Recent Statuses

2 mos ago
My username was originally Lovely Complex, which is a manga I’ve read many moons ago, then I changed it to a candy. Because #sweetvibez. It’s kinda slooty too, let's be real.
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2 mos ago
2 mos ago
H'okay. Bye-bye. See you never.
2 mos ago
Keep calm and smoke weed everyday.
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2 mos ago
R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me


αвσυт тнє ωяιтєя



𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓵𝔂 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝔁.
I'm a storyteller, with a film background, and I enjoy inspiring those to grow in their craft, while creating a fun experience.
I'm here to have a good time and meet awesome people. So, I hope one day we get to write together.
We can world build, seek thrill, and ship like hell! I promise you, you won't regret it.

𝓜𝔂 𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓮.

Sweetly yours,

𝓟.𝓢. Don't be shy! Connect with me.


G R O U P𝓡𝓹𝓼.

𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓵. 𝓐𝓷𝓲𝓶𝓮.

1 x 1𝓡𝓹𝓼.

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓡𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮
  • From Pencil to Paradise // GDocs // Inactive
  • Puppy Love // GDocs // Inactive

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After spending most, if not all, of her winter break in the bedroom and no, not for sex, but to sulk in self pity, Chrissie McCoy, Miss Primadonna of King's Academy, found herself deeply staring into the mirror and not recognizing the girl she was seeing. Both of her best friends were out of the country, living their best lives, while she binged all the great chick flicks like Pretty Woman, Mean Girls, A Walk to Remember, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, etc, etc.

She was ignoring her parents like the plague, and when they wanted to FaceTime, she created the illusion that she did have plans for the holidays which was her excuse to not go home. By illusion, she would put on a dazzling dress, color coordinate her make up, and pretend she was just about to run out and didn't have time to talk. The moment the call ended, she went straight to her bed and rolled up in her downy blanket to be a burrito for the rest of the night.

Sometimes, she found herself ignoring what was on the TV and scrolling through her social media accounts, vicariously living through her peers, like Santiago and April at their big reveal party, which she hesitated to congratulate them (him). Obviously, she decided against it, only giving him a 'heart', for personal reasons. If it weren't something like that, she went to that prick-of-an-ex-boyfriend's page to judge him and think of ways to destroy him. How could she get even and make him so unfuckable that no woman would want to touch him with a ten foot pole? How could she hurt him so bad and take away everything that brought him joy? How could she... get over him? She was the fool for love, a complete joke to herself, and a total game to him AND his boys. There was no way in hell she'd take that shit lightly.

Her bedroom had exploded and it felt like it was the perfect display of the disarray that was in her heart. Oh woe is me. Chrissie was as dramatic as she was inspirational. Two in one deal. A perfect package, if she'd say so herself. Normally, she was a neat freak, but as of late, she let all her food, clothes, and miscellaneous items, like gifts Jason got her since they started dated, take over and turn her floor into a minefield. There were Polaroid pictures scattered everywhere, of him, with burn marks, rips, tears, and holes from pencil stabs. She wanted to tell herself she was better than this, better than him, but in her own isolation, it wasn't the easiest to overcome, and all she could think about was how much she changed who she was to pleasure him.


Looking in the mirror, she shook her head in disgust, knowing that wasn't the type of girl she was. She was a bitch, who put her interests before anyone else's. Yes, she was good at covering up her venomous poison with a bright, welcoming smile and an intimidating amount of kindness, because the rule of thumb was kill 'em with kindness, but this girl right here? In the mirror? Staring right back at her? Letting a little boy consume her mind and make her lose sight of who she was?

FUCK her.

They say honesty is the best policy, and here she was, letting herself drown in his lies. This was going to stop. Now. No more would she stay in this funk. Her girls would be back before she knew it and she'd never be able to forgive herself if they saw her like this, like a hot mess.

With resolution written in her eyes, she quickly cleaned her room, tossing all the pictures in the garbage. She put his hoodies, and the jewelry he bought her, in a box, out of the way, so she can give it to the less fortunate. When she was satisfied with the cleanliness of her room, she threw on active wear and went straight to the Lambert's gym. While she stretched, she texted her girls separately how much she missed them and how she couldn't wait to hear all about their vacations.

Blasting her Broadway musical playlist, she started getting that pent up aggression out, by forcing herself to vigorously work out. Power up on the bicycle. Double her lifting sets. Beat down the punching bag until her whole body couldn't move any longer. She couldn't leave the gym until her mind turned positive.

What does not kill me, makes me hotter.

Long hours in the gym gave her the ability to move almost without sound, and when people see her, they see a petite teenage girl, but being underestimated and having small lithe limbs only meant if people tried her, she'd put them in their place fast.

She'd be ready for the New Year.

"Just you wait."

Listening to steady hooves and a gentle tail swish, Ryland Aspen led a chestnut coat stallion into a large shed, in which the planks were weathered and made of oak. Today was his last day in the city of angels and he was here, helping his mother groom the horses, while he thought about how he was going to 'grow the fuck up' and 'take responsibility' for his actions. With one semester left at Beverly Hills High, his father came to the decision that the most logical option to help his second son and prevent him from causing anymore anarchy was to pull him out of his current school and give the hellraiser a clean slate, a fresh start, in Crown Heights with his aunt.

Did his old man honestly think he could close this book and start a new one just like that? Pretend that he didn't have many counts against him that could throw him into Juvie? Or worst, prison? If he wasn't one of his father's legacies and his older brother's shadow, would he be as lucky? For his fortunate upbringing, he could put it all behind him, but the chances of him doing so were... unlikely. Nothing he would ever do was going to be good enough, so there was no reason to try. Did his family truly, deeply think transferring him to a new school was going to help him? Did they honestly think he could become a better person by simply uprooting his life and making him fly across America?

Press X to Doubt.

Stopping in his tracks, right beside a deep golden hue of old straw, when the horse he was leading nudged his head, Ryland turned his body to stare into her gentle eyes. Autumn was her name. She was one of his favorites, with a heart made of love, a slender profile, and such awareness to the the storm that harbored inside his soul. His heart beat steadied and for a moment or two things became still.



Then and only then was when the sound of his mother's voice, as warm as early spring, cautiously slipped into his peace. His mother usually knew just the right time to speak to him, when the noise of the world became radio static and he briefly gained control of the raging energy inside him. The boy now unburdened found himself matching his breaths with the Beauty before him. Closing his eyes to the world and its troubles, he leaned his forehead against his horse and listened to Alaina, whose French accent was a pleasure to listen to, thanks to the rhythm of her delivery. She, who was dedicated to perfect her speech even if she struggled to stress some words, tried to give his lonely heart some compassion, hoping to end his holiday break with encouragement, instead of resentment, "I know you're bitter, mon loup." Gliding beside him, she tenderly gazed at her son not by birth but by bond and rested her head on his sturdy shoulder, "But think of this as... a stepping-stone. Not your destination. Learn something new. Find reasons to smile and enjoy your youth. Be there, for your friends. For your aunt. For yourself. But most importantly, try to forgive your past. And I promise you, my Ryland, it'll be worth the effort in the end."

This woman saw far more good in him than he saw in himself. This was one part of her he would never understand. She spends most of her life helping others get over their trauma and insecurities, she dedicates her purpose mending the hurt, the scared, and the vulnerable, and the rest of her time? Rather than take care of herself, or even his little brother, Phoenix, she was checking up on him.

At times, Ryland wondered if he was more of a project to her than her child. A project that takes the rest of her time and energy outside of work. It was hard for him to believe he deserved this kind of empathy and tolerance, yet here she was, offering him comfort just like she did yesterday after he blew up at the dinner table, breaking her special holiday plates, causing his father to give him choice words and an equal display of rage, which was rare for the old man.

Unable to respond, he allowed the silence to take over and for them to share it with no interruptions. They stood there, in front of Autumn, being there. In the present moment. When he opened his eyes, ready to respond, he realized he was no longer at the stable, but in front of the green door that belonged to his Aunt Bennett’s humble abode.

Time had passed like a blur and it was already the following day...

Before knocking on the door with his knuckles, he looked over his shoulder, while carrying two large duffel bags, at the neighborhood behind him. Seemingly welcoming and still in the period of idleness that the holidays never failed to bring, where local businesses were closed, no one made doctor appointments, and some families were completely gone entirely, traveling to those they considered worth loving. He was here and he didn't know how to feel about it. Countless times he's visited for vacation, but this time felt different and he couldn't help but be frustrated at not knowing the answers to the questions coursing through his mind.

As a G-wagon went down the street, he turned his head back to the door and huffed a long strand of hair out of his face. No longer wanting to waste his time staring off toward the middle distance, he firmly knocked and loudly projected, "Aunt B, you there?"

"The doors unlocked, Riri!" Her bright, modulated, and feminine voice chimed in from rooms over, most likely in the kitchen preparing him something to eat. His father had paid for van service to transport his son from the airport to Crown Heights, to not put too much on his little sister. Ryland knew the moment he stepped into her house Miley Bennett would want to play 'catch up and ask my nephew a million and one questions' so he had to make sure he could distract her and then run off to surprise his friends, who should be in the area, not away, but he could be wrong.

Guess he could text them, or not.

"Okay." Here goes nothing.

Cheers to the start of a new book, not chapter: The beginning of the end.

Happy New Year, to me.


Standing in front of her body mirror, Reina gazed at her thin frame. Turning herself to the side, her earthy hued eyes fell on her statement, emerald colored heels. These were one of her more expensive items that she decided to bring with her — Badgley Mischka, green satin, 'Kiara' crystal back open toe pump. Truly, eye catching. With them, her ensemble was given both a hint of femininity and a hint of class. Under her white jacket peeked a lace bralette, and for someone who was known for sex, booze, & rock 'n' roll, she had the sensual sophistication look down pat.

The last time she wore these shoes were at a Q&A at StokerCon UK, this past April. Other than that? She rarely wore these pumps. She didn't know why she felt inclined to bring them to a reunion with mostly strangers, but something told her to pack them. Maybe, inadvertently, she wanted to make a good impression on the hostess, who never did like her, even if they shared a best friend, or maybe, she aimed to show her peers how much she changed over the years. Mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. A statement that displayed a renewal within her, that encourages growth, reflection, and healing.

Checking her wrist watch, Reina Stein Barracano, the only known filmmaker of her year, heavily sighed to herself. It's show time. Walking to her dresser, she peered down at her left hand with her wedding band on her ring finger. Hesitant, she reached for her phone and checked her messages and notifications. None from him. The last message that was sent was when she told him she arrived in FL. Licking the bottom of her lip, she opened up her Instagram and checked the first couple stories, one being his. Momentarily, her dark eyes reflected that of charcoal clouds. Cold, dark, and fierce. With the sight she saw, she rolled her eyes. She should've expected that. Once she clicked her phone off, Rei placed it face down on her dresser and made a conscious decision to forget about it.

Part of her charm was her full transparency and that included the fact that she was married. Unconventional and open, still married. Keeping her ring on, she turned to the chair by her bed that held a large bag and a photo album. Ah, yes. Gifts. She spent the past week going through her old memory card, finding photos of her class that didn't make the yearbook but were still worth seeing and perhaps, they'd appreciate the moments she captured of them. The good she saw in each individual including those that she disagreed with.

On top of her going out of her way to print her favorite, candid shots, she took the time to utilize her friend back in LA to help her make wood carved picture frames. They didn't have a picture in them yet, since she wanted to feel out the atmosphere and consider what picture would be best for each of them. Ideally, by the end of this reunion, they would all be given a picture and a frame from her. Until then, it was her job to get re-acquainted with the class of 2009.

After strolling to the chair, she pulled out the photo album and sat on the side of her bed. With intention, she opened the book and flipped through pages, having seen these pictures countless times. When she came to a full stop, she rested her eyes on the single photo of her and her ex. Just them. A selfie she took with her big ass canon camera. Somehow, she made it work but it was the least professional and least appealing picture of the lot. Most likely because it was completely authentic and she was smiling.

Resting her french manicure nails on the image, her gaze softened. She didn't know how she'd react when she'd see him and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't nervous... but, it's been a long time since she's seen his face. She was intrigued. Anxious and curious all at the same time. Though, her stomach was doing somersaults and her headache from her hangover was finally gone, she believed this would be the change of pace she needed. A place for her to slow down and take a break.

For the most part, she considers herself sociable, especially during networking events and film screenings. That being said, it's been awhile since she was involved in an environment that could bring up emotions of her past. It's been awhile since she looked at her mirrored image and considered her reflection. It's been awhile since she thought about... King's Academy and the people that came with it. It's been awhile.

At least right now, she believed she was ready for it and that she could handle it.

Of course, she had no idea.

The party was in full swing and because she got distracted, with the photo album, as if she didn't look at these pictures all week, Reina was fashionably late. Not making much of a grand entrance, aside form looking elegantly welcoming, unlike her younger self which was more 'fun' and 'wild', Rei was quick to find Tessa and shortly after, Allison. Both right next to each other. Her best friend and her close friend, since forever.

As she stood by the back entrance, from a distance, she saw a muscular man and Amanda walking off together. It looked kind of awkward around the bar. Feeling the tension of whatever-just-happened a mile away, she decided to slowly make her way to her girl, in hopes by the time she reached Tessa, whatever that transpired, no longer lingered in the air.

Not shortly after the hostess walked off with someone that looked familiar to her but, unfortunately, she couldn't put a name to the face, her eyes went from Willow scurrying to Grace to Jace walking with prideful strides to those that seemed like lovebirds. One being his ex, the class prez. It made sense Amanda was drawing attention. She usually did.

With her own, stylized swagger, a sort of free-style motion that showcased how comfortable she was in her own skin, and the fact that there was music in her soul, Reina sauntered to the party, trying to decide who she should say hi to first.

“If this reunion is going to be anything like tonight, I might as well just take this time to repack my stuff and get out of here.”

Gingerly parking herself by the King's Men table, or well some of them, she recognized that voice as Brent Walsh's. One person she'd definitely need to give closure to, later or now. She hadn't decided yet. One regret she had was taking out her damage on him, many years ago. She didn't know how much of it still resonated with him and honestly, she hoped he had forgotten. But, she would never know unless she talked to him and tried to mend the bridge she tried to hastily burn down.

Taking a step beside... Dre, wow. He didn't age, at all. Her eyes went from him, to... Adam? Alan? Alex? Aaron? Who she barely knew honestly, then to Brent, who... definitely grew into himself. It's impressive what puberty could do. Coolly, she rested her hand on Brent's chair, definitely within his personal space, and smiled, "Aw, lighten up. There's free booze, salsa music, and a pool waiting to be jumped in. Don't waste a good time because you can't have a picture perfect reunion with your boys."

Pausing, she turned to face him, that radiant confidence glowing right off of her like it did many years ago, "You look good, Brent. I'm impressed." Blissfully outgoing, her nerves buried behind her focus on brightening up the party, she turned to the other nearby King's Men and laughed, "You all do. Goddamn heartbreakers over here."

Retracting her hand from his chair, she crossed her arms and eyed them, "Alright, so... here's an idea. Here me out, okay? Why don't we stop people watching and have a good time? Those two girls over there could really use some of your... charms." Her eyes were fixated on Dre, which was her way of saying 'why are you wasting this opportunity when you can talk to Grace'. Her intense glare went from one man to another, Alex, who she signaled toward Willow. That one had less meaning since she wasn't close to either Alex or Willow. But hey, Willow seemed sad and he should do something about that. At least in her opinion. Why not? What else was he going to do? Stare?

"As for you, wanna' dance?" If there's one way she could explain her past trauma to someone she broke, while staying happy, it was through dancing. Who doesn't love dancing?

Reina offered her hand for Brent to grab.


Why... why was he wasting his time?

The time spent here was going to be three days. Nothing more, nothing less. Why was he acting out of character for people who would try to forget his face the second they leave the island? This wasn't him. Ten years ago, he was young, dumb, and dealt with demons that none of these self-adsorbed women could ever fathom. If they wanted to forever remember him as that asshole, that's on them. They have a choice on how they were going to enjoy this reunion and if this is how they wanted things, sulking over the past, that's on them.

Not him.

But this cowardice and pathetic plea for forgiveness? This poor attempt to pretend he cared, when he left his highschool days behind, the moment his parents were brutally murdered? Who the fuck was he trying to be? Not someone his old man would be proud about. Grayson could already imagine his father throwing him across the room, while his sister watched and his mother did nothing, telling him that 'no son of mine would be such a goddamn pussy'.

All for what? So they can get over their petty bullshit for someone they didn't even know? Someone they supposedly could careless about? Someone they barely even knew back then?


Fuck them.

He couldn't even appreciate the fact that Amanda was now standing next to him and what she was wearing. He couldn't take in the scent of her perfume or feel the threatening, silent menace protruding from her very presence. For as long as it has been and as much as he was known to be so incredibly infatuated by this immaculate creature, he found himself staring at his booze, gritting his teeth. That obsession that was such a problem years ago seemed non-existent while he internalized his feelings of being the most hated person at this reunion. There was no doubt in his mind that she, out of all people, would not tolerate these kind unpleasantries. Especially at her event.

Lifting his finger up in the air, to motion to Amanda that he would handle this in the most forward way possible, he glanced up from his glass and admitted with no remorse, "No, not at all."

"You are right though." He affirmed both Amanda's and Willow's words, all in one statement. His brown eyes gradually going from one face to the other. One clearly meant what she said, the other he could feel her spite a mile away. His gaze lingered on Amanda, whose attention and eyes were on him. "We are grown adults. At least some of us." He purposely referenced what Willow expressed, before darting his focus right back to the women he tried to extend an olive branch to.

Tapping the bar with his hand, he gestured to Rudy, "I'll have what she's having." he nodded his head toward Tessa, before continuing, "To be frank, I don’t give a damn if any of you give me ‘sunshine’. I have that already, with my daughter." His life didn't revolve around them and this mini vacation that Amanda worked hard to put together so her class could get away from the stresses of their daily lives — why would he act like it did?

If they wanted sincerity, he was going to give it to them.

Right now.

Originally, he thought a peace treaty could help, but it's been so long that no matter what he said or did, it would never feel sincere because to him, they were nothing. Where were they during the trial? The longest year of his life that may be the only year he chose to forget. They didn't support him when Jason and Elizabeth died, they didn't cheer him on when he battled the urge to quit his job on numerous occasions, and they sure as hell weren't there when he had to tell Millie her parents were dead.

They were nothing.

"Allison, you might've been one of the few I could act semi-normal with, up until you reminded me of something that hit a little close to home," The bartender with swift ease and absolute silence, ignoring the tension, placed the glasses in front of the detective and poured his order. "And Tara, I'm glad you've gained a calmer spirit. I hope you've also learned to not pick your friend up after every fall." First shot. Grayson rolled his eyes, relieved he came to terms with this now rather than the end of the reunion. He would've spent all his time chasing women that didn't want to be chased. For what?

All eyes were on him because for some reason they weren't over him, like highschool was only yesterday and they were sixteen going on seventeen. "I fucked up." Shrugging, his dark stare decided to rest on Willow's soft face for the remainder of his spiel. "The end. You're doing yourself a disservice by allowing this image you have of me affect your day." And her once-upon-a-time friendship with Alex.

After exasperatedly sighing, he smiled with no malicious intent. His smile was one of happiness growing and realizing he didn't need to bother with individuals that didn't escape their childhood. Women that lacked the guile and complexity of those that deserved his time, attention, and energy. Another shot. Down it went. Grayson decided this conversation was over: "I didn’t travel all this way to pretend to have a good time."

With harsh weather in his eyes and a strong resolution, Grayson grabbed the last shot and lifted it up, as if he was going to give a cheer but instead, he simply decreed, "I’m going to." Once he shot it down his throat, he slammed it on the counter and dismissed himself, grabbing his whiskey with him, "Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies.”

Before he walked away, he offered his arm for Amanda to grab, ready to have his first real conversation with his highschool crush, "Care to join me?"

To his surprise, the blonde's face lit up with a warm smile. “"Oh, absolutely," she responded without hesitation, taking the arm that was so graciously offered to her.

No more words left to say, he shook his head in disappointment, baffled at the obvious truth that he felt sorry for his classmates. With whiskey at one side, and Amanda on the other, he strode off, deciding to take the hostess closer to the deep blue waters, where they both could stare out at the scenic view and get to know one another.

Something he wouldn't have had the courage to do, a decade ago.


Standing in front of Amanda's door, Grayson debated knocking on it and asking if she'd like an escort. Inhaling and exhaling, and repeat, he brought his knuckles inches away from the wood. He was really doing this, wasn't he? He was finally going to have a conversation with the immaculate beauty from his teenage dreams. After nodding, reassuring himself that this was the right decision, he went for a gentle tap, only to freeze when he heard her scream on the other side. The sudden unpleasantries coming out of her mouth caused him to retract his fist and be forcibly brought back to his present reality where a door was in between him and her.

Something usually was in between him and her.

Yeah, maybe not.

The best course of action was to wait for his chance to talk to her at the cocktail party. She didn't know him. Not really. The likelihood of her wanting him, out of all people, as her escort was slim to none. In all honesty, it was probably not even an option. She may not remember his name. They were mere acquaintances in high school and now they were complete strangers to one another, with nothing but faded memories.

Even so... the desire was still there. That old feeling where the fantastical illusion he had of her wanting him made his chest ache at the unbelievable prospects. It was hard to believe that he still found himself holding her up on a high pedestal. Then again, here he was staring at her door like an idiot.

God, he was such an idiot.

As he walked away, prominently striding outside where the others were inevitably waiting, he decided right then and there that he WOULD talk to her. Before the night was through, he would approach her and have a conversation that would captivate and intrigue her. With determination, diligence, and dedication he would survive the night. Not only with her, but also with everyone else. Though, especially with her.

What? Priorities, man.

By the backdoor, Grayson looked ahead at those who were already there. First, his dark gaze went to Jace, sitting by his lonesome self. He watched the sorry (but good looking) dude and wondered why did he hate him so much? Ten years ago he could barely look at him without wishing death upon him and his future children. Watching him now, he felt guilty. Guilty treating him the way he did without coming clean. Jace had a taste of the one person Grayson wanted but couldn't have. That wasn't Jace's fault. It was his own for giving up, not bothering to even try.

It was peculiar, really. His whole journey back to FL he thought seeing this man would annoy the living shit out of him, like all that spite and malice he had for him when they were younger, going the extra mile of destroying Jace's face in his yearbook, would still be there like his crush for Amanda. Yet, it wasn't. At least, right now, he didn't have it in him to hate someone that he could've been good friends with.

His attention went from Jace to the three girls at the bar. There was Willow, who was dressed like a showstopper, with a prepossessing... blue dress on. As he rolled his cuffs up (he left his jackets behind), internally he frowned. If anyone deserved an apology, it was definitely her. He used her and her feelings for him. Made her feel like yesterday's trash. There was no denying he was an asshole and he'd be lucky if she could even look at him again.

His stare went from her to Allison, who was styling pretty in pink. Wow, these girls were really outdoing themselves tonight. Granted, Amanda did hold them all to a dress code, and therefore there was a standard they all had to meet. Scratching his head, he recalled his foolish, insensitive teen self, when he tried to force her to stop taking Addie. Rather than express his legitimate concerns, he caused her to feel insignificant and took the one thing she clung to away from her. He insulted her intelligence and said something dumb like, if you're really that smart you wouldn't need these stupid ass pills.

That's one of the few memories he purposely tried to block out. He could handle the prom incident, although that may be subjectively worse, he couldn't handle the fact that he teared his close friend down when she needed him the most. This had nothing to do with love. This had everything to do with trust and friendship. He fucked that up royally.

Rerouting his mind, he turned his head to the last person who arrived before the crowd. As if time stopped, his eyes, which were the softest brown infused with green, a charming melt of autumn tones, fell on... Tara.

Wait, that's Tara?

Well damn. Green looked good on her. Very good. His rational brain turned off when an incomprehensible feeling stretched throughout his whole body. The way she was holding herself arouse his curiosity and he didn't know what to think. She just looked... she surprised him, is all.

Letting his feet take charge, he first went to Jace and lightly slapped the table, "Hey man, good to see you." His heart was racing, knowing for a fact that he was nothing like this when they were younger, "You should come join me at the bar," He stepped back when a waiter maneuvered around Gray to place Jace's food in front of him, "...If not, that's fine. We can chat later. Actually talk for once, since y'know, I was a dick and our friends don't deserve that bull." The detective ran his hand through his hair, wondering if he was coming off too strong, too desperate, or actually doing this 'mending' thing right.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he looked back at the bar, "Anyways, I need to do my rounds, but yeah. We'll talk." A conversation with Jace could go well, or terribly wrong, but while Gray had the chance, he wasn't going to lose this opportunity to talk to the others either. Kill all the birds with one stone.

With silent steps, he approached the bar and parked himself at the end of it, giving all three of them enough space from him, so maybe, just maybe they wouldn't leave. Maybe, just maybe, they'd hear him out. Leaving the stools open for anyone else that wanted to sit in them, he rubbed his goatee. "...Rudy, is it?" He read the name tag, making sure to filter out all the small details and critical observations that were overflowing in his mind. "I'll take a jack and coke." The bartender nodded, immediately pulling out a whiskey glass. While he started on Grayson's drink, the brute of a man took out his wallet and dropped a twenty in the tip jar. Knowing him, he'd keep filling it up as the night went on.

Accepting the burden of breaking the ice, he drummed his fingers on the counter, showing a hint of his anxiousness as he mustered the courage to talk to all three of them at once. Clearing his throat to grab their attention, his cheeks dimpled, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled, he gave a casual compliment "Ladies, you all look lovely tonight." Not too focused and weird. Normal chit-chat.

The bartender slid the glass down the counter. Instinctively, Gray caught it, took a nervous sip, and added, "Before any of you walk away, I do want a chance to apologize. I don't expect us to talk this weekend. You can ignore me, that's fine. I deserve it. I just wanted to finally get this off my chest and say: I'm sorry. And hey, if you want to throw insults at me, tell me how stupid I was, punch me in the face--" He chuckled to himself as he locked eyes with Tara.

"I can handle it."
@Hey Im Jordan@Altered Tundra done. retiring from sheet making. goodbye lol.

@Hey Im Jordan@Altered Tundra 1 out of 2. Her list of abilities are descriptive because I was referring to Laura and Wolverine, while also changing some things up to make her own brand.

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