Realistic or Modern hollywood arts: main (open!!)

[Winona]

Ashton West

She was shaking, although she wasn't really for sure on why she was like shaking, because it wasn't like near the end that her mother had been paying her any attention. All of her harsh words had instead been directed at Lucky, who she apparently knew way too freaking much about, and now it was like... it was like... she couldn't breathe, her chest was squeezing, and her throat hurt, and the oxygen was being snatched from her lungs.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Why was Lucky still like talking to her and acknowledging her? Because like, like, like, this wasn't what was supposed to happen after something like that. He was supposed to storm away, and then she'd be left with her mother, and then her mother would make some snide remark about Ash not being able to keep anyone around, and then she'd be like upset or whatever, but it was fine because she was used to it.

But instead, Lucky was still holding her hand, and she knew that she should probably let go of his hand because this was going to look weird as heck to anyone that saw them, and like if the tabloids or whatever got a picture of it, then there'd be all of that and her mother would be even more pissed. And yet, like, she couldn't bring herself to pull her hand away, because holding onto his hand kind of felt like a lifeline, because Ash was pretty sure that if she let go, she wouldn't be able to keep walking. Like she'd just kind of sink down or something.

Like she felt numb. And her free hand was still shaking, so she pressed it against her stomach, but that didn't really help anything, and oh god, oh god, she was going to puke.

Eventually, Lucky led them to like a little alcove area that was kind of off from the main traffic, so there wasn't really anyone around. It was like as secluded and alone as you could get in a busy theater that was full of all of the students and their parents and scouts and whoever else.

So she figured that he'd pretty much just dragged her here so that he could yell at her for her mom being a bitch, and her lungs squeezed up, and her stomach clenched. He glanced down at their hands still held together, and then when he lifted his gaze to look at her, she instinctively flinched.

“You good?” He asked instead. “I mean, are you okay?”

Her muscles, which had tensed in preparation for him to yell at her or whatever, relaxed a fraction as she reluctantly looked back towards him. Her eyebrows had drawn together in confusion, her lips slightly parted as she tried to come up with something to say, because like, like, like...

This didn't make sense.

Of course she was fine. Why wouldn't she be fine? Her mother had attacked him, not her, and yet here Lucky was, asking her if she was okay, and now she just felt that same creeping feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach. Just like the one from earlier in the dressing room.

For a moment, Ash didn't respond, and then when she did start speaking, it all kind of just poured out in a nonsensical fashion.

"Yeah, yeah, of course I'm fine," she said, dismissing his questions and his worries right away. "Are you? I mean, like... I'm just... I'm so, so, so sorry. I didn't think she'd do like that. Like I didn't even tell her that we were doing the song together, and I didn't know that Jace even knew, and I didn't know that she'd do that. And like if I had known, I would've made sure you didn't see her, but I didn't think she'd say anything. And I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I should've said something, or like, like, like, done something, but I just... I just... I didn't know what to do or like what to say, but that's just a dumb excuse. And I'm just... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she continued to ramble, her words catching in her throat and choking her for a moment.

Ash pulled her hand away from his, her arms crossed over her stomach as she tried to steady her breathing and like, keep herself from crying because she wasn't an overemotional mess or whatever it was that everyone thought. But she felt really, really bad, and the guilt was killing her, and she was pretty sure she was going to die if she didn't freaking cry, but she also couldn't let herself cry, and-- and-- and--

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she repeated again. "I didn't... I didn't mean for any of that to happen and I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad. I didn't think, I didn't..." her words caught in her throat again, and she just shook her head.

She couldn't breathe.

"I'm so sorry, like, you can... you can go. If you want or whatever. I... I mean, like, I get it. It's fine."

And before she could utter a million more apologies, she pressed her lips tightly together.

mood
help

location
Arts Fest stage

outfit
sparkles

playing...
Drowning

by Ash and Lucky obviously​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Lucky

tags
gh0stwriter

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

Luciana was a perfectionist, there was no reason in hiding that. Even a control freak if she cared to say; she needed everything to go according to how she had it planned there was no room for mistakes nor she was going to allow herself to have any. Because for Luciana, everything needed to be impeccable or nothing. She wasn't going to give her father the privilege of telling her how miserable her costume designs were and the failure that she was as his child. No, she wasn't going to let him win this time on his little mind games.

Well, it was easier to think it than actually believe it because Luciana knew what kind of man was Marcos Navarro Garrido; he would find even the smallest mistake in Luciana's presentation and he would make it clear that she wasn't perfect, that she didn't have any talent and that she was just a disgrace to the family, while her mother just agreed like the puppet that she was, fucking disgusting. The only people that would be "proud" of her would be her brothers, but let's be honest if Luciana was being a mess at that moment her brothers were for sure an even bigger mess, such an enviable family they were.

Because in reality, this was just a publicity scheme because who wouldn't want to see the loving family supporting the youngest daughter at her Arts Festival on the front row, the pictures that would make it to one of those socialite magazines back in Mexico. To brag about their status, and their Tequila Company. And yes, Luciana was the least important person in this situation.

But she couldn't let all those things bother her, she wasn't going to let anyone see that she was on the edge of a crisis. Because Luciana wasn't like that, she had her game face on and made sure to show that she was in control that she had this kind of superiority over everyone else, no one was going to mess up with her and the perfect wall that she had built around her no one was going to break her she was going to succeed no matter what.

Focusing on the last details of her costumes was her priority, she wasn't interested in hearing someone sing a stupid song about their ex or just see a painting with a splash of paint and call it art because it was deep, she wasn't in the mood to be wasting nor she wanted anyone to interrupt her, but life was a bitch and right now was testing her patience as her phone started ringing now who was the asshole that thought that it was a good idea to call her in the middle of her final preparations.

Great it was Jared Fucking Darrington; Luciana knew even before she even answered the call that he wasn't just calling to wish her good luck, that would for sure be the last thing that Jared would do because even if they were extremely close to being considered friends and their relationship was more as acquaintances leaning more towards work colleagues, she knew perfectly that Jared saw things just like her, in a business way where you surround yourself from people that eventually would help you sooner or later.

Sure, there were people that Luciana trusted and really considered friends, but outside of her select group her way of treating everyone was following the old keep your friends close but your enemies closer, not that she saw someone as her threat, but if they were someone that she knew she could get something it was better to have them on your side, everything was all about connections and Jared was indeed someone that you didn't want to have as an enemy, because Luciana could guarantee that owning a favor to Jarred it was almost as if you owe one to the devil.

If it wasn't for that stupid kid that got sick and had to find a last-minute replacement; a replacement that ended up being Jared she wouldn't be involved in whatever shenanigan that Jared was about to ask her to do.

"Hey, Luc? It's Jared. I'm gonna have to ask to cash in that favor of mine, you free enough to swing by right now? With a sewing kit." Jared said through the phone as Luciana pinched her septum in annoyance. Just because she was involved in the creation part it didn't mean she was a fucking seamstress she was ready to decline but then remember "He is a good connection, is better to keep him on your good side, you will never know when you are going to need him" she thought to herself, so she swallowed her pride as she replied to the guy "Sure, I have some time right now. I'll be there in a moment I just need to organize my things"

"Maldito hijo de puta" she said as she let out an annoyed sigh after she ended the call, she grabbed her sewing kit one that she thought would be only using on an emergency for her own costumes and not for someone else project. She headed to where Jared his brand was going to be presented and saw the guy that looked everything less than happy "I came as soon as I could. What's the emergency?" She said as she put her perfect facade one that didn't show that she was bothered by it, she just needed to see it from a business perspective.

Location: Arts Festival | Mood: annoyed
Outift: Here | Interactions: Jared ( Kitsune2202 )

Luciana Navarro Berrocal

Code by Stardust Galaxy​

 

[Soap]

Juliette Jameson
"Just remember I’m the one with the spotlight above me.”

@QueenJules has set their status to:
When you see me on stage, just know I’m judging you there too.

@QueenJules has set their outfit to:
A Gorgeous costume, custom made. Obvi.

@QueenJules has interacted with:
Ava

@QueenJules has mentioned:
Dorian

@QueenJules has tagged:
Winona​

Ava had continued to try and fumble with the straps of her outfit but she barely had made any progress and was back to square one.

“I have liked people,” Ava snapped, JJ didn’t react much. She rolled her eyes and turned her head towards her with a look.

A look that said:

“Bullshit.”

There was absolutely no way that Ava had liked anyone because Jules would’ve known about it. Ava was literally the only one of her friends (The only person JJ even considers a friend anyway) that she didn’t try to set up. Well, not set up— but pry and ask why the hell wasn’t she dating or making a move to, or at the very least, sleep with someone.

“You haven’t liked anyone since the first grade, and I don’t even think that was a crush, just a really weird fascination of this one whore who ate bugs. If you would’ve liked someone? I would know.”

But Ava wasn’t really that kind of person so it was whatever. If anything it was better off Ava wanted to end up depressed and alone, that way she wouldn’t have to deal with all the stress of relationships.

"You don't... you don't want him telling you what to wear. You'd flip the fuck out, and then there would be this huge fight between you two, and then I'd be the one you'd come crying to."

JJ’s features flickered between confusion and realization, but she was quick to reply.

“Shut up. I don’t fucking come crying to you. I’m just saying it’s—“

“Whatever, okay? You don’t get it. You’ve never even been in a relationship before. All you know fucking know about relationships is how to shit on mine.”

JJ wasn’t entirely wrong.

In fact, she wasn’t wrong at all.

Every time Juliette had a crush on someone, a date to get ready for, or a measly hookup (which, she never does because that’s literally disgusting.) Ava always had something negative to say. Always.

There was never a second were Jules would be able to gush about whoever the fuck without Ava getting all pissy and blaming everything on JJ’s horrible taste in guys.

The fact that she didn’t say anything the night she got together with Dorian was a godsend. Clearly something was in Ava’s blood punch or whatever the fuck, but that’s the best friend JJ wanted.

Sup-fucking-portive.

“You know what?” JJ shook her head, crossing her arms and taking a few steps away from Ava.

“I won’t come ‘crying’ to you anymore.” She said with a gesture forward of both her hands.

Nonchalantly shrugging, the brunette continued.

“From now on, whatever the fuck happens with me and my boyfriend, you’ll be the last to hear about it.” Jules turned away from her and started to loosen, and tighten the straps as necessary.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Jace West

Of course he'd figured that the desperate plea for Mike to leave him the heck alone was going to be just that -- a desperate plea that would remain unheeded, so no, Jace wasn't surprised when Mike didn't leave. When instead, Mike walked towards him, and sent his foot into the back of Jace's knee and sent the skinny senior stumbling and falling into the vanity. His hands caught on the table, and he pushed himself back into a standing position.

Mike was attacking him. Making fun of him. He could hear it -- obviously -- but Jace was doing his best to just ignore it. He had his performance coming up, and he didn't want anything to distract him. Least of all Mike's words and insults, but it was hard to try and ignore it as he tried to stop the blood from rushing down his face.

At some point, his pale gaze stopped focusing on his reflection in the mirror, and it stopped focusing all together, and his vision went a little blurry. He still held the damp tissues to his nose, although by now, the blood had started to seep through and saturate the entire bunch -- not that Jace was aware of the spreading feeling of warm blood across his fingers, and not that he was aware that he needed to change out the tissues.

He wasn't really aware of anything. Mike was speaking, but it was like he was competing with the roaring in Jace's ears. Like someone had come by and stuffed his ears full of cotton, so everything sounded faded and far away. Like it wasn't him experiencing this, because Jace didn't truly feel there. He could faintly feel the tingling in the tips of his fingers, and the throbbing of his nose, but the rest of him just... felt... so... numb.

Jace didn't really register much of anything until Mike grabbed and jerked him around to face him, and grabbed Kleenex to press against Jace's nose because... he... honestly, Jace didn't understand this part of the interaction. And although he had a couple of inches on Mike, the shaking of his knees, and the general way that he tended to slouch whenever he was doing... well... basically anything meant that he was nearly at Mike's height.

More threats.

Dead meat.

Yeah, Jace got it.

Again, it wasn't anything new coming from Mike's mouth.

Everything else felt like it happened both in slow motion, and all at once.

Mike let go. The bloody tissues fell to the ground. Mike aggressively wiped blood that had stained his fingers against Jace's cheek, and Jace instinctively flinched away. And then Mike was throwing a bottle of cologne onto the floor and again, Jace flinched, but then he just stared numbly down at the shattered glass as Mike left the room -- following a few more insults, a few more you'll never be as good as your little sister comments.

Jace stared at the glass.

The smell of cologne started to permeate the room and Jace, instead of dealing with it, instead reached for his guitar case and opened it up. He pulled out his guitar, pulling the strap on over his head, and then he walked out of the dressing room, stepping over the bits of shattered glass like they weren't there.

His steps took him out of the dressing room, and then he remembered the whole blood thing, so he located the nearest bathroom and stopped there. After a few minutes of washing the blood from his hands and his face, and getting the nosebleed to actually stop, Jace was as ready as he'd ever be for the performance. Of course, he took a moment to look at his reflection in the mirror and the beautiful bruise that was starting to form across his nose.

Great.

He stepped back out of the bathroom, and he headed up to the stage. His heart was pounding in his chest, and then it was pounding in his throat, and his chest was starting to ache, and Jace was kind of wondering if he was going to have a heart attack right here backstage at the young age of eighteen but--

No, no.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jace headed up to wait for his turn.

-----------------​

His performance had gone well.

Jace was proud of it -- proud enough of it. Thanks to the whole nosebleed thing, his voice hadn't been quite as strong as it normally was, but he hadn't missed a single note. He'd gone out there and done what he'd set out to do, which was sing his little song, and now he'd just come out from the backstage area and he was waiting.

Waiting for his parents, because he knew his mom would've seen his performance.

And Jace had been proud of it -- and Jace had thought that the song was pretty good, so he was excited to see what she said. There was this little like... little spark of hope in the pit of his stomach that was thinking she was going to tell him just how good it was. She'd rave over how that had been his best performance ever, and how proud she was, and then his dad would say the same thing, and it'd be great.

Yeah. His dad would be all "Jace that was amazing, I'm sorry I never understood your love of music before now, but I'm so glad you spent all those hours in your room playing with your instruments instead of playing football like I always wanted you to. I'm so proud of you."

And his mom would be all "wow Jace, I'm so proud! You were so much better than Ash, and I'm sorry that I ever told you that all that money I spent on your musical education was a waste because obviously it wasn't! You were so amazing! I'm sorry that I ever doubted you."

The little spark of hope turned into a steady of flame as he kept dreaming about all of this... and then he saw his parents, and he watched, patiently waiting with his heart pounding in his chest, as they approached him.

As usual, his father just gave a nod of his head in Jace's direction and then started admiring the decorations on the wall or something. Jace and Steve's relationship had always been... strained, to say the least. They'd never been close, making Jace's reliance on his mother -- as in, the only parent that understood him -- even stronger.

So he turned pale blue eyes onto his mom, a hopeful look in his eyes as he did so.

"Jace..."

Here it came, here it came.

"I'm so proud of you," would be the next words out of her mouth.

"That was..."

There was a timid smile on his face. Jace was hanging on every single word out of her mouth, waiting for the praise and the compliments he so desperately craved from his mother.

"Terrible."

His smile fell and his shoulders slouched down.

"You missed a couple notes, your performance wasn't a performance. It was you playing a guitar and singing to a crowd, Jace. Honestly I would expect better from you at this point. And that song..." Elise let out a disappointed sigh. "Jace, those are not the kind of songs that make you a star. What were the lyrics even about? You know your sister might be a bitch to me, but at least she listens to me where it counts. Did you see what she did?"

Jace shook his head.

"Of course you didn't. Well, her song was childish, her partner is disrespectful and isn't going to help further her career whatsoever, but at least she actually put on a performance. It was something interesting, something that people wanted to watch. I saw at least ten people get up and walk out in the middle of your song because they didn't want to sit for the three minutes that it'd take for you to get through that boring, boring display you called a performance. Do you know what I'm going to have to do to make sure that you pass again? Because there's no way you would receive anything but a failing grade for that... that... Jace I don't even have words for how disappointed I am."

At some point, he stopped listening.

His mother kept going, of course.

He didn't start listening again until she started mentioning the dinner.

"The Harlows were kind enough to invite us to dinner with them and the Darringtons tomorrow, especially after that ridiculous display that you put on that got Dorian into trouble. You're going to apologize to both Mr. and Mrs. Harlow tomorrow for the trouble that you caused, alright? And I don't want to see any of that again. I don't know what's gotten into you, Jace, but this..." she reached forward, a cold finger tapping against his bruised nose, and Jace winced. "What did you do to deserve it this time?" But before Jace could speak, Elise held up a hand. "I don't want to know. I don't care. Stop."

She dropped her hand back down, letting out a sigh. "Your father and I are going to go watch some other performances. We'll see you tomorrow, and make sure you bring Stassi."

Right.

Because Jace had kind of forgotten to tell his parents that they'd broken up.

Like how he'd never told them that he was gay.

...

Well.

After his parents walked away, Jace wasn't really sure what to do with himself. He glanced around a bit, but of course all he saw were unfamiliar faces, so he headed out.

He walked until he found the nearest door that led outside, and he stepped out into the fresh air of Los Angeles, and he paused... glancing around... debating on what to do...

But he didn't really know what to do, so Jace just sat down on the top step of the stairs outside the door, and he tapped his fingers against his knees, and he stared down at the cracked concrete in front of him, and he kind of just thought about everything and nothing all at once.

You'd think that by eighteen years of age, Jace would've gotten used to disappointing everyone, but what do you know... here he was... still craving at least one person telling him that he did good, and not out of pity, but because they genuinely meant it.

mood
...

location
Arts Festival

outfit
snazzy

playing...
Stuck Like This

by Jace West​

mentions
Stassi

interactions
Mike

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

Lucky DuBois

Okay.

That went…about as good as it could have, right? Sure, he was a ball of rage and all he could think about was watching Josie and Maggie beat Elise into a bloody mess or maybe she’d get hit by a car. Either one would be satisfactory.

He’d be fine.

He was fine.

Pfft. Bitch thought she could bother him and it totally didn’t work. Thought she could bring up his dad’s suicide and the abuse and that would knock him down?

Fuck her.

He. Was. Fine.

Ash was a good distraction. The befuddled look on her face and the fact that he could tell that she had expected a different reaction. What that reaction was, he didn’t know.

“Yeah, yeah, of course I’m fine. Are you? I mean, like…I’m just…I’m so, so, so sorry. I didn’t think she’d do like that. Like I didn’t even tell her that we were doing the song together, and I didn’t know that Jace even knew, and I didn’t know that she’d do that. And if I had known, I would’ve made sure you didn’t see her, but I didn’t think she’d say anything. And I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I should have said sketching, or like, like, like, done something, but I just…I just…I didn’t know what to do or like what to say, but that’s just a dumb excuse. And I’m just…I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He listened to her ramble on. Apology after apology. He hated it. She didn’t do anything wrong. Her mother was a bully. Her mother was a bitch. He would have used the ‘C’ word but it probably was against RPN guidelines.

She was out of line. She was everything that his father had been, but at least she had the good sense not to leave a visible mark. She was smart. This was worse. Cutting you from the inside. Leaving a lasting wound that would fester and only proved to make him destructive.

Elise was good.

She hit Lucky exactly where he was least expecting it. Exactly where it could do the most damage. And he hated it. He hated her. He hated that she made him feel how his father used to make him feel. That she had made Ash feel like she was nothing. Like they didn’t matter one fucking bit.

He felt her hand leave his and wrap around her stomach. “Hey.” He said softly as he brought his hands to her shoulder and caressed them softly. “Hey, hey, it s all good. I’m good. You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He said as he maneuvered his head so that she had to look at him. “You didn’t do anything.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

“I didn’t…I didn’t mean for any of that to happen and I’m so sorry. Please don’t mad.”

He sighed and let a small smirk form on his face as he lowered his head, shaking it slightly from left to right. God Damn, this woman has done a number on her. But when he looked at her, he didn’t pity her. He saw how strong she was. It reminded him of himself. If they could survive this, they could survive anything.

“I'm not mad, Ash.” He sighed. “If anything…I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry for what I said or standing up to her or whatever…cause your mom is…” He cleared his throat and stopped himself from going further. She knew. Didn’t need him to tell her. “But I am sorry that I made things worse.”

"I'm so sorry, like, you can... you can go. If you want or whatever. I... I mean, like, I get it. It's fine."

He let out a soft chuckle as one of his hands slid up and rested on her neck. “If you think you’re the first hot girl who’s mom didn’t think I was good enough for their daughter, you are sorely mistaken.” He said, trying to calm her down. “I’m like parental kryptonite.” He said with a small smile as he gave her neck a soft squeeze. “But I’m good right here, as long as you need, yeah?” His eyes on her as the familiar feeling washed over him.

The one from earlier.

The one he’d been trying to ignore.

Fuck.

mood
restless...not nervouslocation
dressing room

outfit
looking good

playing...
Drowning

by Olivia Holt & Ross Lynch

mentions
na

interactions
Ashtags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Kitsune2202]

"Queens without Kings are historically better"
Naomi Elizondo

@MiniMimi has set their status to:
Fuck this...

@MiniMimi has set their outfit to:
Fancy pants

@MiniMimi has set their location to:
vending machine

@MiniMimi has mentioned:
Alex, Saint,

@MiniMini has Interacted with:
Nate ( Winona )

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Naomi hadn't even noticed Nate walk up to her. She'd been so wrapped up and trapped in her mind by her frustration she wasn't really registering the world around her anymore, like tunnel vision. His words somehow cracked that case...well the word munchie did. She didn't actually hear him greet her at all. However someone calling her out on at least part of what was going on was just what she needed.

She still didn't look at where the voice was coming from as she took a deep breathe to try and re-center herself. "That obvious?" She asked under her breath before opening her eyes finally. She took a step back from the machine still glaring at it. Truly this rich ass school couldn't afford working snack machines? Really!? Ugh. She wasn't even that mad about the dollar since it's not like she didn't have another one, but it was the principle you know?

Or maybe it was a sign that she didn't really need the sweet treat. That eating wasn't going to make her feel any better.

Damn she must've looked real bad just now to anyone passing by. This wasn't the place to be in such a state and she knew it. It made it look like she was cracking under pressure. Maybe she was? She didn't think so...it was just her LAST one. Not that the others hadn't been a success, and like she didn't have a career. She already had plenty of offers. She had several artist lined up wanting to sing her lyrics, so that couldn't be it. But a stranger wouldn't know that by looking at her.

At least hopefully her face was partially hidden away since it was against the machine. Which begged the question did this person speaking to her actually know her, or just some random who knew the signs of someone in need and felt so inclined to step up to the plate? Curiosity outweighed shame to find out so she turned her head to find none other then Nate.

She was surprised to see him. Well and glad because then if someone was going to catch her looking like this it was nice for it to be someone she actually knew. Well as well as you can know a previous hook-up. Talking wasn't really something they did when around one another, especially back then. She wondered if Tony ever found out they slept together. Not that she thought he'd care, but any thought that slowly pulled her from where her mind was a few minuets ago was a good thought.

Point was she wasn't surprised he'd talk to her, but surprised to see him because why was he so far from his own project where the visuals were on display? Unless she really was out of it and she was much closer then she thought she was. Maybe she was the one that was lost?

"Long time no see." She forced a smile onto her lips because while she might feel like shit, that wasn't his fault or his problem to deal with.

She watched as he attempted to hit the machine as well to free her food like a good Samaritan and it made her almost giggle at the sight. He didn't have to but the sentiment was appreciated.

This was why she loved her previous hook-ups. They'd all ended on good terms. No betrayal, no hurt feelings, none of that. Just a good time, for a little while and then moved onto better things. That was the beauty of no-strings attached, right? No commitment meant no one got hurt. They could have moments like this down the line and nothing was awkward or weird...no pain.

Her mind drifted to Alex, wondering if things really could end like that for them at this point. She'd already broken so many of her rules with the girl...it was getting messy. Naomi didn't like mess. Mess meant drama. Drama meant tears. Hell drama that wasn't even her fault meant tears. Yes she was thinking about that whole Saint and Josie thing. The other unfortunate roommate of her cousin. God did she sleep with each of his roommates? She really needed to stick to pretty girls, rather then stoner guys cause with the exception of the boy before her nothing good comes from it.

Though Saint didn't count since she didn't sleep with him...no matter what anyone says. That WASN'T her fault and screw anyone who thinks otherwise. All that damn drama and she didn't even get laid from it. Total waste.

"Thanks for trying." She shrugged realizing that it was a loosing battle against this stubborn metal devil. It has literally one job and can't even do it right.

Before she had to figure out what the hell to do now he spoke up offering her bliss, "Now that's music to my ears. I could definitely use it." She grinned looking over at him. Was getting even more high a good idea? Probably not. What did it matter she wasn't actively performing right? Something to sedate the munchies for just a bit, or at least relax her enough so it didn't matter.

"Lead the way." She walked over to him figuring he had a place in mind already.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West

No, no, she wasn't panicked. She was like... she was fine. She just felt bad, she felt guilty for what her mother had done, and she was worried that Lucky would just like... Ash didn't know, but she was prepared for whatever the worst might be. So she was stumbling through apologies, stumbling through words that hardly made sense to her as she spoke them, but that she was frantically trying to get out as if that might, like, lessen whatever he might say or do.

Ash expected him to like... snap at her. Storm off. Insult her with some comment that would probably mimic her mother's insults, and then he'd leave.

Instead, his hands came to rest on her shoulders, and she instinctively flinched again because she was expecting like... like... like... she didn't know -- him to like shake her or something? Yell at her? So her muscles instinctively tensed but instead of anything like that, his grip soft and she reluctantly started to relax.

Well not relax but she wasn't quite as tense.

But he was being nice.

“I'm not mad, Ash.” He sighed. “If anything…I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry for what I said or standing up to her or whatever…cause your mom is… But I am sorry that I made things worse.”

That didn't make sense. Ash didn't get it. He should've been mad, should've been pissed, and he probably was and he was just playing it off like he wasn't. She wasn't dumb, and there was no way that anyone should've been fine or not mad after what her mother had just done.

"Don't," she mumbled, "don't like... don't apologize. You didn't make anything worse." Ash hesitated. She'd been trying to focus on like, anything but him, but now she reluctantly let her gaze lift up to meet his. She bit at her bottom lip, her eyes searching his. She'd kind of calmed down a little bit, but she still felt shaky. And like guilty. So, so, so fucking guilty, even if it wasn't like there was anything she could've done to stop her mom.

But there were still all of these what if's going through her head. Like all of these what if ideas of what she could've done or said to stop her mother from doing what she'd done. And it was the guilt of not doing any of those things that was currently chewing away at her stomach and making her sick.

His hand slid up to rest against her neck, and she brought a shaky hand up to rest on his arm.

“If you think you’re the first hot girl who’s mom didn’t think I was good enough for their daughter, you are sorely mistaken.” He said. “I’m like parental kryptonite. But I’m good right here, as long as you need, yeah?”

"No, no, it's... I'm fine," Ash sniffed and brought her other hand up to wipe at her eyes. She wasn't crying -- or, like, okay, she wasn't sobbing, but there were like, some tears. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be like, ummm... like, you shouldn't be having to comfort me. Like she didn't even, like... she didn't say anything to me. I'm sorry, I'm just... are you, like, sure you're okay?"

And she was supposed to hangout with Trevor, and have like a nice date and whatever, and yet here she was. Freaking crying.

mood
help

location
Arts Fest stage

outfit
sparkles

playing...
Drowning

by Ash and Lucky obviously​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Lucky

tags
gh0stwriter

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: fake chill

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: somewhere at the arts fest

basics

MENTIONS:
Javi, Kian, Bella

INT:
ohdittoh (Kelli)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Angel Cervantes

Angel's eyes occasionally wandered around the room as he and Kelli conversed, drifting between the various art pieces adorning the hall. How could he not get impostor syndrome among all this raw talent? He glanced at his own display, which was square array of portraits printed out digitally, then framed on the wall. Perhaps it was easy to find beauty in his own work when his project was all about his peers.

If it was one thing Hollywood Arts was known for, it was for being filled with kids that looked like literal models. And, in fact, some of them actually were models. Thank god the visuals department didn't have any explicit requirements about appearances... except for the actors, obviously. Either way, all friends and loose acquaintances made great art subjects, not that Angel was particularly interested in any sort of conventional concept of beauty. For the most part, he just, like... drew stuff? Whatever took his interest for the day, mostly.

Kelli's starry-eyed enthusiasm, as much as it wasn't her fault, cranked the artist's anxiety to the max, constantly reminding him of just how out of place he was compared to literal cow sculptors!? As she went on to compliment his work again, he could only smile, blush, nod, and awkwardly laugh some more until it was starting to look a little too repetitive and robotic.

Get it together, Angel, you practiced this kind of conversation all night just for this moment!

In the end, none of his practice really prepared him for talking to someone like Kelli, and it wasn't eve n because she was particularly judgmental or rude. In fact, it was the opposite. The girl had been so forthcoming and positive that not once did Angel actually have to defend any of his stylistic choices, nor did he feel particularly on guard at any time. How was someone supposed to prepare for a bunch of overly-ingratiating talking points?

“Oh, no, uhm, not at all!” the girl answered his question, allowing him an internal sigh of relief that the conversation wasn't totally one-sided and unwanted, “My performance was a little bit ago, and I’m, uh, just killing time…before…my…brother’s…band…goes…on…”

"Oh! How was..." Wait. Band?

“Wait a second…hooold up, dude…” Angel shut his mouth, allowing Kelli to speak while being aware of the exact revelation dawning upon her. A quiet "heh" escaped his lips, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips for a brief moment. “You’re Angel Cervantes!”

Uh... we've met!

“Sorry, it, uh, didn’t click before,” she said, embarrassed. Angel took her hand, accepting the handshake with an intentionally feeble, loose grip. He hoped in some capacity to absorb her nerves because—trust him—he'd been there, and there was no need to worry with him. “I’m Kellian — Kelli — you….knew that already, whoops.” He nodded, forcing another smile that screamed, "I'm trying too hard to be comforting!"

“But it’s Phelan, and my brother’s Kian — it’s — our, uh…sorry, bad at words.” She cleared her throat, shook her head, and tried again. “My brother’s Kian — it’s — um, our brothers, their band, you know?”

Huh?

“Sorry, that didn’t make much sense,” she apologized again with another laugh. “Okay, last try — uh, our brothers are in a band together!”

"Oh, Kian's in the band?" The soft-spoken boy thought back to the girl's laid-back older brother, calling upon what little he knew of him. "I honestly had no idea who was a part of that thing. Javi doesn't really care for keeping me updated on that stuff." Heh, heh... Forlorn sigh. However, it wasn't long before Angel perked up again. "I'm really glad he's back to doing something productive now, though! For a while, it was all girls and..." The dark-haired boy mimed the smoking of a joint, not daring to utter the name of his older brother's recreational drug of choice aloud.

“Neat-o! I know we’ve talked before, uhm…I think you dropped your sketchbook out of your locker once and I gave it back to you or something, but I didn’t — it didn’t — I just didn’t realize until now who you were again!" Angel definitely remembered the exact encounter she was talking about; in fact, it was the first thing that came to mind when he approached Bella for a visual description of Kelli. It had crossed his mind once again a few moments ago, but he merely waved his hand as though it wasn't a big deal she forgot. He was used to being the one who remembered all the forgettable details, anyway. "Gosh, sorry — but also…wow! Kian talks about how dope your brother is, so I’m going to have to tell him how dope you are, too! Runs in the family or something,” Kelli half-joked.

What a tangled spiderweb of acquaintances, bound by degrees of separation unable to be determined without a graphing calculator. "Runs in the family?" Angel repeated with a laugh, "The only thing that runs in the Cervantes lineage is arthritis and an obsession with major league baseball. And the only thing me and Javi really have in common is our grade level, which is still sort of weird because the last time we were in school together, I was a year below him. Funny how things work, I guess." His eyes shifted away from the other student's gaze as a part of his periodic attempt at avoiding eye contact. "We're two totally different people, to be honest."

I don't think I can say I even know the guy anymore.

"But thanks. You're sweet for saying that. I think you're pretty dope yourself!" Weird silence setting in. Again. Or maybe it was just Angel's nerves talking. What more could he say to lift the mood? "Merry Christmas"?

“Their performance is soon, actually,” she added absently, smiling. “You’re going to it, too?”

Ah, right, the performance! "Yeah, actually—I was about to head out in T-minus..." He checked his watch, taking pride in the fact that he was just about one of the last teens on earth to wear one regularly. "... now. Wanna come with?" He nodded his head toward the building's exit, which was clear of a crowd of art-appreciating denizens for the first time in the past fifteen minutes. "I think we some time before they start letting people in for the performance."

Taking one hesitant step, then another, Angel abandoned his post at his art display, moving towards the exit. Almost immediately, he checked to see if Kelli was following, internally screaming because how was he actually hanging out with a virtual stranger, who was a girl, which he definitely didn't know how to talk to, not that he was trying to think of her in any romantic context because that was weird and a little perverted because it wasn't like that, and...? What?

Who was this fake-social Angel and how long was he going to keep up this charade?

"So, uh, I meant to ask earlier..." he began, filling the gaps of momentary silence with his voice, "How was your dance thing? I bet you're exhausted." He cleared his throat, pretending to hack away all of his nerves. "I took a ballet class for a few weeks when I was five. I couldn't stand it. I don't know how you professional people keep up with all that toe pointing and bouncing and balance and... all that. I'd be wiped by now if I were you."

code by valen t.

 

[Xed]

Spencer Gray

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh when Maggie smirked and laughed that he was now stuck with her as a friend for the next 30 years. Friends huh?

After what happened with Sheryl, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t make any promises or commitments he couldn’t keep and here he had just jokingly come to an agreement to be friends with a girl he had known for no more than an hour, for 30 years.

Well it sounded like friendly teasing and joking, that was the vibe he got from Maggie, that her words were largely said in good fun, but he could be completely wrong. He had been wrong before.

Still, friends, he could do friends.

His career was his number one priority right now but that didn’t mean he was going to live as a recluse with zero social relationships or interactions until his dancing days were behind him. Though he probably wouldn’t make for a very good friend, especially given his track record from the past couple of years.

“No take backs it is,” He cheered to it, raising his soda towards her before downing a mouthful, “but if you don’t like my answer in 30 years please go easy on me then.” He teased, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief as he set the drink back down.

Best to be careful about what he joked about next though. Making light-hearted comments and unwitting commitments, implied or otherwise, was not a wise idea, especially since the other party could easily interpret his words differently and take them seriously.

To simply assume that his words were harmless because they were delivered in a teasing manner or as a joke would be nothing short of careless and irresponsible.

As he listened to Maggie talk about her troublemaking streaks Spencer continued to work away at his noodles.

He couldn’t help but wonder when she made a point of clarifying that her streaks were harmless to others, if she had faced such accusations in the past, especially given her whole line about the popular belief surrounding her.

Being new to the school, he hadn’t yet acquainted himself with most of the students or what things were like on the social scene, but like any school, especially one full of rich and famous kids aspiring to enter the entertainment industry, there was surely one hell of a rumour mill.

No doubt filled with salacious gossip and reputations that presented themselves as a comprehensive and accurate picture of the person to whom they were attached. It would be naïve to think there was nothing of the sort. Of course, there was no smoke without fire, but smoke could easily be blown out of proportion and twisted into something more malicious than it really was.

Back home in New Zealand, he had seen first hand just how twisted and messed up things could get, and here, he would withhold further judgement until he knew more, but he couldn’t imagine it being any better. Only worse in fact.

Given the choice, he would actually rather he never get acquainted with the rumour mill but… that was wishful thinking, the chances of him never hearing anything were slim, perhaps next to none even.

In any case, that was irrelevant, right now.

“I believe that.” Spencer said in reference to her comment about her streaks. After all, until he saw her in action himself, he had no reason not to. He sat his chopsticks down as he moved on to her question.

“My brother thinks I’m a stick in the mud and too much of a goody two shoes sometimes, but I’ve had a few rodeos,” he paused to take a sip of his drink, a smile playing on the lips as he recalled the memory, “back home in New Zealand, a couple of friends and I snuck a yacht out onto the water at night once on Christmas Eve. The boat belonged to one of their parents, needless to say we got quite the scolding when they found out, but it had been a fun night.”

That had been two years ago, around the time he had first met and started dating Sheryl after his abrupt return from LA. At the time, that night had been the happiest day he had in the months since Nat’s diagnosis had called him and Ezra back home.

And he was going a bit too far down memory lane. Time to stop right there and return to the conversation at hand.

He and Maggie seemed to share quite a bit in common in regards to their feelings about their respective career paths and he nodded in agreement as he listened to her. Most people didn’t get to be as lucky as them, having the opportunity to do something that they loved and enjoyed. There were plenty who had no choice but to spend hours toiling away at a job that they didn’t enjoy in order to put food on the table.

It was all the more reason why he had to treasure the opportunity he had to pursue dance and make the most of it. Starting with his performance later.

“Well then on your behalf, I’m happy that you get to do something you love and enjoy in music.”

The moment of tension and awkwardness that seemed to sweep over them at Maggie’s mention of not being heard and his own clumsy response or lack of, passed over them in a heartbeat.

Like they’d never missed a step, the conversation moved on to their social circles and performances. In the back of his mind though, his brain, was weaving together bits and pieces of their conversation, piecing together a puzzle.

She didn’t feel heard. She was saddled with a bad rep as a troublemaker and that rep in addition to portraying her as acting without thinking, possibly presented her as someone who ended up hurting those around her when she misbehaved –

Ok, nope. Stop right there.

Spencer gave himself as mental shake as he tried to focus on Maggie’s words while finishing up the last of his ramen.

Painting a picture of a few comments and carelessly jumping to conclusions was never good, especially when he didn’t know everything. He was getting ahead of himself again. His little conjectures weren’t going to help anything. It wasn’t his business to get involved with anyway and he didn’t want to. He was here to study dance and pursue a career in it, not get caught up in or stick his nose into the troubles or lives of others.

God that made him sound like such a jerk, but he would be even more of a jerk to get entangled in other people’s business when he was in no position to do so.

Anyway he had to focus, lighten up and keep the celebratory mood going. What was Maggie saying? Ah yes, friends. She hoped he considered her one of his new friends.

“I thought we were already friends. Did I only just pass the friend test stage then?” He teased playfully. “I’m just kidding. It’ll be nice to explore the city with others.”

Beth was taking him on a tour next weekend so he would get to see a little more of the city then. Between Arts Fest and settling in to their new apartment in the city, he hadn’t had much chance to explore it yet.

He laughed and smiled along with Maggie when she called him the best celebration party she’d had in a while. “I was hoping for passing marks at the very least but that’s even better. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

Spencer glanced at his watch and emptied his soda as Maggie listed the performances she had left to see.

“That’s a shame, I would have loved to see her dance, maybe I can convince her to show me some moves in one of the studios next time.” He commented when Maggie revealed that Josie had already finished.

One music performance, then his dance, followed by the reading and then another performance at the end. He followed suit and rose from the seat. “Sound likes a great game plan to me.”

Reaching over, he collected her bowl and utensils to clear along with his own. Once his hands were free, he pulled up an image of the layout of the stages on his phone, holding it between them so Maggie could get a look.

“Which stage are they performing at? That one?” He pointed at a spot on his phone and waited for her confirmation. Once he got it, he scanned their surroundings for the direction to head in before flashing her a smile.

“Let’s get going then, wouldn’t want to miss their performance.”

…

After weaving their way through the crowd and winding paths of the school, Spencer and Maggie had made it to the stage where her friends were performing and found themselves a nice spot to watch the performance from.

Come to think of it, he still didn’t know which friends of hers they were watching, other than the fact that they were music students. The place was crowded and getting loud so he stooped down a little so his mouth was closer to her ear in hopes that his voice wouldn’t get drowned out by the surrounding noise.

“By the way, I forgot to ask, but whose performance are we watching?”

mood
Change gears

location
arts fest

outfit
Nat's Pick

playing...
WONDER

by Shawn Mendes​

mentions
Beth, Josie

interactions
Maggie

tags
Kitsune2202

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Zeph Evermore

A lesser prank master probably would've crumpled underneath the smack that Lin sent between his shoulder blades, but Zeph was no lesser prank master. No, no, in fact, in the handful of times that Zeph had hung out with Lin, he'd learned to be ready for overly harsh smacks, prods, and general (friendly) abuse from his buddy. He'd also kind of learned to expect the unexpected, so to speak, so he was totally always ready for Lin--

Lin held his hand up for a high five, but yanked his hand away when Zeph went to high-five him back.

Well.

Ready for almost anything.

“Nah, kiddin’ — up top!” Lin said, holding his hand up and this time, Zeph was actually able to high-five him. “Down low, my guy,” and Lin held his hand down -- and Zeph went to smack it, knowing what kind of game that Lin was trying to play here, but again... Lin was too fast and snatched his hand away. “Secret of the universe, Zephy — move with stealth and always be zooming, luhmao.”

Damn it.

Zeph was going to have get so much faster if he wanted to best Lin at any of his games -- but it was a challenge that the young sophomore was more than willing to take on.

As they continued to walk, Lin moved so that he was walking backwards in front of Zeph. Of course, with this new stance, Lin kept bumping into people, and Zeph felt kind of bad. He would've started uttering out a number of apologies to the people that Lin was disrupting, but Lin was facing him and Zeph wanted to be cool. And cool people didn't apologize, and he was pretty sure Lin would just tease him if he did so, so...

A silent apology to everyone they were disrupting. Zeph apologized.

“Ayo, so pranks, huh?” Lin asked. “Zephlin, Prank Masters, t-m, luhmao! Kicking ass and taking names. The best bros ever. Amen."

"Haha, yeah," Zeph said with a laugh.

"What you thinking? Is there anyone who you want to —“ He abruptly stopped walking, jumping then landing in a fighting stance, his fists poised as though he was about to fight someone. “— hiiiiyahhh, whapah, kablan, boom —“ He said, and started striking at the air for a moment. “— exact some kinda revenge on or something, bro? Someone you wanna fuuuuuck up, huh, huh?”

Zeph's face paled, his eyes widening at that. "No, no, no," he said quickly, giving a shake of his hand, "god no, no, no. No there's no one I'd wanna get revenge on. I mean..." he hesitated, as he briefly thought about stupid Mike slamming his face into a sink. "I mean... well, yeah, no, there's no one. Nope. No enemies here."

He was hardly even an enemy.

Awkwardly, Zeph found himself rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked down at his friend. "I, ahh... well for pranks, I was umm... maybe thinking..." he paused for a moment, his hand dropping back to his side as his head kind of bounced from side to side in thought.

"Ya know, we kinda just... don't do... any... prank that hurts people...? Or is... like... super illegal...?"

mood
i'm too lazy to come up with a good mood right now

location
Arts Festival

outfit
no, he's not getting super fancy

playing...
We Like It

by Computer Games​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Lin

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

Avery Ohtani

Decision making and directions weren’t Avery’s strengths, but thankfully Bella was there and she seemed to have the answers that Avery didn’t, so he followed her with Casey as she led them through a door to the dimly lit backstage.

All sorts of wires and equipment lined the sides of the walls. Tripping hazards at every turn. He made a mental note not to move around carelessly to avoid having his clumsy self trip over a wire or crash into a piece of equipment and cause an accident.

As he surveyed the surroundings, Bella answered Casey’s question from earlier, announcing that they would wait backstage for him. A mixture of relief and worry filled him.

For one, he didn’t have to make a decision about where they were going to go, on the other hand, his anxiety over the possibility of him knocking into something or someone in this dark and busy backstage only rose.

He carefully moved himself closer to Bella, hoping that sticking next to her would help him avoid any accidents for however long they would be staying backstage.

After they had signed in and their names were called, Avery could feel his anxiety skyrocketing.

He wasn’t even going on stage and he hadn’t even contributed all that much to the project beyond a few edits, but this was it. For the first time, something he had worked on would be presented to the public.

To say he was nervous as heck was an understatement. He was sweating and his heart was pounding as he watched Bella adjust Casey’s outfit and hair, hangs tightly clasped together. The relaxed manner in which they seemed to be carrying themselves as they set about getting ready was incredible to say the least.

If only he could be half as relaxed as them. His whole body felt stiff. He liked crowds and being around people but the thought of being in front of people made him feel cold and nervous. And he was staying backstage. The fact that Casey was going to sing in front of the crowd outside, that he sung in front of such crowds on a regular basis, amazed him.

As Casey headed out on stage, Bella suddenly spoke to him and he turned to see the smile on her face gone as she spoke what sounded like ominous words.

“I really hope our song does not suck. Casey may be a good singer, but there is only so much he can do with horrible lyrics.”

Oh no. Were the lyrics horrible? They were going to make the crowd listen to horrible lyrics? In that case shouldn’t they stop him before he went up on stage?

A look of pure panic set itself on Avery’s face as he looked around frantically. Where was Casey? Who did they go to stop him? What should he do in this situation –

The sound of music blaring from on the stage interrupted his thoughts and his sank.

Too late. The performance had already started. Oh no.

Please don’t be horrible. Please, please.

And then not knowing what to do, he just shut his eyes and listened. From where they stood backstage, he could hear Casey’s voice as he sung the familiar lyrics and the sound of the crowd. Were they screaming? Angry screams? Happy screams? Were there even happy screams? Yes, those existed. Did those screams outside sound like happy screams?

He couldn’t tell, but Casey’s voice sounded nice, amazing actually. This was what it was like to hear someone sing live. He could feel his skin prickling, his body reverberating as the sounds coming from the speakers hit his ears. It was like his whole body was coming alive.

The more Avery listened and felt the music, the more his anxieties faded away as the excitement and thrill of hearing his first ever live music performance took over. His eyes opened, the panic that had occupied them previously gone, replaced instead with admiration as he caught a glimpse of the audience and Casey from where they stood.

He couldn’t quite tell from the distance and darkness but it looked like they were… smiling?

And then the song stopped. Was it over already? He looked around and when he turned back to look at the stage, he found himself staring at Casey who grabbed Bella and urged them onto… the stage???

Wait, they were going on stage? Were they even supposed to go up on stage? What was he supposed to do up there?

There was no time to think as Avery found himself following them onto the stage, under the blinding lights, in front of a massive crowd of faces. All staring at them. Woah.

He froze as he stared back at the crowd then quickly moved to bow politely as he had been taught to do. Next to him, he caught a glimpse of Casey waving his hand around from the corner of his eye. Avery had not idea how long the moment was going to last so he just kept bowing until Casey finally ushered them off stage.

No sooner were they removed from it, Casey launched into rapid fire speech. “So, so, so? How’s that? Perfect, yeah? Like ya know, totally nailed it, totally made all those words way better ‘cause I had that mad,” he brought his hands up to mimic his guitar, “ya know, yeah?”

“You were amazing!” Avery gushed, his excitement matching Casey’s. Moments ago up on the stage he hadn’t really known what he was doing and had been nervous but hearing the applause and rushing out on stage like that had given him an adrenaline rush. Not to mention, he was easily swayed and so when Casey started bubbling up with excitement, he got swept up with ease.

“The singing was incredible, you were up there just like lalalala so easily,” Avery made a poor attempt at mimicking Casey’s singing with his pretty tuneless hum, “and you swept the whole audience away!”

His eyes were wide and bright like a child’s as he turned to Bella. “Wasn’t it amazing Bella? The audience loved the song didn’t they? Oh yeah,” he looked Bella straight in the eye as something clicked in his head, “that reminds me Casey called you Bellalalala earlier.”

Wait that wasn’t relevant to the conversation. Saying lalala and talking to Bella had reminded him of Casey’s nickname for her but otherwise, come to think of it...

Hadn’t Casey said something about that nickname and Bella?

...

What was it that he had said again?

mood
Lalala excited

location
Arts Fest

outfit
festival formal

playing...
song title here

by artist here​

mentions
NA

interactions
Casey, Bella

tags
Winona geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

Lydia Fox

Whiplash.

That’s what she got every time she had an interaction with Lin. Maybe it was that he had zero ability to maintain a coherent conversation and bounced from tangent to tangent like a pinball machine.

Or maybe it was that he chucked a piece of candy at her face? Okay. Tossed. But it almost hit her. And like…she caught it and maybe she was slightly proud of that and maybe she was slightly okay with her and Lin being cordial, but either way.

Whiplash.

And she needed to catch her bearings. Let her mind relax and realize that it no longer had to decipher linspeak and go back to its regularly scheduled programming.

She made her way just in time to see the stupid fucking whore bitch. Most people call her Charlie. Anyway, she was being escorted in a room by some prominent members of Hollywood Arts.

Spidey sense was tingling. And she was nosy. She made her way over toward the room and stood outside the door. The crowd behind her made it difficult to hear as she pressed her ear up against the door.

She made out enough. Sabotage. Expulsion? As if Lydia would be so lucky. Not expulsion. But Charlie’s scholarship had been pulled. A small smile formed on Lydia’s lips. Yeah, so she was a bitch. She never denied it, but Charlie deserved everything she got. The bitch tried to ruin her life.

The words stopped. She could no longer hear voices from the other side. She turned to make an quick exit, but the crowd was too much. Turning back, she collided with Charlie.

She groaned slightly. Well, this should be fun.

“Fuck man.” An annoyed look overcame her face as she looked Charlie up and down. She was a mess. Granted…Charlie was always a mess. Never put together. A waste for a girl that had potential. Had being the operative word.

“Fucking Lydia, how lovely to see you.” She rolled her eyes. Why Charlie had any issue was beyond her? She hadn’t fucked with Charlie’s life. She hadn’t almost gotten her taken out of Hollywood Arts. She hadn’t forced her to disappear for months to “get better”.

“Is it?” She said as the crowd dissipated. Figured. Just when she could make an escape, her worst enemy had to make an appearance. It was fine. She could have fun with this.

Though…she couldn’t do the damage herself, she was sure that whomever Charlie fucked over would be giving the students what they want. Drama. Gossip. Something to talk about other then their boring lives.

“To what do I owe the fucking pleasure? Finished talking with my boyfriend, are we?” She glanced down at the candy in her hand and a smirk formed on her face. “What can I say? Seems he can’t stay away these days.” She said with a small shrug.

“But don’t be jealous, Char. It was all business. At least for me. I’d never think to come between you two, especially given that your precious little relationship has an expiration date.” She said alluding to the knowledge of her possible exit.

“Tough break.” She said with a smile. “But Karma does have a way of catching up to you wouldn’t you say?” Her smile was fake, but inside she was beaming. And watching Charlie fail was going to be sweeter than the candy bar she twirled in her hand.

mood
pissed

location
the school parking lot

outfit
clothes duh

playing...
Kiss the Girl

by The Little Mermaid​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Charlie
tags

ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Kitsune2202]

Charming as the Devil
Jared Darrington

@He.went.2.Jared has set their status to:
It's supposed to be showtime

@He.went.2.Jared has set their outfit to:
Outfit for project

@He.went.2.Jared has set their location to:
Backstage

@He.went.2.Jared has mentioned:
Maddie, Dalton, Adri, Gen, Mike

@He.went.2.Jared has interacted with:
Luciana ( Stardust Galaxy )

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Jared considered himself a very calm person, always collected, and kept his composure even under stressful situations. Hell he'd just proven that mere moments ago with everything that'd happened between Gen and Mike. Now that wasn't necessarily HIS drama or pressure, but still he was a participate in some way and his day was altered slightly due to it, so he counted it.

However that part of him was being tested as he looked one of his models in the face while they panicked about the clothes he'd ripped. The boy started damn near crying in front of Jared apologizing to which Jared gave no remorse, "If you start to cry and it makes your face swell up I'll make sure after my show you get exactly what you're asking for." He snapped. It was bad enough the clothes had to be fixed, he didn't need the boys' face to be covered up too.

He could kill this boy in front of him if finding a replacement with the exact measurements he needed wasn't harder then simply fixing the mistake. One more misstep however and he made no promises if this kid would ever be seen again after the show was over. He was just a junior would anyone really miss him? Doubtful. He might be doing the department a favor by weeding out such an incompetent weak link.

At the very least her was definitely going to pay him back for this embarrassment even if things turned out decent. Why? 1. Because no one messed with Jared Darrington's work. 2. he gave this simpleton a real chance to be put on the map and he really was about to ruin it over nothing. So He made sure when he spoke with him before walking away he knew all of this explicitly and clearly. The boy looked white as a ghost when he turned his back to walk away, but Jared didn't care. He would either perform to standard or be a dead man walking.

He let out a soft sigh of relief when Luciana picked up the phone. He was too focused on his own irritation to pick up any annoyance in her voice even if she had given any indication of it. Also because even if she did it's not like it'd matter to him. He tried to phrase it as if he was concerned about her time, but in truth he wasn't, and he liked to think she knew him well enough to know that.

Sure they weren't close, but they ran in the same circle enough for her to know the key points of his personality.

All he cared about were results. All he wanted to hear from her was her answer and it was exactly as it should've been. He knew he'd made the right choice in calling her up. Then again it's rare he doesn't make the right call in his eyes.

He quickly hung up and went to go check and make sure nothing else had gone wrong in his absence. While he was walking around checking on everything he's sent text to Maddie informing her of what had happened and to try and hurry back from where ever she'd wondered off to. Not that he believed she'd be late or anything because he knew she was more reliable then that, but seeing a familiar face would serve to calm some of this internal rage building up.

Well that was a thought he never imagined crossing his mind. Seeking peace of mind from Madelaine Harlow? What was his life turning into right now?

Sure they'd known each other forever but at no point did he ever consider them to be 'close'. He merely liked her better then her trouble making brother. Now that they were 'dating' though it was hard not to get used to her being constantly around, or people constantly asking about them. Like how she messaged him that apparently her friends asked if they'd slept together. Nosey bratz. Sure the whole point was to stir a buzz around them, but it was still...different. Much more so then he expected it to be or feel. Not that he let her in on any of these intrusive thoughts, because girlfriend or not the inner workings of his mind were off limits.

He kept it simple. Be confident, don't lie.

Luckily Luciana appeared quickly,
"I came as soon as I could. What's the emergency?"

He motioned for her to follow him to where the boy from earlier was pacing back and forth seemingly trying to calm himself down and nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of Jared.

Jared gestured over to him, "This idiot ripped his suit jacket and slacks from falling off some stairs, and we go on soon. This is the center male piece of the line. Can you fix it?" he turned to her hoping the answer was yes. He new she mostly did costume design but sewing was sewing yes? Sure different material and fabric made things more complicated, but something was better then nothing. While he didn't say it aloud as to not bite the hand helping him, he'd prefer it to not look like patch work either. He decided against the potential offending statement for the greater good. (You should all be proud of him.)

While yes it was because of the importance of the grade, and yes scouts were important for Maddie...he only wanted to impress two people. Two people who probably weren't even in the crowd unless the Harlow's wanted to see their daughter and they tagged along. His parents could spot imperfection a mile away and would somehow no doubt know about this without even being in the audience. In fact they'd probably somehow hear about this hiccup even if it's fixed and find a way to tell him he should've done better to prevent it. Something he already knew and didn't need to be told...but sometimes even the golden boy needs to be polished as they like to tell him.

If she could pull this off that'd be good enough for him for now, but it'd also make them even. However even Jared knew better then to let someone who has proven how reliable they can be out of his sight. Even if she didn't actively owe him, he'd find another way to keep her close until she inevitably did again. That is of course IF she pulled it off. He'd decide once this was all said and done if her value would be boosted of drained for future endeavors.

He couldn't help the thought crossing his mind that for some reason the females of this dept. were so much more dependable then the males? Save maybe Dalton. He doesn't talk to the guy so he doesn't actually know, but he's seen him around Adri enough to know he can't be a complete waste of space. She's not the type for pity friendships after all. Something they had in common. "If you can, consider us even."

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

Lucky DuBois

Okay.

So that feeling. You know the one. The one no one won’t stop talking about. Yeah…that one. It’s definitely not what everyone thinks it is. Hell, even Lucky didn’t know, but it sucked. It was tension. Not bad. But nothing good would ever come of it and he knew that. He knew. He’d destroy it. He always fucked things up and yet…he pressed on.

He told himself…it’d be different this time. He wouldn’t let his dick or his mouth or both get him into trouble, but then there was a look. Or a touch. And then, everything went wrong,

“Don’t, don’t like apologize. You didn’t make anything worse.” She was lying. She knew he was lying. She was being nice. She was trying to detour him from thinking about the reckoning she was in for. Did she think he believed it? Believed that Elise wasn’t going to make Ash pay for his display of heroics?

He’d been there. He’d done that. And he knew the truth, whether she wanted to blame him or not. She felt her hand rest in his arm and he relaxed. The tension fleeting as his eyes met hers. She really needed to stop.

“No, no, it’s…I’m fine.” He watched her quickly wipe a tear away as if seeing her upset was the worst thing that could happen. Sure, he’d yet to deal with a Ash breakdown, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t suited for it. He was a dick. An ass. Refused to breakdown. Instead, he just messed things up more, but for the people in his life. The ones that cared about him. The ones he called friends. Cause caring too much was not an option. For those people. For Ash. He could be there. He could handle it.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be like, ummm... like, you shouldn't be having to comfort me. Like she didn't even, like... she didn't say anything to me. I'm sorry, I'm just... are you, like, sure you're okay?"

“Hey.” He said softly as he let his thumb brush across her cheek to wipe away a tear. “Stop apologizing. And stop worrying. I’ll be fine. It’s…”. He was lying. He wouldn’t be okay. He would focus on it. His secrets were out. How long before everyone found out he was not only a poor, scholarship kid with a dead mom, but an abuse survivor with a dad who shot himself? How long before Josie and Dorian found out? How long before they DM him or show up at his apartment? How long before Ash realized what she knew and everything changed?

He let a smile form on his face. It was fake, but she didn’t need to know that. “I’m good.” He reassured her—and himself. He was good. For now. Later…that would be a different story.

He stared at her for a moment, his thumb caressing her face without even realizing it.

Fuck.

“Are you gonna kiss her or what?”

Lucky took a deep breath and his eyes closed. Taking a moment. He glanced over and narrowed his eyes. It would fucking figure. And why did everyone think they were gonna make out all the god damn time. He lowered his hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in your seat, Twerp?” Lucky looked around. “Where’s Nina?” Lennon. Lucky’s younger brother. He loved him. He truly did. But in this moment…in this exact moment…he wanted to end his life.

“Bathroom.” Lennon replied flippantly as he looked between the two.

“Of course.” He took a step back from Ash and gave her a sympathetic smile.

“This is Ash?” Lennon asked as he looked her up and down. “She’s hot.”

He should have went with his last thought. He grabbed Lennon and pulled him close, ruffling his hair. “This is Lennon. My brother. And he has impeccable timing and no filter.” He stated. She probably wasn’t really up to meeting anyone let alone his brother, who shouldn’t have been here in the first place, but this day was about giving Lucky an inch and taking a mile, so…

mood
restless...not nervouslocation
dressing room

outfit
looking good

playing...
Drowning

by Olivia Holt & Ross Lynch

mentions
na

interactions
Ashtags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

kellian phelan

Angel’s assertion that the only thing that ran in his family was “arthritis and an obsession with major league baseball” got a soft laugh out of Kelli. Maybe it was just that he didn’t want to be compared to his brother, but she still caught his subtle dismissal of her compliment, and she made a mental note: don’t do that.

She kind of, uh, tended to do a lot of social things that she realized after the fact she probably shouldn’t do. Social awkwardness for the win.

Still, his compliment’d made her smile, but she couldn’t really think of a response that’d be anything besides a “me? no but seriously you’re the dope one” and that felt rude now, so a weird kind of silence settled in for a moment.

Of course, when she’d subject changed back to the performance, Angel responded right away. “Yeah, actually — I was about to head out in T-minus…” He lifted up his, woah, watch. Dude, that was so dope! She didn't know anyone who still wore watched, but she guessed she did now — dope! “…now. Wanna come with?” He nodded towards the exit. “I think we have some time before they start letting people in for the performance.”

Kelli glanced towards the exit, and then back at the stranger-with-some-connections. Usually, situations like these set off Kelli’s stranger danger alarms and made her want to throw up peace signs and get the heck out — ya know, someone being like, “Come with me,” two seconds into meeting them for the first real time — but actually, this time, the vibes felt right. Angel was nice and also her brother’s bandmate’s brother, and she was pretty sure that if he wasn’t going to kidnap her. Plus, if he tried, someone would stop him. “O-Oh, yeah, sure!” she stammered, giving him a bright, somewhat nervous smile.

Angel took a few steps away from the art display, and Kelli began to follow. He glanced back at her, and she gave him a smile, coming to stand at his side. He looked nervous, too, so probably not ‘napper material. Good.

N-Not good that he was nervous. There wasn’t anything wrong with him being nervous or anything, but — no, she meant, good that Angel seemed to be the same kind of guy that she figured he was.

(Maybe she was kind of nervous, too, now that she was thinking about it.)

As they made their way to the performance hall, Kelli anxiously fiddled with her skirt tail. “Um,” she started to fill the silence that she now felt somewhat awkward in, “I’m excited to finally see them perform.”

Her voice had been a soft mumble, though, and Angel didn’t seem to hear her, instead making his own attempt at conversation. "So, uh, I meant to ask earlier..."

She looked over at him, smiling curiously and raising her brows.

"How was your dance thing? I bet you're exhausted."

“My dance thing…?” she repeated, and then she suddenly remembered where she was and what she’d just done. “Oh, right!” She laughed softly and breezily. “Sorry, uhm — it went great, dude! Thanks for asking. Jo did freaking perfect and it went great.” She pinched a bit of fabric between her forefinger and thumb and began to rub it between her fingers nervously, looking towards the ceiling. “The, uh, prep was more exhausting than the actual show,” she said, “but yeah, you’re right — I’m pretty tired from that.” She breathed a laugh, and then looked back at Angel, realizing how that may have sounded. “Not in the, uh, snoozey-sleepy-get-me-away-from-people-kinda way,” she explained, “but just bleggggh kinda tired.” She laughed again. “Flop out on the floor and stare at the ceiling for six hours kinda tired, ya know?”

The boy cleared his throat. “I took a ballet class for a few weeks when I was five.”

She cocked her head at him, curiously raising her brows again. “Really?”

“I couldn't stand it.”

Kelli let out a genuine laugh. Not because she was nervous — because Angel was funny.

“I don't know how you professional people keep up with all that toe pointing and bouncing and balance and…all that,” he said. “I’d be wiped by now if I were you."

“I’m a professional?” Her question was genuine. Even though she’d been here since the start of the year, it always kinda surprised her to hear things like that. It all still felt freaking unreal. “Woah…wild.” Her eyes went dreamy for another moment, and then she blinked a couple of times, laughing somewhat embarrassedly and pulling back into reality. Her cheeks tinged pink. “Sorry, I’m just…I’m not really used to this yet.” She gave him a shy smile, looking in front of herself again. “Being at this, uh, pre…s…” She couldn’t remember the word, so she just opted for, “school that’s such a big deal is still super freaking insane, y’know? I don’t remember sometimes that, uh, ya know, wow, I frigging made it. Like, that I’m a professional here with people like you, a freaking super-talented artist dude whose stuff already belongs beside the Mona Lisa, and dancers like JJ and Cami and Eli and Jo and Zeph and — and sorry, I’m getting —“

She wasn’t looking down enough apparently, and she cut herself off with a gasp as she ran into a small child. She stopped in her tracks, her face crumpling in concern. “Oh my Gosh, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” she said quickly, but the kid had already picked himself up and was rushing off. She gave him a sorry wave, though he never looked back to see it, and then she looked up at Angel again. “Sorry,” she gave, smiling at him apologetically and straightening up. She dusted off her skirt — more out of nervous habit than to actually get anything off — and then started walking again.

“But, uh, well,” she continued after taking a moment to remember where she was in the conversation, “I’m sure if you would’ve kept with your dancing, you would be just as good if not better than me by now! It’s just a matter of practice with dance. Also, I had this scary teacher when I was little with crazy looking teeth —“ She held up crooked forefingers and wiggled them at her lips, then moved her backs of her hands to press them against her forehead. “— and big poofy hair, y’know.” She wiggled her fingers, and then dropped them with a giggle. “She always yelled at me when I didn’t do, uh, ‘perfect’, so maybe she also had something to do with it,” she joked, and then she shuddered.

Kourtney Simmons. The name still gave her the bad kind of chills to this day.

She laughed slightly and continued. “It’s kind of a lot to keep track of, though. I forget my moves all the time and stuff. Like, every time I go onstage, until the music kicks in, I forget everything I’m supposed to do — it’s an issue.” She giggled, but it was the truth. “Plus, you were five back then! I’m sure you’d do pretty dang well if you tried now.”

She gasped suddenly with an idea, and she held up a fist and gave his shoulder a slight nudge with it. “You should be my dance partner a time or something, bro! Come to the, uhhh, studio after school a day or something, I dunno. I could show you the moves and you could try your hand at showing up your five-year-old president,” she half-joked.

(The word was precedent, but she was unaware of her mistake.)

“I bet we’d both be impressed! And if not, uh, I’ve got tough feet?” she kidded. “And also —“ She cut herself off, looking over her shoulders, and then she shielded one side of her mouth with a palm, looking up at Angel and lowering her voice. “You can’t tell anyone this, shhh, ‘cuz I think Mr. Lackley would strangle me with his big meaty claws if he found out, but…I keep a box of Goldfish in my duffle bag to snack on during practice — it’s got it’s own little pocket and everything.” She dropped her hand, straightening back up. “If all else fails, I’ll still share my crackers with you,” she laughed, and then she added, “Or they’ll be a reward if it all goes great!”

After giggling a moment, she realized that, uh…that…also probably sounded weird. She was jumping the gun and jumping to the conclusion that he would want to hang out with her again, and uh, like…she just got…super excited over the smallest ideas, and —

She turned beet red. “I just mean, uh, like…I mean, if you want to hang out,” she laughed shyly. “Er, hang out again? Yeah, I’m, uh, uhm, sorry, I dunno, I’m just, I’m bad about jumping to conclusions, uh…”

She trailed off, looking away from Angel and around the place, but thankfully —

“Oh, look, we’re here!” she gasped, her excited smile coming back onto her face as they arrive and settled at the back of the crowd waiting at the door.

“Looks like you were right, though — they haven’t started letting people in yet,” she said with a slight frown. She craned her neck to look around at all of the people, and a small smile quickly replaced the frown. “Look at this crowd…woah, Kian’s going to be so friggin’ stoked, dude! Wait, hold up.” She pulled out her phone and opened her camera, then flipped it to selfie mode. She held up her phone for a moment before realizing that she probably needed to ask. Awkwardly smiling over at Angel, she shyly asked. “Can I, uhm, get a selfie?” She quickly followed it up with, “Sorry, uh, you don’t have to, I just, uh, I want to, like, get a picture of, like, uh, this, uh, crowd and, uh — I mean, like, for my brother and my, uh, my parents to kind of show them, uh, how things are, like, going and to show them the crowd here, but…uh, yeah, you don’t have to, uh…”

This conversation really was just fluctuating from one kind of nervous energy to the next.

mood


location
the celestial theater

outfit
: )

playing...
dance

by foxes​

mentions
eli, jj, cami, jo, zeph, kian, & javi

interactions
angel

tags
hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

Lin craned his neck and cocked his head more and more dramatically as Zeph continued, nodding slowly as encouragement at first before ramping up the speed of his nods, pulling his lower lip further and further in beneath his front teeth, and squinting his eyes tighter and tighter. By the time that the larger boy concluded, “Nope. No enemies here,” Lindsay was looking at Zeph with all of the knowingness of one rosy-cheeked sponge privy to the fact that his blue, phallic-nosed coworker delighted in the delectable, greasy burgers produced at their place of work.

“You have enemies, don’t you, Squidward?”

C’mon, Lin knew the truth — everyone had someone who they wanted to sabotage! You gonna say you don’t? You effin’ liar, ess-em-aych. There had to be someone that you wanted to see burn.

Like Lin? Lin had a whole ass list.

Aight, so first was Frederic Dale mcfuckin’ Westborne. Next came Angel and Javi, right in with each other because they were both bitches — although Javi could suffer Lin’s wrath a couple of seconds after Angel and it’d be acceptable, luhmao. Then Hunty Drakey-Poo. Bitch was getting all his teeth yoinked. And then, ehhh…Chas. Cheese Marinade deserved hell, too, luhmao. And then after Cheesy came Lantennae Sinclaire, and then after that he was pretty much done.

See? Now it was Zeph’s turn.

He kept nodding — c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon — but Zeph just tried to move on.

Dramatically heaving a sigh and slumping his shoulders, Lindsay dejectedly looked at the ground, shaking his head and clicking his tongue loudly. “Zephyr…Zephyr Evermore, mate…” His voice was slow, with a thick, phony terrible Australian accent. He looked up into his friends eyes, squinting and frowning deeply. He gave a sniffle, his eyes twinkling. (There were no tears, but he was good at faking it.) “I know there’s gotta be someone you wanna roast on the barbie along with your shrimp, man…” He cracked a grin and snickered at himself, and when he opened to continue, he just ended up laughing again.

He slapped Zeph’s back, then shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. “Ess-em-aych, then I’ll just have to pick the targets, I guess.” He shook his head as though it was a shame. “Ess-em-aych,” he repeated, but he was grinning widely and proudly — which meant that he already had an idea.

‘cuz duh. It was Lin. The ideas never stopped.

Zeph rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at Lin. “I, ahh…well for pranks, I was umm…maybe thinking…” He dropped his hand, and Lin looked at him incredulously. “Ya know, we kinda just…don’t do…any…rank that hurts people…?”

Lin blinked.

“Or is…like…super illegal…?”

Lin blinked again.

Blink, blink.

He put a hand to his head, still caught in a stunned silence.

Blink, blink.

“Zephy.”

Blink, blink.

“Zephy, dude, you’re not serious are you?”

His brows knit together in something that looked like offense. “You’re tellin’ me you wanna do a harmless prank?! And a legal prank?!” He dropped his hand to his thigh, and it let out a loud ”clap!”. “Zeph!” His voice was loud and surprised — there was nothing inconspicuous about Lindsay Kay, ever, but especially not now. “Dude!” He laughed in disbelief, shaking his head. “Pranking someone where no one gets hurts and doing something that wouldn’t get you arrested is the most normie shit I’ve ever heard, luhmao!”

He shook his head, hoisting an arm onto Zeph’s shoulder and yanking him down to his height. He hugged him tightly, grinning toothily at him, and he lowered his voice and leaned to mutter in Zeph’s ear. “I got a big secret: pranks without hurting someone or the risk of getting arrested aren’t fucking pranks, dude,” he said, and then he laughed, moving back from Zeph’s ear but keeping him hugged tightly. He grinned at him. “But I got an idea — I got an idea, I got an idea, I got an ideaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. It’ll break the ice, man, and then we can do some bigger s-h-double-i-t-t!” He gave Zeph’s shoulder one last squeeze and then pulled his satchel to his front.

Lindsay flipped open the flap and began to dig inside, his tongue poking out from his lips and his face knit in intense concentration. “Booom!” he laughed when his hand found what he was looking for. He put one in one hand and one in the other, and then, wielding them like a wands, Lin held them up for Zeph to see — two metallic Sharpies. “Sillllvaaaaa,” he cheered, shoving one at Zeph’s chest, “they’re silver!” Grinning mischievously, he closed the flap on his satchel and moved it back to his hip, then held the Sharpie up like a sword. “You know what we’re gonna do with these?” he asked in a low voice, and then he crooked his finger and bounced it in a come hither motion, trying to get Zeph to leaned down.

Standing on his tiptoes, Lin cupped a hand to Zeph’s ear and explained in one word, four syllables: “Van-da-lis-immmmmm!”

Pulling back, Lin cackled happily. “C’mon, Zeph!” he said before the other boy could really protest. Turning on his heel, he took off into the sea of people, shoving random people out of his path and calling, “Better keep up, luhmao!”

He didn’t look back to see if Zeph was following, instead running with all of his might through the people before ducking into —

Eh, the bathrooms first — and then they’d have to stop by the art exhibit.

He flung open the door to the men’s (?) bathroom, stopping inside, only slightly winded. Laughing to himself, he took a few slow steps further in, stopping at the counter. “Dudeeee,” he whispered to himself, “who the fuck made this place so fancy pants, luhmao?” His voice echoed through the spacious latrine, and he looked around for a minute, wide-eyed and gawking.

Rich people were so fucking weird. What kinda decor was this, luhmao?

He stooped down to make sure that there were no feet hanging out from the stalls — weird that they didn’t have urinals in here, but maybe bougie places just didn’t — and then he uncapped his Sharpie, making his way back to the mirror and poising his Sharpie to start his vandalism.

mood
pranking timeeee lmaooo

location
the celestial theater

outfit
feesh

playing...
voldemort

by lindsay kay​

mentions
n/a

interactions
zeph

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Genevieve Johannes

@NextGen has set their status to:
can I catch a break now?

@NextGen has set their outfit to:
glam

@NextGen has set their location to:
the stadium

@NextGen has mentioned:
Ash

@NextGen has interacted with:
Trevor, Landon

@NextGen has tagged:
ohdittoh & gh0stwriter

If you squinted really, really hard, you would notice that somewhere deep within her, Gen actually gave a shit about the mewling Irishman in front of her. Yes, get your laughs and overly dramatic gasps out now: Genevieve Carmen Johannes has somewhat of a heart. Was she only sticking around because Trevor was friends with Ash in some capacity? Absolutely. She wouldn’t admit that she actually felt bad for the poor little guy that was clearly falling for her sister, no way in hell.

If you also looked very closely, you would find yourself peering at a girl who had absolutely no damned idea what to do with a little gasping underclassman on the verge of total mental annihilation.

“Ah, thanks. I, ah…apologies about, ah…that. Yeah…” Trevor struggled in front of her after having taken her rather impromptu (and Elias inspired) advice and used it. Gen shrugged, crossing her arms carefully over the silky white fabric across her torso.

“Yeah,” she tried with an attempt to keep a straight face, “don’t mention it.”

And so the rambling continued as quickly as it had temporarily subsided, Trevor speaking heavily about him being genuinely fucked. It took every ounce of Gen not to spit out some snarky comment or burst out laughing at the absurdness of his words. She really shouldn’t have asked if he was okay because she certainly wasn’t prepared for the guy to actually answer, even less prepared for him to go off on one emotional tangent after another.

Regardless of what Gen wanted, Trevor kept on talking with barely enough room in between breaths to allow Gen to speak a single word. At least if Trevor was rambling and filling the space, Gen didn’t have to speak. She didn’t have the damndest idea what to say if she had to.

“But that’s beside the point, and God feck, I’m talking too much, I’m sorry — I should just shut my bitchin’, thank ya for the haych-two-oh again an’ let ya go, ya know —” Why the hell was Trevor laughing so much? “Go gallivatin’ off on my own to find my grandmother so she can kick my arse for avoidin’ her, because that’s all I’ve been doing all mornin’ — oh feck, she’s goin’ to have my ’nads. An’ I need those an’ my headache’s already feckin’ killin’ me, an’ my head’s goin’ ta feckin’ explode when she starts naggin’, an’ all she does is nag, an’ I’m goin’ ta have ta hear all kinds’a questions pryin’ about what I’ve been doing an’ I don’t want ta say I’ve been avoidin’ her, but I can’t ever lie convincingly, an’ even if I say I was watchin’ Ash’s performance, she’ll get all teary-eyed an’ start yelling, an’ then I’ll feel bad — I already feckin’ feel terrible, feck — an’ feckfeckfeck…”

“Trevor, please calm do-”

“An’Ineedthosean’myheadache’salreadyfeckin’killin’mean’myhead’sgoin’tafeckin’explodewhenshestartsnaggin’an’allshedoesisnagan’I’mgoin’tahavetahearallkinds’aquestionspryin’aboutwhatI’vebeendoingan’Idon’twan’tasayI’vebeenavoidin’herbutIcan’teverlieconvincinglyan’evenifIsayIwaswatchin’Ash’sperformanceshe’llgetallteary-eyedan’startyellingan’thenI’llfeelbadIalreadyfeckin’feelterriblefeckan’feckfeckfeck…”

Gen’s facade dropped, her entire face riddled with confusion and frustration, her eyes blinking heavily a few times as her mind tried to grasp what he had just said. The more she thought, the more confused she became. Trevor’s ability to rant was damn impressive.

“You…didn’t…want to hear any of that, did you…?” Trevor asked, his entire demeanour shrinking down to a size comparable to a mouse. “An’ I jus’ gave you an earful, like you haven’t got…stress of yer…own…”

Trevor moved to sit on the bench, which Gen certainly didn’t protest. At least if he was sitting, he wouldn’t fall and smash his head if he fell down. Gen had never been the biggest fan of blood and she was fairly certain that her middle school first aid class wasn’t sufficient in taking care of blunt force trauma to the brain. Sitting was much more comfortable so, in a few graceful steps, Gen crossed and lowered herself onto the bench beside Trevor, flicking the fabric of her dress carefully so it wouldn’t wrinkle under her weight.

“I usually smoke to help my stress. I’m sure you know…I’m only really known for my smoking, ‘pedovan’, an’…er…anal-ness. I can’t smoke today. If I smelled like weed or Nana — my grandmother — realized I was high, I don’t think I’d survive…” Silence settled between the two as Gen had dreaded. Great, just wonderful. How was she supposed to respond to that? “Any tips?” Gen looked over at Trevor, tilting her head in confusion. “On, ah, surviving weed-free, I mean. You’re not high, but ya seem put-together, ya know. Or if you are high, teach me your stealthy ways. I need it.”

With a sigh, Gen clasped her fingers and placed them in her lap. Trevor didn’t know her well, he had never met ‘Gen’. He only knew ‘Genevieve’ and everyone knows that Genevieve was never stressed, never worried, always in control. Even if Ash had indulged him in the stories of how Gen was at home, she hardly was convinced that Trevor was genuinely asking her for her input. She looked over at him, holding his eye contact as she tried to figure out what he wanted. It quickly dawned on her that this was the first time she had ever actually made eye contact with her sister’s friend.

Fuck, he must seriously be struggling.

“I’ll be real with you, Trevor,” Gen started as she looked away from Trevor and down at the gems that adorned her delicate wrists, “I don’t know how to answer that question. Most people don’t even see me as someone that can feel stress or anxiety or whatever the hell it is you’re going through right now. Kudos to you for being insightful enough to perceive me as someone who can.”

Gen paused for a moment, trying to figure out what to say next. Trevor didn’t seem like the type of person that would care much for sensitive words or a friendly pat on the shoulder. Perhaps anecdotal evidence would work best.

“One of the first times I ever went on a runway I nearly fainted. I had worked myself up so much the days before that when I was about to go on, I got all pale and sweaty, ended up tearing the collar suit that I was wearing from clawing at it so much. I was a damn mess.” Gen laughed slightly, recalling the day from quite a few years ago. “I had to shut my brain up somehow so I just… I don’t even know, I pretended I was somebody else. It worked for me somehow, making up this version of me that didn’t have any of these worries or fears that I actually had. So this person that I had thought up, she became me pretty much all the time.”

She really should not have been telling Trevor that.

“I guess my motto of ‘Fake it Until You Make It’ isn’t really good advice. But you wanted an answer,” Gen sighed with a shrug, “so there you go. Dealing with your anxieties and worries is an important thing to do, but sometimes it simply isn’t the right time. Sometimes you just have to be present, pretend the worries don’t exist, force your mind onto something else. Sometimes, fixating on the thing that bothers you most makes the situation worse.”

Gen moved to stand, pulling her dress up slightly at the ankle to let the long legs of her high heels make contact with the ground directly. Trevor had stopped panicking, at least for the time being. Taking a few steps away, Gen paused and smoothed her dress down on her hips.

“Oh, and Trevor?” Gen asked rhetorically over her shoulder. “Ash doesn’t do well with people who allow their feelings to take over their very being. She also doesn’t fancy people who drown their emotions and desires in bong water and marijuana smoke. So why she seems to fancy you, I don’t particularly know. But, I do know my sister and I do know that you have a soft spot for her.” Gen smiled warmly, reaching a hand up to adjust the jewels around her neck. “If you want her, be direct and go for it. None of this hiding or second-guessing yourself. Just say what you feel. Otherwise, I’m afraid Lucky will have the one up on you.”

While she was talking, Gen had pulled a piece of paper free from the small silver clutch at her side, a thin pen etching her phone number onto the paper. Turning around, Gen handed Trevor the piece of paper and offered him a gentle smile.

“If you need anything at all, Mr Callaghan, you know where to find me.”

Departing from Trevor’s company, Gen stepped out into the main visitor’s area and began making her way towards the dressing room. The dress clinging to her skin was growing uncomfortably tight and her heels were beginning to hurt her ankles and the jewels were irritating her neck. With a few graceful steps into the crowd, Gen stopped suddenly as she spotted someone on the side of the hall opposite to her own.

With a quick brush of her hand through her curls, Gen carefully picked her way through the crowd and planned what to say. She and Landon had not spoken much since he left from his stay with her. It was too strange with everything happening with Mike. It was too much to worry about what was going on with both boys at once. But Mike had never meant as much to Gen as Landon did and, well, now that everything was fucked up with Mike, maybe it was time to fix things with Landon, the way she should have after lock-in. Pulling in beside Landon, Gen went to wrap her arm around his waist but instead pulled her hand back to her side.

“Hey,” Gen managed, smiling softly to the slightly taller boy, “how, um, how’s it going?”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ava Sanders

Well, Jules wasn't wrong.

But she was also really fucking wrong.

Sure, whatever, Ava hadn't been in a relationship before. Big fucking whoop. It didn't meant that she suddenly didn't know what the hell she was talking about. You didn't need to have firsthand experience or whatever to know what the hell was a big ass mistake, and Ava could guarantee that this relationship with Dorian was a fucking mistake.

Why?

Well...

Because Jules liked him.

She had shit taste in guys. It was fucking true, and Ava wasn't about to apologize for it.

“You know what?” JJ shook her head, crossing her arms and taking a few steps away from Ava. “I won’t come ‘crying’ to you anymore. From now on, whatever the fuck happens with me and my boyfriend, you’ll be the last to hear about it.”

Was JJ fucking serious right now?

Of course she was fucking serious -- and Ava didn't care. She didn't want to hear JJ gush about her dumb relationship with whatever fucking boy, and she didn't want to hear every time she got into a fight with said boy. And JJ didn't want to hear her come back with the I told you so's, which obviously Ava would be delivering because she had fucking told her so. She'd fucking called it and JJ just never wanted to admit that she was right.

"Fine," Ava snapped back, her tone harsher than she'd intended it to be. "I don't want to hear all about your fucking sob stories, anyway. It's old, JJ. You don't let anyone walk all over you, but the instant a guy -- what? -- gets you a fucking necklace you're suddenly making up excuses for why he's being such a dick?" She scoffed, shaking her head with a look of disgust and annoyance plastered on her face.

Ava was going too far.

She knew she was going too far, and she knew that she needed to pull it back.

JJ didn't fucking need this, especially not before her performance.

But Ava's anger and frustration was kind of like a volcano -- it'd fester and bubble until it reached a point where it'd just erupt and explode. And much like a volcano, once Ava snapped, there wasn't really any stopping her until she'd said everything that was on her mind.

"I knew you were a superficial, materialistic bitch, but I didn't think you'd choose that over what's better for you." Too far, too far, she needed to stop. She needed to fucking stop.

She needed to close her mouth and bite her tongue.

But Ava had never been that good at biting her tongue -- least of all when she was being told that she didn't understand something, just because she hadn't experienced it or whatever the fuck it was.

"But fine, stick with some asshole that's only keeping you around to impress his mommy and get good press just because you're hot. Have fun."

mood
ugh

location
The Arts Fest, duh

outfit
minus the rips in the jeans, thanks

playing...
i wanna be your girlfriend

by girl in red​

mentions
Dorian

interactions
Jules

tags
Soap

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

trevor callaghan​

There were very rare times in Trevor Callaghan’s life that he 1) recognized that he had a problem or that his behaviors needed any adjustment whatsoever, 2) admitted these things aloud, and/or 3) asked for help. Typically, the recently-turned-seventeen-year-old believed — or at least liked to feign that he believed — that he was beyond reproach or any wrongdoing. On most occasions, he could never be wrong, and if he was wrong, you were more wrong than him.

Unbeknownst to Gen, she was witnessing an occurrence that very few had ever heard of, much less seen: Trevor Callaghan asking for help.

Maybe she did realize how weird it was. Feck if he knew — he was only just now fading into the realization himself, as the fog and static gradually cleared from his mind — but she was staring at him for a long moment. Or — feckin’…maybe he’d let something slip he wasn’t supposed to or something. He tried to recall what he’d said last before, Any tips?, but nothing was coming to mind.

Feck, feck, feck.

“I’ll be real with you, Trevor,” Gen said, looking down at her bracelets.

Good. Yes, be real. Please. Seriously, he was fecking desperate for some relief right now — something to calm him down besides weed.

“I don’t know how to answer that question.”

Fuck.

There went that idea.

“Most people don’t even see me as someone that can feel stress or anxiety or whatever the hell it is you’re going through right now. Kudos to you for being insightful enough to perceive me as someone who can.”

“Yeah…” Trevor said, reaching up with a sweaty, shaking hand to rub his neck before folding his hands in his lap. He swallowed hard, looking down at his folded hands.

If she wasn’t going to help, she could just shut up right now.

Thanks for the water. Now leave.

He didn’t mean to sound like a fecking arsehole, but he’d just let her see — er, not let her see, since he had no control over the episode. He’d just been on the brink of a full nervous breakdown in front of the girl, and if she wasn’t going to help, he knew what it was coming to: ridicule.

She was going to laugh at him, mock him for asking her or fecking something, but it wasn’t going to be good.

People were dicks to him. He could only assume that Gen was the same.

Because who wouldn’t fecking spring at the opportunity to kick Trevor while he was down? Who wouldn’t seize the moment to laugh at him and spit in his face? You’re crying over your secret fecking girlfriend? How fucking pathetic. Seriously, how fucking pathetic.

But when Gen spoke, it wasn’t malicious. Or, at least, it didn’t sound like it.

“One of the first times I ever went on a runway,” she said, “I nearly fainted.”

Confused, Trevor glanced up at her.

“I had worked myself up so much the days before that when I was about to go on, I got all pale and sweaty, ended up tearing the collar suit that I was wearing from clawing at it so much. I was a damn mess.”

Sounds familiar. The cool, calm, collected girl in front of him, known for being a stone-cold bitch, had…done that before? Somehow, he found it hard to imagine, even though he barely knew her beyond her name and the unavoidable rumors about her.

She laughed slightly, then continued. “I had to shut my brain up somehow so I just…I don’t even know, I pretended I was somebody else.”

Huh?

“It worked for me somehow, making up this version of me that didn’t have any of these worries or fears that I actually had. So this person that I had thought up, she became me pretty much all the time.”

Pretended to be someone else? Made up this version of me that didn’t have any of these worries or fears that I actually had?

“I guess my motto of ‘Fake it Until You Make It’ isn’t really good advice. But you wanted an answer,” Gen sighed, shrugging, “so there you go. Dealing with your anxieties and worries is an important thing to do, but sometimes it simply isn’t the right time. Sometimes you just have to be present, pretend the worries don’t exist, force your mind onto something else. Sometimes, fixating on the thing that bothers you most makes the situation worse.”

Fake it ’til you make it…

Was that the answer to all of this? Act like you don’t care, ignore what you’re feeling until you don’t feel it anymore? Suppress your emotions and your fecking problems, and one day, it’d actually become your reality?

That…sounded…

Fecking psychotic.

Trevor had tried that before. Ignoring something, expecting it to go away, but it fecking didn’t. Maybe it worked for Gen, but it wouldn’t work for him.

Right? That was the definition of insanity — trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

“Thanks.” He gave her a smile. “I’ll give it a shot.”

It was a lie to spare her feelings; he’d just stick to his weed.

Gen moved to stand, and Trevor’s hand found the crumpled water bottle beside him to make sure it didn’t fall down and litter the floor. (Yes, even in his fecking tizzy, he still found it in him to be a good, cleanly citizen.)

“Oh, and Trevor?” Gen said.

He lifted his head to look at her again. “Yeah?”

“Ash doesn’t do well with people who allow their feelings to take over their very being,” she said. “She also doesn’t fancy people who drown their emotions and desires in bong water and marijuana smoke. So why she seems to fancy you, I don’t particularly know. But, I do know my sister and I do know that you have a soft spot for her.” He looked back down at his hands. “If you want her, be direct and go for it. None of this hiding or second-guessing yourself. Just say what you feel. Otherwise, I’m afraid Lucky will have the one up on you.”

Lucky.

The name sent a pang through his chest that physically hurt him, and he winced. He breathed out a soft sigh, and after a moment, he relented, “…right.”

Because she was right. Even with the relatively little that he knew about Ash, Trevor knew that he wasn’t her type. He knew that she was into hotter guys with better outlooks, better smells, “sexier” vehicles — maybe equally terrible temperaments, but definitely not guys like…like him. Even if Ash was with him — and even if Gen didn’t know that she was — Gen was right.

If Trevor didn’t get ahold of himself, he was going to lose Ash. And, fuck…somehow, he’d grown past an infatuation with her, and he’s grown past kind of caring, though he’d been unaware until now. He…wanted to stay with her, because he…cared cared about her.

He lifted his eyes just as Gen turned around and held out a piece of paper. She gave him a smile — a gentle one — and apprehensively, the boy took the paper from her. He held it out in front of himself, squinting at it, and it took a moment for him to realize: it was her number.

“If you need anything at all, Mr. Callaghan…”

He looked up at her, his brows knit in confusion.

“…you know where to find me.”

He looked down at the piece of paper again, breathing in a deep breath and releasing it in a sigh.

So. She had just been trying to help.

How rare.

A small smile cracked across his face. “Than—“ He started, but when he looked up to smile at her, she was gone. His smile froze on his face for a moment, and then faded. He let out a soft chuckle, looking at the crushed water bottle beside him again.

I feel you, he said to it internally.

Trevor looked up from the bottle and to the crowd around him. They were faces now, not walls, and he didn’t feel like any eyes were watching him. “Feck,” he whispered beneath his breath.

Now, her advice was settling it. It seemed fecking psychotic at first — again, he’d tried something like it in the past, but now Gen’s words were resonating with him. Come to think of it, had he ever really tried? Deep down, had he ever really fecking wanted to try?

Like with Ash. He tried to ignore his feelings or whatever for her, but…deep down, he knew that he couldn’t. Deep down, he still wanted to get with her.

So what if…what if he just never had tried? What if this really was what he should do?

Feck.

Yeah, no.

No, there was no way that he’d actually tried that before. And even if he had, he’d never tried in this way. You know. Being someone else. Someone with control over his emotions, someone who didn’t see what was happening with Ash and…and…and that guy — or, someone who saw it, but didn’t care, and didn’t think anything of it. Someone who wasn’t consumed by jealousy — or anger — or stress, constantly. Someone who could smile, or talk, or do anything without overthinking it.

Someone who…who was…supportive, and positive, and good. Or maybe not good — just decent.

He’d promised to change. To try to get better. When had he actually started that, though? Not at the fecking lock-in, where he was still panicked, uptight, headache-ridden Trevor. Not at the fecking — that school day where Ash blew him off, where he was still cold and jealous and unforgiving.

Fuck the justification for his feelings — he could find justification for anything if that was what he wanted to do. And even if his justification was really fecking compelling, all it was doing right now was driving a wedge between he and Ash.

Fake it ’til you make it.

You know…you know, for a fecking stubborn jackass, he found it awfully fecking hard to put his foot down to himself, but now? Fuck it. He was going to…going to fecking fake it until he made it.

Because, at the end of the day, he was Ash’s boyfriend, and at the end of the day, she was his girlfriend, and everything else — all of their other relationships — didn’t have any bearing on that, right? Yeah, because his paranoia was only holding him back, his hyper-fixation and soul-burning hatred for the boy who she fecking — no, none of that. His hyper-fixation and his soul-burning hatred for the boy who she performed with was only keeping him from trusting her, and…and was only hurting him.

Right.

If he had to ignore that — ignore him, ignore whatever the hell was going on with Lucky and Ash — and act like it wasn’t happening to make things feel right and to make things be right, he’d fecking do it. Because you could say what you wanted, but Trevor Callaghan was stubborn, incessant, and a fecking perfectionist, and he was going to be…better, point blank.

This date…would be a fresh start. Not just to their relationship, but to Trevor himself. He had to get his head out of his arse and do what he should’ve done all along.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and he swallowed hard. With still shaking hands, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

It was a text from his grandmother.

CAll me

Feck.

There was his dread again.

Disgust rose in his throat as he stood and tossed the bottle in the trash can. He swallowed, sighing deeply, and as he tapped the call button and pressed the phone to his ear, he concluded that no, the new him did not have to fecking apply to his overbearing bitch of a grandmother and his almost-mute grandfather.

When he heard the dial tone stop, he forced a smile, though she couldn’t see it. “Hel—“

“Sean. Trevor. Callaghan.”

FECK, SHE WAS MAD.

“Nana,” he chuckled nervously, “hello —“

“Don’t you dare start with me and that nonsense, Sean,” she interrupted. “Tha coffee at the blasted hotel we’re laid up in may as well jus’ be muddied water, m’knickers are perpetually wadded in tha front —“ TM-fecking-I. “— an’ I’m not in tha mood for any of your foolishness.” There was an exasperated sigh; in the background, Trevor could hear the rumbling of a crowd. “Good God, where are you, son?!”


“What?”

“We’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you fer tha past half-hour — yer ‘da’s about ta keel over and join tha saints, do ya realize what yer doin’?! Where tha Dickens are you? Are ya runnin’ away from us?”

“I…” His mouth was dry as he searched for the excuse he concocted, finally just saying, “I forgot.”

“Forgot,” his grandmother repeated. “Isn’t that convenient? Pat, Pat, he said he forgot, doesn’t that make it all better?” There was a pause in which he knew his grandmother was waiting for her husband to answer her. “No.” He hadn’t given the right one. Scoffing, the elderly woman continued with her thickly-accented sarcasm. “Heavens me, allow me a moment to give him my sincere apologies fer bein’ so upset — I can’t believe it was a simple matter of I forgot after all’tha texts and calls an’ everything.”

He reached a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Is the sarcasm necessary, Nan…?” he groaned before he realized what he said. He shook his head, knowing he’d hear her complain about that, but he continued. “Look, I forgot, but I’ll come and find you. Where are you at?”

“Is tha sarcasm…Christ! After all of tha raising we did with you, ya just came over to the States and it disappeared, didn’it? No manners, no self-control, no concern for us, no common sense — boy, how have you survived this long?! I thought this school was for the best arts students in the nation, but they seem ta let you jus’ live like a hooligan!”

A hooligan. Interesting choice of words.


“Nana…” He grit his teeth, forcing a smile again.“Where. Are. You, so I can come and find you?”

It was like fecking pulling teeth.

It went on like that for another few minutes before he managed, through a headache and a tightly-clenched jaw, to pull that they were by “that one art exhibit by tha restrooms, not that one, the other one, no, no, no”, and it took him fecking forever after hanging up to fight through the crowds and actually find them.

His head.

Was fecking.

Killing him.

Also, “find them” was used loosely there, as it was actually his grandmother who found him first, loudly crying, “Sean!” She had open arms and a cheerful smile, as though she hadn’t just bitched at him over the phone a matter of minutes ago.

It’s fecking Trevor! he thought in a sarcastically cheerful tone, but he didn’t say it, instead forcing a smile. “Heyyy, Nanagh!” His word became a sound of pain as his grandmother constricted him in a tight hug. His grandmother stood at 5’0”, the perfect height for crushing his lungs and trapping his arms at his sides.

Can’t. Breathe.

Need. Air.

Desperately, he looked to his grandfather. “Help me,” he mouthed, but his grandfather just gave a shrug. Trevor’s expression fell into unamusement.

If he had his hand free, he’d flip the guy off.

(He and his grandfather actually got along quite well.)

When his grandmother pulled back, he dramatically gasped for air, clutching a hand to his chest.

“Somethin’ tha matter there, Seany-boy?” his grandfather teased in his quiet voice.

Trevor shot him a glare, and then forced a smile to impress his grandmother again as he looked back at her. “How are you both faring? How was the trip?”

“Terrible,” his grandmother said, shaking her head shamefully.

(Trevor took after his response to minor inconveniences.)

“You wouldn’t believe tha audacity of the flight attendants on our ride over — just constantly on our arses about jus’ about everythin’, could hardly get any breathin’ space, an’ it was awful. I couldn’t travel with my shampoo bottle, either, and so I had ta use tha hotel shampoo, and you know my skin is sensitive and I break out if tha formula’s wrong.” She ran a hand through her long, vaguely-blonde-dyed hair. “It washed, but it changed the color of my hair a shade whiter an’ I think it added a few wrinkles, can ya believe that? There’s somethin’ in tha water over here, an’ it’s goin’ ta wind up killin’ me, Sean.”

No. “That’s…tragic.” That was the best response Trevor could give.

She nodded, sighing. “Your granda an’ I had ta make an emergency stop in a dollar store here — an’ will ya believe it, it’s so cluttered an’ claustrophobic in tha aisles that I could hardly even turn my cart around, an’ there are so many colors that it gave me a migraine, not ta mention how confusin’ it is that tha taxes aren’t automatically in tha prices, so I thought I had enough dollars out ta pay with, but there I was, diggin’ out change that I don’t remember tha difference between in front’a an angry little woman with a screechin’ baby…” She sighed once more, then smiled pleasantly. “But other than that, it’s all been well — ah, besides tha search for you.” She gave him a pointed look. “I asked a few people on tha way in, I said, ‘Have you seen my grandson, yea high, gangly, awkward with women, an’ dressed in a handsome little cardigan?’ but no one had any idea who ya were or anything.”

Trevor blinked. “You…” He looked over at his grandfather, and then gestured for him to come closer, mumbling to him, “‘da. Granda, please tell me she didn’t.”

His grandmother had the ears of a hawk. “Is there somethin’ wrong with that?” she asked.

“She did,” was his grandfather’s response.

“Jesus…Christ,” Trevor mumbled, slumping his shoulders.

And now ya fecking saw why he didn’t want them here.

His grandmother yanked him closer and tugged him down, planting a kiss on the side of his head. Red lipstick smeared all over his temple, and then the small lady paused and licked her thumb, gripping his shoulder tightly to keep him as place as she tried to lift her spit-wetted thumb to his forehead to clean it off.

Trevor craned his neck away, his face curling up in disgust. “Stop — stop, stop —“

“Sean Callaghan, will ya just hold still?” she huffed.

He managed to break away, lifting his own hand to his forehead to wipe off the greasy lipstick. “Nana, you’re making a scene!” he whined.

Feck, feck, feck, his head hurt so fecking much.

He dropped his hand, sighing. “I…God,” he mumbled. Looking back at his grandparents, he turned to walk away. “C’mon, let’s…jus’…” He faced forward. “Let’s go lookin’ for something you haven’t seen, I don’t know.”

“Don’t act so fecking reluctant, Sean,” his grandmother said, quickly walking to his side. “Look at me. We came all this way ta see you, you realize? We went out of our ways and over tha sea to come an’ see you, an’ you’re treatin’ us less like honored guests an’ more like random people ya took from tha street.”

“I know,” he said. “I know…and thanks for coming.”

“Mmhm,” she said, not quite buying his thankfulness. “You’d better be thankin’ us. We paid air fare an’ taxi fare an’ hotel fare an’ all. With tha way you’ve reacted so far, you’re lucky we don’t jus’ take ya from this school an’ fly ya back over with us to Ireland. I’m sure Mrs. Doyle an’ her blind cat would love ta see ya again.”

Trevor sunk his head. “Yeah…”

His eyes shifted around.

As the minutes past and they found a place or two to enter, Trevor found himself searching for the nearest way out of this fecking conversation.

Anything would work.

Anyone would work.

He had.

To get.

The fuck.

Away.

mood
…

location
somewhere, anywhere

outfit
before you say a single fecking word, this wasn't his idea.

playing...
some nights (intro)

by fun.​

mentions
ash & lucky

interactions
gen

tags
geminiy Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[AkuTheWolfOkami]

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  feeling anxious but good
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  at the arts fest waiting for amy's performance
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  @Wayward Son
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

REMI

QB1(#12) - Junior- Handsome - Actor

That went better than he expected. Not that he expected it to end in a train wreck or anything, but he did feel like there would be more push back about the situation. If we were all being honest about it, in character – out of character, Amy had gone through a lot in the dating department. It might have been best that even if Remi was a healthy partner for her, that she took a step back and healed a bit. This was high school though. We will push on and she will survive.

Remi’s eyes darted from Hunter to the stage, looking for any sign of Amy going on. This wasn’t actually a conversation he necessarily WANTED to have, but it was tactically beneficial for him so it wasn’t something he was necessarily upset about having.

Damn man. So, you and Amy. That’s...well, that just fan-fucking-tastic! And I mean that in the most genuine way possible!

Well. He supposed that was one response. It was probably a better response than one Remi would have given himself. I mean, let’s be frank. There was no benefit for him to cosign a relationship that did nothing for him. He got why Hunter would. He seemed to like Remi and Remi returned the sentiment. So far. He didn’t know much about him still, but they were able to have this conversation and it was pleasant so.

I’ll tell you this: you’re a hell of an upgrade from her last relationship----yeah yeah, I know you said unofficial, but before Nickie tore my heart out and ripped it to shreds, he rode the unofficial ride for a bit. Probably not the same, but hey maybe you guys will be Official City-bound before you know it.

“I’ll do what I have to ensure that she is happy and comfortable,”

he told Hunter gently in response. It was probably the most truthful thing he had ever uttered. Remi was a deceitful person, lying when it would benefit him. It’s how he worked his way to his success (of course he’s very talented but talent only gets you so far). How do you think he became student body president and all of those other accolades?

Amy though? That was someone he could never lie to. Or lie about. That was his heart and…was he a simp? Oh dear god Remi was a simp. For Amy at least.

But I have to say, you’re probably right about her not being in the best of places right now. I mean, how much do you know about her ex?

He was wondering how long it would take before that topic appeared. It caused Remi to let out a slow sigh. Dei was about the only one male in the world who could get to him. His former best friend and cocaptain on the football team. They had been close so he knew what buttons to push of Remi’s and especially with hoe he treated Amy it all came to a head during one of the practices that led to blows being thrown. Somehow they managed pass it and won a championship together, but still.

“Yeah he used to be my best friend, so I’m pretty aware of him..”

Remi mumbled mostly the sour taste of those words leaving him uncomfortable. He shook his head a bit and patted Hunter on the back,

”Say, look my guy. It was good to talk to you and maybe we should hangout some time? I’ll DM you my number and all that but…I gotta go handle something.” And with that, he offered to dap Hunter up before heading pass him.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[AkuTheWolfOkami]

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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  at the arts fest just vibing
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Slater ( Winona )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

STASSI

Junior(18)- Model - Golden Goddess

What in the world was she doing?

Who the @$#% was this?

This was not Anastasia Ilyanovna Unzhakova.

This was every bit Anastasia Mkhailnovna Perova.

The Russian born girl who had become Westernized. Americanized. No accent, no gold medal would ever change that. This was everything that her father didn’t want her to be. If he knew what she was up to he would blow a head gasket. Not because this was his little girl off with some boy¸ but because this was his Russian daughter off with some American boy. How dare she lie with those capitalist p-…..

Was she just trying to piss her father off? Was it the cliché daddy issues thing coming along? Trying to get her father’s attention or trying to fill that lack of attention with any male attention? Was that the reason she dated Jace? There were so many questions running through her head that she wasn’t sure what to think. This boy was not to her standards. Cute, sure. But he was a nobody. She was the daughter of a Russian Billionaire. An Olympic gold medal winning figure skater. She had seen her face on the cover of magazines, newspapers, online articles. She had watched herself on TV.

She was amazing. She was better than her peer, or so her father said. And who was Damien? It was her snack for the day. That’s who he was. She didn’t care about his social standing. She didn’t care if he was talented or successful. She barely cared about his name. She needed some attention. She needed to be touched. She needed to feel.

He would do.

Stassi would trail him as he went on his mission to find somewhere suitable to….complete their business. She wouldn’t look at it as crass as he probably did. She was a lady, a noble lady at that. It would be transactional, but it wouldn’t be crude.

When he seemed to find an appropriate location, she followed him through the door, but not before peeking around to see if anyone had spotted.

Why would it matter? Right? It mattered a lot. She still had an image to uphold outside of her father, outside of her family. She was still Olympic Gold Medalist Anastasia Perova. She still helped run clinics for little girls wanting to get into figure skating. She still owned her own skating rink in South Los Angeles. She was still a role model.

But once she was sure that no one had spotted her(well at least recognized it was her that they spotted), she moved through the door. She made sure that the door was locked before she made eye contact with him.

That lopsided smile wasn’t doing it for her, so she cast her gaze to the side and slowly approached him. She placed a finger on his chest and ran her manicured nail to his jawline placing a kiss then a nibble on his jaw,

”No more talking….”

And with that….

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Winona]

Elizabeth Sterling

Ha. It would appear that Beth had won this little spat back and forth with her her older sister, and there was a smug smile on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked towards Tori. Right now? Tori was floundering -- failing to speak and make all that much sense as she tried to come up with dumb excuses or reasons or whatever and even went as far as to accuse Beth of not telling the truth.

Naturally, Beth played the part beautifully -- jaw slightly dropped, a surprised expression on her face, hand pressed dramatically over her chest as she blinked in Tori's direction as if she couldn't believe the audacity of her sister going as far as to say that she was wrong. That her and Ezra weren't dating.

Beth was prepared to spin more lies following this, but then Tori decided to play equally dirty.

“Beth’s actually got her own little someone, actually — Ezra’s little brother, Spencer.”

Their dad chuckled. “The Grays are a popular bunch with you two, huh?”

Her jaw dropped open, but Beth quickly recovered. There was an annoyed look on her face as she stared daggers into her sister, her arms crossed over her chest, fingers digging into her arms. Her eyebrows were drawn down into an angry scowl, her lips downturned into a pouting, annoyed frown.

“No, no, just Spencer — and uh, just Beth, uh — Beth’s all about him,” Tori laughed and then had the audacity to give Beth a smile. “I mean, they hung out aaaall the lock-in. Ran away when I wasn’t looking, the whole nine yards. Who knows what they got up to while they had me distracted. She’s just projecting her own issues on me. I don’t have a boyfriend, but she totally does. I remember now — she wanted to go see Spencer’s performance. Same last name, easy to confuse.”

"That's not what happened," Beth whined, and then she jutted a finger out at Tori accusingly. "She did like the same thing. Like she was hanging out with Ezra all lock-in, too. Like all alone, too."

Well, to be fair, it wasn't a total lie. Like, Tori had said that she'd gotten the charger or whatever with stupid Ezra before wasting her night looking for Beth -- as if she needed to do that.

“Mom,” Tori said, “like, seriously, she was super dreamy-eyed over him, and… Oh, but, like, wait, but I don’t mean that I, like, let her go off and do something bad — like — I just — she kept running away from me. And then she whined about me telling her why that was a bad thing for her to do. She really doesn’t, like, respect me. She’s kind of a little…” She reached over and put her hands over Beth's ears, and Beth angrily swatted at her sister as Tori whispered to their dad. “…bitch sometimes — right now, too.” Laughing slightly, she dropped her hands, and smirked at Beth. “But I don’t hold that against her — and I don’t think Spencer does either, so good for him.”

“A little bitch…? Huh, the maternal genes must run stronger than even I figured,” he chuckled.

“Puppy love,” she laughed. “Literally like something out —“ She pointed to the stack of books behind them. “— those. I mean, there’s a story I wrote that’s practically word-for-word what she’s talking about.”

"Yeah, it's probably about your stupid relationship with Ezra." Beth snapped. "He's on his way over, too. I totally texted him to see where he is, so..." she smirked in her sister's direction.

Of course Beth was still pissed about the whole bitch comment -- when yeah, she'd obviously heard. She glared at Tori, and then roughly shoved a hand into her shoulder. "Also you're the bitch. You literally threw a hissy fit when I said mom was coming," Beth hissed through gritted teeth, and then it hit her what she'd said.

Well.

"Hey," her mom said. "Both of you stop." With an exasperated sigh, she looked in the direction of their father. "Would you do something?"

mood
ugh

location
Arts Festival

outfit
classy

playing...
It's Still Cool If You Don't

by Briston Maroney​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Tori

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Damien Slater

Yeah, that was fucking right. Damien Slater. Yeah, the Damien Slater had just done it with some hot chick he'd never met before in a random ass dressing room or some shit in the fancy ass theater that had been rented out by his dumb fucking school. Yep, he still kind of had it.

"Alright," Damien said as he pulled on his suit jacket and paused by the mirror to check and make sure that he still looked presentable. He ran a hand through his curly brown hair and then straightened back up, grinning over at the girl. "See ya 'round, Annabelle," he said and with that, Damien was gone.

He wasn't really one to stick around and shit.

Plus he'd kind of let the time get away from him, and he knew that his mother was going to fucking kill him if he was any later. He'd probably missed whatever dumb fucking thing that Dalton was doing for this shit Arts Festival, and he knew that his mom was going to bitch at him about it later.

Who wanted to go and watch someone walk on a fucking stage? Modeling wasn't fucking hard. You know what was hard? Animating motherfucking tentacles.

Luckily, he'd apparently pulled that chick into an area that was close to where Dalton had been performing, because it wasn't super long before he actually spotted his mom and fucking George through the crowd. And they'd found that fucking dick that he was supposed to call a step brother.

Dumb as fuck.

"Hey, mom," Damien said with a smile as he came to stand beside his mother. His smile fell as he looked away from her to glare at stupid Kirby. "Dalton." He said, the distaste evident in his voice.

His mother sent a hand to lightly smack him in the chest and Damien pulled his hands, which had been resting comfortably in his pockets, out to press against his chest -- and, you know, ward off any more smacks from his mother or the fucking psychotic ass senior beside him.

"You missed Dalton's performance," she said, clearly annoyed with him. "I told you to come right back and not miss your brother's performance. Who even was that girl, Damien? Was she your girlfriend?" She let out another annoyed huff at her son. "I can't believe you wouldn't even introduce me to your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Damien said, his face flushing red that this was having to happen in front of fucking Dalton.

"What's her name?"

"Nickie."

"See, you never told me about any Nickie."

"Because she's not important, she's just a fri--"

"A friend that you ran off with and missed Dalton's performance." Miranda sighed, and then placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "Just go stand by Dalton so we can get a cute picture of you two together, okay?" She asked as she lifted her hand away and waved her hand in Damien's direction.

There was really one thought through his head at that moment and it was basically just...

Oh fuck, he's gonna kill me.

But Damien still hesitantly sidled his way over and up to Dalton's side. There was an uncomfortable smile on his face as he looked in his mother's direction, and then she made a motion with her hand for Damien to scoot closer to Dalton.

He did as directed, the uncomfortable smile still plastered on his face as he scooted closer, until his arm was almost brushing against Dalton's.

Yep.

He was dead meat.

mood
i'm in danger

location
Arts Fest

outfit
classy

playing...
98 Degrees

by Arrested Youth​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Stassi, Dalton

tags
AkuTheWolfOkami Xed

º º code by ditto º º

 

[qunqun]

MOOD: Interesting.

OUTFIT: Flowy white dress

LOCATION: School

basics

MENTIONS:
Stassi

INT:

tags

TL;DR Bitching n moaning.

tl;dr

Katya

Unlike how she appeared to her sister, Katya really didn’t want Stassi to show up for her fucking concert bullshit.

Listen, she loved her sister. Sort of. Kind of. Well, growing up, the ghost of her had been in the house. Permeating through everything. And her parents - because adopted parents were JUST as real as birth parents Stassi for fucks sake did you grow up in the 1700s - were always comparing her to her older adopted sister.

That is to say, she was always favorable to Stassi. But, that also meant that Stassi had become a bit of a cryptid monster in Katya’s eyes. Someone to fear. Don’t fuck up like Stassi or else you’re going back onto the streets of the Ukraine.

Their family was totally unproblematic. No family therapy sessions needed here.

And her songs were usually pretty fun. Danceable. She didn’t want her estranged sister to kill the good vibes. And Stassi had the habit of killing every rare good mood Katya’s parents were in anyway out of spite.

So, she was very happy that Stassi wasn’t showing up. But that wouldn’t be good. See, Katya couldn’t be outwardly showing how much she absolutely despised her older sister, because then that would be bad publicity. Couldn’t make a scene. So, what does she do? She makes it seem like she wants Stassi to go so that Stassi then doesn’t want to go. (Because her older sister lives to spite her).

There, problem solved. And, now, she knew what Stassi wanted: to get out of family dinner and... Well. Fair. She hated family dinner too.

She really liked the maid and the tutors she’d been given her entire life. Liked talking to them way more than her parents. With her parents, it was the same type of fake and forced politeness and cheerful moves for PR: smile for the cameras, if you will.

And if Stassi did show her face? Well, she could always just pretend to be super happy to see her sister in the crowd. Honestly, it didn’t require that much effort. Katya was already putting on a big show for everyone so a little more acting wouldn’t be too much sweat off her back, but it would be preferable if she didn’t have to do that. People can generally tell when a performer is being inauthentic, after all.

It was fine. It’d be fine. Katya fixed her hair in the dressing room mirror. Alright. Show time.

She went on stage. Just her, nobody else. She opened her mouth and began singing, something slow and soft to match her vocals, she knew how to to make instrumentation fit her voice, after all.


It occurred to her just a bit belatedly that her parents might be a bit mad that she was singing in English rather than Russian. But her first language had been banned in the house so what would she care. Ukranian wasn’t good for Russian PR. Neither was a heavily accented Russian, but a cute little accent was fine. That showed vulnerability and proved that she had been adopted from the Ukraine, that her family hadn’t just been bullshitting.

She walked down from the stage after her performance, feeling pretty good about the whole thing. She had padding, and she was fairly certain that her parents would hate if she revealed that her actual plan was to do this for a living. She wasn’t like others who might need this to live, she knew that. Teenage rebellion at its core was just during your teenage years, she knew that. But… Did that mean she wanted to take over her parents’ work as fate seemed to have decided for her plan in life at the ripe age of 8? Fuck no. Not in a million years.

She cleaned herself up and went to go meet her family. Fixed up her makeup a bit. She painted on a smile and went to meet her parents.

code by valen t.

 

[Kitsune2202]

Dangerously Soft
Amethyst Jones

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their status to:
It all comes down to this...

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their outfit to:
Project Outfit

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their location to:
Apartment->Arts Fest

@If.U.Seek.Amy has mentioned:
Remi, Nate, Trevor, Dei

@If.U.Seek.Amy has interacted with:
Charlie ( geminiy ) Ash ( Winona ) Lucky ( gh0stwriter )

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Amy laughed as Charlie spoke about her manager, song, and of course the tumblr stands. She couldn't help it with how she was talking about them and the finger guns didn't help either. Then again she wouldn't be the Charlie she knows and loves without all the extra antics. This road to fame would be so boring without her. "Down it is!" She grinned.

Though sadly Amy knew all about what Charlie was talking about in dealing with her manager and the demand for underaged sex appeal. Have you seen some of Amy's music videos? If you didn't actually know Amy you could definitely mistake her for being one of those girls who were super confident, and sexy and had the guys eating out of the palm of her hands. One of her videos she poured a bottle of water over her face in the equivalent of a bikini top for heavens sake. Like...why?

Maybe because Amy's natural personality was so...not sexy that they felt they needed to sex up her music persona so damn much. Much to any fans surprise who really looked into her, or once she was allowed to do more things of her choosing they'd find out that no she was not sexy, just a geek who happens to be able to sing pretty good. For now though? Apparently sexy R&B singer it is.

She wondered why managers where like that. Were all managers of female artists (Seemed like it from a twitter convo a few months ago), was is all managers in general (But she never hears the guys complain), or were they just settled with the few unlucky ones? They couldn't really be too picky this early in their careers all things considered.

Charlie's song was absolute fire even as off from her actual personality the premise was. Then again that was something she also understood. Her first few songs weren't anything like her either. In fact only recently were her songs really deeply connected to her.

But some fans would eat up the songs regardless of actual connection so long as it was delivered the right way. Some fans would take a whole different meaning from it in fact. For that reason Amy tended to stay off sites like tumblr or any fanfiction type sites. She wasn't interested in people's ship of the day for her. The tabloids and TMZ did that enough for her with anyone she was spotted out in public with more then once for more then five minuets at a time.

This was also why she'd kept a low profile with Remi so far. Not a secret mind you because she didn't like the idea of secret relationships especially seeing the toll it was taking on Trevor. No not secret, but not shouting from the roof tops either, so they could have some privacy while they built and decided what this was really going to be, if it was going to be something special.

Nate had been super easy to keep out of the public eye because she was basically still a nobody at that point. She was just a sophomore with a single song released and he was a painter. Nate was also just a very low profile and laid back dude back then, so it wasn't like he wanted or looked for attention. Now they both seemed to always be in some sort of drama...damn how times change. They'd both seemingly strayed so far from the people they'd been only a year ago. It was so strange...to look at him, or look in the mirror, and see the same face, but feel completely different. She liked to think at their core they hadn't changed, but maybe they had? Maybe that's why things would've never worked out in the long run anyways. Or maybe they never knew each other as well as they thought.

Then their was Dei who was her first public relationship, and boy did he make sure it was PUBLIC. Now Evie has told her it was all to get back at her, and while parts of her believe her (though she will never admit that to her) she can't help but also take into account that's just Dei. He was public with every other girl he dated, so for Amy to have been different would've been weird. All the Insta posts, paparazzi's everywhere but rather then run or hide from them he'd strike a pose or just laugh, magazine covers over the summer...it really blew up her popularity as well and rose her from obscurity.

Hell when their school won their homecoming game and interviewers came to snap pictures of him and ask him questions she was also right there, as he asked, on his arm like a trophy. She used to believe she was the prize, not realizing it meant apparently agreeing to be just an object...a toy. And like all toys would get discarded eventually.

So this time with Remi...she needed a break before entering the limelight again with someone. She needed to know what this was before the public decided for them, because he was yet another big name. The media would be buzzing all over her transition from Dei to Remi especially since it's no secret the two were friends. Are friends? She didn't really know how well they were going to bounce back from their fight.

It should be none of her concern, but considering she felt like she was the cause she couldn't help the twist of guilt in her stomach upon thinking about it. Luckily Amy didn't have much time to wallow in such thoughts because Charlie stood up giving her a quick hug pulling her back into the moment at hand before running off to finish getting ready. Amy of course followed suit because if twitter was any indication then everyone else was already there.

In the Uber the good times kept rolling as Charlie pretended to be one of those annoying photographers snapping a million and ones photos, but since it was just Charlie all Amy could do was laugh and strike silly poses pulling her in for a few of her own. Moments like this she wished could last forever. She wanted forever with Charlie more then anyone else in this place. Eventually they settled a bit and Charlie leaned her head on her, “I love you, Ames. We’re going to kill this.”

Amy smiled back even if she wasn't looking at her and closed her eyes a moment giving her hand a gentle squeeze, "Love you too Char. I know we are. This, the tour, everything." The world was going to be theirs and while Amy had doubts about just about everything in her life...but that was something she could and did believe in.
___________________________________________________
Once they arrived at the Festival Charlie gave her one last pep talk was and then they went off on their separate ways because of course they couldn't be lucky enough to be performing on the same stage. Then again with so many music students and performances there had to be multiple stages or else there was no way this would fit as a one day only event. The festival was massive just like it was the previous years. She still remembered her freshman year and how absolutely blown away and honestly shaken up by nerves she'd been. It was a lot of pressure to put on someone who'd only been working on music for like 3 months at that point.

She walked around with a tiny brochure map she'd grabbed on the way in trying to figure out which stage was hers and starting to slightly panic that she'd be late when she spotted two familiar faces. Faces that normally she'd feel content even a bit happy to see, but happiness was not the feeling that washed over her as she watched the scene before her unfold.

Her hand on his arm, his hand caressing her cheek...it looked intimate, it looked close. Normally it wouldn't have mattered at all to her since Ash did seem visibly kinda upset even from this distance, but after that whole ThirstTea thing (which she was originally ignoring until the sight before her) it tugged at her heart, and not in a good way.

Ash...even if nobody else knew...Ash was taken. She wasn't single and last she checked Lucky wasn't her boyfriend.

Now she could've been wrong because her and Trevor were secretly dating, but Amy felt like Trevor would be more broken up or would've told her if they'd called it quits. Plus Ash knew was it was like to be cheated on or at least suspected, so why would she even put herself in a position like this? Sure maybe they were just friends comforting each other, but her and Trevor never looked like this when they comforted each other and they were best friends.

Nope she didn't like it. It didn't feel right, and maybe she was being overly sensitive and emotional coming from what happened with her...but she'd learned from the situation with Dei that maybe where their was smoke there really was fire. But she couldn't SAY that. She couldn't say anything. She'd made a promise not to tell anyone, and she'd keep it, but she also wasn't about to just watch her best friend potentially get cheated on and do nothing.

So pretending to still be searching for her stage she made her way over to them hoping they'd notice her, or at least not do anything regrettable before she could intervene. Luckily some little kid beat her to the punch, and the two instantly separated. Amy left out a sigh of relief she didn't realize she was holding in.

What can she say she liked Ash, and she liked Lucky, but she adored and loved Trevor. Though in this situation she wouldn't even be mad at Lucky if he did like her or was trying to make a move on Ash because Ash was the one who should've been shutting this down. She was the one who knew she was in a relationship, not Lucky. Also as much as she blamed Ash she blamed Trevor too. She'd warned him that situations like this could happen when you don't tell people you are taken. Maybe now he'd believe her and do something about it.

Sadly by this point she was basically in front of them as well, so she went ahead and forced a smile and wave at the two of them, "Oh hey guys fancy seeing you here?" She commented. The only reason she didn't high tail it out of there was out of fear that'd it'd look weird if she tried to run away after getting so close and that it'd be super noticeable and awkward.

"I heard your performance was great!" She added in trying to talk her own nerves away, "I'm actually headed to mine now." was it working? Of course not...

º º code by ditto º º