NeoAJ

Edenridge

The morning was a blur. The room was a blur. The clothes were a blur. Everything was a blur.

Probably because Jillian was still somewhat reeling from the wake-up call, but it was an apt description of the past... month? Two months? It was hard to tell at this point. Everything ran together.

Knowing that she could probably expect a response at some point from Mei, she went through the motions of getting ready to be outside of her room, while not expecting to do so for long. In the old days, this was a meticulously choreographed routine. From how many brushes her lashes got from the mascara wand, to the right amount of peanut butter to smear on her toast, the Jillian O'Brien of the Edenridge days was a well-oiled machine. Now? Jill glanced around the scattered clothing on the floor, wondering if she could get away with wearing anything for a second day. Nah. Mom's seen me in all of these at this point... She begrudgingly went to her wardrobe to pick out a fresh outfit of an oversized black Bruins tank top and a pair of jean shorts, both salvaged from a thrift store when she thought she would need clothing more for comfort than style. It was all she really cared to put on at the moment. Makeup? That was a joke question, right?

She trudged out of her ground-floor room and into the kitchen where her mother sat at the table, clearly in the midst of getting ready for work, but Shannon O'Brien's ears worked just fine. "Hey Jilly! Help yourself to whatever is left on the stove. It'll probably be ice cold by the time Grace gets to eating. She turned around for a moment, but after confirming her youngest daughter's presence, went back to presumably scanning whatever paper she had in front of her.

Jillian stared down at the melange of hash browns, scrambled eggs and the couple strips of bacon that had been left out. In lighter times, there wouldn't be a scrap left after Ronan and Kieren had gotten through the offerings. But of course, they had moved on to bigger and better things. For Jillian, that better thing was the idea to avoid having to put much effort into making this a meal. She fished a tortilla out of a pack from the pantry, placed it on a plate, and dumped all the contents from the stove onto it.

The sound of the fridge opening made Shannon turn around again, spotting the pile Jillian had made. "Honey bean, what are you doing?"

Jillian stood defiantly with the jar of salsa in her hand. "What? It's a breakfast burrito. If anything, I'm being very efficient."

"OK, Rachael Ray," she answered as she sipped the last of her coffee. "Not going to argue. Just, don't get it all over your room, OK? Don't need ants again."

"I won't. I'll just get it on me. Then the ants can have me."

Shannon sighed in resignation. "Just... try to get outside for a bit, OK? It's a beautiful day today. You don't want to waste it cooped up in your room."

That earned a shrug and a retreat from Jillian. "Seems like a great time to me..." she mumbled to herself as she took her breakfast hall back to her room.

A couple of bites hit her mouth as she plunked the plate down on her dusty vanity, the mirror long faded over with detritus, much like the pictures that refused to come down. She went back to her phone and saw the message from her best friend and drinking partner. "Least someone understands me." She looked around her room for a second time, this time wondering if any bottles still held what she needed. It looked like half the Smirnoff somehow survived yesterday's battle, so that was a start. Still, she would probably need more. Maybe Ronan's skeezy friend Kevin was working at the convenience store today. That would be an easy way to restock. She stuck the vodka in a backpack as she nibbled at her breakfast while scouring the area. The only thing that stopped her was the pebble that came flying at her window.

While secretly hoping another dumb bug pinged itself off the glass, Jillian looked out and saw her friend, ready and waiting, answering the call for another round. Mei seemed to be the only one left in the town that Jillian could actually talk to about, well, anything and everything. Certainly not her family. They just wanted happy Jilly back. That girl was gone. At least Mei embraced her for who she was, and for that, she had the O'Brien girl's absolute loyalty.

Jillian lifted the window of the room, struggling at first given how long it had been since she allowed fresh air to breeze through her room, but eventually lifting the heavy pane up to grant access. "Hey there, Midnight Rider. Glad the daytime ain't stoppin' ya. You wanna come in, or should I join ya out there? I can share my breakfast burrito if you're dying for a snack."

Rosefell High.

---

Smug fucking pricks.

Of course, Melissa couldn't expect stuck-up pieces of trash to learn from the first interaction. Their parents probably paid other people to do the learning for them. It was clear there weren't any social skills on display. But having watched her fair share of Disney movies growing up, this was an opportunity for the Ohioan to do what none of those Mighty Ducks or High School Musical kids ever seemed to want to do to their rivals.

At least, until she was interrupted.

"Excuse me! Hi. Is the punch good? I just got here so... I'm a bit behind. The name's Trixie. Well, Beatrix, really. I think you're Melissa, right? and you, DeShawn? Please correct me if I'm wrong! I think you both have some classes with my brother."

Well, at least Trixie was showing a bit more class than these other fools. It was enough to get Melissa to snap out of revenge mode for a moment to play the gracious host she usually was at these sorts of things. "Hi Trixie! I can call you Trixie, right? Well, you are correct on your names, and you know what, I think Dee here can help you out and get you some punch." A devilish smirk spread across her face. "But be careful! she said quietly, not wanting to completely telegraph what was to come as revenge filled her mind once more. "It's got a hell of a kick to it."

After winking at Trixie to punctuate the warning for her, she turned around to her true target. A target that stupidly turned his back on her thinking that they were done. Not by a longshot. Not when had so much to be taught. Like that all boys have the same weakness. A weakness Melissa was familiar with. She reared back and promptly buried her cranberry juice-stained Aldo flat right into Jackson's junk, intent on kicking so hard the snake charm on the front would leave a permanent imprint on his scrotum. She could feel she hit paydirt too. Those shoes weren't that thick after all.

Content to let her boytoy crumple after such a kick, Melissa went back to Miki for another tongue lashing. "I'm sorry, did I not make myself perfectly fucking clear? This is my fucking universe. This is the Rosefell universe. There are no high roads here, you stuck-up little bitch! You think there was an opportunity to sneer down your ugly $2000 nose job at us? Fuck. No. So since you saw how my foot apologizes to absolute pissant little shits who wouldn't know a muscle if one slapped him in the face, you ready to actually fight for yourself instead of buying your way out of trouble? Cause you better believe this ain't over, yet. And if you've stalked me enough to know my Insta handle, you know the kind of fight you're in for. Or maybe you just can't wait to get physical with me, can you girl? Either way, I'm right here and your pathetic excuse of a man is down for the count, so put up or shut up!" Melissa raised her arms defiantly in front of the former Liberty student. "You want this fucking crown? Come and try to take it from me."

Rosefell High.

So far, Savannah's stint at this shindig had been rather dull by her standards. There hadn't been any brawls or cat fights. No one had offered her anything harder than a joint. It wasn't much, at least for her liking. Sure, she had been able to successfully intimidate a couple of boys who clearly thought they had a shot with her before learning otherwise. But she could do that anytime she pleased.

Still, it seemed like business was picking up. While making her way towards the drink table, she could easily spot one of her usual clients in the middle of something. Or at least, she could spot what she assumed was her boyfriend next to her. Melissa had gotten into something with what looked like a couple of rich kids. Savannah could get behind that kind of action. Or get some action going on the side.

With a hushed tone as to not attract the attention of the combatants, she started asking around, her Texan drawl slowed to try and entice some trusting fools to take her up on her offer. "All right, who wants in on this? I've got Melissa and her boy as the 2-1 favorites, but if there's some kind of martial arts training with the rich kids I don't know about, it's someone's chance to pick up some money here! Who wants in?" Not forgetting the reason she got close enough to this action, she more loudly turned to the crowd by the drinks table. "One of you dolls want to find me a bottle of whiskey and hand it over? Can't watch something like this go down without some beverages."

Rosefell High.

---

Inside, Alina let out a huge sigh of relief. There didn't appear to be any awkwardness between her two party companions. She should have guessed Hunter's seemingly endless natural charm would have seen to that, but Raven could be a little wild at times. At least wild compared to Alina now. But for now, things seemed to be going well. This was good for her?

But was it good for Raven? The noises caused Alina to turn her head and she could see that asshole Theo up to his old tricks. She said this as if she had intimate knowledge of everything, but really everything came secondhand from Raven. Girls got girls though, so Theo was an asshole, and if what Raven had told her about him was true, he had found himself another target to leech on to. Alina watched her friend and her face said it all. That was no tequila cringe. That was pure disgust.

She waited, unsure what to do. Old Alina might have just charged in and dropped a challenge to try and make Theo look enough like a fool that no girl would want him. However, she wasn't nearly confident enough to do that now. She'd muck it up for sure. Besides, the flight response hadn't been activated in Raven just yet. Besides, it seemed like the crowd was circulating around something else.

Alina reached over and put her hand on Raven's shoulder, as if to let her know she wasn't alone in sending all the negative vibes. "That's my girl. Thanks for the support, Ray." Content to let Hunter offer up a distraction, she turned to the boy who was helping both of them deal with their respective distractions at this point. "All right, Hunter. What's your game, and how do you want to play this?"

Rosefell High.

---

If you wanted to make Melissa Elliott mad, you badmouthed the Knights or insinuated something about her and Zoey’s upbringing given the lack of a father figure. If you wanted to make her irate, you called her Missy. While she adored the music, the bombardment of Missy Elliott jokes she had gotten over the course of her life because of her name had left her a tad sensitive to the subject, and she quickly put a stop to that upon entering the halls of Rosefell. No one dared use that nickname for her anymore.

Of course, it would stand to reason she would have to educate these Liberty fools about the price paid for using it. Double for this little trollope who dared insinuate she was the clumsy one! How dare she? She didn’t maintain the most serene grace on the balance beam and on the sidelines to fumble remnants of alcohol willy-nilly! Besides, she was probably the one who pushed this fool into her! Oh she was going to get it.

And her little boytoy too! Nice of him to apparently grow a spine when threatening a teenage girl. What a mouth on this one! Too bad he clearly didn’t have the muscles to back it up, looking like some boy-band singer, and Melissa was never one to let gender stop her from giving people a thrashing. It helped knowing she had the backup. It didn’t take much for Dee to announce his presence behind her. The perks of their relationship were apparent yet again.

Melissa looked back and smiled at her not-official-boyfriend as he let Jackson know who his dance partner would be if he wanted it. “Thanks Dee. I know you’ve got my back. But they’re going to need the help.” She took a couple breaths allowing herself to center as she stood in front of Miki and Jackson, interlopers that needed to be put in their place.

Miki fired the first shot, she could get the first taste. “Now you listen and listen good, bitch, because I’m only going to be this calm when I deliver this speech once. I don’t know who you think you are, and I don’t know if I care, but if you know I’m the queen around here, which congratulations on making one correct assumption, then you should know exactly what I’m about and what exactly I can do to you to make your life miserable. And you’ve already made two incorrect assumptions that are going to make you look like quite the ass. First, I can handle my drink better than you any day of the week, so while you may have been tipsy enough to shove this stick over here,” Melissa motioned towards Jackson. “into my path towards the beverages that I put on this table, I need more than that to put my feet in places where they don’t belong. Like you shoving yours in your big mouth. And second, you can put some god damn respek on my name when you say it. It’s Melissa, and you would do best to learn it if you want to do anything other than wear a mascot head at this school. And don’t think I won’t send Spike packing to make that happen! So if you want to offer me an apology, I’m all ears. Or I will be in about three minutes.”

Content with how she established Miki’s place in the pecking order, she turned to the larger Jackson. “And you! You talk to women with that mouth? Maybe you’ve been hanging around with this one,” she now motioned to Miki, “Too much, or maybe you just skipped the etiquette classes I’m sure you had over at Liberty, but guess what, beanpole? YOU AREN’T THERE ANYMORE! What the fuck did you do to make any of this happen? Fuck, what did you do to make anything happen, other than spilling my god damn drink all over the deck? I know god damn well I’m more capable than you of running a school, a bake sale, a lemonade stand and a lap, because you look fucking pathetic! Threatening a woman, what is wrong with you? If you’re looking for beggars, go check where your school stands empty, I’m sure they fucking moved in. But I don’t give a shit where you think you are, or what turf you claim to be on, you’re in my fucking universe now, and I will make damn sure you get blinked out of existence if you try and pull this kind of reverse bullshit maneuver on me! Step to that, you useless fuckstick!”

Satisfied, Melissa gave a quick flick of her hair to make sure it fell back in place following her tirade, and she turned to Dee. “Didn’t think I was going to need an escort to the booze table, Dee, but you want to head over there with me? Make sure no more pieces of trash drift into my path?”

Edenridge

Lockers. That's all she could see. Just a maze of lockers. It didn't make sense. There were doors somewhere around there right? There had to be. What good was storage space without any way to bring stuff in? But there were no doors. There was no escape.

She could hear the footsteps. They were coming for her. She kept running but there was nowhere to go. The footsteps were growing louder, surrounding her auditory field. Were they coming from in front of her now? She couldn't tell. Everything was confusing. This was school, right? What was happening?

Her shoes betrayed her, coming loose and sending her sprawling to the tile. Her hands try to catch her but they splay out, leaving her unable to spring up quickly. The footsteps are loud and ringing in her ears. She closes her eyes to shut them out before they stop. She opens them and sees two pairs of feet standing in front of her. She looks up. She can't see their faces, but they look familiar? Why? Why are they familiar? Why are they holding guns? No! No not here! Not he-

Before the bang comes, a loud knock on the door interrupts. The redhead who was certain it was her time to go bolts up in her bed, looking around in a haze.

"Jilly! If you want breakfast, you're going to have to show yourself and get it!"

That voice confirms that Jillian O'Brien's mother was the one to save her youngest child from another dream ending in death. Jillian grumbled and fell back down onto her bed. "...Whatever. I don't need any more hash browns." The grumble in her stomach contradicted that sentiment, however. Maybe some food was necessary.

It could wait though. Phone first. Phone was the primary method of communication, at least with those Jillian still wanted to communicate with. Granted it had shrunk by a wide margin since the days when she got that Samsung A51 just before senior year. She was due for an upgrade, but she knew nothing about getting phones, and then there was going to the mall and that was not where she wanted to be right now. Instead, she relied on her aging device to dash off a quick text to the one remaining person from the squad she maintained contact with.

"Hey, Miss Midnight. You awake? Dreams are assholes and I want to forget they keep happening. Could use a partner if I'm dancing this early."

Edenridge

Jillian O’Brien

Name

Jillian Aisling O'Brien

Nicknames

Jill, Jilly

Age

19

Gender

Female

Sexuality

Bi, but prefers men

Relationship Status

It’s way too complicated

Appearance Details

• Hair: Long red hair, usually worn straight down. She hasn’t had the energy to do much other than put it up in a ponytail lately.
• Eyes: Light Brown
• Height: 5’5”
• Body Type: Still fairly athletic given what she did in high school, but has shown signs of starting to slip a little bit.
• Clothing Style: Rather than dress up to the role she thought she had to play in high school, lately it’s been all about comfort for Jillian. She’ll stick to leggings and t-shirts most of the time, although she will still get dressed up when the occasion warrants it.
• Makeup Wise: Again, more about comfort now than anything, most of Jillian’s appearances are made without makeup. She’ll still put the full press on for social events, she still remembers her steps, but lately they have seemed less important. She does favor smoky eyeshadow and bright red lipstick.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Her ears are pierced twice in each lobe and once in her right helix. She is debating getting more. She doesn't have any tattoos yet, but has already offered her body up to Mei Ramsey as a canvas to work upon. She has a couple scars on her stomach and a deeper one behind her left ear related to the incident that sent Michael to jail.

Personality Traits

For someone who maintained such a positive attitude when she entered Edenridge, it’s been startling, yet understandable to see naught but tiny shreds of it remain. Jillian can still summon what she needs to put on a pretty face, and when in public, she does her best to be the person who can keep spirits up as she did in high school, but it’s become clear that it’s more a mask than anything else at this point.

In private, she has been left alone to mourn, to be alone with her sadness. It’s been difficult. She’s not been coping well, and her family has been trying to make inroads with little success. She’s withdrawn a lot, so she doesn’t have to wear the mask as often. Because it does not fit anymore. Not without the support she’s lost along the way. On all fronts.

Biography

CW: violence, death, domestic violence

Jillian O’Brien, of the Edenridge O’Briens as the family was usually keen to inform people before the events started happening, was born and raised in town. The youngest of five, she was always treated as the baby of the family, and she was happy to play the part most of the time, getting whatever she wanted in exchange for being her usual adorable self. She was enrolled in dance when she was going through grade school, and parlayed that into a spot on the cheerleading squad. Alison Davies was the pinnacle of everything Jillian was meant to be, and she was ready to follow that path. Until Ali was no longer there to light the way.

Jillian was crushed by the loss of an idol of Alison’s stature, but she pressed on. There were people on the team that needed her. She grew close with the other members of the squad as they pressed on in the shadow of Miss Davies’ demise. Lanie and Mei and Liv and Kat became like the sisters that hadn’t gone off to Boston College and other places that weren’t Edenridge for the moment. They helped deal with the passing of her father Shane to lung cancer in her sophomore year. It was tough, but they were able to move on. Until Charlie Decker happened.

Jillian didn’t even remember Charlie. Did they share a class at some point? They were both seniors, maybe freshman English? Anyway, she remembered his name after that. She remembered him shooting through the door of the barricaded science lab she and the rest of her Biology class were in, catching Mr. Lazovic in the shoulder and arm, and poor Matthew Carson in the head. Matthew didn’t make it out. Neither did Olivia Madden or Katherine Dunbar. Charlie got them both in the library. The last text in their group chat was about making plans for a weekend trip to Boston for some shopping ahead of senior year. Plans that never came to fruition.

Losing two of her best friends on top of her father and her role model took a lot out of Jill. It took a lot out of the squad. They all had their various breakdowns. Eventually, Jill was able to connect again, with a previous graduate of Edenridge named Michael Barrie who had come back following the tragedy to offer support. He escorted Jillian to the very subdued prom and eventually she moved into the Barrie’s house as Michael left his undergrad degree to stay in town with his new paramour.

However, Michael also had his own mask, and that was hiding the drunken lout he had a tendency to be at home. His own way of coping with the stress. Jillian joined in at first, as it seemed as good a coping method as any, but as things got serious and Jillian looked like she was going to join her fellow cheerleader in welcoming a child into the world, his drinking got worse. About 5 ½ months into the pregnancy, Jillian confronted Michael about what he was doing to himself, not wanting to lose another male presence to his own vices.

Michael responded by shoving Jillian down the stairs to the main lobby of the Barrie house. Michael’s sister Tamara heard the noise and called the cops. Michael was arrested, but the damage was done. Jillian lost her baby. Michael was sentenced to a year in prison. Jillian moved back in with her mother, who has been doing her best to comfort a life that Jillian is not certain she wants anymore. All the tragedy, the needlessly lost lives. Jillian doesn’t know what she did to deserve it. She still will come when called, she still responds to social responsibilities, but it was clear that losing baby Olivia (she wanted another to name Katherine) may have been the final straw.

Family

Shannon O’Brien - Mother - Veterinarian - FC: Amy Adams
Kathleen O’Brien - Aunt - Freelance Writer/Babysitter - FC: Isla Fisher
Heather O’Brien - Oldest Sister - VP Operations for Hudson Dynamics in Boston - FC: Bonnie Wright
Grace O’Brien - Older Sister - Artist - FC: Juliette Angelo
Kieren O’Brien - Oldest Brother - Brewery Manager for Bay State Brews in Lowell
Ronan O’Brien - Older Brother - Mechanic/Volunteer Firefighter - FC: Cameron Monaghan

Misc.

Madi Petsch | fd9100

• Lives with her mother along with Grace, as the others have moved out.
• Still drives the 2015 CR-5 she received as a graduation gift, although given her recent drinking spells, she doesn't drive often.
• Despite what Michael did to her, she still drinks regularly to deal with all the pain since she doesn’t know what else to do.
• Was planning on doing a pre-law degree at BC prior to getting involved with Michael.
• Has made appearances on Mei Ramsey's podcast under the pseudonym "Ashes", where she mimics the Irish accent of her grandmother and tries to divine traits of crimes while swearing way too much.
• Her favorite song is Royals by Lorde, but a more fitting theme song may be Lonely People by Orla Gartland.

Edenridge

Jillian O’Brien

Name

Jillian Aisling O'Brien

Nicknames

Jill, Jilly

Age

19

Gender

Female

Sexuality

Bi, but prefers men

Relationship Status

It’s way too complicated

Appearance Details

• Hair: Long red hair, usually worn straight down. She hasn’t had the energy to do much other than put it up in a ponytail lately.
• Eyes: Light Brown
• Height: 5’5”
• Body Type: Still fairly athletic given what she did in high school, but has shown signs of starting to slip a little bit.
• Clothing Style: Rather than dress up to the role she thought she had to play in high school, lately it’s been all about comfort for Jillian. She’ll stick to leggings and t-shirts most of the time, although she will still get dressed up when the occasion warrants it.
• Makeup Wise: Again, more about comfort now than anything, most of Jillian’s appearances are made without makeup. She’ll still put the full press on for social events, she still remembers her steps, but lately they have seemed less important. She does favor smoky eyeshadow and bright red lipstick.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Her ears are pierced twice in each lobe and once in her right helix. She is debating getting more. She has a couple scars on her stomach related to the incident.

Personality Traits

For someone who maintained such a positive attitude when she entered Edenridge, it’s been startling, yet understandable to see naught but tiny shreds of it remain. Jillian can still summon what she needs to put on a pretty face, and when in public, she does her best to be the person who can keep spirits up as she did in high school, but it’s become clear that it’s more a mask than anything else at this point.

In private, she has been left alone to mourn, to be alone with her sadness. It’s been difficult. She’s not been coping well, and her family has been trying to make inroads with little success. She’s withdrawn a lot, so she doesn’t have to wear the mask as often. Because it does not fit anymore. Not without the support she’s lost along the way. On all fronts.

Biography

CW: violence, death, domestic violence

Jillian O’Brien, of the Edenridge O’Briens as the family was usually keen to inform people before the events started happening, was born and raised in town. The youngest of five, she was always treated as the baby of the family, and she was happy to play the part most of the time, getting whatever she wanted in exchange for being her usual adorable self. She was enrolled in dance when she was going through grade school, and parlayed that into a spot on the cheerleading squad. Alison Davies was the pinnacle of everything Jillian was meant to be, and she was ready to follow that path. Until Ali was no longer there to light the way.

Jillian was crushed by the loss of an idol of Alison’s stature, but she pressed on. There were people on the team that needed her. She grew close with the other members of the squad as they pressed on in the shadow of Miss Davies’ demise. Lanie and Liv and Kat became like the sisters that hadn’t gone off to Boston College and other places that weren’t Edenridge for the moment. They helped deal with the passing of her father Shane to lung cancer in her sophomore year. It was toughThey were able to move on. Until Charlie Decker happened.

Jillian didn’t even remember Charlie. Did they share a class at some point? They were both seniors, maybe freshman English? Anyway, she remembered his name after that. She remembered him shooting through the door of the barricaded science lab they were in, catching Mr. Lazovic in the shoulder and arm, and poor Matthew Carson in the head. Matthew didn’t make it out. Neither did Olivia Madden or Katherine Dunbar. Charlie got them both in the library. The last text in their group chat was about making plans for a weekend trip to Boston for some shopping ahead of senior year. Plans that never came to fruition.

Losing two of her best friends on top of her father and her role model took a lot out of Jill. It took a lot out of the squad. They all had their various breakdowns. Eventually, Jill was able to connect again, with a previous graduate of Edenridge named Michael Barrie who had come back following the tragedy to offer support. He escorted Jillian to the very subdued prom and eventually she moved into the Barrie’s house as Michael left his undergrad degree to stay in town with his new paramour.

However, Michael also had his own mask, and that was hiding the drunken lout he had a tendency to be at home. His own way of coping with the stress. Jillian joined in at first, as it seemed as good a coping method as any, but as things got serious and Jillian looked like she was going to join her fellow cheerleader in welcoming a child into the world, his drinking got worse. About 5 ½ months into the pregnancy, Jillian confronted Michael about what he was doing to himself, not wanting to lose another male presence to his own vices.

Michael responded by shoving Jillian down the stairs to the main lobby of the Barrie house. Michael’s sister Tamara heard the noise and called the cops. Michael was arrested, but the damage was done. Jillian lost her baby. Michael was sentenced to a year in prison. Jillian moved back in with her mother, who has been doing her best to comfort a life that Jillian is not certain she wants anymore. All the tragedy, the needlessly lost lives. Jillian doesn’t know what she did to deserve it. She still with come when called, she still responds to social responsibilities, but it was clear that losing baby Olivia (she wanted another to name Katherine) may have been the final straw.

Family

Shannon O’Brien - Mother - Veterinarian
Kathleen O’Brien - Aunt - Freelance Writer/Babysitter
Heather O’Brien - Oldest Sister - VP Operations for Hudson Dynamics in Boston
Grace O’Brien - Older Sister - Artist
Kieren O’Brien - Oldest Brother - Brewery Manager for Bay State Brews in Lowell
Ronan O’Brien - Older Brother - Mechanic

Misc.

Madi Petsch | fd9100

• Lives with her mother along with Grace, as the others have moved out.
• Still drives the 2015 CR-5 she received as a graduation gift.
• Despite what Michael did to her, she still drinks regularly to deal with all the pain since she doesn’t know what else to do.
• Was planning on doing a pre-law degree at BC prior to getting involved with Michael.
• Her favorite song is Royals by Lorde, but a more fitting theme song may be Lonely People by Orla Gartland

Rosefell High.

---

Melissa was feeling all her powers at the moment. Checking in with various members of the party made sure that her fellow Rosefell students knew where the happy juice was coming from and that her new Liberty subjects knew where they stood. But most of all, that they were having a good time. And for the most part everyone was, thanks to the provided beverages and the high from the Knights' victory earlier in the evening. Things were pretty good. The only problem was that her glass was nearing empty again.

As she tried to make her way back towards the table that held the promise of refills, the crowd was starting to pack together. This wasn't acceptable. As the cheerleader aimed to muscle her way through towards the nectar, it was proving more difficult than she believed. She was bracing for a bulldozing attempt that would have made J.K. Dobbins proud.

However, her attempt was thwarted as someone bumped into her, knocking her off balance and causing her to drop what remained of her vodka cran. Now she would have to get a new cup as well? Animals. "Hey! Watch where you're going, you lummox," she cautioned as she looked over as the black-haired person responsible for this new problem emerging to block this quest.

Rosefell High.

---

It was something. What it was exactly, Alina Zabrecky wasn't sure, but it was clearly something.

Here she was, following a guy she just met, at a party full of people she didn't know, off to table filled with concoctions that were guaranteed to impair her judgment and her inhibitions, and allowing said guy she just met to pick her poison. Did that make any sense?

It did for now. And there were worse guys. If it turned out this was the same Hunter that showed Niki around the school, then they did luck out. He seemed nice enough. Nice as Dee at least. So this was fine, right? She wasn't going to worry about things, right?

Right.

Christian was providing all this alcohol, she might as well enjoy it. And Hunter seemed to have a better eye for it than she did. Maybe that shouldn't have been a point in his favor, but for now, it was working. Working enough to have him hold her hand as he guided the way to the promised land. This is fine. This is just him making sure he doesn't lose me in this crowd. That makes sense. It's fine. This isn't a sign that, you know, I got some guy interested in me with just one conversation. It's fine.

"So what's your poison?"

Alina tried to fake it like she knew exactly what her poison was as she perused what was on the table. Random red cups seemed like a bad idea. “I mean, you did say you wanted more than just craft beer, didn’t you?” She did. But she had to at least make sure that she had some idea what was going into it. Plus having some kind of buffer between herself and the alcohol seemed smart.

"Um..... I'll have some of that, with some of that." Pointing at two random things seemed like a plan. She didn't have much of one.

But the other facet of the plan did show up. "Help has arrived, darling,” Her cajoling had worked. Raven Willow had appeared to give her some semblance of a lifeline to the outside world. She immediately stepped between Alina and Hunter, and assumed some level of protection between the two. "Please tell me this guy isn’t acting like… all the other guys?”

As her friend took a bold shot of the Patron that Alina had pointed to and asserted herself into the conversation, she smiled. "So far, he's doing all right. He's been doing your job!" she laughed as she pointed at Raven. "But I'm glad you could make it and save me from sailing through this thing by myself." A brief moment of clarity hit her mind. "Oh, Hunter, this is my good friend Raven, aka Ray-Ray. Ray, this is Hunter. He has made up for breaking my beer bottle in more ways than one so far." Speaking of which, that drink could come at any time.