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@WindsOfFate"Shit on a candle stick..." Eva mumbled as she tried, ever so elegantly, to slip herself back out of Amelia's room at the sound of Damar's voice. Damn bitch had already ratted on her. What was the big deal about those clothes anyway? They could just buy her more. Rolling her eyes, Eva continued to mount her escape after returning Amelia's bag to her room.
As she exited the room, however, she heard someone's footsteps at the door.
"Shit, they would go check her room first wouldn't they?" She whispered to herself, actually hitting herself on the forehead as if to get onto herself for not realizing this sooner. In doing so, she wasted much of the time she could have used to escape as Damar finally arrived in time to see her crouched in the hall way, waddling her way towards her room, Amelia's room still cracked.
She cringed when she heard Alex's voice screaming into the hallway. Pushing herself up off the ground, she turned just as Lance arrived and started yelling back at Alex,
"Byeol, byeol, byeol?! What the hell did I do?" She asked, hoping that she'd be able to convince them she wasn't incredibly suspicious.
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Elizabeth had been talking to the others happily when she noticed a blur streak past her and cling to Damar. When she finally realized who it was, she rushed over to them, but didn't say anything. What happened? Did a butler take her things by accident? Why would they do that if they were already in her room? Maybe they took them to get washed?
Without another sound, Elizabeth rushed off to find Madam Kleine to ask about the laundry and who had been in Amelia's room.
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"And you're sure there will be adults there?" Peter asked, narrowing his eyes at Lance.
Still staring into the bathroom mirror, his hands rubbing more product into his hair, Lance replied to his uncle,
"Honestly, Samchon, it's like you don't even trust me.""Because I don't." He replied, sighing.
"Well, trust that there are plenty of people there to help keep me in line." Lance returned, straighten once he was satisfied with his hair.
"It's not like I trust you that much either." He added, a smirk on his lips. His own money had paid for his uncles new flat screen, so he didn't exactly feel bad for all the trouble he caused his uncle.
"Just make sure I don't get another call from the police station. You're not a kid anymore." Peter finished, already plugged back into his football game.
"Right..." Lance replied. Half those times his uncle just referenced were caused by his uncles issues. It was his friends that had antagonized him to begin with. He just... gave them what they wanted. Sighing, Lance walked the sort distance to his closet of a room and grabbed the bag he' packed the night before. He'd have to get some more clothes while he was there.
He smirked, the thought of asking Damar to go with him crossing his mind. What better way to get closer to the one you like than to wear the clothes they pick out.
...
Lance would never do that though. Pushing the thought away, Lance waved lazily to his uncle, a vain gesture that his uncle didn't even see, before leaving the apartment. He walked the few miles it took to get to the bus stop and stood for a few minutes waiting, regretting the long sleeved sweater he was wearing. He stared ahead as he listened to the girls around him squeal with excitement.
"He's so cute!""I know! Think he has a girlfriend?""Like you'd even approach him." "Watch me."But before the girl could approach him, the bus pulled up and Lance hurried on-board, suddenly searching for his headphones. Nothing said, "Leave me the fuck alone." quite like a pair of headphones and resting bitch face. Both of which, he prompted put on. He wasn't one for small talk and making friends was a long process for him. He stared out the window, trying to ignore the stares of the girls. Eventually, however, he gave up and sent them a vicious glare. They jumped, surprised, and turned away, suddenly chatting to each other again, probably about how mean he looked now.
The rest of the trip went about the same. A few more bus stops, more sweating, more irritating looks and comments and finally he found himself at the bus stop just miles from Elizabeth's home. His sleeves were now rolled up and sweat was beading at his forehead. He probably looked like shit and he desperately wanted a shower so he could look and feel normal. No doubt some of them would have something to say about his appearance. Maybe he could sneak in and find a shower before the others saw him.
...Doubtful.
Still, he was going to try. He wasn't particular about what others thought of him but... He didn't really want Damar seeing him like this... As he walked however, a group of tough looking teens were leaning against one of the tall stone walls on the street. He sighed, watching as one of them tapped the other's shoulder and pointed at Lance.
Lance sighed and closed his eyes. He just needed to ignore them and move on. It wasn't worth walking into the house with cuts all over his face, but like usual, Lance wasn't going to get his way. 15 minutes later, two of the boys were high-tailing it out of there and another was puking his guts out from where Lance had punched his stomach. Lance, was again regretting his choice in clothes. He honestly wasn't expecting it to be so hot today. He now had a few bruises on his face and a cut in his lip. His knuckles were red but otherwise he was fine. He continued on, growing more irritated with each passing second.
It was never his fault. They always seemed to egg him on. Even those kids, thinking they were tough and that the Asian guy couldn't possibly be good at fighting. He snorted. What a joke.
About half an hour later, Lance was at the house, his bag still pulled over his shoulder, which... now that he had time to really focus on it, felt bruised as well. He couldn't really tell if it was from those kids or from another time, however. He'd have to have a look when he found a shower.
He didn't have to look in a mirror to realize how shitty he must look like now. Sweaty and slightly beaten. He sighed and pushed his hair, now wet with sweat, away from his eyes. He noticed what he assumed to be the front door and steered clear, instead snaking his way around the building to find another door. Which, he promptly found and entered. He smiled at the familiar sight of the kitchen, where he'd often made pancakes for himself, Eva, and Elizabeth.
The memory turned sour however, when he realized that was the only meal he knew how to make. He'd have to spend a bit more time in the kitchen this summer and learn some dishes. He actually quite liked cooking. Sighing, he made his way upstairs in time to see Eva, crouched on the floor, Alex pointing, yelling at her, and Damar standing at the top of the other set of stairs. He watched his brow raised as Eva replied rather frantically. He knew, from the way she was acting, she'd done something. What, he didn't know.
He blinked, confused, tired, sweaty and already irritated.
"What the hell did you do this time, Eva?" He asked, the irritation leaking into his tone. He dropped his bag on the floor and let himself lean against the wall, his leg suddenly giving him a bit of a fit. He feared that if he didn't do this, he might actually just crumble on the spot. He was fit, but he also just walked a very long ways and gotten into a fight. Which, if he thought about it, those kids might have hit him in the legs a few times.
If Lance was being honest, he often zoned out during fights, not realizing the injuries he received until a while after the adrenaline died down. Still, he was more focused on what the hell was going on than how much his knee was aching.
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