Hey Im Jordan

CANCELLED.

_{A Brian Helmsley story
Mentions: A text to Bailee Helmsley @melissahart and Becca Helmsley @smarty0114, a text to Trevor Wells @Silent Observer, and a text to Riley Wells @Lovely Complex
Location: Brian’s private jet —> the Helmsley three’s meeting room}

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How many sixteen year olds received private jets when they turned seventeen? Not many, but the Helmsley three had each been gifted one, and Brian Helmsley was sitting in his now, silently mulling over his plan. He had roughly… twelve percent of a plan. Really, he preferred not to get involved; Brian was well aware of his place in the social realm of the school, but he didn’t like to publicly play the game. Whoever wrote the Weekend Warrior, though, had crossed the line. Henry was supposed to act as a buffer, but that had apparently failed.

So now, Brian would have to get involved. He looked down at the piece of paper he’d been writing notes on. He had been in touch with Damian before Damian had explained he was shutting his phone off so his mother didn’t bother him, and Brian thought he had most of the story. He’d also printed off a copy of the Weekend Warrior, underlining the parts that mattered most to him.

He had now, perhaps fifteen percent of a plan.

Leaning back in the comfortable chair he sat in, Brian tapped his pen to his lips. All this, for her. He could have stayed in Sweden, where he was safe and free from this nonsense. He could live anywhere on the planet, and do anything he wanted; but before he could do any of that, the crown prince of the Helmsley family had work to do. Brian didn’t care about the bits involving Hailey and her crew; though he’d saved the video of the Owen and Marshall confrontation.

Owen, what are you doing? The last that Brian had checked, Owen and Marshall were best friends. Owen, for all intents and purposes, seemed to have lost his fucking mind. Brian would have to talk to him when he got a chance, but first he had things to handle.

Apparently, the Weekend Warrior had led to Damian getting kicked off of the team. Without the captain at its helm, Brian saw no point in maintaining his star position on the team. No one else would be able to lead them to victory, and besides; Brian stood with his captain. He had texted the coach, and had not received a reply. The text had been simple, and straightforward, expressing Brian’s resignation from the group. He assumed he was not receiving a reply because the coach was angry.

It would be dealt with in time.

After that, Brian had sent out two more text messages. One, went to his group chat with Trevor and Damian:

To: My Golden Lovers
I heard about Damian getting kicked off. I’ve already texted the coach; I’ll be quitting too.

And one went to Riley Wells, whose number he had to pull off the school’s website:

To: Riley Wells
I’ll be joining you as one of your cohosts! Have some plans for Tuesday’s episode. Will discuss later tonight! Call me by 10:30 tonight, thanks!
B

The third Helmsley needed a platform to help propel himself into the student eye, and besides: this was part of his plan. He’d take control for one show, and then Riley could go back to his regularly scheduled programming. Brian Helmsley would be center stage alongside his sisters soon, it was unfortunately necessary in order for him to right the wrong.

Brian scribbled out the note on his paper indicating that he had fifteen percent out of a plan, and replaced it with a sixty-seven. He had some ideas floating around now, and things were starting to formulate in his head. “Anastasia? Do me a favor, and text Mother and Father. See if the Destiny is available tomorrow evening. And tell them if it isn’t, to make it available.” Brian said to his assistant, referring to the superyacht owned by his family.

“Oh? May I ask what for?” The Assistant replied, in a voice with a light Irish accent, and Brian nodded.

“It’s all part of the plan, Anastasia. Don’t worry. The Weekend Warrior, and — from what Damian has told me — Hailey, have stepped out of line in the absence of myself and my sisters. The Weekend Warrior especially has attacked someone I care about quite a bit.”

“Have they now? And what are you gonna do about it?”

Brian looked down at the wrist of his dress shirt, absently fiddling with the cufflink. “I’m going to make them regret it.”

“Devilish. You sound just like your father! I approve. We’ll be touching down soon.”

Brian nodded and looked down at the paper, scratching out the sixty-seven, and replacing it with an eighty-eight percent. There was only one step left.

Once the plane touched down, and Brian was back in the comfort of his own home, he went to the conference room he and his twins had secured for their own purposes, years ago. Once a place where business of great importance that influenced the world as a whole was conducted, it now served as a place for the Helmsley three to meet and conduct business of far greater importance that led to the way the social life of their peers functioned.

Brian pulled out his phone and texted his sisters.

To: Twin 1 Twin 2
Meeting.

He picked up his pen, and reached down, scribbling out the eighty-eight. He replaced it with a one hundred percent, and circled it.

AWE: American Wrestling Entertainment

@sly13That's fine :)

AWE: American Wrestling Entertainment

@sly13we are :) I'm not sure we'll be able to fit you into the first show, but we'll try

AWE: American Wrestling Entertainment

@Ninja@ThePlumbum@Sloth@CaptainSully@Mister Thirteen@GingerBoi123@Mister Thirteen@WXer

Hey everyone! The match card can be found here in the 0th post. Everybody has a spot, and you're all welcome to work on your matches whenever, again: we recommend working collaboratively with your partner over Google Docs or something similar. It's super easy! I'll be starting the IC officially today, with a backstage post. Whenever your matches are finished, feel free to post them!

Feel free to join our discord channel here: discord.gg/r3rHWz if you haven't already! It's the easiest way to get in contact with us. If anyone has any problems, feel free to PM me!

AWE: American Wrestling Entertainment

• Segment 1: Caiden Winters comes out for his match with Roddy. Roddy comes out second, but says the match isn't happening. Security guards come and apprehend Caiden, dragging him out.
• Match 1: Johnny Sniper vs Trystan Hughes. Trystan wins.
• Match 2: Alexander vs El Asenino. El Asenino wins.
• Match 3: Oscar vs Savaka (IC title match). Oscar goes over
• Match 4: Sexton vs Thunderbird (Thunderbird NPC, Sexton wins and demasks him)
• Match 5: Akira vs Max Mayhem. Max Mayhem wins.
• Match 6: Barbie vs Morgana vs Sydney (Women's Title Match). Barbie wins.
• Segment 2: Roddy comes out to gloat about how he screwed Caiden and is getting rid of him for good. Dana comes out, explains that Roddy signed a bonding contract and the match is happening. She brings out Caiden.
• Match 6: Caiden Winters vs Roddy Quinn (No Holds Barred). Caiden wins.
• Match 7: Gethin vs Clayton (World Title Tournament Finals). Gethin wins.

CANCELLED.

The Candyland headquarters, so to speak, was in one of the four mega mansions belonging to the Lyon family. It was on the second floor, fourth door to the left, of the Westernmost mansion. It was a huge room, far bigger than it had any right to be. Attached to it, was a huge bathroom (the Eastern wall) that included no less than six full sized bathtubs (bubbly baths were an integral part of sleepovers, in the Candy group), and a walk in closet (the Western wall) that spanned two stories (it went downstairs into what was a repurposed bedroom, which also housed a second, more modest bathroom). Three of the walls of the room were painted a hot, almost bubblegum pink, with soft cotton candy blue lines that went across the midpoint of the wall. The carpet was so plushy that when you stood on it barefoot (and you would be barefoot, shoes weren’t allowed), it sprung up between your toes, with a stark white color.

In the center of the room was a giant, rotating bed shaped like a heart. The Eastern wall was lined with vanity tables, for makeovers. The Western wall was similarly lined with vintage, pink beauty salon chairs, equipped with built in hair dryers, and feet massagers. The Southern wall housed the door, but the doorway itself was surrounded from the floor up by baskets containing a variety of candies, ranging from Jolly Ranchers to the ever elusive Hershey’s Hugs. The sweets in the room were not limited to these, however, as the Southern wall also had several candy dispensers mounted on it, some of which contained Jelly Belly’s, gumdrops, gumballs, M&M’s, Skittles, and Reese’s Pieces (all carefully labeled, of course). In each corner of the Southern wall, there were ice cream dispensers, one which dispensed soft serve vanilla, and the other soft serve chocolate ice cream. Both dispensers had ample variety of topping dispensers nearby, including caramel and chocolate sauce fountains.

Despite the beauty of the amenities in the Candyland HQ, they were not the main attraction. The main attraction was on the Northernmost wall: the Shipping Wall. The Shipping Wall was a glass wall; in the center of it was a door leading to the balcony. When the Candies assembled, the glass wall darkened, and its secondary function came into play. The glass wall doubled as a giant LED, motion, touch, voice, and bluetooth controlled screen, upon which Ophelia and her legion of cupids played their game.

Candyland wasn’t as vicious as Hailey was. They weren’t as brutal as she was, and they weren’t as… evil. For all intents and purposes, the Shipping Wall, and the game that came with it, were good. Ophelia and her friends used the wall to play matchmaker, setting up their peers in ways that they thought would work well. Currently, there were few possible ships, and even fewer canon ships on the wall. This, of course, was no good. The only ship that was marked as canon was dead in the center, ‘Q&A,’ with the most recent yearbook photos of Quincy Hart and A Double, surrounded by a heart. A heart dictated a relationship as ‘canonical.’ The pairing were officially and publicly together. Pink lines between two faces indicated it seemed likely, a yellow line indicated potential, a black line indicated ‘never happening’, and finally, a blue line indicated the pair needed a little Candyland magic and a push before they could progress to pink or a heart!

Two faces were deemed out of play by Ophelia, and thrown to the bottom left corner. These were Trixie Kingsley and Owen Lyon.

They remained in their heart, with no explanation from Ophelia.

One of the newest Candies, however, did not care about these things. Kit wanted to sleep, and she planned to sleep on the bed, which she’d nearly ran to, throwing herself face down onto it. Kit was now taking what she had promised Ophelia would be a ‘cat nap,’ while Ophelia and the other girls got situated.

Everytime Cassie waltzed into the Candyland HQ, she was reminded of just how rich Ophelia was. The luxuries in the room never failed to blow her away, no matter how many times she saw them. Of course, she masked this surprise every time. She couldn’t let the others see how shocked she was by what seemed perfectly normal to all of them.

As the girls entered, Cassie made a beeline for the Shipping Wall, turning around to face the others. ”So, Brynn, do we need to put you and Seannie up on the board, or has that ship sunk?” Cassie asked, smirking as she pulled up a picture of Brynn from last year’s yearbook, along with an empty square with a simple ‘S’ in it, to represent Sean. It was a pain that they didn’t have any pictures of him yet, but she was sure that wouldn’t last long.

Brynn trailed behind the others, not exactly looking forward to this shindig. The conversation she had earlier with Sean did not go as planned in the slightest, and it made arriving at the Candyland HQ a little less sweet than usual. No matter what she had said, he didn’t seem bothered by her promiscuous qualities, so unfortunately, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Her fellow Candies would not be too pleased with her, especiallyOphelia, since she was the one who told Brynn to drop him, and quick.. Sitting down in one of the chairs near the Shipping Wall, her face paled at Cassie’s remarks. “Um… I don’t know if that’s exactly necessary.”

Ophelia was sitting in one of the various silken bean bags in the room, staring at the Shipping Wall as she stuffed Cheez-Its into her mouth, but when Brynn's words hit her ears, Ophelia leaned her head up until it was almost backwards and she could peer at Brynn. “What are you talking about?” She asked, frowning. “You guys totally belong on the wall. I only said that stuff at the tryouts to cut the sitch before it got nastier. It was supposed to be a happy day and you guys were being wicked catty. I'm trying to figure out if you should be in a heart or not, right now.”

Brynn’s eyes widened, making her almost resemble a bug or a deer in headlights. “Oh no no no… we’re not… I’m not…” She struggled to form words as embarrassment overcame her. She and Sean were not confirmed. No way, no day. “Were just having fun, nothing more. You know how I am.” Brynn tried to convince both Ophelia and herself that this was the case.

Ophelia popped a Cheez- It into her mouth, with a shrug of her shoulders. “I know how you were. Shit changes, Brynn. Times are changing, you're changing. You found a man. Embrace it, don't fight it, or you're just gonna hurt yourself. And I don't want that, I love you.”

“He’s not my man, but fine — put us on the wall, if you so desire.” Brynn started, walking over to the wall of food and grabbing some Sour Patch Kids. “I never get hurt, so don’t worry about me.”

Marshall knew that he was late, and the girls would expect that of him. The candy boy packed his schedule on the weekdays so tightly that it was a miracle he made it to any social gatherings at all. But, of course, this was a Candyland meeting, and those were an absolute must for Marsh to attend. He loved his girls, and he loved love, so that meant that the Candies came first, always. Even when he had the worst school day ever, and drama club, and voice lessons after drama club, and he was exhausted, and in a bad mood. Perhaps the mood could be alleviated by being around his bestie, Ophelia, she always knew the right things to say to cheer him up.

In the overly dramatic fashion that was only appropriate for Marshall Radley, the door to Candyland swung wide open, interrupting any hope of conversation that might have been taking place. Marsh looked… frazzled, for lack of any better word. The dark-haired boy didn’t take the time to account for who was present, assuming it was the same crowd. Only Candies were allowed in Candyland, after all. Instead, he beelined right for the candy dishes. He didn’t give a fuck about his diet, who did he have to look good for anyway? None of it mattered. Bitterly, he palmed out a handful of gumdrops. He loved gumdrops, they were a comfort food, and Ophie knew that about him.

Marsh had a lot to say, and dammit, he was finally going to say it. All of it, right here, right now. These were his best friends, and they needed to know that he was coming unravelled at the seams, in the event that they might have to run some kind of emergency damage control as a result of it. He kept the handful of gummy treats in his hand, rather than eating them before trying to speak (because that would be gross), and he began his rant.

“Everything sucks! Literally everything, Ophelia. I don’t know how much longer I can keep smiling and pretending everything is cool. I’m an actor, but it’s really hard to hide real life feels. My stupid mirror in my locker says ‘smile’ on it, and I felt like it mocked me so hard today that I wanted to smash it. That’s not me! This isn’t me! Everything is busted, and I can’t fix it. I just keep making things worse, I think.” Marshall was making his way towards Ophelia. He only took a breath from his monologue long enough to kiss Ophie on both sides of her cheeks, like they usually did when they saw each other after being apart for a period of time. And then he went right back into it.

“It’s all because of Owen and Trixie. He cheated and he ruined everything, and I still can’t believe that he would do something like that to her. It’s awful. And then, we had that stupid party. We shouldn’t have gone, I shouldn’t have gone. We started shit and triggered Owen just by being there, and we know how his temper can get. And I was even more of an idiot, getting all chihuahua because of the things he said to you — which I would do again in a HEARTBEAT, you know that. But, seriously? How fucking dumb am I? Now my best guy fri— err, my ex-best guy friend wants to kill me. I saw it in his eyes, he literally wants to murder me, Ophelia. I feel like I can’t walk anywhere alone, I’m scared as fuck… and also, really sad. Because he was my best friend…” Marshall’s lower lip quirked like he might just cry at that, but there was still more gas in the tank. Keep going, get it all out, Marshall, you haven’t even gotten to the worst part.

“Worse yet, at that stupid party, I royally fucked things up with Jamie. Seriously, I am quite sure that he hates me because he thinks that I am secretly sleeping with someone.” Ophelia’s eyes raised curiously at that, and Marshall immediately cut that down. “Which I’m not, you would be the first one to know if I was seeing any other dick than my own these days. I’m not. That’s beside the point, because he thinks I am, because I came out of the kissing closet with another guy, the who doesn’t really matter, because I certainly wasn’t kissing him. I was crying in there, because my best friend tried to kill me in front of the whole school, practically, and that’s just like… a lot to take in? Anyway, then there’s the Weekend Warrior, who made me look like some pussy twinkboy victim, which, none of this was about me being gay. So, that’s just ridiculous. Gossipy sensationalist bitch, I swear if I ever figure out who it is, she’s gonna feel the full rage of my unchecked homo fury... whatever that’s gonna look like. Oh! And then there’s Damian. He showed up at drama club all peacocking like he was gonna take over. Which, I was already in a bad mood, so I couldn’t handle that in proper. Thank god Shauna shut him down, but then. BUT THEN. He asks me to be his talent show partner? That got my mind thinking, hmmmm, Owen hates me. Damian and Owen are close friends. Damian is trying to get closer to me, which can only mean one thing: The muscle squad is making plans to gang bang me in the locker room or something — and I’m not talking the fun consensual kind that you see on Pay Per View either — I’m talking about an actual, legitimate gay bashing bonanza—”

Truly Bliss’ eyes widened from the chocolate ice cream dispenser. Her goal was to make a giant sundae, but she got super distracted with Marshall’s rant, and her ice cream started overflowing. “Uh…” Her brother? Gang banging? Trevor? Gang banging? Owen? Gang banging? What was Marshall on? Was he high? Did someone need to bring him back down to Earth? Her brother was too busy trying to get in Owen’s sister’s pants! And like, he was super straight. Sure, he had bromances going on but that didn’t mean he wanted to fuck his bros. Though, if Trevor was a hot redhead with boobs, that would totally be a done deal. A little frazzled with the assumptions, True turned back to her sundae and hurriedly cleaned her mess.

“—Did I mention that Jamie hates me too? You know, that’s like, really shitty. Because all I wanted for my birthday on Monday was to finally be able to put my tongue in his mouth. His stupid… soft-looking... mean mouth.” The monologue ended with a pathetic, whiny moan, as Marshall let himself collapse backwards onto the heart-shaped bed. Now he was good and thoroughly exhausted, but he felt at least mildly better. It wasn’t long before Marshall realized that he wasn’t alone on the bed, a tiny blonde girl was situated next to him, curled up like she had been sleeping.

“Oh hiii, sweetie. Who are you?” Marsh asked before finally popping a much-needed gumdrop into his mouth, his face was literally only inches from hers, but he didn’t mind. She was accepted into Candyland, so she must be good people.

Okay. Marshall raised a lot of good points, and he certainly had a lot to say. Ophelia listened to it quietly, and she ultimately had to agree: this was all because of Owen and Trixie. But that was because of Hailey.

A little known fact about Ophelia Brycen (Marshall, and Cassie knew) was that she was a bit of a Star Wars nut. This led to her making a lot of mental analogies and comparisons between her real life and the Star Wars universe. For example, Ophelia felt like the Sith were onto something with the Rule of Two.

The Rule of Two says simply that there must always be two parties of power; if there is only one party, then that party will be left unchecked and out of control.

The blame for Trixie and Owen's situation, Ophelia decided, rested with the Helmsley three. Their being around acted as a buffer for Hailey, keeping her from doing too much that was out of line for herself; they kept her in check. The Rule of Two.

They had been gone for AGES now, and this had led to a power shift. Hailey had more, and did more, and faced no consequences. Honestly? It was getting scary. Ophelia had agreed, almost six months ago, to break Trixie and Owen up, out of fear for her own life. If she hadn't Hailey might have ripped her heart out.

Family or not, Ophelia was more than upset with the Helmsley three for their extended absence. It was beginning to affect everything.

She took a deep breath and smiled at Marshall, “I'm sure that's not the case! Maybe he just wants to partner with you because you're the best, darling.”

Meanwhile, on the bed, Kit opened her mouth to respond to Marshall, but found herself interrupted.

Cassie pursed her lips, listening as Marshall spilled his guts to the room, and then flopped on the bed. Cassie nodded her head in agreement with Ophelia. “I doubt Damian and his meatheads would ever do something of the sort. Here, ask his sister! Damian’s Little Sister! Help alleviate our friend’s stress,” Cassie called out, gesturing to Marshall. She then turned around, facing the wall again, and connected Brynn’s face to Sean’s box with a thin blue line. Perfect.

True didn’t mean to come out as frank as she did, but the whole Damian spiel was laughable, and she wasn’t necessarily attached to the drama boy to really sugar coat her words, “Why would my brother want to fuck you?” True took a spoon full of chocolate and placed it in her mouth before continuing, swinging her spoon around as she talked, “One, you got a penis, and sorry man, that’s an automatic lose for you. Two, you don’t got red hair. Three, you’re attached to Hailey and he hates Hailey. Four. You’re a wee bit dramatic, and he got his own dramatic shit — two dramatic people would never end well. Five. I can see you totally invading his personal space, which would kill him. You’re probably the type of lover that wants to feel the love. All the time. Even when it doesn’t lead to sex. And six. If you ain’t Joy, trust me, you are NOT on his mind right now.” And another spoonful of ice cream.

It was then that Kit finally managed to get her piece in. Having been assured by Ophelia that this was a safe place, she was comfortable saying how she really felt. “I'm Kit. I'm here because I told Ophelia I love Selena and she wants to help me. Also, I haven't slept in almost 40 hours, so I'm trying to take a nap…” Kit explained, rubbing at her eyes and staring at the nre person.

“I think you misunderstood me, gingersnap. I said it wouldn't be the fun kind of gang bang, no love there, really. Just a whole lot of pain, and domination. Just, nevermind that I said anything…” Why was there not one, but two newbies in the ship room? Had Marshall known this, he might not have… you know, spilled his deepest, darkest, innermost feelings for all to see. But… he did, and in front of Damian's little sister, no less. This day honestly couldn't get any worse, maybe he should just full suicide it and pay Owen a visit, offer himself as a sacrifice. When the other new girl spoke up, Marshall's eyes widened, and it pulled him from his darker thoughts. Marsh propped his head up on his elbow and rolled on his side to face her. “Selena?! ...oh, honey. There's ninety nine reasons why that isn't a good idea. You're adorable, but she's as het as they come. Spare yourself that heartache, it's not fun, trust me.”

Cassie was wrapped up in her own world, playing Cupid at the Shipping Wall. Lips pursed in thought, she found the location of Jamie and Marshall’s photos, connected by a yellow line. She changed the line to a blue one, took a step back and crossed her arms. So much blue, so little time. If they wanted these ships here to work out, there was going to have to be some serious Candyvention. Candy intervention, that is. Cassie turned around to face her friends. “Girls and gay best friend, I don’t mean to interrupt, but this wall has way too much blue for it to be any good. I mean, I’ve just added Brynn and Sean, blue until Brynn can admit she’s caught feelings. And if Jamie really hates you, Marshall, then we’ll have to fix that too, which means more blue!” Cassie explained, spinning around to face the wall again and drawing a blue circle around Selena’s portrait. “And speaking of Selena, might as well paint her ass blue, cause if she wants to get laid, she’s gonna need all the help we can give her. Kit, if you could turn Selena, it would be wonderful. Girl could use a good time,” Cassie said, shaking her head and waltzing over to the candy dispenser, popping out a Warhead and placing it in her mouth, barely even wincing at the sour zing of the candy. “My point is, we are not doing well in the shipping department. The seas are stormy, and so far, we’re shitty lighthouses.”

“Have you guys ever thought about… asking for advice? From the first Candies? Isn’t Ophelia related to the OG Queen? And my mom is kind of one of Belle’s main lieutenants. And Kit’s mom is kind of Belle’s princess, like Selena is for Hailey, but strictly Candy. If you want to get something done, you gotta’ go hard.” True would, however, keep her crush a secret. She could handle that matter on her own. After placing her bowl down, True pranced to the wall beside Cassie, “You should add my brother and Joy Darling. His endeavors are taking a lot longer than usual. Put him beside Trev and Sav, because it just makes sense!”

Ophelia turned her attention over to Cassie and True, before shrugging her shoulders, and responding. “Well, I don’t like asking them for advice, really. I’ve gotten plenty already, and I should be able to handle everything nowadays… Plus, I talk to Belle every day. A meeting with the old guard might be cool — if we actually take the time to have some successes on our hands. We just look lazy right now,” Ophelia said, with a big shrug of her shoulders.

Kit, on the other hand, was having an existential crisis. She laid on her stomach, her eyes wide open and bloodshot, a direct result of the rather intense tiredness she was feeling. “I hope you’re wrong, because if you aren’t, then all of this is for naught, Mr. Gay Best Friend. All of it. I changed my entire life so I could be more appealing to her, did you know that? I don’t really like dressing like this. I don’t like cheerleading. I like playing soccer, and video games. And pizza. Lots of pizza.” Kit explained, turning her head to face Marshall again. “I don’t know if I can accept that answer, without even trying.”

“That’s what I love about you, Kit! You try until you know for sure.” True bull rushed to the bed and threw herself on top of her friend. “Never give up, is my motto.”

Brynn sighed, having been zoned out for most of the conversation from staring at the blue line connecting her and Sean. She didn’t want it to be there, but she didn’t want to make too much of a fuss. Returning from her daze, she tuned into Ophie’s thoughts about asking Belle for assistance. “I agree, I mean when was the last time that we successfully changed a blue line to a heart on here?”

“It’s been a long time, really… A Double and Q got together of their own volition. I mean, I dunno. There’s only one heart on the whole screen!” She fumed, folding her arms over her chest. “We suck at being Cupid. I think it was easier for Belle because she matchmade her friends, rather than going with her friends to matchmake others. It’s not as easy as they made it seem.” She protested, glumly looking over her shoulders at Cassie and Brynn. “Valentine’s Day is soon… ish. Let’s change some lines for that.”

“Are we going to do the Candy Grams like we did last year? That definitely was a smashing success.” Brynn asked, stuffing her face with more Sour Patch Kids. “Weren’t there three successful couples that emerged from that?”

“Yeah, we’re definitely gonna do that, don’t worry. But we should run more… active interference. This is all just speculation and talking. We’re not really involved! Let’s see… I vote we get involved with Jamie and Marshall first off. Gumdrop, what do you think?” She turned her head again, this time focusing her attentions on Marshall. “That one will be uber easy, I think. Jamie’s probably super easy. Although, we’ll have to keep Hailey from feeding him unidentifiable objects…” She mused, tapping her chin.

Kit, now squished underneath her best friend, held up a thumb. She could watch how they worked out Marshall and Jamie, and go from there! Maybe she could even get some sweet tips. She wasn’t going to give up on Selena, not yet. It was way too early for that! Besides, she didn’t know anyone else that went to the school that was worth crushing on.

“You shouldn't have to change who you are to get someone to like you, sweetie, being yourself is the best thing that you can be. Trying to convert a straight is bold, and bold is good, but you should just… be careful.” Marshall gave his genuine advice to the baby candy-to-be. This wasn't going to work out, he knew that, because there was no such thing as “turning” a straight. It would be one thing if Selena was bi-curious, but the girl was closer to asexual than she was to being bi.

At Ophelia's voice, Marshall turned to face his bestie. This was the first time that he openly had admitted his interest in the sandy-haired journalist to his friends, and his cheeks felt hot at the thought of becoming the next targeted ship of his friend group. This is what he wanted, though, he was admitting that he needed help. “Well… I don't think he's easy. And I don't really want easy, I'm kinda over the whole playing around phase. I… yes. Yes, please help me.”

Cassie grinned. Finally, a mission. “Perfect! First we fix this Jamie situation, and then we can get Selena laid, because let’s be honest guys, she’s way too stressed these days,” Cassie said, her mood having done a total turnaround as she looked up at the board.

“Of course we’ll help you, Marshall. You’re our top priority. But as soon as we can get Sel off my case… the better.” Brynn stated, shuddering slightly at the thought of Selena’s bitchiness towards her earlier today. If things did work out with Sean — which obviously, they weren’t going to — she’d have to deal with Selena for the rest of eternity. How very.

“I can handle Sel. It’s not that big of a deal, I assure you. I’ll talk to her about it.” Ophelia promised, before looking over at the bed, where Truly Bliss was being truly unblissful, and had jumped on her very own friend. Ophelia snapped her fingers at Marshall and True alike, “Gumdrop, True, off of the bed. Let Kit take a nap. We’re all gonna go downstairs and get soda. Which shouldn’t be a problem… I finally told Belle I want at least four of those soda machines. The ones with like, infinity combinations?” Ophelia shrugged her shoulders.

From underneath True, a muffled Kit spoke out in jumbled tones, “Does anyone got any weed or pizza? Both would be best.”

Ophelia blinked a couple of times, but looked around at the girls. She had neither of those things…

Kit was craving the right stuff. Though, True had never tried weed before. If her mom caught the smell on her, it would the end of all days. Slipping off the bed, True ran her fingers through her hair and eyed the door, “I could go get those things? Or leave with Kit and we could go do stuff… I need to go home soon anyways and she should probably be on a bed where her parents can find her.” So much time was being wasted! Who knew what he was up to now.

“Just leave me here. The Doc knows where I am, Truly. It’ll be okay,” Kit muttered, snuggling a pillow and closing her eyes tightly. True would find her way home.

“Okay, awesome, cool. Well I’m outtie then! I need to plan Damian’s funeral.” True shuffled toward the door, making sure no one was going to stop her. Slowly but surely she will escape.

Cassie looked up as True made her way to the door, grinning. ”Bye Damian’s Little Sister! Tell your brother we say hi!”

AWE: American Wrestling Entertainment

@Fabricant451@Silent Observer@smarty0114

You guys are all accepted (duh).

CANCELLED.

_{Featuring: Damian O’Connor
Location: The basement of the O’Connor Home
Interacting with: An asshole named Snake Plissken}

---

---

Damian O’Connor’s no good, terrible, very bad day had been on nothing but an upswing since his meeting with Joy in the library. Was he still upset about getting kicked off the team? Fuck yeah, but he had a distracting, and in a lot of ways, having a distraction was the best way to get over something! Plus, he was gonna get laid, and dammit that was always a good thing.

Damian was now at home, alone. His mom and dad were out doing something or other, True was… well, Damian didn’t know where True was. But that was okay, he’d outgrown babysitting her ages ago. Damian was all alone, and it was awesome. Well, not entirely alone. His Assistant was there.

Damian was downstairs in the gym, lifting weights to get his pump on and make sure that his arms looked awesome, and that he looked awesome. It had to be perfect, to ensure that Joy was as attracted to him as possible. Damian had been down this road quite a few times, and he knew what he had to do. Sitting down on the machine, with a decent amount of wait selected.

“That’s lightweight, baby.” The charming accent of Damian’s assistant, Snake Plissken. Damian nodded his agreement as he put his hands on the bar, and got ready to bust them out. Damian situated himself, and spoke to Snake before he pushed the bar forward.

“Everybody wants to be real jacked, dude!” Damian shook himself, waiting for the drop to come. As the beat built up, closer and closer, Damian continued. “But don’t nobody wanna lift these heavy ass weights! I do it though.” The drop hit, and Damian set to work, pushing the weights forward, and then letting them come back. Over and over.

Normally, he’d do more weight, since he’d be trying to bulk up and hit records and keep his competitive, friendly rivalry with Trevor going, but Damian was just looking to get the blood flowing, and the muscles swelling. He did a few sets on the important spots (chest, biceps, and triceps), and he was satisfied. The song came to a close, and Damian hopped off of the machine with an enthusiastic, “Woo! Snake, let me see myself.” Damian ordered, and in front of him, the wall opened up to reveal a full size mirror, which Damian stared into, turning to the side to look at his arms.

“Look at how FUCKING vascular I am. Look at that definition. That muscle tone. Jesus christ, Snake, I’m a goddamn animal.” Damian flexed, watching as his muscles tightened and expanded. “Twelve inch PYTHONS for arms, dude. I might not get to eat any goddamn carbs, but this is worth it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your arms look great.” The Assistant replied in a sarcastic tone, and Damian shook his head, flexing one last time.

“I’m just saying, if I wanted to? I could fuck everyone else’s girlfriends. I don’t want to. But I could.” Damian said, nodding to himself in the mirror. “I got good genes, baby. Goddamn. What a fucking animal. I got a date tonight, Snake. Let’s get crackin’.”

“A date, or a date?”

“The latter, dude. Come on. Start the shower.” Damian toweled the sweat off of himself, and stripped his clothes off, before he stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pound down on him. Nothing in the world felt better than a hot shower after you’d gotten your pump on. Arnie had been right, way back in the day. It was better than sex in almost every way. “You gotta know me better than that, dude, I don’t do real dates. The boyfriend life is not the life for me, and that’s for damn sure.” Damian explained as he scrubbed the sweat and grime of the day away with the brush, lathering himself in Old Spice flavored body wash, while Snake’s incessant rambling carried on.

“Well, who is it? Brynn? Becca? It’s not Selena is it. Nah, she’s too good for you.”

Ouch.

“Ophelia? Too girly. Miriam? Too religious. I got it: Quincy. No, none of those? Let me look…”

“Hey, going through my DMs is cheating!” Damian protested, but it was too late. The Assistant was poking around in his phone, and it was only a matter of seconds before it dawned on Snake.

“Joy? Joy Darling? Mate, that’s dangerous. Better get ready to jump out of the window and change states if her dad finds out.” Snake warned, but Damian shrugged his shoulders as he toweled off.

“Whatever, man. She’s hot, and like the sweetest person. She made me happy, even though the whole thing happened… So, yeah. I wanna sleep with her.” Damian said, and in his head, it sounded right, but Snake’s next words hit home.

“Sure it’s just a hook up and not an actual date?”

Damian froze after pulling on his shirt, almost ready to head out the door, before he yelled his response, “Yes I’m sure!” He barked, before slamming the door for emphasis.

From the speaker of his phone in his pocket, Snake chimed in. “You know I’m still here, right?”

“It’s the principle of the thing!”

CANCELLED.

_{Featuring: Owen Lyon
Location: The 365 Combat Club
Mentions: Marshall, Jamie, and Trixie in spirit @Silent Observer, @smarty0114, @Lovely Complex and a surprise at the end}

---

---

“...the best thing you could have done for her.”

It is not easy to describe the emotions that were flowing through Owen Lyon at the moment that Jamie Callaghan left the gym. None of the emotions, though, were good. Raw, unbridled anger and hatred flowed through him. He should have hit the little bastard harder, should have kicked him while he was down. Should have stomped his face into the cement.

“Cheating on Trix…”

Jamie was sticking his nose somewhere it didn’t belong, and interfering in something that didn’t include him. Owen should have beat him senseless. He didn’t know what had happened, nobody did. Cheating on Trixie? Were they crazy? Owen had loved her with everything he had and then some — he still did. She was ripped away from him; he hadn’t been given a chance. And Jamie Callaghan thought he was going to fix it? Jamie thought he’d be the reason Owen had a chance to say his side of the story.

Fuck that. Fuck him. If Owen saw him again, he’d fuck him up himself. Didn’t matter if Marshall liked him; Marshall didn’t like Owen anymore. Owen was now widely considered to hate the gays, because of one thing. Five years during which Owen had been Marshall’s best friend, didn’t matter. It’d gone up in flames.

The truth was? Marshall had asked for it too. He’d tested him, tested Owen when he’d already been made volatile.

“How dare you say that…”

Owen was his father’s son, and when confronted by Hailey, Ophelia, and the rest of them, Owen had reacted the same way Troy would have. Troy might even have been proud; Owen was ready to take on the whole crew, he’d looked at it as just a bigger piece of cake to chew hole through. Then that new asshole had stepped up, another person who had no place, interfering in something that didn’t involve them.

“You need to stop.”

That kid was dead. He was dead as soon as Owen got his hands on him, it didn’t matter that he was a Sterling, it didn’t matter if the Sterlings were close to his family. None of it mattered. Jamie, Marshall, the new kid. He’d break them all. Backing down had been the mistake. The party had been his chance to knock them all out of the way and take Trixie back.

“Kitty!”

The stunning silence of the gym was broken suddenly as Owen screamed, at the top of his lungs, staring at the ceiling. He stomped toward the door, as if he was going to walk out of it and chase after Jamie to deal with the problem now, but instead he put his head against the grey, cement wall. Owen put his left fist against the wall and pushed, pushing with his head. Control? Where was his control? He’d lost it.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

Owen felt the burn of angry tears begin to flood down his face. He pulled his fist back, cocked it, and drove it into the cement wall. Then he did it again. And again. On the fourth hit, blood was left on the wall. Owen lifted his head up and looked down at his left hand, the one that had been punching the wall. Inherently, he knew the knuckles were probably broken.

Why did Trixie talk to him? Why did she hold the words of others so highly? Why did Marshall do the same? This was Ophelia’s fault — it had to be. She’d learned from the best on how to manipulate and turn people to her view. Why did she do it? They were supposed to be family, weren’t they?

So many why’s. All Owen had was questions. Questions that would never be answered it felt.

“Please…"

Owen’s greatest regret was leaving Trixie in that state. He’d lost control then, just like he’d lost control now. If he was able to keep a level head, maybe things would be different. But he couldn’t. He had too much pent up emotion, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get rid of it all. He wasn’t happy anymore. Ophelia and Hailey stole his smile.

“Apologize, now.”

His mind circled back to Marshall, who was the biggest offender as far as Owen was concerned. Marshall had been his best friend, and Owen had confided in him many times, but Marshall too had allowed himself to be blinded by lies and outrage. He hadn’t given Owen a chance to defend himself.

Owen had to stop hitting the wall. He’d do more and more damage to himself; already he had blood dripping from his fist and onto the ground beside him. But, that didn’t mean he had to stop hitting things. He was too angry to stop, too furious to give up.

It all kept replaying in his mind. He’d bottled emotions up for too long, and now it was exploding. He stepped away from the wall and grabbed a wooden chair that was there for people to sit in to rest, and spun with it in his hands, hurling it against the cement wall. It shattered into a million pieces, and he felt a bit better. But only a bit.

Owen stepped over to one of the weight racks, where a heavy bar sat. He hefted it in one hand and walked across the room to the vending machine. Staring at the glass window to the drinks, Owen pretended it was Marshall’s head. He swung the forty-five pound bar with all his might, moving it as if it were a baseball bat, and the glass shattered.

Owen roared again, and thought about how good it felt. He took a few steps back, and looked at the snack machine. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, he pretended it was Jamie’s face in the reflection, rather than his own. He took both hands and hurled the bar like a spear, and it flew through the air and pierced the glass, causing it to explode.

Glass was working.

He picked up a dumbbell, and walked to the manager's office, throwing it through the window he chose to believe was that blonde kid’s face. Owen felt like a great weight was being lifted off of his shoulders, and he looked around the gym for more things he could break. The receptionist desk was his next target, and he broke it with a plate, slammed down through the center of it.

Owen spent the next thirty minutes trashing the place.

It wasn’t until he ran out of things to break, and again punched the wall, that the adrenaline faded, and he realized very suddenly that he was in pain. He walked to the manager’s office again, carefully stepping over all the glass, and pulled out the first aid kit. He wrapped his hand, broken, bleeding knuckles and all with gauze, and looked around at the carnage of the gym.

“Fuck.”

Owen stepped out of the office, carefully flexing his fingers to see how it felt. The answer was not good. He noticed how sweaty he was, and he carefully surveyed the damage… He had lost himself in a blood rage, and the end result was catastrophic. The vending machines, the receptionist’s desk, the manager’s office, the glass door, and even the window looking outside, were all broken. Shatting glass worked, but the temporary relieved feeling that Owen had was washed over by a huge wave of regret.

He wanted to puke.

And then the bell signaling someone had walked in jingled, and Owen assumed it was Jamie, probably with back up. He spun on his heel, ready to fight to his death…

And then he realized who it actually was.

“Oh. It’s just you. Madi, the sign says closed.”

Not that it mattered — there was almost no door left.

CANCELLED.

_{Sean Sterling, Pearce Sterling, and featuring @Silent Observer as Cassie Sterling
Location: The Sterling Residence}

---

---

Sean’s room was becoming very comfortably outfitted. It wasn’t as flashy as his sister’s, nor was it quite as gaudy as someone with the last name ‘Sterling’ should decorate their room, but it was home. It was home to him. He knew that was what mattered, the more comfortable he was in his own room, the sooner he’d be happy. True and complete happiness, he’d realized, would elude him for a while. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do his best to enjoy what he could.

His room was home to a huge window, outlooking the estate. The window sill was massive, designed once upon a time for the then incredibly nerdy Sean to have an alcove to read in. The alcove had been repurposed by the now grown boy, who wasn’t quite as fond of reading. It now housed what was essentially a personal kitchen, with a small electric heating plate, a few pots, a collection of seasonings he was fond of, and a miniature refrigerator.

Sean himself was working on his supper for the evening. He wasn’t a huge fan of the posh foods that his parents ate, and had instead found himself immensely attracted to straight junk food. Deny a person something for too long, and then suddenly allow them access to it, and the game changes. Sean was constantly eating crap, ranging from Oreo’s to delivered Papa John’s.

Tonight, however, he was in the mood for a lazy classic. On the stove top in his window still, water had been brought to a boil. Dashed with a generous helping of salt, Sean had boiled a pack of instant ramen, something he’d taken a liking to, much to the chagrin of his parents. He didn’t care, though. It was easy, and with the addition of three eggs (simply cracked into the bowl once complete), it was a good source of protein. And Sean needed a good source of protein, he had muscle mass he needed to retain.

So, Sean Sterling had a snack. A bowl of Top Ramen, with three eggs he’d cracked over the top of it, along with a tablespoon of peanut butter. This added protein, and a lovely peanuty flavor. Sean fancied himself a bit of a chef, but really he’d just Googled ‘how do I make instant ramen better,’ and had tried a few different things until he came to a conclusion that he liked what he’d made.

A snack wasn’t the only thing Sean Sterling had. He also had a television, which was currently playing something he’d found on YouTube. A large collection of Tom & Jerry, a show that Sean was fond of. Sean’s opinion on Tom & Jerry was a little, well, a little unpopular. Sean thought that Tom had a pretty good point. All he was ever trying to do was his job: protect his house from mice. And Jerry was always coming up with increasingly elaborate schemes to ruin Tom’s day, and in a lot of ways, ruin his life.

He was the villain, but he was a sympathetic villain, in Sean’s opinion. In some ways, Sean might even go so far as to argue that Tom was an anti-hero. He was driven to insanity by the mouse, always escaping despite his best efforts to simply do his job. And the audience? They sided with Jerry, because the mouse was a bit cuter than Tom. In every way that Sean could look at it, it wasn’t fair.

So, Sean rooted for the villain. As far as he could think, Tom and Jerry was a lopsided show. Maybe it’s because it was designed for children? Maybe he was just getting old. Maybe that’s why he sided with the cat trying to best the cute mouse, rather than the mouse who seemed to set out every day to ruin Tom’s entire life, much more than just his day. Sean slurped the noodles into his mouth, and considered his plan for the day.

It took him only two seconds to realize that he didn’t have any plans. He never did, and there were a variety of reasons for that. Firstly, Sean had no friends. He had his sister, and realistically, he knew he could leech off of her for social life. She seemed to have no shortage of it, anyway. Alternatively, he could text Brynn, but to tell her what? “Hey, Brynn, why don’t you come over? What? You want me to come take you out? Sorry, can’t do that. I don’t have a vehicle.”

That was the second reason why Sean had no plans. With no mode of transportation, Sean was landlocked. He could drive one of the vehicles in the garage, he was certain, but the options were not in his realm of interest. From the bright pink Maserati, to the Aston Martins, and even the luxury BMWs that would all surely drive themselves. Sean didn’t like the very idea that vehicles could drive themselves; he wanted control. All the vehicles he’d used while at the Academy didn’t have the autopilot function, which he vastly preferred. Sean liked having control.

Sean slurped the rest of the ramen noodles down, and idly stared at the screen. “I should have watched Scooby Doo. Maybe I wouldn’t be thinking about how I don’t have anything in my life. I have to get a vehicle, man.” Sean said, to no one in particular — though his Assistant, Harrison responded.

“We are in accord.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna go talk to father…” Sean said as he hopped up to his feet, and slipped out of the room. He walked down the hallway, and to the first of two stops for the evening, his father’s office. He opened the door and saw the older man, sitting behind the massive oaken desk, who was going over some paperwork.

Pearce looked up from his work, and raised an eyebrow. Sean hadn’t spoken to him privately since the day he’d come back, so this had to be good. “Yes, son?” He asked, leaning forward.

“I need a vehicle,” and though Pearce almost immediately went to speak up, Sean was quick to keep going and cut him off before he could say the inevitable of ‘you can have something from the garage,’ “I want a bike. A Ducati Monster. Something that I drive, without the autopilot function, and it runs on gas.” At this, Pearce leaned back in his chair, and considered it quietly.

“Are you licensed?” Pearce asked, receiving a quick nod in response. “Well, I don’t care. But, your mother isn’t going to like it. I hope you have a plan there. If you want my advice? I’d go buy it, and ask her for forgiveness afterwards. Unless you have a powerful case built up in your head, she’s not going to like it. She won’t see what you want, she’ll see you in a crumpled mess on the side of the road.”

Sean shrugged. “I intend to talk to her. There’s no point in driving a bigger rift between me and my parents — you included. It’s going to get worse before it gets better, but I think this would be a good first step toward eventual happiness, right? After all, they say the first step when solving something is simply to admit you have a problem. Well, I’m admitting it. Besides, I can’t show up to school in Selena’s pink car every day, I’ll look like a fucking clown.”

Pearce chuckled, but gave his son a nod. “Then, good luck. Do you need money?” Sean shook his head and Pearce smiled. “I wish you even more good luck in getting her to let you pay for it yourself.” Pearce laughed again and Sean nodded firmly, turning to leave the room with an air of fresh confidence about him.

Sean had spoken with his father, and that hurdle had been as easily jumped as he’d suspected. His mother would be tougher, he knew that much. His mother was a bit of a control freak, to the point that the only one Sean knew of who handled it competently and consistently was his father. Asking her for what he wanted wasn’t exactly going to be ‘easy,’ but then — Sean didn’t plan to really ‘ask’ either. He was giving her more of a courtesy before he went and did it anyway. If she ended up okay with it, good. If not, oh well.

Sean couldn’t continue to show up to school in a sparkly pink Maserati, and even if he did, he needed a mode of transportation all his own, and he had his eyes set on something specific. He wanted a street bike, one of the new ones. Something that ran on gas, and had no autopilot. He liked to be in control. Most likely, he’d inherited that from his mother.

Sean stood in front of the door to her office, dressed in comfortable sweats and a white t-shirt. He knocked, and then let himself in, raising an eyebrow briefly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d really been in here, and honestly? It wasn’t much of an office. His mother sat on a posh sofa, and the wall in front of her was a bright, LED screen, displaying her shopping site. Sean cleared his throat, “Mom? Do you have a second? I wanted to talk about something.”

A blonde woman, who hardly looked a day over fifty, save for the gray hairs and fine lines between her brows and around her mouth — put there by the stresses of having two sets of twins more than the passage of time. Gray hairs were easily treated with expensive dye jobs, and wrinkles could be masked by making the use of her professional makeup artist skills. At this time of day, however, the mask was off, and Cassandra Sterling was relaxing. Cassie looked up from her internet shopping — Gucci was certainly stepping up their handbag game lately — and she gently set down her glass of rosé on the end table when she heard her first born speak.

“What is it, baby?” She asked, looking over her shoulder towards the door and smiling at him. The mother then scooted over and made room for him on the fluffy white sofa, patting at the overstuffed cushion beside her.

Sean did not take the seat on the sofa, instead he chose to sit down on the equally fluffy carpet in front of the sofa. He crossed his legs and placed his hands on his hands on his feet; Sean was very deliberate about this whole process, as if he’d been trained to sit that way.

Cassie watched her son curiously as he chose sitting on the floor rather than taking a seat next to her. Should she feel offended? Her son had been gone for so long, perhaps the distance had created some kind of wedge between them. Or perhaps, he was just growing up… or this was just some part of the lingering sadness that had been clinging to him since he arrived back from his private school. “Why are you sitting on the floor like that, dear?”

Sean looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowed. He hadn’t even considered it as being strange… ”Uh… it’s honestly really comfortable. I don’t know. I’d prefer to sit here.” Sean explained, before he carried on, attacking the subject he wanted to bring up in the first place, “I’ve been thinking. Now that I’m back here for good — and I am back here for good — I need a way to get around from place to place. I’m not interested in Selena carting me around constantly in that… gaudy pink monstrosity.” Sean looked to the sky briefly, hoping this went well.

“I spoke with father already, and he doesn’t much care what I get; mostly, I assume, because I’ll be buying it with my own money, that I earned from my jobs while at the Academy. However, he mentioned that I might want to talk to you about it before I buy it. May I?” Sean reached out for the tablet expectantly, planning to pull it up so that she could see what he had in mind, rather than he explain it.

“Of course, darling!” Cassie exclaimed, shocked that he expected that he needed to ask for such a thing. “The Maserati was Selena’s sixteenth birthday gift… we didn’t get you a car because you weren’t here to drive it, but we can certainly fix that now. And you absolutely do not need to spend your own money on it, your father and I could cover it. What did you dislike about the ‘monstrosity’, just the color, or the style? We could look into another make… perhaps a Mercedes? Or a Porsche?” His mother was being completely agreeable, excited even, at the thought of helping her son get a new vehicle. It could be a good bonding experience, and dropping that kind of money in a night was simply nothing to a Sterling. Cassie went to work clicking away on the tablet that was on her lap, which switched the LED wall-screen from designer purses, to luxury car brands.

Sean frowned. First and foremost, even if he wanted a car, it wouldn’t be a luxury car. It would be a WRX, or something to that extent. Maybe an NSX, but certainly not one of these sedans that his mother seemed to want to push on him. And why couldn’t he use his own money? He’d worked hard for it. “No, I’ve already picked it out. Let me show you.” Sean said, taking the tablet away from her, and looking down at it. He did not turn away from her, wanting to gauge her initial reaction to see how the play should go.

A couple of taps, a quick load, and the vehicle was on the screen in front of her. “I want that.” Sean said, pointing to it, as if for unnecessary emphasis.

Cassie silently blinked her blue eyes at the screen a few times. Oh no, that certainly wasn’t what he was asking for. A two-wheeled death machine?! Absolutely not, she would not allow that. She wasn’t about to lose her beloved eldest boy to a vicious motorcycle accident. “Very funny, Sean. But no. You are not getting on a death trap like that.”

“It’s not a joke,” Sean said defensively. He’d expected a similar reaction, now came the hard part: convincing her that it was fine. “I’m already licensed to ride one. And I’d rather drive something I’m in complete control of. No computer that can interfere. Besides, mom, if you really think about it I’m way safer on that than I would be in a car. I can get out of the way of other people much more quickly on that, and it’s more maneuverable.” Sean chose to gave ‘simple reasoning’ the first round.

“Not if you don’t see them coming! Everything else on the road is bigger! I’ve watched the accidents on the news, and I won’t have that be you. I can’t lose my boy when I just got him back.” Cassandra said sternly, thought her lips danced into a sad frown at the last part. This request genuinely worried her. “Anything else, Seany. You can get anything else… something safe.”

Sean frowned. Well, simple reasoning didn’t work. Sean looked at his lap and pondered his next move, “I don’t want us to fight,” he said after a few moments of quiet contemplation, “but this is what I want. Nothing else is going to be good enough, and I grew up hearing from you and father alike that a Sterling isn’t going to have anything that isn’t good enough.” Sean tried another route, still keeping himself away from aggression. That would come as a last resort, and in some ways, he could see where his mother was coming from.

The Sterling matriarch studied her son. Sean’s frown broke her heart, broke it enough to make her want to cave, but she couldn’t fight her own motherly instincts. A mama bear had to make sure her cub was safe, even if that cub was tall, and strong, and growing up far too fast. Cassie sighed and took a swift gulp of blush colored wine before speaking again. “You are right, a Sterling doesn’t settle for anything but the best. If you have done your research, let me see the safety ratings. If you insist on a two-wheeled death machine, then I insist that you pick the safest one.”

Sean helplessly shrugged his shoulders. He only saw this going two ways: option A) was he went and bought it alone with his own money, without the okay from his mother; and option B) was he and his mother set a date to go and pick it up together. He much preferred option B, it would keep things from getting too stressful and dramatic around the house. Once she cracked, there was no denying the whisper of a smile that graced Sean’s face. “Thank you. I’m glad this went mostly well. I don’t want our relationship be rocky, but I do have my wants and needs and I will stand up for myself when I need to.” Sean pulled up the safety ratings, rather reluctantly, but looked at his mother, his face very serious. “Consider that me saying ‘I’m growing up, please don’t stifle me.’”

Seeing her son smile, even slightly, melted her heart. Sean didn’t smile nearly enough for her liking, and if buying this ridiculous vehicle made him that happy… well, she could at least try to be supportive of the idea. She certainly didn’t like it, but she could try. When he said the last part, though, she lost it. Maybe the wine was getting to her, or it was just her overly dramatic nature, but Cassie quickly got down off of the couch to be beside him. She had knocked over the glass of rosé in the process, but she hardly noticed, as she flung her arms around Sean to pull him into a big hug. “Nooo, you’re not growing up. You’re gonna stay my baby, my little blue-eyed boy.” Cassie said into his hair, kissing the top of his head and hugging him tighter.

Oh, geeze. Maybe that had been a mistake. Sean had to quietly hope that this wouldn't take away the work he’d just completed in convincing her to let him get the bike that he wanted. Sean rather awkwardly wrapped his arms around Cassie, trying his best to give an appropriately tight hug. “It’s okay. I’ll still be your baby. Just… independent. And that’s okay. Because I’ll still come to you when I need help, plus… it’s easier to be friends with your kids when they grow up, right? Rather than just a parent.” Before getting into a rather philosophical discussion with his slightly drunk mother, Sean pressed on. “So… do you wanna head to the dealership? Like, tonight. Now, even.”

Cassie sighed against Sean again. She shouldn’t be caving, but here she was, doing exactly that. Cass cleared her throat before speaking to her Assistant. “Myrtle, when does the nearest Ducati dealer close?” The feminine voice responded with a confirmation that they had a few hours to shop around, it also provided the address and the traffic patterns of the quickest route to the dealership. “Everything stays open so late in LA… well, let’s go do this, before I change my mind.”