugh from Martha, a sound like wind chimes on a cozy afternoon. “That’s exactly what my mother asks me everyday,” she admitted with a smile.

“Where’s this masterpiece you’re working on?” Andrés asked her, almost forgetting he was talking about her canvas project and not what was sitting right in front of him. He couldn’t get over the apron she had on and all the fresh paint that still coated it.

Martha frowned at his question. How did he know she was working on a painting before he got there? The dark-haired girl followed his eyes down to her body, and it was only then that she realized in horror just exactly what she was wearing. Her cheeks flushed immediately not at the sight of her paint-stained apron, but to the short and clearly visible robe underneath it and the suggestive way it was falling down one of her shoulders. “Oh my God!” she muttered, quickly fixing up her robe and pulling down her gown. “I am so sorry! I was in such a hurry to see if you were really out there that I didn’t even think to change into something more appropriate.”

It would be a lie to say that her sultry body and the way her nightgown slipped down her soft shoulders didn’t stir something up deep inside. It took most of his willpower to focus on her and not her shapely body. “I...uh..I didn’t mean to make you flustered! I was just curious on what you were working on. It’s really okay, I think it looks good on you. Hold on-” Andrés said as he noticed there was some paint on the bottom of her chin. He made his way across the foreign gypsy lands before arriving next to her on her enormous bed. With his dominant hand he raised his hand to her face, light gliding his thumb across the smudge that embellished her otherwise perfect skin. “That’s better, you had some paint on your chin. Passionate about your work, huh?”

Just like before, Andres’ finger on her skin felt like fire, and the closeness of his gentle touch to her lips sent a shiver down her spine. The realization that it was just the two of them. But before her thoughts could go down a rabbit hole of possibilities, Martha decided to put a stop to them and answer the young man’s questions about her art.

“You could say that,” Mar answered with a smile, standing up from the bed and gently taking hold of his hand. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

With her hand on his, she helped him up from the bed and guided him up to a smaller room adjacent to her bedroom, where her cozy art studio was located. Paint bottles, brushes, finished and unfinished canvases and many more art-related paraphernalia was scattered around the room. However, the main focus was found on the large canvas propped up on the wooden stand, where her in-progress vampire and human lover painting rested.

His heart was heavy in his fingers at the moment, the way his blood pumped into his thumb. If there were any a moment to seize the opportunity this was it. Unfortunately it was too late, she had gotten up and guided him to another alcove of her room. This was more how he envisioned it: paint supplies littered everywhere. Everything she had been working on had been encapsulated in one painting in front of him.

Had he been anyone else, they probably would have ran for the door, but the vampire in the painting seemed to peak his interest. The human in the painting had some glaring similarities to Martha. Maybe she saw herself in her work? But if that was her, then who was the male?

Before he could stop himself, Andrés heard himself asking: “Is this you? If so: who’s the vampire supposed to be?”

‘OhGodohGodohGodohGod…’

Once again, Martha silently cursed herself. Why had she even considered showing him the painting was a good idea?! She should have known that obviously he was going to ask questions that she would have to answer. Of course, telling him that his eyes were currently seeing himself as a vampire prince interpretation of her creative mind was out of the question. So she knew she needed to come up with something convincing, and fast.

“That’s- uh- Prince Lestat, from- uh- Queen of the Damned,” Martha lied on the spot, hoping that she was convincing enough to stop her visitor from asking any more questions. “And the girl is his human lover, from the movie,” she added for good measure.

There was something strange going on with the painting and Martha’s unnatural reaction to his question. She stumbled over her words like a child pandering for a good lie, but he decided to cut her some slack. “Oh...well maybe we can watch that sometime.”

“Sure! But, uh, the canvas is still wet and reeeeeally vulnerable, though, so how about we- uh- go back to the other room? I wouldn’t want an accident to happen or something.”

“Yeah. I’m sure we can find something to do.” Andrés once again followed the queen of darkness back into her lair, but before they could sit the young man had other plans. “Here. Since you’re not painting anymore, why don’t we take this off you?” he asked her. Of course, his intentions did indeed focused on the smock.

Andrés moved in with grace as he made his way behind Martha. His fingers sprang to meet the knot tying the straps of the apron to her back. The knot came undone in seconds, appearing as though he had experience disarming straps. With the knot out of the way he focused on the collar next. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, moving her lush locks of hair to the side, exposing her neck. It almost felt as though he was the vampire in the painting, with the way her neck was calling out to him. Instead, he gripped the collar and brought it up and over her head as it hit the floor. “Much better, don’t you think?”

Martha’s reply was nonexistent. While he’d removed the apron from her body, her body had tingled with anticipation of the unknown. And when he’d moved away her hair to expose her neck, she was certain that her heavy breathing had stopped for a few seconds. The lack of space between them was making her heart beat wildly in her chest, but for all the right reasons.

_{Please have this song playing in the background from this point onward for the ultimate reading experience! Thank you!}

She turned around to face him and realized then just how close they really were to each other. Under the dim yellow light of her bedroom, Andres was looking more handsome than ever: the stunning Latino features she’d always liked so much becoming more appealing and apparent. Her dark eyes were now locked on his, any words she had thought of saying catching up in her throat. Like the first time they had met, there was an undeniable electricity in the air: an unknown magnetic force pulling them closer as if the fates themselves had decided they were meant to be together. Before she knew it, Martha’s face began to slowly inch itself forward, getting closer and closer to that of her guest.

All of his advances were welcomed without retaliation. The tension that had been building over weeks had finally culminated into these few pristine moments. If this was a teen movie there would be a low resonant sound of a love song. His heart in his throat and his fingers going numb with every touch made it hard for Andrés to focus on anything else. That was, until she turned around to lock eyes with him. Empty space was practically nil as there body’s touched. All her strong features came into view, there was nothing but perfection in her delicate face.

Andrés couldn’t take it anymore, this was the real moment. His hands rose to her face, a finger brushing her hair behind her ear as their eyes did the samba. While she leaned forward, he brought his mouth towards hers. Time froze as their lips touched, their warm embrace locking them in a moment that would mark the beginning of their budding relationship. Andrés held her face into his and then slowly departed. His eyes would open as wells as hers, a smudge of lipstick stuck on his lips.

“I...think I love you...” he said, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

At that exact moment, he world stopped spinning. After years of silent admiration from afar, cherishing those smiles across the hall and longing to just be seen, Martha Radley’s wildest wishes were coming true right before her very eyes.

“I always have…” Mar found herself admitting to him, her soft voice barely more than a whisper as her slender arms held him close and tight.

Those words were more powerful than any incantation Martha could have studied, and it invoked something within him. A slick smile crossed his face before he pulled her into his lips once more. Their kiss turned into a passionate exchange of lip over lip, and heavy breathing ensued. In one swift swoop, Andrés lifted Martha into the air as their bodies touched and began a night to be remembered.

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

So much to read, where to start.

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

Quédate aquí, te conviene
Vamo' a dejar que esto pase
Y mientras tú te entretiene'
Yo me vuelvo fanático de lo que haces

---

First days were never his strong suit, but everything had to be done once. Luckily for Andrés, his cousin was on flagrant display. The more Andrés watched the less interested he became. Yeah he was a jock, but he wasn’t your stereotypical jock. Who could be when your father was the kingpin of the cocaine empire. Regardless, Andrés did find solace in his one passion, soccer. As a sort of defense mechanism, Andrés constantly found himself daydreaming about his future rather than the present. This wasn’t unlike any other normal teenager, but it proved effective. There he was, Friday night lights burning down on him. There was 5 minutes left in extra time and he was staring down a penalty kick to secure the Premier League Championship. The familiar whistle of the referee announced the recommencement of the game. Firing on all cylinders, Andrés stutter stepped to feign his shot misleading the goalie. The shot wide open, Andrés fired away.

Before his eyes could fixate on the balls path, the crowd vanished and the familiar terrain of King’s Academy faded in. The roar wasn’t from the crowd, rather it was the snarling giant known as Johnny Baxter. While his mind raced to gather the pieces of what happened a flicker of anger ignited in Andrés as well. No one liked a bully and no one disrespected his family. Family was always first even if they did make lackluster decisions. There was no fear in Andrés nor many options for recourse outside of physical altercation. Before his fist could ball completely it was let go as quickly as it formed. A fight on the first day would just bring attention he didn’t need. It wouldn’t reflect well on his sports career and it would just garner more attention from his father. Something most kids would want, but not in his particular case. Andrés sighed and walked up to Johnny as Elijah was making his way to rescue his friend from sticking his head further up his own ass.

Brushing shoulders intentionally, Andrés caught his ear in passing muttering some thinly veiled threats before straightening his clothes. With a beaming smile the golden boy helped his cousin to his feet. “No te preocupes la próxima vez me aseguraré de que nadie te lastime” before he could continue he noticed two things. One, the class president Victoire Bailey was on her way. Which only meant further drama between her and his dearest cousin. And two, his favorite soccer ball had gone missing. The second revelation beat out the first, “Disculpe, pero me reuniré con usted más tarde. Lo siento!” He shouted whilst trying to remember where his ball went, he must have actually kicked it in real life as he did in his daydream. Hopefully he hadn’t taken anyone’s head off. Following what would be the normal trajectory of his ball, Andrés vanished from the sight of the group and found himself in the quad.

Like a runaway car his soccer ball was losing momentum as it rolled towards a table not to far away. The quad was barren except for one girl who he recognized, the dark but alluring Martha Radley. As fate would have it, the ball would come to a complete stop at the foot of her table. He didn’t know much about her since they were from separate social groups, but that never stopped him before. Like the social butterfly he is, Andrés broke into a light jog while making his way over to the table. Once there, Andrés kicked his ball up back into his arms while flashing a fully toothed smile at Martha. The sun almost gleamed off the white of his teeth, “Thanks for finding my ball, Martha was is?” That’s when he caught the tarot cards on the table, something the Spanish people loved to fetishize. “Mind if I sit? You can read me my fortune before class. Audaces fortuna iuvat right?” Andrés said as he took a seat next to her setting his ball down without clear permission. “Oh, I’m Andrés by the way, nice to formally meet you” he said with a hand stretched out as his eyes focused on hers.

---

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

Yeek yeek woop woop! why you all in my ear?!
Talking a whole bunch of shit
That I ain't trying to hear!
Get back motherfucker! You don't know me like that!
•• ━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━ ━━ ••●•• ━━ ━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ••

Life was abruptly ripped away from her, blindsided like a school bus turning her paraplegic, Ximena felt the firm grip of the boy behind her tear into her skin. The grip was anything but the right kind of domination she was into. Her body was jerked towards him, her eyes catching his perturbed face. It seemed she really managed to get underneath his skin, his skin tinged red with anger and a shaking she could feel coarse through her body. Anger of her own boiled and stewed deep inside her, her perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed in retaliation. If her years of self-defense classes taught her anything it was she didn’t fear bullies like Johnny here. The amount of tension he had place on her arm would give her the perfect opportunity to use his own energy against him, should she go for the chop chop chop judo flip and embarrass him in front of everyone? No, that was too good for this wannabe film director, not everyone with a camera and no film degree was as talented as Quentin Tarantino. That just left the only other option that she knew and rehearsed all too well, the victim. Her tear jerking performances on screen would come to life here and be no different.

Her angered face flashed the boy a devilish smile to warn him what was to come, it was already too late for him he signed his death sentence. Her face immediately turned into one of pain, she started crying in pain as she fell to her knees. “Ow ow ow, stop you’re hurting me!” she said in an exasperated breathe, “Andres help m…” she trailed off as tears as natural as day began to slide down the side of her face. Her clothes had been ruffled and half torn off from the fall and the grip that remained on her shoulder. The boy dropped her like a bad habit and turned in his self-triumph to wherever it was he thought he could go when school was starting shortly. You see Johnny wasn’t the only one with a camera that was recording, with a school as high end as this one there would be camera littered around every entrance of the school, all XiXi would have to do is appeal the nature of the vice principal or principal for that matter and show them the evidence. Before her act could go any further a radiant female with dark hair and piercing blue eyes showed up in the fray. A new challenger had appeared, maybe this school wasn’t going to be as boring as her last.

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

@Erklings25
Oh you messed up, you'll rue the day