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

[ohdittoh]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

“Little circle, little circle, one big cir-cle, little circle, little circle, one big cir-cle, little circle, little circle, one big cir-cle, double-u, double-u, double-u, double-u nipplenipplenipplenipplenipplenipplenipple, e-e-e-e-e.”

As the song he was singing beneath his breath finished and his Sharpie completed the last e, Lin leaned back from he mirror with a wide, proud grin on his face, his eyes alight with a glow not unlike that in the eyes of a new father or of a sculptor whose last five years’ work had finally come to fruition.

Mrs. Piggy had nothing on this pig, luhmao — it was the best damn pig ever, lop-sided eyes, three sets of nipples (and an extra lone ranger nipple to the left), extra-long tail, and all. It almost brought a tear to his eyes (sniffle).

But…

His brows furrowed, and he tapped the pen’s cap on his chin, squinting at the image he’d created as Zeph shuffled in the background. “Hmmm…” Something was missing. He leaned forward again, poising his pen on the glass of the mirror once more. As he began to meticulously scrawl letters in the metallic ink, he sounded, beneath his breath, “Aaaaangel…S-e-r-v-a-n-t-i-s…wuuuuuuuz…heeere…ex-cla-ma-tion point…ques-tee-own mark…period.”

Proudly leaning back from the mirror once more, he blossomed his free hand outward, opening his palm and wiggling his fingers in the direction of his graffiti. “Booom-shaka-em-effin’-lacka.”

"Dude, look at this.”

He looked over his shoulder to see his larger friend investigating a mysterious-looking metal box. Lin’s eyes widened curiously, and he dropped his pen carelessly in the sink — rattle, rattle. He approached Zeph with an intrigued expression.

“Gross,” Zeph commented.

“Duuuuuude…” A look of confused amazement came over his face. “Ewwwww…why do they have that in here?” He narrowed his eyes at the thing. “I didn’ even know these existed…it’s like those weird condom machines at gas stations, but instead it’s for…” He looked over at Zeph. “Dude, you put a quarter in and it gives you something to shove up your hoohaa…like a gumball machine but instead of gum it’s coochie stuffing,” he concluded wisely, then he looked back at the machine.

“Why do they sell tampons in the..."

Lin was too busy studying the contraption to listen to Zeph, or hear the realization in his voice.

"Lin —“

There was a squee as the hinge of the door flung open, and then a high-pitched screech from the doorway.

In sync with Zeph, Lin looked to the door with wide eyes. “10-40, geezer alert,” Lin muttered. “Shit.”

It was an old, wrinkled lady, crooking an arthritic, red-painted finger at the two. “Boys! There’s boys in the ladies’ room!”

Ladies’…

All at once, it dawned on Lin.

A rush of adrenaline shot through him, and he looked at Zeph. “DEPLOY EVASIVE ACTION!” he yelled, looking at Zeph with wide eyes as he took a few quick, sideways steps towards the woman.“AGENT ZEPTUHPUG, YOU BIG, SEXY BEAST, YOU JUST STAND THERE AND ACT LIKE A TREE, I’VE GOT THIS.“ He held his hand up soothingly, then looked at the woman.

For a beat, he smiled at her, taking a step towards her and drawing in a breath as though he was going to try and talk his way out of this.

And then he reached out, snatched her purse, and — YEET — threw it across the bathroom.

His feet took off as soon as the bag left his hand, turning sideways to squeeze past the elderly woman and rush out into the hall, his head ducked. “GO, GO, GO!” he yelled as he booked it as fast as he could, hardly even dodging people and mores ramming his shoulders into them to get past. The words were directed at Zeph, but he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them.

Adrenaline.

It was flowing through him like a drug. The further he got away from the bathroom, the wider his grin grew, his panic shifting to exhilaration as his legs padded as hard as they could go against the carpeted floors of the theater.

He cackled happily, whooping every so often as he continued to push through people until finally, he jerked to the left and shoved open the door to the side door to the parking lot with his shoulder.

Spilling onto the sidewalk and stumbling a few steps sideways, the boy laughingly looked back through the glass doors. He took a couple of steps towards them, peeking back through them to look inside, and when he saw no one following him, he jumped back and threw his fists in the air. “WOO!” he cheered. “Fuck yeah!” He slammed his fists at his side and gave an intense pelvic thrust, then pressed his hands to his knees and gave a few ceremonious twerks. “Hell yeah!”

Laughing, he took a few steps back, and then he realized, and his face fell slightly. “Oh shit.”

No one had been following him.

He turned away from the door and pulled his phone from his pocket, walking to a white SUV and leaning against the side as he searched for Zeph’s contact. He pressed the call button, leaning off the side of the SUV for a moment to prop himself up with his elbow.

After a moment, the dial tone turned off, and Lin immediately launched into, “Testing, testing, one, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, one-hundo — you read me, Evergreen?” Looking up at the sky hopefully, he asked, “You still alive? Do you need your big, strong Lin to come rescue you?”

mood
DEPLOY EVASIVE MANEUVER LMAO

location
the celestial theater

outfit
feesh

playing...
voldemort

by lindsay kay​

mentions
angel hery i want you to see this

interactions
zeph

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

trevor callaghan​

The nerves drummed in Trevor’s throat in the moment before Ash opened her eyes. A million worried thoughts rushed through his head.

Roses — he’d gone with roses.

Feck, was that good?

He really should’ve very subtly asked, Hey, if you were to grow up and become a flower, which flower would it be?

Roses…what if her answer would’ve been more like, Marigold, or Lily, or…

Or…ah…

Some…other kind of flower.

He…didn’t know kinds of flowers.

If she hates this, it’s a joke. Hahaha, yeah, a prank. I’ve got a goooood sense of humor, yep. Hahaha, funny, haha, good one.

His smile twitched nervously as she opened her eyes.

She just stared at them.

Feck.

She looked up to his face, stunned.

Feck.

Feckfeckfeckshehatesthem.

Nonononono.

“I, ah…,” he started.

But her expression broke into a wide, excited smile, and she threw her arm around him in a half-hug. "Oh my god, Trevor, this is like..." She shook her head, and she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "If we weren't in public I'd, like, totally start making out with you or something but ummm…”

And it dawned on him.

OH.

HELL.

YEAH.

Score!

Score, score, fecking score.

He still had it.

Er, he had it in the first place. Yeah.

Great wooing skills. Great woman skills.

He was a top tier lover boy — certifiably.

(Thank you, Nate. You were officially forgiven for the condoms.)

(Not for the photo-stealing, though.)

(You were still fecking dead for the photo-stealing.)

His smile broke into a more confident version of itself, and he chuckled slightly.

No, ya know, you could still make out with me. I wouldn’t mind.

I’ve got a van right there. The van is private, lookey there.

You know, I hear this time of year is just right for minivan sex.

According to my sources.

If ya want to.

Nothin’ like bein’ tits out in a soccer mom whip named a woman's name in the parkin’ lot of a theater durin’ a school event, I hear.

He said none of those things, though. He wasn’t intoxicated in any form, so you were spared from viewing what would ensue if he were.

She went to take the roses, but she had some other, pitiful flower in her hand. A tingling in his neck told him not to ask about it, but she felt the need to explain it anyway. “Lucky, umm…” Trevor’s chest tightened at the name, and he swallowed hard. The heart drumming in his chest stumbled. “…he got me this, like, earlier — like as good luck for the performance or whatever…” She laughed slightly.

Amy’s text came to mind again.

When I walked up they had seemed...close. And Like idk he was probably trying to like comfort her or something cause like I said she looked a bit distressed but, idk it didn't look like us when I'm upset you know?

Shit.

Goddamn it.

“U —…heh…,” he chuckled tensely.

No.

He scolded himself inwardly, and he forcibly shoved the detail to the back of his mind with a slight shake of his head.

Gen had said, Ignore your feelings.

Ignore his first thoughts. Ignore everything that he didn’t want to think about.

Fake it til I make it.

And so, he breezed past it, forcing himself to focus on what Ash said next. "I didn't know we were, like, getting things for each other. I didn't, umm…I didn't, like, get you anything.”

He quickly shook his head, breathing a chuckle. “No, no, it’s a — it’s a me thing, I don’t mind,” he said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “I don’t, ah…” He coughed. “I don’t expect anything — it’s my treat, as they say.”

She reached to take the flowers, but then stopped short. “Wait,” she said.

He looked at her confusedly.

“This is like…this isn’t for your roommates or something, is it? Like, it’s for me…? I mean like if it is, it’s really pretty and they’ll love it.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, one-third’s for each of them, and I only surprised my girlfriend with them so she could meticulously inspect the roses she wasn’t receiving,” he drawled sarcastically, and then he laughed slightly. “No, seriously, they’re yours, an’ I’ll take your assessment as a compliment to my, ah, undying impressiveness,” he kidded somewhat awkwardly.

There was a tension in his shoulders that’d set in in spite of his efforts, but he drew in a deep breath and gave a shrug to try and release it as he reached over and tugged open the passenger side door for her.

Mind the floormats, he requested internally. I just vacuumed them yesterday, and I worked really fecking hard to get them spotless.

Do you like them? They're hot, right?

Super hot?

Yeah, I know. Clean floormats are a total panty-dropper.

He made his way to his side and popped open the door. After dropping himself into the seat and buckling in, he grabbed his keys and shoved them into the ignition, then turned the key —chhchhchhvrooom. In his nervousness, he tried to impress her by doing a task with each hand — checking that the windows were rolled up with his left by pulling each of the switches up whilst shifting into reverse with his right. Instead, he wound up fumbling for both of the things, and he looked over at the stick shift with a soft sigh, grabbing it and completely abandoning the window-checking.

He glanced over at her to make sure that she was ready, then reversed out out of the spot, shifted into drive, and drove out of the parking lot.

It should be noted that Trevor’s nerves had many modes, but all of them involved a certain level of ohwaitfeckitseemsthatI’veforgottenhowtoexistseminormallywellshite. In this case — at this level of nervousness — he was now completely forgetting how to speak like a normal person.

In other words: cue the incessant chattering.

“I’m not giving you any hints as to where we’re goin’,” he began, glancing over at Ash, “but I promise it’s not Walmart this time, even though the deals are as tantalizin’ and titillatin’ as ever.”

He chuckled at his own words for a moment, and then awkwardly cleared his throat. He looked down at his radio for a second, then back at the road. “Ah, feel free to turn it on tha radio if you’re not into…ah, feck, what’s his —“ He squinted at the view behind his windshield as he tried to remember the word he was looking for. In order to jog his memory, he began to sing beneath his breath surprisingly in-tune but very rushed, bouncing his head quickly from side to side as he ran through it. “Come as you are, as you were, as I something, something, da da daaa —“ When he realized what he was looking for, he lifted a sweaty hand from the wheel to snap his fingers, then replaced it. “Nirvana,” he concluded, “that’s it — yeah, tha music settings’s your oyster. It’s got bluetooth if ya want to connect. Idn’t that nifty? I’ve always been amazed by Bluetooth.”

He cleared his throat, realizing the assumptions she might make at his choice in music. “And no, before you ask, some fella I smoke with decided to do some feckin’…renovation on my glove compartment an’ placed that CD on top of it, an’ before you ask about that, no, I did not give him permission, an’, ah, the CD was bought during freshman year, which we don’t talk about. Freshman year Trevor isn’t real Trevor; he was Trevor Lite, alright? Trevor For Dummies. I’m not the same guy, and it wasn’t me who thought that I’d be the coolest thing since sliced bread if I started ta try an’ tap into the ‘skater’ aesthetic, includin’ the leather pants and leather jacket and Def Leppard t-shirt, just because I thought I was hot shit for getting my hardship license and a minivan, then tried to teach myself to skateboard only to sprain both of my ankles, fuck up one of my tendons by slammin’ it against the front of the board tryin’ to scoot it along the ground, an’ wind up on crutches for all of the two weeks before we headed off for winter break — an’ then, yes, tried to claim that I’d not sprained it but had in fact broken it when I tried to save a kitten. It wasn’t me.” He chuckled —

And then his eyes widened and he let out a soft gasp as he realized what he just let slip. “Actually, it wasn’t him, either — that didn’t happen, forget I mentioned it,” he tried. His smile fell in favor of a suspicious look at Ash. “Don’t. Ask. Charlie for photographic proof, please, thank you.”

As he shifted his gaze back to the road, he shook his head, replacing his smile. “Point is,” he tried to segue back to the task at hand, “help yourself if ya don’t like the ambiance.”

mood
deploying operations of the "be a good boyfriend" variety

location
rachel

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

playing...
some nights (intro)

by fun.​

mentions
lucky, amy

interactions
ash

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

nickie abrams.

Every eye in the room was on her.

Maybe some had been looking down at their phones, disinterestedly listening to “the act after that one girl” because they had nothing better to do, or whispering to their friends, or staring at the ceiling, or looking at the lights or the bassist or the pads player or the hot drummer, but in her silence, she knew for goddamn sure that every eye in that audience and every eye of the people behind her and every eye of the people behind that curtain were all latched onto her, waiting in suspense and placing bets on what her next move was going to be. Surely, they could see the panic in her eyes, were all thinking, Oh fuck, here she goes again.

Classic Nickie.

This was her chance, the one time that their eyes would be boring into her and waiting for her downfall that she could rise above and prove that she was more than that. That she was more than what they assumed about her. That she was more than a girl who crumbled under an ounce of pressure. That she was more than a walking “Daddy issues” stereotype. That, sure, she might be impulsive, and stupid, and — and desperate, and needy, and — and all of that shit, but at the end of the day, she was okay, and she was strong, and she — she was holding it fucking together, because she was over that shit.

So why couldn’t she find the fucking words? Why couldn’t she muster her voice? Why were the walls closing in, why were the people in the crowd becoming this monstrous, thousand-eyed blob of hecklers, why was the beat that the guitarist and the drummer and the pads player were playing contradicting the metronome of her slamming heart, why was she still on the same fucking measure that she was ten seconds ago, and why the hell was she just fucking proving them right?

“Nicks! Nicks! Nicks!”

The voice from the crowd was a familiar one, only faintly registering in her ears. Her heart skipped a beat, and she looked up with wide, glassy eyes. Her eyes caught on the figure chanting immediately, just as he cheered on the people to “say it with me!”. Backlit by the red light of the unforgiving digital clock at the back of the concert hall, she couldn’t make out any of the details of him, but she knew who it was.

Fucking Hunter.

“Nicks!” cheered the crowd, following Hunter’s lead, clapping to the syllable. “Nicks! Nicks! Nicks! Nicks!”

The tears in her eyes grew thicker at each sounding of her nickname. It was like there were a thousand bitter exes cheering back at her, cheering for the fragile tower to fall, cheering for her to prove them right, please prove them right. Her chest grew tighter. Shakily, she drew in a deep breath, but she found herself unable to let it out.

So this was it. This part, where they were all chanting her name, was the part where she crumbled and broke in front of a thousand people, in front of all of the fucking cameras and classmates and critics and parents and bored art freaks, to absolutely fucking zero of them’s surprise. This was the part where she sobbed, said her own eulogy in form of a whispered apology into the microphone, and stumbled off the stage. This was the part where she had to call her dad and her mom, had to lie and tell them it went fine when she really meant I fucking cried onstage, made a public embarrassment of myself, of my school, and I’m definitely going to lose my fucking scholarship, so lots of love from your little fuckup and I’ll see you soon, made her way to the bathroom and gagged, puked her pathetic guts out into a porcelain bowl while fucking self-pitying over something that was all her goddamn fault, that she’d fucked up, because she knew deep down that they were the consequences of nothing more than her own fucking actions.

Something caught in her throat, and she knew she couldn’t swallow it without letting a tear fall, and once a tear fell, the floodgates were open, so her body refused to swallow, refused to move, refused to do anything but stare unblinkingly at the boy at the back.

There was a change in the beat, a stopping of the music’s repetition, a pause a beat, and a restart slightly slower. Confusedly, Nickie looked over her shoulder at the drummer, just as a voice from her left and echoing everyone began to sing the words that she’d forgotten.

“Keep on playing that song that I don’t like, I just wanna feel normal for the night…”

Nickie looked in the direction of the voice, her fingers still pressing down the keys from the last chord she played as the volume of them tapered off. She knew the voice, but it didn’t register who it was until she saw them: Liv. Nickie’s brows knit in confusion, her heartbeat kicking up.

What the hell was she doing here? What the fuck did she think she was doing at Nickie’s performance?

But Liv gave her a nod, and her fingers moved to the next chord without Nickie’s permission, pressing them down as Liv sang the next words: “Keep on kissing that guy that’s not my type, I just wanna feel normal for the night…”

And hearing Liv’s voice — somehow, the immediate confusion drug away the tears and the panic, and her trembling fingers somehow knew the chords, and as the last note that Liv sang rang out and the other girl leaned over to elbow her gently, Nickie suddenly recalled the words.

Swallowing hard, she drew in a shaky breath, and the two’s voices blended together as they sang, “I should go, it’s getting late, but I’ma keep on dancing ’til I feel okay…”

Nickie’s voice continued. “So keep on playing that song that I don’t like —” She lifted her hands from the piano, and she looked over a Liv, a small, unconfident smile spreading across her lips. “I just wanna feel normal for the night.”

• • • • •​

It was an odd feeling, standing up from the keyboard after an impromptu duet that came about thanks to her almost-breakdown. Her knees were gelatin, her head still confused and not quite having registered what was going on or what had happened even moments afterwards.

When the song was over, Nickie had stood, shakily thanked everyone for coming, and given a nod and a smile to Liv before walking back behind the curtains. Now that it was all over, the gravity of the situation weighed on her: she’d just…she’d just done it. She’d just done the performance, she’d just taken her last chance…

And…and she didn’t know how to feel.

She hadn’t done it alone. She had almost cried.

But…but she’d done it. And she’d wound up smiling by the end, and she’d wound up not breaking down.

She handed the microphone back to the stage manager, pressed her palms against her dress, and her eyes focused on Liv as the other girl pulled back the curtains and stepped into the florescent backstage lighting.

Now that they were offstage, the questions and confusion that Nickie had swarmed again, and her mood faded into an odd mix of emotion muddled by confusion. She drew in a deep breath, and she turned to face Liv.

She considered trying to muster a smile, but the thought fell as soon as she faced her, and instead, the first question on her mind came out:

“Why?” Her brows knit, and she pursed her lips, swallowing hard and looking at Liv’s feet. “You...knew the words and everything...you came and help me, and I just...” She looked back up at the girl with a lowered head. "Why?"

mood
...

location
backstage, post-performance

outfit
as ready as i'll ever be

playing...
normal

by nickie.​

mentions
n/a

interactions
liv, hunter (via being chanted at)

tags
Soap natsukashii

º º code by ditto º º

 

[natsukashii]

Simone Gutierrez

What made today especially chaotic for Simone was, in addition to her own performance, she was an unofficial assistant for another project completely separate from the Plastic Department. Alex swore that she needed her help and, really, how could she say no? She speicifcally requested that she help with hair and makeup. After all, she had helped Alex pick out the outfits they used for the project she was apart of with a few others. Simone didn't know who else it was, but she might've heard Chas' name in the mix somewhere.

Of course, Simone didn't care enough to remember. All she knew was that she heard it went without a hitch.

Whcih led to her balancing her time between rushing from one end of the theater to another, trying to get everything in line for her own.

And then the lights went off for her makeshift photoshoot runway. Hired models were showing off outfits she had actually picked up from the same thrift shop that Alex took SImone too. She had went there that week and decided right then and there that she wanted to showcase a different side of the fashion industry.

See, Simone had never known poverty, so she didn't know that people weren't always growing up with the best money could provide. With her parents being successful at their own careers and that in itself provided for a comfortable lifestyle, she didn't know that sometimes you had to make the most of what was made available to you. That's what SImone discovered during that one afternoon. The hours spent going through the store -- sometimes even stores -- and finding interesting designs with colors ranging light pinks to dark magentas; skirts and shirts; pants and dresses. All of it was showcased by hired models that were provided from her own pocket.

As the models went down the runway, Simone Gutierrez came from the curtain and stopped at the center. "What I wanted to showcase was you could look hot without spending a lot of money. Fashion shouldn't be expensive. You shouldn't have to be rich to look good. And don't they look good?"

As Simone asked the crowd, she gestured to the ones on her left and right, all turning around on her signal. The one-woman showcase was more about Simone's eye for beauty. And that was her expertise when it all mattered. She got it from her mother. Her mother was an icon in Mexico. Knwon for her beauty and ability to make anything sexy, Simone wanted to prove that was passed down.

"My mama couldn't be here tonight, but she used to tell me something that I always kept close to my heart: Mija, you are a star. And stars are not born without heart."

As she'd walk towards the front of the runway, she stopped at the center, looking at the crowd. Simone had to fight losing control of her emotions. For a moment, though, a few tears fell down her round face and she smiled. "This star did it, Mama!"

______________________________________​

When she had made it backstage, Simone had to take a moment.

And by a moment, that meant isolate herself for a few minutes away from the continuing chaos backstage. Even though she had just given what felt like the most emotional showing of her passion for what she was at Hollywood Arts for and what felt like the past three years not being for nothing, it wasn't stopping for her because she understood it more than anyone. Her parents were in show business, so she knew the show must go on and regardless how amazing she felt about it when she stepped behind the curtain, at the end of the day, everyone else had to get ready for the next performance. Meanwhile, Simone felt like she might collapse from the feelings swirling inside.

She had to step away from the madness or she might literally kill a bitch.

That's exactly what she did, too. She took a spot about a few yards away from the choas. She still heard it, of course,b ut it was as loud. She chose a random space as she sat on some crate. Simone just wanted to focus on her breathing. That always seemed to help her when she was younger. Whenever she became overwhelmed by anything, really, all she needed wa ssome time alone and practice some deep breathing exercises and she was good to go. Because she grew up with three older brothers, sometimes the intensity became too much. That was as relevant then as it was right now.

God, how much of herself did she really leave out on the stage? How much did she really expose herself to those in the crowd. How long sinc—-

She heard her name from a voice that belonged to someone she immediately recognized.

Seeing Alex was both a blessing for her and a curse only because she was kind of vulnerable right now. And it was since they had almost kissed when Simone last let her guard down. She didn't think she'd ever find herself in that position when her...friend was close by, yet here they were.

"Oh hey, if it isn't my personal fan," she said, offering the girl a smile and wave. "With you standing over me like that, you kinda look like a hot Amazon Warrior." Simone laughed. Even in her mental state, she still couldn't help but make comments like that with Alex. Even after the two of them hadn't spoken in a while, she didn't miss a beat

mood
Overwhelmed

location
Arts Fest

outfit
Hot in pink

playing...
Royal

by Dounia​

mentions
Family and Alex

interactions
Alex

tags
Soap

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: idk tbh

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: somewhere at the arts fest

basics

MENTIONS:
n/a

INT:
ohdittoh (Kelli)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Angel Cervantes

The tension in Angel's shoulders loosened immediately as Kelli accepted his offer to go elsewhere. His first worry was that, even if the dancer had nowhere to be, he was somehow taking her small act of kindness too far and taking up too much of her time at the once-a-year festival.

His second worry was that his breath stank.

Could Kelli tell that he was nervous? He'd read somewhere that people actually could smell fear, but that was the least of his worries when the question of his breath's smell resurfaced in his head. Should he have asked for a stick of gum, just in case?

H-hey, d-d-do you, uh... have any... g-gum...? My b-breath may or may not smell a-and I have no reason to think it d-does, b-b-but...

Obviously he brushed his teeth twice a day and all, but he'd been standing so close to her mere moments ago. Well, close as in the normal amount of distance two people engaging in conversation maintained, but if it wasn't obvious by this point, Angel didn't do a lot of spontaneous, one-on-one, and certainly not in-person conversation. Texting always ensured an easy escape route if the conversation went awry—which was a godsend—but it still couldn't beat standing a long, long distance away from people, not that he didn't like people, but they were kind of a lot.

Angel doesn't know why he feels the need to justify himself to his internal monologue, either.

And so, while the spacey teenager arbitrarily fretted about his breath and the hypothetical phrasing of questions, Kelli had done her part in leading them to the performance hall. Although it amplified his preexisting feelings of guilt, he'd done a poor job in retaining what little of the dancer's words he caught. The ability to go on autopilot and periodically offer a small smile and "hmm" was practically built into Angel from birth, but it wasn't always a very convincing guise of active listening. The more people experienced it, the more they called him out on it, which made sense and all, but that didn't stop the tiny prick of pain that came with it.

"...pretty tired from that. Not in the, uh, snoozey-sleepy-get-me-away-from-people-kinda way, but just bleggggh kinda tired. Flop out on the floor and stare at the ceiling for six hours kinda tired, ya know?”

As though dragged out of his thoughts by an invisible force, Angel was given the nerve-wracking task of playing mental catchup with the girl's words, repeating what he'd heard and processing it in his head. Albeit reasonably brief in reality, it still demanded a delayed response from Angel. An empty gaze met kind-looking, slightly expectant eyes, and the boy hardened his gaze a little as the gears in his head turned.

"Heh," he answered half-robotically, "Yeah, I know. I stare at the ceiling a lot when I'm alone."

They continued talking, and Angel frighteningly realized that the two of them had a lot in common. It was probably just the gifted little sibling syndrome talking, but hearing Kelli doubt her professionalism was jarring. It was almost like hearing himself during his initial interview for Hollywood Arts, except infinitely less mumbly and uncertain. In fact, it was a huge shock to hear he'd gotten into the school in the first place, but he supposed the art did partially speak for itself.

“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…”

Preschool?

“...school that’s such a big deal is still super freaking insane, y’know?" Angel blinked, zoning out because he was still stuck on trying to decipher the word Kelli had given up trying to come up with. Even so, he'd managed to focus long enough to see a kid about to run into her, but had somehow lost the resolve to say anything. It was almost like the tense silence from the back seat before a rear-ending, witnesses frozen like deer in the headlights.

"I don’t remember sometimes that, uh, ya know, wow, I frigging made it." Uh. Had she still not noticed the kid? Should Angel say something? It was all he could focus on, but his jaw was locked in place, refusing to open."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 —“

Angel winced, and his toes curled a little as he watched Kelli and the little kid collide. Rather hurriedly, the kid got up and sped off, leaving the two dumfounded high schoolers to look at one another. "Sorry," they said in unison, continuing their conversation after recovering from the momentary weirdness.

“But, uh, well,” she continued, “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."

Angel shrugged noncommittally. "The same applies to art, but if you tell most people that, they'll deny their own potential," he stated with a laugh, shaking his head, "I've stopped trying. Drawing with little kids is more fun anyway. They're not ashamed of being new to drawing."

"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."

Oh. That was kind of sad. Did she even realize it? Angel frowned, but did his best to hide it and keep the conversation going. "Oh, that's terrifying," he admitted, "I think I definitely prefer being self-taught. Nobody's ever gotten on my case about coloring in the lines, except when teachers would tell me to stop drawing in the lines of biology tests and stuff."

Kelli continued trying to sell the prospect of learning dance, but Angel wasn't buying it. Even with the added admission of her poor memory, the idea still seemed daunting and unreachable. He had what could seriously be considered as the world's worst short-term memory, which made an odd pair with his incredible short-term memory. It was almost a curse being able to remember everything other people couldn't, because then he looked like a creep overanalyzing distant, insignificant conversations.

Or maybe that was just another one of those things that seemed weird exclusively in his head.

She gasped suddenly with an idea, and she held up a fist and gave his shoulder a slight nudge with it. He laughed nervously, a bit caught off guard by the physical contact. “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."

"My... hm?" He mulled over Kelli's words once more, once again questioning his listening skills. He'd never heard of a five-year-old president, so he assumed he'd heard her incorrectly and moved past it. He tended to get stuck on little things like that instead of seeing the big picture, but in this case it was a means of escape from her offer (which held a lot of hidden pressure, might he add) to have a private dance session. Hard pass, but the offer was sweet; he'd have to let her down easy.

“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. Huh? Did something happen? A concerned look swept over his face, and he turned around to see if Kelli was looking at anything in particular.

“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!”

"Is Mr. Lackley a mountain lion? And is there some kind of Goldfish ban here? And, uh, that's a really nice offer, but..."

That was probably—no, definitely—the wrong response, because right after (whether by her own words or Angel's), the dance student's excitement deflated, leaving her cheeks burning red. A cold sweat traveled down his body while his heart gradually sank, an immediate sense of guilt and shame invading his headspace. He couldn't stop shouting "Say something! Say something!" to himself in his head, which just filled his head with more noise and made it even harder to think.

Time slowly, slowly passed by, the silence between the two growing even more uncomfortable by the second. Angel knew he had to say something, but the words... just... wouldn't... come...

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

Dammit! Now Angel was an asshole and now he didn't get any credit for at least wanting to make Kelli feel less embarrassed. More words crossed his mind, and he almost formed a coherent thought amid all the static, but he just didn't make it fast enough. Again.

“Oh, look, we’re here!”

And that they were. And just as expected, they weren't seating the crowd for Jet Blue Neon or whatever the heck's performance yet. However, that did little to stop the band's guitarist's little sister from overflowing with eagerness anticipating the probably crazy-loud show. She held up a phone, to which Angel stared at dubiously.

“Can I, uhm, get a selfie?” Oh! Right. He hated those. "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…” Geez... she was so nervous about it. Angel hated that even more.

You seem sweet, Kelli, but you kind of brought this one on yourself.

"Sure!" he replied, because he was a people pleaser, even if he was awful at it most of the time. He put on a big smile, despising his reflection in the camera. His shameful staring contest with himself on the phone dragged on as Kelli hesitated, leaving him no other option but to instead look directly at the camera so his reflection could end up staring into the viewer's soul or something. That was pretty sci-fi-horrorish in and of itself.

He could only hold the smile for so long, though; as Kelli's phone dangled in the air, Angel poked a finger out and tapped the button, which snapped an innocently-smiling selfie of the awkward pair. He almost wanted to say sorry for it, but for the first time, he didn't even feel like the most socially awkward one in the room. Of course, that was only temporary, as he'd been doing a pretty poor job of maintaining normal conversation thus far.

"You know, you don't have to be so embarrassed all the time," he dared to assert, his cheeks flushing red, "You're allowed to be funny and like, um..." How do you say "quirky" without sounding ironic or annoying? "...'weird'."

His cold sweat grew even more uncomfortable as he mentally shrunk away, his fight or flight kicking in upon eye contact with the sophomore. His one statement alone felt like total overstepping, but if he took it back, he'd have just looked like an ass. "But, uh, what do I know?" he added in a laughing, harshly self-deprecating tone, "I only have, like, three friends." He cleared his throat again, which Kelli had to have been getting tired of by now.

"I'm just saying because..." Because? What because? He couldn't even remember what he was trying to say. Actually, he shouldn't have said anything at all. Well, that's not true. He should've, but it was hard, and he'd probably already managed to go too far and doom himself socially beyond salvaging, which was glaringly evident based on his shifty eyes alone. "Well, like, I don't wanna make you feel bad or anything because I get lost and space out a lot, and I don't mean to look all weirded out, and now that I'm saying this, all of this sounds like way less of a big deal than I'm making it out to be, but I'm stuck now, so I don't know where exactly I'm going, so if you want, you should interrupt me so we can go find food somewhere."

Pause. Catch breath. "Do you think they got food trucks this year? I hope they did. I could really use a burrito." Hehe. Forced smile. Had Kelli already forgotten everything he said? He really, really hoped she did.

code by valen t.

 

[AkuTheWolfOkami]

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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

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  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

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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

Though it seemed that Stassi had lost a lot, and in some capacity, she had, in the grand scheme of it the only thing she had lost was her mother and her status. Her uncle Mikhail had been a far better father than her biological father had ever been. She didn’t know the exact relationship that Katya had with their father, but she was sure it couldn’t have been any different than what she experienced. The man was cold. Distant. Militant.

Mikhail was a much better father figure. Though her mother had been raising a child that wasn’t her own and had been distant just as well, Stassi could always feel the warmth from the otherwise stoic woman. She was hurting. She was in a marriage with no love, raising a child that wasn’t hers. Yet Anastasia could always sense there was no resentment from her. Besides, if it wasn’t for her, she wouldn’t be an Olympic gold medalist. As much as she despised Katya, she secretly prayed that Vera was loving towards her.

So, in truth- Anastasia hadn’t lost much. She stilled retained a large sum of wealth. She gained a decent father figure. She gained success. And for the most part, she even retained her status. Maybe not in St. Petersburg. Maybe not via inheritance. But whether as Perova or Unzhakova, her named carried weight.

Katya on the other hand had more to lose. They couldn’t do anything about Stassi. She was blood. They could write her out of the will, but that would do more damage than it would good. Besides Stassi had no interest inheriting that company of his. Katya on the other hand? She stood to lose so much more.

Stassi should have taken pity on her. She guessed some part of her did. Some part of her felt that they should embrace their sisterhood and take everything from Ilya. She just couldn’t. Any time she looked at Katya- all she could think was she replaced me.

Oh no, sister, don’t worry about it.

She hated hearing her sister speak Russian. Not for the reason you would normally think, that it sounded awful, it was the exact opposite. Her Russian sounded like you would expect of a Native Speaker, another reminded that this Ukrainian born brat had taken her place.

I was trying to find Mother and Father. Did you manage to catch my performance?

As genuine as it sounded, to Stassi it felt more like a taunt. They both knew that she had never planned to go, and she had said just that in their message exchange. So that question served no more than to poke her and taunt because they both knew that she would get reprimanded by their parents. In fact, she probably could assume that by that remark Katya didn’t have a single care if she had showed up.

It’s okay that you missed it.

Shall we go find mother and father together?

She was not going to blow up. She wouldn’t let Katya win so early in the day. It was a long day ahead and she already wasn’t looking forward to it. She’d need to at least have some fun before she dare took a loss.

“Yeah, let us go find mother and father,”

she responded in English after her sister had started off. Her voice was barely audible as if she hadn’t been trying to be heard amongst the noise. She was going to try to regain her composure before she continued this war of attrition with her.

With a long sigh, she wrapped one of her long fingers around the back of her neck and rubbed it slowly before falling behind the Ukrainian terror.

It was a good performance, but I’m sure you’ll hear the details over dinner, you are going to that, yes? I think that mother and father are expecting you, especially considering you missed my performance.

Now this caught her attention and caused her to raise her head and a devious smile played on her lips. Katya new that Stassi was trying to avoid that dinner like a cockroach hiding from light. But what Katya hadn’t known was that she had devised a plan for this situation. If she was going to be forced to go to dinner, fine. She would make sure that it was the worst time for everyone.

She closed her eyes and let out a long, exaggerated sigh going back into Russian,” Yeah yeah, I’m sure I’ll catch it on youtube or the school’s website. I’m sure you did amazing doll.” She bit her lip looking off to the side,

“Of course I’m going to dinner. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m bringing Jace too as my date. He is you know… family. I’m looking forward to it, actually.”

She noticed her father out of the corner of her eyes and skipped to catch up with her sister before stopping short of her father,

“Papa, mother. Lovely to see you all.”

The look on her father’s face was one of extreme displeasure and yet Anastasia only offered the gentlest of smiles when she kissed both sides of his cheeks and did the same for their mother who seemed rather happy to see her. The two parents greeted their adopted daughter in their usual fashion before their father spoke.

Anastasia, I didn’t see you at your sister’s performance.

Ilya began, his Russian screeching at her ears. He had a raspy voice as if he had been smoking cigarettes all his life, but that wasn’t the case. Though he did indulge in a cigar or two, his voice had gotten that way from a throat injury in the military. It was endearing to some of his clients and peers.

“Father, I was backstage in a dressing room watching,”

she stated gently with a bright smile. It was only half a lie. She was in a dressing room, but she wasn’t watching her sister’s performance.

He shuffled a bit after she had spoken, clearly not expecting that answer, and the stoic countenance of Stassi met parallel with the averted eyes of Ilya,

” But shouldn’t we be celebrating the amazing job our lovely Katya did? In a school of hundreds of singers, she really did a great job proving as to why this wasn’t a useless endeavor.”

There was no venom in her words – in fact, her words conveyed no emotion at all. Her words were dry. Almost if they had been spoken by a robot.

She didn’t feign a smile nor fake a laugh. She was not a jester for this family, and she would never play that role. If Katya wanted to play chicken, Stassi wasn’t going to blink.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Winona]

Adriane Holloway

Following Evie's silly little fashion show, Adriane found herself with basically nothing to do with the Arts Festival. Sure, she could've wasted her time by visiting some of her friends' performances, but to be perfectly honest... Adriane didn't care enough to show any sort of support to them.

Maddie was doing something with Jared, Chas' had one of his silly little middle school films or whatever, and JJ was dancing which like, eww. Clearly, dance was the lowest of the low in this school when it came to the different departments. Dancing wasn't going to get the girl anywhere in life.

Such a pity, too, because she was quite pretty. Although with that childish little temper of hers, Adriane could easily see JJ being kicked off of a photoshoot within the first few minutes.

So, rather than attending any of their silly little performances, Adriane instead found herself wandering aimlessly through the theater. If she'd brought her own car, she would've left as soon as her performance was over -- but alas, Adriane found herself stuck here because she'd been foolish enough to arrive with Dalton, and she couldn't find him.

Of course, as was to be expected as she wandered her way through the tightly packed theater, people consistently bumped shoulders with her -- and one little girl had tugged at her dress to get Adriane's attention, called her pretty, and then ran away after Adriane gave her a breathy thanks.

Yeah, yeah, had it been anyone else, she would've snapped -- but believe it or not, Adriane had a slight soft spot when it came to kids.

And then, someone bumped into her, and started to apologize.

Started to being the keywords here, because Corey wasn't able to finish his apology when he looked and saw Adriane's face. The pale, startled look on his face almost made it look as if he'd seen a ghost, and Adriane supposed that in some ways, she was a bit of a ghost to him. A ghost of his past mistakes or whatever.

(She viewed him as a mistake, so she presumed that he viewed her in a similar way.)

“Who’s this, Corndog? Your girlfriend?” a girl next to him asked, and Adriane's attention was shifted from Corey to look over at the girl.

“No, not my girlfriend…” Corey said. “This is Adriane. She’s a...friend.”

Friend.

Corey gave her a fake smile, but Adriane didn't return it as she looked back towards the girl and who she assumed was Corey's parents.

"Adriane," she introduced herself, her tone as fake, breathy, and careless as always. A faint smile crossed her face as her gaze once again settled on the girl that must've been Corey's sister or whatever. "I really love your top," she said, even though she didn't, but hey.

She was a master of faking it until you make it.

"As Corey said, we're just friends. Pleasure to meet you all."

Now goodbye, I have better things to do.

mood
ugh

location
Arts Festival

outfit
stylish... I think

playing...
Fuck You

by Lily Allen​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Corey

tags
natsukashii

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Damien Slater

George really seemed to be pushing it with Dalton, and Damien was taking bets against himself on how long it would take before Dalton would blow up and flip the fuck out or something. His money was on probably within the next few minutes, although Dalton seemed to be strangely chiller in the presence of his father.

Maybe Dalton was scared of his dad or something.

Damien didn't really know -- it wasn't like they spent a lot of time together as a family, despite George and Miranda's insistent attempts to bring them all closer together as a family.

“I’m not going.” Dalton said in response to the whole family dinner thing, which didn't come as a surprise to Damien -- he knew that there was no way they were convincing Dalton to come.

Which obviously was fine by him. Fuck, Damien was actually a little jealous. Imagine having the balls to tell your dad no and not showing up to some shitty dinner. Obviously couldn't be Damien (although he would be able to tell his dad no, but his mom was a different story altogether).

While George reprimanded Dalton about his refusal to come, Miranda busied herself with stopping someone to ask if they could take a photo of the four of them together. It was kind of amazing, really. His mom's ability to turn her head and ignore what was happening -- ignore the harsh remarks from Dalton, ignore the days that Damien would come home with a busted lip or a bloody nose from encountering Dalton at school.

Miranda moved back to stand between her son and George, and Damien smiled in the direction of the lady with the camera as she snapped a few photos, and then his mom went to take the camera back.

"Don't be such a jackass, Kirby," Damien finally spoke up. "It's just dinner."

"Damien, language," his mother snapped as she walked back over. She clicked through the photos before putting her phone away and smiling in the direction of Dalton. "We're not going to force you to come, but it would mean the world to your father if you did. And we never got a chance to really celebrate your birthday. We can make it a... belated birthday, for you and Damien. Wouldn't that be fun?"

No, it sounded like hell.

And Damien knew that it was probably just going to piss Dalton off more, and well...

He could already feel the cracking of his bones underneath Dalton's angry fists.

mood
i'm in danger

location
Arts Fest

outfit
classy

playing...
98 Degrees

by Arrested Youth​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Dalton

tags
Xed

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Casey Clairmont

The adrenaline that had pumped through his veins on stage was starting to leave his system. And usually, after any kind of performance, people were probably all breathless and tired and like woo, that was some hard work, time to take a break, or whatever it was that boring people did.

But this was Casey Clairmont and he was anything but boring, so even as the adrenaline exited his system, he didn't feel any less energetic. He was still ready to kick some ass and uhh... ummm... jump off some stuff or whatever it might be, ya know? Yeah, he was so ready.

“You were amazing!” Avery said and unintentionally stroked Casey's already massive ego. “The singing was incredible, you were up there just like lalalala so easily and you swept the whole audience away!” Avery then turned to Bella. “Wasn’t it amazing Bella? The audience loved the song didn’t they? Oh yeah, that reminds me Casey called you Bellalalala earlier.”

Although the smile on Casey's face didn't leave, his expression was clearly one of what the fuck, Avery?

“Bellalalalala? Do I sound like some sort of song to you?” Bella asked as she jammed a finger into his chest. “And taking us out on stage, what,” she smacked his arm, and he rubbed at it with a glare in her direction, “was,” what in the world was wrong with her, “that,” a smack to his chest (although that one didn't hurt because he had such good, amazing muscles on his chest, clearly), “about? Taking us out there as if we were the performers and not yourself. We could have looked like absolute fools! L-Like complete and utter idiots! We could-could…”

As Bella trailed off, Casey had started to open his mouth to give his reasoning behind why he'd done what he had. He was fully prepared to give a nice, thorough explanation and defend his actions, but instead, Bella threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He blinked in surprise as she hugged him, and then he wrapped his arms around her to return the tight hug with a little chuckle.

“That,” Bella said as she pulled away, and then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek (and Casey totally didn't blush when she did so), “was absolutely phenomenal. Amazing, really. Just…” She pulled away slightly, but her arms remained around his neck, and his hands remained lightly on her waist. “Tu étais magnifique.”

He didn't speak French, but that seemed like quite the compliment.

"I ahh... thanks," he said. For once, the boy who typically had so many things to say that he couldn't even manage to get all of his jumbled words out, was actually speechless. He just kind of looked down at Bella, a goofy grin on his face, and no words even coming to his mind.

But then she dropped her arms from around his neck, and it was like the spell over Casey was broken, and he dropped his hands form her sides as she pulled away and turned to Avery.

“I must say, we make an excellent team. I am surprised that this went as well as it did.” Bella grinned as she took both Casey and Avery's hands. “We should celebrate! I know, um, a restaurant by the beach, we should go and have dinner. My treat for such an amazing trio and an excellent job well done.”

She released their hands, and Casey's smile faltered in a confused way as she wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Well, that is if neither one of you have plans.” Bella said. “I completely understand if you do, it was terribly rude of me to assume. You probably both have better things to do.”

"Oh," Casey responded, and then laughed. "I don't have anything after this," he explained as he picked up his guitar case, pulling the strap over his head, and started to walk away from the backstage area and outta the area. "And I really like food. Is it that fancy restaurant that's got all the fires and stuff? That's what someone was talking about when we were all let's go on a triplet date, ya know? But my sisters and Mikky were all no you're not allowed around fire at a date, and I was all boo that sucks, but ya know, they won."

To be fair, it was for the best that they'd prohibited him being allowed around fire on a date. The last thing Nellie and Cami really needed were their friends catching on fire due to Casey's recklessness.

mood
hypeeee

location
Arts Fest

outfit
Cami said no band shirts

playing...
Valentine

by Casey Clairmont​

mentions
Cami, Nellie

interactions
Avery, Bella

tags
Xed geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

kellian phelan

If Kelli wasn’t so, uh, self-conscious-slash-awkward-slash-nervous, she probably wouldn’t have dissolved into an anxious ball of murmuring by the end of that one suggestion, but alas, here she was. Ya know, her life often felt like a movie (in which she was a supporting character, but she digressed), but if it really was, this would be the moment that there would be a record scratch, the moment would freeze, and a future her would pop her head in and say, “Yep, that’s me, asking a practical stranger to take a selfie with me in the most awkward way possible. You’re probably wondering how I got to this point,” except she doubted that future her would know how she got here or even why she was doing this. Now that the suggestion had left her mouth, she wished she could take her words back. It was stupid, and weird, and she was getting too eager and in a tizzy over just the artist’s presence to the point that she was probably freaking him out, like Naomi, and with Casey and Cami. She struggled with, uh, “celebrities” — and, uh, cool people — Bella and Ronnie also probably got weirded out by her, too...and just generally strangers, too, and...well...it was just...bad.

She went to put her phone away, already assuming that he’d just glaze past that and act like it didn’t happen, but instead, the boy replied, “Sure!”

Taken aback for a moment, Kelli looked at him with surprised eyes, and then she quickly popped her phone back up, pulled up the camera again, and tapped the button to flip it around once more. She glanced over at Angel for a moment to see him smiling largely at the camera, and she looked back at her phone, smiling as well. She froze for a moment, forgetting that she was the one taking the picture, and then she tried to steady her hand, hesitating to click the button lest she capture a shaky or blurry image and have to request a redo.

Angel spared her from having to click it herself, lifting his finger to tap the screen. The screen flashed white, and the image of their faces amongst the crowd appeared in the lower left corner. Smiling at the boy for a moment, Kelli lowered her phone. “Thank you!” she said, then looked to her phone.

When she pulled up the picture, the two’s wide, somewhat awkward grins shone at her, and she nodded at them. “Looks great, thank you,” she thanked once more, and she tapped a few buttons to send the photo to her mother and father.

Wait...

She realized, once she sent the picture, that her parents were definitely here somewhere. They’d probably be somewhere in the crowd when they were allowed in.

Her brain was not the smartest and was often, in fact, one of the ditziest.

“You know,” Angel started, “you don’t have to be so embarrassed all the time.”

Kelli looked up at the boy, her wide, blue eyes blankly focused on him for a moment before the words registered.

And then, a blush blossomed on her cheeks.

Angel was blushing too now. “You’re allowed to be funny,” he continued, “and, like, um...’weird’.”

She blinked at him for a moment, the bright red blush splotching her cheeks now spreading to her ears. She was lost for words for a moment, and then she looked away. After a moment, she laughed awkwardly.

Did you read my mind?

She glanced at him. He was...trying to reassure her, yeah? Her eyes flicked away again, her blush darkening. Now, she was even more embarrassed because he knew she was embarrassed and she’d bugged him so much by it that he had to comment on it.

Had she made him uncomfortable by apologizing if she was making him uncomfortable for so much? Oh no. She tried to avoid it, but trying to avoid it had just led her to run smack into it.

Crap.

“I...,” she started, not exactly sure what to say, and she looked back at him again, a small smile frozen on her face. “Um...”

"But, uh, what do I know?" he laughed. “I only have, like, three friends."

“I doubt that’s true,” she said quietly with a soft laugh, glancing away from him and pressing her sweaty palms against the tail of her skirt. She tugged at the fabric nervously, then smoothed it out.

He cleared his throat again, which she’d gathered was some kind of nervous habit of his. "I'm just saying because...” Her eyes lifted to him again, and she inclined her head towards them, forcing herself to maintain eye contact despite her face’s heat. "Well, like, I don't wanna make you feel bad or anything because I get lost and space out a lot, and I don't mean to look all weirded out, and now that I'm saying this, all of this sounds like way less of a big deal than I'm making it out to be, but I'm stuck now, so I don't know where exactly I'm going, so if you want, you should interrupt me so we can go find food somewhere."

After a moment of rest once his words were done, she let out a soft laugh, because she didn’t really know what to do.

“Do you think they got food trucks this year? I hope they did,” Angel said. “I could really use a burrito.” He smiled a forced smile.

Kelli paused a moment, contemplating her response, but the cogs in her head refused to really cooperate beyond slowly processing what Angel had said.

He was brave for saying that to her, and it didn’t feel scolding — he did it as nice as possible. It kind of...surprised her. Like, pleasantly — she hadn’t taken him for one much to be confident enough to do anything like that, but it was good, she swore, because he was nice about it, and he was just trying to make her feel better. She realized that he hadn’t been uncomfortable, and this was all to make her more comfy around him.

But, well, she didn’t want Angel to feel bad — which she was sure was what his behavior was — so she couldn’t just not say anything and let him think that he was, uhm, going unappreciated or worse, that he had done something wrong.

So, she laughed softly again. “No, seriously dude, it’s good, you’re fine,” she said honestly, shaking her head. She swallowed awkwardly, and she met his eyes for a moment before looking away and continuing, because she couldn’t just leave it there. “T-Thanks, Angel. I mean, like, I was just, uhm, worried you, uh, I mean, I just get kind of...excited and carried away and blahda-yadda around cool people, so it’s, uhm — you didn’t look weirded out, I was just worried that you were, and, like, that I was, uhm, making you uncomfy or something, and it’s bad when that happens, so sorry for getting so embarrassed and, uhmm, thank you for letting me know. That you’re fine. And chill with me jabbering and getting so excited. It’s really nice of you, and wow, I’m stuck, too.” Her words ran more together at the end, and she laughed at herself, her blush glowing a dark red. Her face broke into a wide, reassuring smile, and she gave him a sure nod.

Something about acknowledging the, uh, room elephant (?), featuring a lot of added gibberish, redisturbed the nerves in her stomach, stirring them into a more chipper buzz. “I, uhm — yes, food, you’re right,” she agreed, laughing softly, pressing the backs of her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to absorb some of heat from them. Maybe that would help or something. “I think I, uhm, saw some trucks when Ronnie and I were coming in earlier, yeah — do you trust the food truck burritos is the bigger question,” she joked.

She glanced down at his watch, and the pulled out her phone to peek at the time. She looked over at him, cocking her head slightly. Somewhat awkwardly, she pointed over her shoulder, trying to gesture in the direction of the food trucks, but, well, she didn’t really know where she was in relation to them. She laughed softly at herself, looking at him with a smile. “You think we can make it? We’ll have to zoom...but I am pretty hungry, so regardless, we’ve gotta catch some, before or after — I don’t really care either way,” she giggled slightly, and then she added, “If you’re down to, anyways — but you’ve got other things, so I don’t wanna take up all your time. Plus, my mom and dad are also probably here, and so are yours, right, so — anyway, I’m down diddly down, yeah!” She cut herself short of blabbing on, for Angel’s sake, and she giggled slightly.

Even if he said he didn’t mind, it was a bad habit.

mood


location
the celestial theater

outfit
: )

playing...
dance

by foxes​

mentions
naomi, casey, cami, bella, & ronnie

interactions
angel

tags
hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[qunqun]

MOOD: Interesting.

OUTFIT: Flowy white dress

LOCATION: School

basics

MENTIONS:
Jace

INT:
Stassi AkuTheWolfOkami

tags

TL;DR She's a schemin'.

tl;dr

Katya

See, conversations with Katya’s family usually went this way: Katya was praised. There was a comment about how to do next time. Silence. Her mother gave her a little hug. And then over. Done. She went off to play with her dolls.

All in all, rather boring. That would’ve been her exposure to her parents for a week (minus, of course, press conferences and things where she had to make an appearance in order to maintain her status as their heir). Overall, very cold. Her mother, instead of being absolutely frigid, was more… lukewarm towards the new child.

They all knew that she was the replacement baby because her father couldn’t handle being a social pariah. It wasn’t like they were kidding themselves here.

Stassi changed this monotony of avoidance because all of the sudden, her parents were very loving and supportive to her, while shunning Stassi. Was it fucked up? Yes. Did she still get positive attention? Absolutely. So did she care? No. No she did not.

Stassi made things interesting. Which Katya liked. As much as she absolutely hated her older sister (it was fine, the feeling was mutual) she hat to admit that breaking up the monotony of daily existence was fascinating in itself.

Case in point: Stassi lying her ass off at their father. And supposedly bringing Jace along to dinner.

Her sister was truly putting a lot of stock into the idea that Katya wasn’t going to snitch: say something the lines of “ in fact, no, Stassi hadn’t been in the dressing room.” But it was making this conversation a lot funnier, and maybe making her sweat a little bit at the decision. She let the lie pass, Stassi owed her now. And hopefully they both knew it.

Jace… Jace… Gay Jace. The Jace that Stassi bitched about earlier to her. That Jace. The one that called Stassi homophobic for hating him. Really. She was bringing that Jace? He was squirrely, cowardly. She DM’d him on Twitter pretty quickly, and he just avoided the question. It made her pretty sure that either he was shitting himself with the idea of meeting her parents, or he wasn’t showing up at all.

Not a very good reflection of the family, her parents wouldn’t approve. Excellent. After all, it was a win-win scenario for Katya. Jace fucked up by being too much of an American or being too squirrely and cowardly? Made Stassi look bad, her parents would only cement the idea of Katya being the correct heir. Jace pleased her parents? It would make the dinner go much smoother, and Stassi and Jace would be in a tight pickle of having to pretend to be dating from that point on. Jace didn’t show up? The dinner proceeded as normal. Over all, it was just a bad position for Stassi to be in.

And besides, if Stassi randomly brought this American boy to dinner, their parents would surely be annoyed. Katya didn’t have to say anything in that regards.

“Thank you for coming to my show.” She dipped her head in a slight bow. Showing respect as politely as possible without lowering herself, like how she was taught. “Did you enjoy my performance?”

Either way, Katya knew she was going to receive criticism, a way that she could’ve been better. Whether they liked it or not. With Stassi around, though, they were going to be a little bit more open with how much they enjoyed.

“I think this school has done wonders for developing my skills, yes. It was surely worth the expense.” Agreeing with her sister, a rare occurrence, but it was for the best. She had to make sure that she was still attending this school.

The polite small talk, playing the politician. There was nobody better than Katya, their parents had made sure of that.

“Thank you for allowing me to attend. I am developing songs in Russian as well, but to reach the American audience, I sing in English.” She explained hastily, before her father could accuse her of being too Americanized. “I wish Stassi had performed today, she makes a lovely model.”

There, throwing the attention off of herself and onto Stassi’s own failings. Let her squirm under the spotlight a bit.

code by valen t.

 

[natsukashii]

Corey Preston

There was a moment before she spoke that had Corey tenser than he had been the entire day. Forget about his Arts Fest performance or how badly he might’ve messed on it and forget the long wait that came while he was in line with Eli. It was the fact that Adriane could make things worse for him if she wanted to. He knew it wouldn’t be bad for her because this was Adriane, after all. She didn’t feel anything that didn’t advance her position.

In the back of his mind, he thought she’d correct him. He said they were friends and that wasn’t even close to the truth. The truth was he didn’t want to be near her because he was bad at facing his past and being so close to her wasn’t something he wanted to be.

But just this once, Corey hoped that Adriane wouldn’t be the cold-hearted person that she has turned into.

And as she opened her mouth, she immediately set the stage for Corey’s genuine shock that was present on his face. She talked to his sister, complimenting her top and he couldn’t look back in shock at his family because what was he supposed to say? Yeah sorry, I didn’t think she would be nice to you because she’s icy.

So he just smiled and kept on a fake smile for his family’s sake.

And then she dropped the bomb that left Corey in a paralyzed-like state.

“As Corey said, we’re just friends. Pleasure to meet you all.”

Maybe it was that he was in disbelief. He was preparing himself in trying to explain their relationship and why they weren’t together without being directly mean to her in the process. But that would also mean he’d have to explain it in a way that didn’t get Christina protective over him. That kind of something she has been known for and as much as he would love to see his sister go off on Adriane, he didn’t need that headache right now.

“She’s so nice, Corey!” Christina commented. “And she’s really pretty!” Christina couldn’t help but say. “Don’t you think so, Corndog?”

Corey didn’t want to agree because, well there were obvious reasons, but he nodded briefly at his sister and once more at Adriane. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking right now. Probably judging his sister. And god, what was he supposed to do right now? Not speaking would raise too many alarms with his family.

“Yeah. She is..” Corey glanced at Adriane. In his eyes, he was begging this to end. A wave of dread passed through his face and only Adriane knew why.

“So, how long have you and Corey been friends, Adriane?” Christina asked. “We’ve heard a lot about Maddie from Corey, but don’t think we’ve heard your name come up now that I’m thinking about it.”

Oh, great!

That’s just freaking wonderful! Corey couldn’t blame his sister. She was as protective over him as she was curious about his social life. Always the one to go to bat for him, Christina also wanted to make sure he was hanging out with the right crowd and not getting into too much trouble. With their parents busy with their jobs, sometimes she had to assume that maternal role while still being the older sister he could go to with anything he needed to.

But right now, he wished she wasn’t like that and just let Adriane leave as Corey suspected. Since this was probably the longest they’ve spent with each other since she popped up at his and Maddie’s place not too long ago.

mood
Kill me now

location
Arts Fest

outfit
Looking dapper

playing...
Blinding Lights

by The Weeknd​

mentions
Eli, Maddie

interactions
Family, Adri

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

Landon Sinclaire

He wasn’t moping.

That’s what he told himself. Had he been up to anything exceptionally great these last two weeks? Not really. He had hooked up with Ezra and it was…hot and needed. Especially after the disaster that was that day.

He kissed Mike. He fucking kissed Michael Reid. Like…was he insane? Was he just momentarily certifiable? That’s what he told himself. He left Mike behind a long time ago. His friend…former friend was just a piece of shit on his otherwise perfect life.

He could blame Evie…or the fact that they still hadn’t spoken. She still hadn’t forgiven him. Like what the fuck? He was her brother and he was sorry. She should know that he didn’t do it to hurt her, but yet, she still refused to even take a phone call.

And then there was Gen. Gen who had graciously allowed him to stay the weekend. Gen who had given him one of the best weekends he had had in a long while. It was great. It was going somewhere. He could feel it. He could feel that this was more than just a random hook up. That maybe, just maybe, she had deeper feelings.

Then she ghosted him. It was blatant. She didn’t come right out and say it. But taking a long time to respond to texts, avoiding eye contact when they saw each other at school. Oh and the fact that she was continuing her tryst with Mike. He kind of got the clue. No one wanted him around. Not Mike. Not Evie. And now…not Gen.

He tried to think about where it all went wrong. What incident lead to the reason he felt the way he did or the reason he was in the position he was currently in. And he had some ideas. None he’d really care to dwell on at the moment but he was pretty sure he was right. And even when his career was doing well, he wasn’t happy. What’s the point if you don’t have anyone to share it with? He had Stella and he had Jace, but he was pretty sure that Jace was sick and tired of him being around all the time.

Yeah, they were best friends. But when Landon wallowed. He really took it to the next level. When Gen stopped texting, he pretty much devoted his time to Jace. And Jace was a good friend. He’d at least hang out with him or at least didn’t complain about the tv being on too loud or the fact that he would sleep in the bed all weekend and lament about his life.

There was that one time where Jace told him to take a shower or move out, but he didn’t mean it and Landon probably needed to hear it. He was ripe. Thankfully the Arts Festival would be a perfect distraction. Everyone would get to see his performance. They’d applaud cause he was fucking amazing. And maybe Evie would congratulate him. Extend an olive branch and let him make things up to her. Sure, it was a pipe dream and sure, it had close to zero chance of actually happening, but it was all he had at the moment.

It took everything in him to even show up today. He watched a few performances. Barely paid any attention and now he meandered through the crowd. He hated the way things were. Hated what was happening with the people closest to him. Had he done something that bad? Yes, he lied. But had he been honest would she still be not talking to him? Guess we will never know.

“Hey,” His glanced down over to his right and let a small smile form on his lips. “How, um, how’s it going?” He didn’t really know what to say.

“Hey, Stranger.” He said teasingly. He didn’t want her to feel bad. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand why she stayed away. They were complicated. They were messy. They were a lot of things that meant they should stay away, but Landon never really paid attention to that. “Not too bad. Just watching as most of our classmates embarrass themselves. I heard your show was amazing. Sorry I missed it.” He glanced at the ground awkwardly. He lifted his eyes to meet here. “What about you? How’ve you been?” He scanned the crowd for Mike. He really couldn’t afford to see him right now.

mood
NOT moping

location
Arts Festival

outfit
clothes duh

playing...
the final countdown
by europe

mentions
Evie, Mike, Jace

interactions
Gen

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

Lucky DuBois

Friends.

They were just friends.

People could spin it however they wanted. They could think what they wanted. They would think whatever they wanted. Yeah, the ThirsTea post didn’t help their case, but that bitch had a vendetta and he wasn’t quite sure what it was yet. Was it just to fuck with him? Had he done that shitty of a job staying under the radar or was it merely the fact that he had high profile friends? Dorian and Ash. They were someone. They meant something in this world. He was nothing…yet he was some target to give the people of Hollywood Arts something to stare at.

He hated it. He hated whoever was behind it. He hated people like Elise West and Angela Harlow that made people like him feel inferior. Like they weren’t worth the time of day.

Sure, the closeness. The touching. It could be read out of context. And maybe…if circumstances were different…maybe. But it was pointless to go there. They wanted different things. They had different expectations. And while Elise was a stone cold heartless douche of a woman, she wasn’t exactly wrong. He would only bring Ash down.

And he wasn’t going to ruin their relationship by literally fucking it up. He’d already fucked too much up. Dorian was pissed. Maddie was pissed. Josie, if she ever found out what he did, would be devastated. And he told himself it didn’t matter. That these were just people and that he’d get by if they were gone because that is what he needed to tell himself.

He would be fine.

Consequences be damned because he’d been through hell and made it out relatively unscathed. Why worry about anything else? He didn’t need anyone. He didn’t need friends. He didn’t need a relationship to define him. Music. Music was his passion. That was his goal. And proving his father wrong would be the topper on the cake and even now, he’d never be able to rub it in his face.

Lost Boy.

Maybe that’s why it angered him so much. Not that ThirsTea was obsessed or hellbent on making his life miserable, but that some part of him believed they were right. He was lost. He’d been lost. And no matter how hard he tried to do the right thing or be the good guy, his efforts failed.

Again, he’d tell himself he doesn’t care and he doesn’t. He can’t, cause the minute you do, you open yourself up for a world of hurt and he was over it. Not interested. No thanks. Please move on.

“Hi, Lennon, nice to meet you.” He couldn’t tell if he was disappointed that his brother decided to interrupt or if he was relieved. They were just friends. He was just comforting her. Assuring her that her mother had zero effect on him. He did a pretty good job. He’d perfected the art of compartmentalizing his emotions.

Lennon struggled in Lucky’s grasp, but he didn’t let up. “You guys were really good. I liked your song.” The younger boy said as he finally wiggled out. “It’s so much better than his band stuff and that Javi guy is really weird."

He glared down at the other boy. “Different. It’s different from the band stuff.” He corrected him. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He gave Ash an apathetic smile.

This was weird. Not cause she was meeting his brother. Not because his ten-year-old brother was being a little shit. But because his brother had interrupted…something. And that something was clawing at the back of his head.

It had to have been the adrenaline. The rush of performing. And they were friends. And he didn’t like to see Ash upset. Or nervous. Or doubting herself. Or any feeling that wasn’t positive or productive. Maybe he cared. Like slightly. Maybe it was the hero complex he refused to admit to. Maybe it was easier to deflect to someone else’s emotional baggage than to focus on his own. Either way…things were weird.

“Oh hey guys fancy seeing you here?” Lucky glanced over and noticed Amy. A smile formed on his face. “Hey Ames.” He said completely unaware of any reason that things should be awkward. Hopefully she hadn’t witnessed their private moment if only because they’d get the completely wrong idea.

Amy was one of the most genuinely nice people he had met at Hollywood Arts. It was good for him, but bad for her cause that would only end up getting herself into trouble, if it hadn’t already.

Ash played it off well. The fact that she wasn’t fine had become completely undetectable. Which was impressive. Especially give. What they had just been through, but he got it…more than most. It was easier to pretend everything was fine then to admit everything was falling apart.

“I heard your performance was great!” Lucky swelled with pride. His eyes glanced over to Ash’s. It was fucking amazing. Hopefully, Amy was basing it off of actual reviews and not the jaded version that blogger had posted. “I’m actually headed to mine now.”

“Yeah, no, it was like…it was really, really great. Or, like, I think so. I ah…I hope so, anyway.” He rolled his eyes. There she goes away. “She doesn’t like to brag, so I’ll do it for us. We fucking killed it Ames. Someone…” he gave Ash a look. “Needs to stop doubting. But it really was, like, awesome.” He smiled.

Like a broken record. Though, it was all more clear now that he had met Twatlise West. How could anyone think they were worth anything with a parent like her existing.

"You're going to do great, though," she added as she lifted her head back up. "You're, like... you're so amazing. Like, my mom's always going off on me about how amazing everything you do is. And like it is. Like the Homecoming thing? Freaking gorgeous. You really don't have anything to worry about."

He couldn’t deny that. The few times that he’s heard Amy’s stuff was outstanding. But she was a professional. She was a true artist in all senses of the word. Plus, she had agreed to at least hear him out on a new song that he was writing. Not a duet, like the one he and Ash did, but something that would feature Amy’s amazing range and Lucky’s raw talent. It was good. One of his better songs that he had written and he had been excited to show her.

“Are all the girls at this school babes?” The prepubescent voice of his younger brother brought him out of his train of thought and he rested his head in his hand for a brief moment. “Lennon. Amy. Amy. Lennon.” He said awkwardly as he gave a small glance over at Amy. “This is my little brother and he’s about to leave...or die.”

"I, ahh... I actually have to go, though," Lucky turned his attention toward Ash. He wasn’t disappointed. Definitely not. Maybe curious, though, why he expected they’d hang out the rest of the day. Maybe he had gotten used to it. Used to it being them against the world for a little while and now things could go back to normal. “I’m supposed to, like...I promised Trevor we’d hangout after my performance and that I’d go, like, see his movie, so I should probably find him. I’ll umm...I’ll talk to you later.” Figured. For whatever reason, she felt the need to keep that dude around. He didn’t get it, but it wasn’t his business. She was free to do whatever she wanted. “About, like, recording the song, and like...I owe you, anyway, after umm...earlier, and again, I’m really sorry.”

“Is Trevor that dude with the pedovan?” Lucky cleared his throat and grabbed Lennon. “Thanks for stopping by squirt, but it's time to go find Nina.” He said, pushing him off and giving Ash and Amy an awkward smile. “Kids say the darndest things, right?” He said with a shrug. He looked over to make sure that his brother was going the right direction which was away from him and anyone else he could embarrass him in front of.

Hey. He wasn’t wrong. Trevor drove a pedovan. “So, you’re gonna watch JBN’s debut before you head out though, yeah?” He looked at Ash. “It’s gonna be epic. Plus, I’m pretty sure, Javi would be crushed if you don’t show...so...don’t do it for me...do it for Javi.” He said teasingly.

Of course she agreed. She always did. He gave her a slight wave as she left him and Amy alone and he turned his attention toward her. Figured Amy wasn’t one to get super nervous before a performance, but then again, he didn’t think Ash would have either. “May I escort you to the stage, Ms. Jones?” He said teasingly, holding out an arm for her to grab. “You excited?”

mood
restless...not nervouslocation
Arts Festival

outfit
looking good

playing...
Drowning

by Olivia Holt & Ross Lynch

mentions
Josie, Dorian, Ash, Trevor, Javi

interactions
Ash, Amytags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[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:
Arts Fest

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

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

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Hearing Ash's words and seeing her face for the first time in such a long time felt weird to Amy. Not that they hung out a lot before hand or anything, but that was due to coincidence before not Amy not knowing how to handle drama and secrets. This was an active choice on Amy's part even if she did so in a way that made it seem like it was just natural.

"You too Ash." She wasn't good at lying, so luckily it wasn't...a lie. Normally it'd be really nice to see her. It was still nice to see her, she just wished it was under better circumstances. Or at least under the actual situational pretense they were pretending it was. But if Ash could stand here and act like nothing was going on then Amy could suck it up and do the same. It was just for a pretty little while after all. Think of it like acting! Though Amy was no actress...This could be practice for one day. Lots of celebrities start as one thing and branch out into other things right?

When Lucky turned and smiled at her is eased her rising anxieties to focus on him, and the fact that he deserved to not be in the middle of all this. If she couldn't fake it for anyone else sake she had to for his. "Hey Lucky!" She chimed in a voice so convincing she damn near fooled herself. Maybe the few acting tips she'd gotten on the set of Trev's movie did some good after all.

She listened to Ash talk about their performance and it struck her as a bit odd. Ok she completely understood the nerves, and anxiety, and the never feeling like it was quite good enough because Amy felt like a fish out of water here since she got here. But Ash had been doing this for so long, and she was so popular, and Amy just. She just didn't see how she couldn't be at least a little proud. Even Amy felt some pride at least after a performance. Maybe she just hadn't seen her friends yet? Charlie and Trevor always helped Amy see the beauty in her work, and herself.

Maybe that's all Ash needed! Amy wished she could help give it to her, but she knew better then anyone that hearing praise is nice and all but it doesn't sink in the same if it's not from the people you want to hear it from or that really matter. She didn't think her mattered to Ash honestly, and that wasn't a bad thing, it was just...a fact.

"You both are great singers and artists, so I know it was amazing even without the reviews. I'll still have to catch a recording of it though because I still for sure want to see it. If Lucky says you guys killed it I know you did." She chimed. Even if it wouldn't stick that didn't mean Amy wasn't still going to try. It was just in her nature, Amy couldn't help but try and help with what she could. Even if it would amount to nothing. A trait she wasn't sure was good or bad anymore.

Her eyes widened in shock as Ash mentioned her mother liking her work and even comparing her to ash herself. Amy didn't ever really imagine the fact that she'd have fans outside of the target demographic and especially not someone like Mrs. West. That woman was notorious for her standards. "Your mom watches my performances? Well...I'm glad she likes them." She scratched the back of her head a bit nervously because this was awkward. She liked that she liked it but from the way people talked about her in twitter, she didn't seem like a nice woman especially to her kids, so she welcomed the switch to homecoming.

"I'm glad you liked Homecoming! It was super fun getting to perform for everyone like that. I've never gotten to share a stage with friends before that so I hope I can do it again soon." She giggled. She meant it she was addicted to the feeling. Sure she'd done Youtube covers with her friends the past few years, but being on a live stage with them getting to bounce of their energy was something different. She'd totally consider going from solo to a group of some sort if she was close to other people who sang in her genre. Sadly The only ones she knew had been Kenny and Dei since Charlie sings mostly pop. Collaborations where cool, but she didn't really wanna sing pop all the time and she doubted Charlie would wanna switch either. There was Dei...but right now she'd kinda rather never sing again then share a stage with him so...

Speaking of collabs she did say she'd listen to something Lucky was working on which was super exciting for her, because he also was out of her usual genre. She liked the idea of branching out and trying new sounds. Plus working with super talented people only makes you better right? She'd talked to her manager about it already and while they were hesitant they OK'd her trying it out, but would have to show them the final product before any sort of release which she supposed was fair. She just hoped they wouldn't et stuck on it not being 'on brand' for her. cause honestly her 'brand' was dumb.

Sex sells sure, but she wasn't sexy and no one would convince her otherwise. (Though no one tries harder then Charlie)

Point was working with friends hardly felt like working and she needed more time in the studio feeling like that instead of feeling bitter and angry all the time. She wrote so much the past few months that she could probably release a while EP on just songs about how pissed off and hurt she was over Dei. She could, and it'd stir up a lot of buzz...but that's not what she wanted. She knew it was time for an album not just another EP and she'd be damned if the hole thing centered about that asshole. He'd probably take it as a compliment or some shit knowing him.

Nope she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Plus she had moved on! Yup She'd found someone knew and better and she was going to focus on that. That's totally not about convincing herself more so then anyone else. She totally still didn't have any lingering feelings about it because she was great at moving on. Look at Nate! She totally didn't feel nerve wreakingly awkward being around him while working on Trevor's Movie. Not at all. Well not visibly and that's what mattered right?

The little boy's comment snapped her out of her thoughts as she waved down at him, "How cute! Nice to meet you Lennon." She chimed. Amy liked kids, and especially their bluntness was super entertaining. Funny when it came from a child it was much easier to swallow then her peers. Perhaps because when they said it there was not real malic or anything behind it. They just said whatever they thought and felt. No second guessing, no room for misinterpretation...just honesty.

Ash mentioned having to leave to go see Trevor which left Amy with Mixed feelings. On the one hand yes go do that Ash, Trevor could use you, and you are dating, so yes go hang out with him. On the other hand after what she just saw the pit of her stomach wouldn't let her just let it go. She wanted to she really did, but she just couldn't. It wasn't her place right? or her business? Well Trevor was her best friend so that kinda made it her business right? Especially if something happens and she couldn't helped prevent it. That's what friends do.

"Oh yah, you should probably hurry. He could use the friendly face right about now." She commented tho no explanation of why. Trevor had basically begged her Trevor and Lucky didn't get along already so she didn't wanna potentially add anything to the fuel. She was concerned however hearing what Ash told Lucky. Perhaps more one on one time was not a good idea in this situation? Especially if Lucky really did like Ash in any sort of way. She knew what she needed to do but damn was she dreading it. She had to say something to Trevor, it was only right...right? Ideally she'd just talk to Ash up front...but ash wasn't allowed to know that she knew about her and Trevor.

Damn it all. She hates secrets.

"Oh thanks! Hope you like it. And I was going to see his movie too. You know see if the camera really does add ten pounds and all." She giggled nervously herself. "Tho I could probably use the extra ten." Self deprecating jokes weren't her strong suit, but her mind didn't know what else to do. She felt bad so she had to get that out in some way shape or form.

Amy couldn't help but giggle at what his brother said about Trevor. His van would go down in HA history as a legend at this rate. Lucky quickly sent the kid on his way though and she supposed she understood why. In theory at least. Amy was an only child and her family effectively cut her off so if she did have family around to embarrass her she liked to think she'd savor it. But you never know until you re in the situation right?

After Ash left Amy's nerves calmed down quite a bit. It hadn't occurred to her that she'd given herself actual anxiety over being around the girl after avoiding her the past few weeks. This whole secret thing wasn't good for her health. She needed those to to figure out something else, but for now the brief moment her anxiety over Trevor and Ash left. It was then instantly replaced by her own show anxieties when she heard his question. "H-huh? Oh! Um yah...something like that." She laughed nervously taking his arm. "Tho honestly you don't have to walk me, it's actually pretty far. It's on the other side of this stupid fair whatever you call it. And I'm probably going to be late..."

Then it dawned on her. Holy shit she was definitely going to be late! She already was cutting it close and now she STOP to talk. Even if briefly. She was an idiot. "I'm. an. idiot." She pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand taking in a few deep breaths trying to re-calm herself. "You know what maybe they don't even need me for the performance. Just play the music video and I'll just roam like a lost child." she was giggling the whole time, but not the fun haha i'm having a good time giggles. It was the I'm laughing to keep myself from crying right now giggles.

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, Gen

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

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Jared watched as Luciana made her way over to his model to examine the damage. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath as he began fidgeting with his collar. Well his clothes and hair in general because that's what he did when he was nervous, he groomed himself. Weird? Maybe. But effective he supposed. Better then biting his nails or shaking looking like a weakling. At least if he was fixing himself up he looked like he was still in control, and unbothered.

He used to bite his lip, but when he would bite so hard he'd bruise or bleed his parents had to tell him to put a stop to that. Did he? For the most part. Under actual intense stress he still will from time to time. He hates himself for it, but the body kinda has a mind of it's own sometimes.

He listened intently as she finally spoke up, "It's just the seam from both parts so it's an easy fix, guess this guy got lucky after all so that's the good news there's nothing to worry about. I can make it seem like nothing happened." He finally let his breath go softly as to not let it be obvious he'd been holding it giving her a swift nod. This was music to his ears that the idiot had some sort of guardian angel looking out for him. Because death was tapping on his doorstep right before this.

She started speaking again about the down side and the difficulty of the matter, and blah, blah, blah. Honestly by the end of her entire spill he was back to being slightly irritated because she was long winded for no reason. All she had to say was he needed to send someone to go get her sewing machine. The justification explanation was unnecessary because he didn't care how or why. He simply needed to know what he needed to do to help her get it done.

Was that so hard? They were in a time restraint as she so eloquently reminded him after all, yet here she was wasting time and her breath. The moment she got to the part of her speech about sending someone somewhere he snapped his fingers at the nearest stage hand beckoning them. They'd been working with him for the past couple weeks now so they all knew how he worked and what he meant when he did such things. The hand fell quickly in line and started listening to Luci as she spoke. When she finished he turned to the hand and spoke simply, "Go." It was firm but not irritated like his tone towards the model.

Jared for all his dick-ish qualities knew somewhat how to differentiate his mood and tone towards those who did and didn't deserve it. He might lead with an iron fist, but he wasn't Stalin level dictator, or irredeemably evil about it. So with that simple command the stage hand took off running as fast as they could.

Jared turned back to Luci to see if there was anything else she required of him, but she walked over to start pinning the model. He didn't really have much else to do since everything else was in place and ready. As it should be. He was the only weak link, something he would not soon forget.

Once she was done and she'd sent him off Jared sent another stage hand to accompany him to make sure no other 'accidents' happened. Jared didn't trust the guy as far as he could throw him at this point and Jared didn't do physical labor. He worked out to keep a good physic for recreational purposes, but not to actually do anything physical. Also the aesthetic...he was vain and that was ok with him.

When she spoke up again to him he had to will himself not to roll his eyes at her. It took every resolve he had not to say anything back on the matter. At least not right now, because he whole heartedly (if you count him even having a heart) disagreed.

When she'd asked for his help which is why she owed him this favor in the first place, he didn't just show up. He didn't show up tell her there was nothing he could do and leave. No, debts were cleared until they were paid in full. A favor wasn't repaid until it was fulfilled. That's the nature of a deal. If she'd told him she couldn't help him, then they would NOT be even because she didn't actually do anything. Walking over didn't count as anything to him. His favor to her wasn't for her to walk over, it was to do something. He didn't call her here to see her face. That was a ridiculous notion and he inwardly scoffed at the mere thought that she could actually believe it was worth a damn.

Normally he'd have vocalized all of that, but he wasn't an idiot. If they disagreed heavily enough on it she could change her mind and leave. He'd wait till after she fixed the clothes and he presented the line. It was just good business sense in his eyes. assuming after the fact he'd even talk to her about it considering there was so much else happening after the show he might not get the chance. Point being it wasn't worth the risk at the moment and he was all about risk management.

He raised a brow as she mentioned sticking him with the needle a small smirk curling onto his lips, "That surprisingly does make me feel a bit better." Knowing he couldn't physically cause the boy any pain it was nice hearing that he still received some and had to just stand their and take it. He deserved worse, but that would have to wait.

He looked around for the stage hands return before glancing down at her, "In the mean time, do you need me to send someone back to your presentation to do anything for you while you're here?" Normally he wouldn't care about being accommodating in any way, but he was feeling a bit generous today. More then usual...after all he'd even send a message trying to comfort Gen earlier, and stood up for Maddie in Twitter. It was an odd day for him and he didn't like it. Sentiments were foreign and uncomfortable to him, but he'd started so might as well finish.

Luckily It didn't take too long for the original stagehand to come back with the portable sewing machine. He was red as a tomato and out of breathe, but he knew it was worth it to get back as fast as possible not wanting to possibly enrage Jared any further. Or potentially Luci since she'd seemed irritable as well.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

Dalton Kirby

(tw: some choice words and curses)

“Don’t be such a jackass, Kirby, it’s just a dinner.”

On any other day, any other fucking day, Slut would find himself in his usual position by now, down on the ground getting pounded into the dirt.

Just a dinner.

Dalton could feel his skin heating as his blood boiled at the thought and his nails dug even deeper into his skin. The temptation to just say fuck it to the arts fest and all the big wigs there and just launch himself at Slater and his so called family, was growing by the minute. He was going to fucking murder him, all of them, if he had to stay here any longer than this fucking farce of a family photo.

He had shoved his father’s hand off his shoulder before the final click went off and had started moving to leave when Damien threw that line his way. It was taking every ounce of control in his body to not turn right around and slam his fist right into the younger boy’s face.

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled back, barely glancing over his shoulder, and of course as he did, what would he see but Miranda with that fake little smile plastered on her face as she looked in his direction.

It wasn’t like the animosity between them was a secret and Miranda for all her pretenses had to be blind and deaf to not know of his hatred for her and her son. He had to give it to her though, the woman was certainly doing a good job of acting like she was. She was also doing a better job of acting like she even gave a damn about him than his own mother did.

His life was just a big fucking joke at this point.

“We’re not going to force you to come, but it would mean the world to your father if you did.”

The scowl on his face deepened and he rolled his eyes as he glared into the distance.

Yeah right. Like his father gave a damn and like hell he was going to ever take part in this farcical family act they had going. Actually his father would give a damn, if only because him showing up would make it seem like they had a ‘complete family’.

Those lines alone pissed him off and if there was one thing Miranda had in common with her son, it was that they didn’t know when to fucking shut up because she just kept fucking going.

“And we never got a chance to really celebrate your birthday.” As if you genuinely want to just drop the fucking act. “We can make it a… belated birthday, for you and Damien.” Fuck you. “Wouldn’t that be fun?” You know what would actually be fun?

Watching them all drive off a bridge and crash and burn to their fucking deaths.

That would be fun.

Because then he would finally be free of them.

Forever.

In his mind, Dalton had long wiped Damien’s Birthday from his mind and ignored its existence, though every year Miranda would make a big fuss of it. He would turn off his phone and just disappear somewhere to burn off some steam every time the little rat’s birthday came around. After he met Lydia, he just pasted her name right over where Miranda with her stupid birthday traditions, had desperately attempted to etch in Slater's name. Celebrating her birthday made it even easier to forget about Slater's.

And here Miranda was trying to change that with a 'belated double celebration'. As if she really wanted to celebrate Dalton's birthday, she just wanted to make his dad happy and celebrate her son's birthday again.

Well you would never catch him dead celebrating Slater’s birthday. Never.

And while Miranda seemed to adore this little miss ignorant act of hers, he was sick of her attempting to string him along for the ride just because it was convenient for her.

Dalton turned his head just enough to lock eyes with Miranda, fixing her with a vicious glare that didn’t conceal any of his feelings of disgust and hatred towards her.

“I said I’m not fucking going.” He growled, fists still balled up by his side as he felt his emotions and anger boiling over.

“Dalton.” The warning tone in George’s voice was clear but Dalton ignored it.

“Your act makes me sick,” he continued, spitting each word as his control continued to slip away from him.

“Dalton –“ The call was sharper and shorter this time but he didn’t let that stop him.

“no wonder Slutter is as disgusting as he is. Like mother like son. Both fucking desperate whores.”

His father froze like he had been slapped across the face and Miranda? Well he didn’t bother staring at her long enough to see her reaction.

Those words weren’t said as part of some victory party or celebration against Miranda and Slater where he wanted to stick around and slowly savor their reactions or shit like that. He was pissed, he was done and he’d said his piece, so now he was going to fucking leave.

Good fucking riddance. And please by all means crash and burn in the car on the way out.

mood
get fucking lost

location
arts fest

outfit
dapper

playing...
song title here

by artist here​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Slater

tags
Winona

 

[geminiy]

Elias Johannes

@elithegreat has set their status to:
shit

@elithegreat has set their outfit to:
#JulesMadeMeDoIt

@elithegreat has set their location to:
dancers' dressing rooms

@elithegreat has mentioned:
n/a

@elithegreat has interacted with:
JJ

@elithegreat has tagged:
Soap

The line crawled on as lines typically do: slowly, painfully, dreadfully. The entire time, Eli found himself shifting from one foot to the other or gnawing anxiously at the inside of his cheek as he watched the seconds tick into minutes which eventually turned into an hour. Corey did an excellent job at distracting him, even if he didn’t know he was doing it, but Eli kept finding himself thinking about JJ and his subsequent demise.

Elias was never a late person, always fifteen minutes early instead of a second late. But this time, trapped in the stupid unwavering line, he was the tardy one. JJ knew him to be punctual, she had been relying on him to be punctual and yet there he was, stupidly standing there without an escape. Face it Elias, he found his inner monologue ranting, JJ’s going to kill you.

The second they reached the front, Eli quickly signed himself in and said a quick goodbye to JJ before rushing off to the change room. He was no more out of the change room, all decked out in the costume that JJ had picked out for him, before he was being whisked away by his partner towards the stage.

From the second her arm wrapped around Eli’s arm, he could feel the tension. Where were those quippy little comments she made before a dance, the compliments that masqueraded as coldhearted insults, the aching confidence? Normally, Eli would have stalled to see if she was okay. He hated how dancers felt the need to shove everything down to perform, repressing the human part of them that made the art so beautiful. But there was no time for consolation, no time to try and crack through the walls that JJ had carefully constructed around her since their last practice. All he could do was offer her a soft smile and take her hand carefully in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

The lights fell, spurring the pair to fall naturally into the poses that signalled the music to start. Across the stage, Eli found himself trying to look through JJ’s defenses. Something was wrong, seriously wrong. For now, Eli could masquerade his concern as acting. After all, they were supposed to be conflicted strangers to lovers and by the furrow of his brow and the concern behind his eyes, Elias seemed to be playing the part well.

Making contact with the shorter girl, Eli did his best to melt into her touch, wrapping a muscular arm around her waist as they began one of the connected parts of the dance. As Elias carefully counted beats and steps in his mind, his eyes scanned JJ’s face for any sign of her being okay.

JJ pulled away according to the choreography and Eli couldn’t help but let a small sigh of relief to exhale from his lips. One half down, one half left to go. Silently, he pleaded in his mind for JJ to pull through the second half. If she could just get through that, if she could just hold on, they could leave this stupid performance and she could let everything out.

“Come on, Jules,” Eli mumbled to himself as JJ began the solo part of their routine, Eli supporting from the background as his partner dazzled in the spotlight.

People could say whatever they wanted about JJ but fuck, she was incredibly talented.

Just a minute left, the song slowly picking up towards the climax. Time for the big embrace, the big team moves that would symbolize the strangers coming together and giving into the temptation and lust. Eli began to make his way across the stage as JJ went to finish her pirouette…

Why was she stopping when she has another count to go?

No.

No, no, no.

JJ fell in front of him in what felt like slow motion. A pang of worry rattled through his chest as she, or rather her body, refused to move, her eyes trained on the stage below them. She wasn’t blinking, barely breathing, simply braced on the ground in a perfect sculpture of her collapse.

Think, Elias. Think, think, think.

Eli slid onto one leg, using his front arm to brace himself as he twisted himself to be in a crouched position in front of JJ. To anyone who didn’t know the routine, this seemed perfectly normal, especially when he reached a hand out to cup her chin and tilt her face up towards him. Her face read pain but not of the physical sort. Slowly, a tear crept down her cheek and made contact with his thumb which brushed it away with a delicate touch.

He wasn’t going to let JJ down.

Taking the complete lead, Eli flipped himself onto his feet, and danced a few improvised movements around JJ as he tried to figure out what to do. In the choreography, Eli had made sure to make the dance equal in power, an even give and take between the two. He really had always hated when the male dancer of a male-female duet held all the power. But JJ was in no shape to hold the power she usually demanded and earned. So, in a split second decision, Elias changed the story.

They were strangers pulled into temptation, into lust, into longing. But instead of simply giving into the physicalness of it all, they were swallowed up by the emotion: the girl afraid to be vulnerable, the boy afraid to hurt her. Within seconds, Eli went from a concerned friend to a protector, a lover, a loyal soulmate.

He wasn’t going to let JJ down.

Moving back over to JJ, Eli carefully guided her to her feet with both of his arms wrapped around her waist. Lifting her up slightly, Eli placed JJ down on his own feet and began to guide her through a set of lyrical movements: a stranger showing another how to be free, how to feel, how to simply be.

With one strong lift, Eli had JJ entirely in his arms bridal style and spinning her around as the song began to come to a close. Hugging her close to him, the song pulled to a close as Eli pushed the hair away from her face and pulled her in for a mock kiss.

He didn’t care about the choir of hollers and cheers from the crowd or the dimming of the lights that slowly cast them into darkness. All he cared about was making sure JJ was okay. So, as soon as she was back on her own feet, Eli wrapped her in a protective hug and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“You were amazing.” Eli spoke softly, pulling away to smile down at her. “Come on, let’s get off this stupid stage.”

Taking JJ’s hand, the pair walked off the stage. Eli ignored the coaches and instructors giving them praise as they climbed down the stairs. Now was not the time for congratulations or praise or critique or neutrality. JJ needed to be away from the faces, from the voices, from the rest of the world that would want to know if what they had witnessed was planned or improvisation.

Eli didn’t release JJ’s hand until they were in the privacy of their dressing room, only letting her go to close the door and to block the world out with his body. After a few moments of silence, Eli turned to JJ with a look of complete worry and concern written across his features.

“I am so proud of you, JJ.” Eli said warmly, though he couldn’t muster a smile through the frown of anxiety on his lips. Slowly, he made his way over to JJ and took her hands again, giving them a quick reassuring squeeze as he guided her down onto the couch against the back wall. “You pushed through out there, you absolutely nailed everything you had to. Even when you fell, you carried through, and for that, I am so proud of you. But clearly there’s something going on and…” Eli’s voice trailed off, knowing his next words would likely go unanswered. “Maybe I’m not the person you want to even talk to right now but if you need someone to listen, I’m here.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Ezra Gray

@EZGoing has set their status to:
fuck acting

@EZGoing has set their outfit to:
fancy

@EZGoing has set their location to:
his apartment

@EZGoing has mentioned:
Spencer

@EZGoing has interacted with:
Chas, Alex, Auggie

@EZGoing has tagged:
hery Soap qunqun

Ezra quickly remembered why he didn’t do charity shit the second the curtains were called and World War III broke out behind the scenes.

Yeah, fuck acting, and fuck Chas’s god complex.

Alex and Chas seemed to be having the time of their lives tearing at each other's throats like rabid wolves, leaving Ezra and Auggie to awkwardly stand on the sidelines twiddling their thumbs like a pair of absolute nimrods.

“Hey,” Ezra mumbled quietly with a soft nudge with his elbow to Auggie’s side, “I’ve got $50 on Alex tearing Bottom’s face off in a fit of incredibly sexy rage.”

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡​

I’ll save you the trauma of reading through Ezra’s rather awful stage performance of Mr Vito.

Picture a fawn on ice, yes the whole Bambi bit. Now picture that fawn on ice in a transport truck’s headlights trying to act all dramatic. Yeah, that’s pretty much what Ezra looked like standing there on stage with Alex. The only thing he was good at was the kiss, but even that was rushed and sorta bullshit and left Ezra bored and embarrassed and now, incredibly frustrated.

Everyone gathered for a quick moment backstage after the performance. Ezra shrugged on his coat before looking at Alex and Chas.

“Well, as absolutely lovely as that whole experience was, I think Auguste and I should be hitting the road. Places to go, people to see, you know?” Ezra nodded to Auggie as he looked to the door on the other side of Chas. With a few steps, Ezra pulled his hand out of his coat pocket to ruffle Chas’s hair as he passed. “Excellent work out there, Alex. You too I guess, Chas. Please never ask me to help again.”

Holding the door open for Auguste, Ezra followed him into the main lobby of the stadium and out to the performer’s parking where his car sat under a lamppost.

“Sorry about the whole impromptu play thing,” Ezra softly apologized as he clicked the button to unlock the car door before opening it for Auggie. “Let me make it up to you?”

With both boys in the car, Ezra carefully pulled out of the parking lot and into the highway, cruising past the major part of downtown as the sun began to set in his rearview mirror. One of his many playlists of random songs hummed softly through the speakers, just over the gusts of air rushing into the cab through the open windows. Ezra hated driving with the windows up or in awkward silence. He much preferred the feeling of wind and openness and singing lyrics to his favourite songs off-key as they whizzed through the streets.

Pulling to a stop in the parking lot of his apartment complex, Ezra hopped out and grabbed the car door for Auggie before leading him inside and up the four flights of stairs to his apartment. With a quick twist of the key in the lock, Ezra pushed the door open and flicked on the front hall light.

“Honey, I’m home! Get your pants on and the girl out!” Ezra called out into the darkened apartment in case Spencer was home. When no one answered, Ezra shrugged and closed the front door behind Auggie, kicking his shoes off into the rack in the closet. “Guess Spencer isn’t home. Here, let me take your coat.”

Carefully placing both coats on the tree by the front door along with his keys on the hook, Ezra walked into the apartment, flicking on lights as he went. Making his way over to the kitchen, he pulled open the fridge door and grabbed two drinks from the door, opening both before handing one to Auggie. Clicking the rims of the glasses together, Ezra smiled warmly and gave Auggie a wink.

“To rather horrible acting performances,” he laughed as he took a swig of the drink before setting it down onto the table. “Figured I owed you something better than some sort of dull restaurant meal after everything I put you through today. One home cooked meal coming right up.”

Ezra got to work, turning on music in the kitchen as he got to work. He had been marinating the lamb for a dinner with Spencer on the weekend but seeing as his baby brother seemed to have his own plans, Ezra was sure he wouldn’t be too upset if he made their family recipe for Auggie. So to work he went, roasting meat and preparing side dishes from muscle memory.

An hour or so of cooking and small talk passed and Ezra emerged from the kitchen with two full plates, the aroma of the meat and vegetables filling the apartment and reminding him of home. Placing them carefully onto the table, one in front of Auguste and the other across from him at Ezra’s usual spot, Ezra slid into his seat and offered a smile to his friend.

“Bon appétit." Ezra said with an awful French accent. “I hope you like it. It’s a family recipe, my mum taught Spence and I when we were younger. I’m afraid my dear brother caught on a bit better than I did but I’m a fairly decent cook.” Ezra laughed as he looked at the family photo hanging on the dining room wall.

It was an old photo, telling of a time before Nat got sick. Whenever someone looked at it, Ezra hoped they wouldn't ask why there wasn’t a more recent photograph of the family. It was the last good photo they had because shortly after it was taken, Nat got sick and things were simply never the same.

“I wish they had been able to come.” Ezra softly admitted as he took another bite of his food. With a swallow and a shrug, he smiled sadly and carried on. “But there will be other performances. And we weren’t alone, Spence and I. He’s settled in quite nicely, making all sorts of friends, and I have you.” Reaching across the table, Ezra took Auggie’s hand and the gloom behind his smile washed away. “You’re very pleasant company to have, Auguste.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Irritated, curious.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  Willa (Warren, but gender swapped.)

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

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  Stella, Cappie, (mentioned) Kitsune2202
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Chanel Clairmont

Visuals~ 17 ~ Actress

The play went great.

As great as it could’ve gone, anyway. Chanel, of course, was extremely professional despite the burning rage she had for her character’s husband. Truth be told, she wasn’t entirely sure why she was fuming. Whether it’d been the slight cracks he’d thrown at her earlier or the fact that he lied about being hurt— or, the less significant fact that he had apparently ‘cheated’ on their little bet they made a few weeks ago at the triple date. (It wasn’t an actual date. It was actually a group outing and she’d never admit that it wasn’t.) Cappie had bribed an innocent, sugar-hungry, and impolite little boy to trip Chanel.

And… yes, it worked.

From there on out, he gained nickname privileges.

While he had won the bet, finding this out had only made Chanel even more angry to the point where… She considered blocking him on social media.

How childish was that?

As soon as the scene was over, Chanel and Cappie went their separate ways… okay, so maybe Chanel left before he could say anything but that wasn’t the point.

Her phone had gone off and a message from her father came in.

‘I’m so sorry we couldn’t make it, Nellie.’ Combined with an overdone amount of sad crying faces and hearts.

The blonde silenced her phone instead of replying. It might’ve seemed harsh but all in all, Chanel was not in the mood to talk to anyone.

"We had a change of plans— we had a change of plans… we had a change of plans!”

The hushed mutters had caught her attention, and Chanel glanced up to see… someone. Don’t get her wrong, she knew her.

Just not well.

Stella… something?

Brows furrowed, confused yet ultimately curious about the girl who shared a department with her.

“Issue?” She asked, crossing her arms and taking a seat near her in one of those director chairs. Chanel combed through her blonde hair with her freshly manicured nails.

Acting at this point was compared to nothing more than a few blinks by now. Obviously, most people didn’t have Zoe as their mentor and because of thatthey lacked experience.

Experience.

Chanel shook her head at the mere thought of it.

It was almost sad how some aimed to be actors and yet— they haven’t even starred in a short film let alone a school play.

It was unfortunate, really.

She felt for them.

Chanel believed she was better than most but she didn’t believe she was the best.

There was a difference between being confident and egotistical.
And so, when she had seen some struggle as Stella was in this moment— Chanel felt the need to intervene.
Not to judge, but to teach.

“Use the props?” She suggestedring to make eye contact with the younger girl, clearly more interested in the random things that were placed on the vanity.

Countless makeup palettes, eyeliners, some kind of shimmer… lotion?

Whatever it was, Chanel wanted it.
A heavy sigh escaped her, glancing towards Stella before elaborating.

“Don’t bother to memorize his lines. Use the scene around you, his actions, movements, if he puts the car in ignition, if he were to carry your books, smile—“

“That’s your cue.”

Usually, Chanel had read the script over and over until she had the entire thing memorized: her lines as well as anyone else’s. But— everyone had nerves. Pre show jitters or however it’s said.
It was a tip she used as a beginner.

And there wasn’t any harm in sharing a few tips with a beginner.

It wasn’t like Stella was any competition. At least, not yet.

“Or, you can try and memorize his lines in under an hour and fail miserably. Up to you.”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Soap]

Livanna Moore
"Find the positive in everything. ”

@Livieeee is has updated her status to:

@Livieeee has interacted with:
Nickie

@Livieeee has mentioned:
N/A

@Livieeee has set her outfit to:
Sparkly-Sexy

@Livieeee has tagged:
ohdittoh​

It didn’t look like Liv alleviated any of Nickie’s stress. And for a second she didn’t think Nickie was going to go along with her little idea at all. But it didn’t look like the girl needed heavy convincing to make up her mind, the daze she was in started to fade and the hesitant glaze in her eyes disappeared lyric by lyric.

Nickie smiled and Liv returned it without a second thought.

To be completely honest, Liv had no idea their voices would sound so good together.

(Not in a gross way.)

(Well, not in a Liv way.)

They even harmonized at one point!
It was so freaking cool. It was fun. It was practically amazing.

She’s never really done a duet with anyone before.

At least not on stage.

Or… well… much at all.

Liv didn’t have many friends who were singers.

Or who wanted to record much of anything.

She didn’t blame them, though. Her music wasn’t something other artists wanted to collab on. They had their own sound, image. And in some cases— possibly most.

She would ruin that.

The start of her night hadn’t been the best, but this had definitely made her night.
—
The song came to an end and a round of applause went off for the two girls. Liv laughed loudly, surprised at the reaction they’d gotten and it echoed off the marble floors backstage, holding the curtain back for Nickie to walk through as they made their way backstage.

“Why?”

Liv’s smile immediately faded and she braced herself for insults Nickie was about to fling at her for ruining her performance, the stuff where she’d be like ‘I had that, you didn’t have to help me.’ For some reason, Livanna one hundred percent believed that Nickie was about to start yelling.

The smaller girl bit the inside of her lip, her gaze everywhere but Nickie’s face.

“You...knew the words and everything...you came and help me, and I just…”

Nickie glanced up and Liv finally focused on the girl in front of her. Both of them made eye contact simultaneously.

“Why?”

Liv didn’t know what to say.

Nickie didn’t seem mad.

Perhaps the smile on stage wasn’t entirely for show and Nickie was actually glad that Liv came to help. But let’s not jump to conclusions, at any time the mysterious lyric stealer in front of her could change her mind and boom, another flying unicorn out of a ferris wheel.

“Um… I don’t know.”

Liv, usually was never really speechless unless she was in trouble.

But she wasn’t in trouble. She just didn’t really have an answer for her.

“I knew the words, and… I felt like—“

“You seemed—“

“…”

Liv shrugged.

“I just thought you needed help… sorry if I ruined your solo thing.”

She was.

Sorry, she means.

But she didn’t really regret it. Liv probably would’ve done the same for anyone else, y’know. If she actually knew their songs like a proper stalker would.

Kidding. That’s a joke.

Ha.

Liv’s so funny.

Anyway, sorry, co

“Areee… you mad?”

“Because I totally get if you are but I honestly thought you were gonna faint on stage or something and if I just sat here and did nothing I’d feel really guilty for some reason? I know we aren’t friends friends but I always figured that the two of us were kinda really similar just a little and—“

Liv stopped herself from rambling and pursed her lips.

“Please don’t be mad. We sounded really, really, superly good and if that doesn’t qualify for your showcase I don’t know what would.” She said, gesturing towards the stage with her hands with a somewhat— oddly serious face to ever see on Livanna Moore.

But, in true Liv fashion— a smile was forced at the end of it. Imagine one of those sparkles shining in the corner of that lil’ vampire tooth too.

Ding.

(That’s totally the sound effect.)

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West

Oh yeah, things were totally going well. She mumbled a thank you as he pulled the door open for her. While Trevor made his way to the other side of the van, Ash shrugged her backpack from her shoulders and dropped it to the floormats with one hand before climbing up into the van and resting the flowers in her lap before pulling the door closed after her. She glanced over, watching for a moment as he fumbled to shift into reverse and, with a small smile, she turned her attention back down to the flowers in her lap and started mindlessly fidgeting with them.

Obviously, she had like, no idea where they were going -- which was kind of nerve-wracking if Ash was being totally honest. The whole date thing... well like, they hadn't really been on many dates since it was kind of hard to go on dates when you were a top secret relationship or whatever. And yeah, there was a tiny part of her that was thinking it might be Walmart again, although she was... pretty sure that Trevor wouldn't do that again.

(Not that she was dissing the Walmart date, because she had had fun, but it wasn't like she wanted to make a habit of it.)

As if reading her mind, Trevor spoke up.

“I’m not giving you any hints as to where we’re goin’,” Trevor said, “but I promise it’s not Walmart this time, even though the deals are as tantalizin’ and titillatin’ as ever.”

She glanced over at him, a faint smile on her lips.

"So... we're going to a Target?" Ash joked.

And then, as was Trevor normalcy, he kind of started rambling.

“Ah, feel free to turn it on tha radio if you’re not into…ah, feck, what’s his —“ He cut himself off as he tried to remember the song, and Ash listened as he started to sing the lyrics, and it automatically clicked in her head who he was talking about. “Come as you are, as you were, as I something, something, da da daaa —“ He snapped his fingers. “Nirvana,” he concluded, “that’s it — yeah, tha music settings’s your oyster. It’s got bluetooth if ya want to connect. Idn’t that nifty? I’ve always been amazed by Bluetooth.”

"Oh my god, I love Nirvana," Ash said with a small laugh.

Add that to the list of things they didn't agree on.

“And no, before you ask, some fella I smoke with decided to do some feckin’…renovation on my glove compartment an’ placed that CD on top of it, an’ before you ask about that, no, I did not give him permission, an’, ah, the CD was bought during freshman year, which we don’t talk about. Freshman year Trevor isn’t real Trevor; he was Trevor Lite, alright? Trevor For Dummies. I’m not the same guy, and it wasn’t me who thought that I’d be the coolest thing since sliced bread if I started ta try an’ tap into the ‘skater’ aesthetic, includin’ the leather pants and leather jacket and Def Leppard t-shirt, just because I thought I was hot shit for getting my hardship license and a minivan, then tried to teach myself to skateboard only to sprain both of my ankles, fuck up one of my tendons by slammin’ it against the front of the board tryin’ to scoot it along the ground, an’ wind up on crutches for all of the two weeks before we headed off for winter break — an’ then, yes, tried to claim that I’d not sprained it but had in fact broken it when I tried to save a kitten. It wasn’t me.” He chuckled and then let out a soft gasp. “Actually, it wasn’t him, either — that didn’t happen, forget I mentioned it. Don’t. Ask. Charlie for photographic proof, please, thank you.”

“Point is,” he said, “help yourself if ya don’t like the ambiance.”

God, he really could talk when he wanted to and, throughout his little story, Ash had pretty much just had the same amused smile on her face. It was funny, cute. Although there was something about the idea of young Trevor (who she imagined somehow being even skinnier and more... Trevor-y) trying to be a cool skater boy that really amused her. Like, she'd love to see pictures of that because, like... it was just funny.

"Okay, well, you totally should've stuck with it," Ash started, like partially joking. "Skater boys are hot. Anyway, I went to like a... Def Leppard concert a year or so ago with umm... Nico. I got a really cool shirt while I was there, too. Oh, but I was like, umm... I was talking to Newt the other day -- do you know Newt? Probably not. He's like buddy-buddy with Lin. Like, kind of like Lin but he doesn't say luhmao like... ever. Dyes his hair super weird colors. Anyway, we were, like, talking about music or whatever, because Newt's like a drummer and he broke his arm because he doesn't really stupid stuff a lot, and he was like 'I'm no Rick Allen' which is, like, Def Leppard's drummer and he only has one arm, right?" She was pretty sure that this was a tangent that Trevor could've cared less about, but talking about it actually somehow hyped Ash up. Or like, brought a little more energy to the typically fairly passive girl. Rock bands were something that she understood.

"Anyway, I was telling him that there's this thing that haters of Def Leppard say that I heard like... once, which is like... 'what has five arms and still sucks?' And the answer is Def Leppard. Newt got super offended by it, because I think he's a really big fan of them or something. I dunno, though. I thought they were pretty good live. Like, I'd totally go to one of their concerts again, just with like... better company." Ash said, finishing off the random tangent, and then kind of like... feeling a little stupid for going on such a tangent about it. "I bet Newt would go with me." She added as an afterthought.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, swiping over to her music app and she started scrolling through it, her teeth lightly biting into her bottom lip.

Right there at the top of the list? Nirvana.

"Alright so if you don't like, like... Nirvana and Def Leppard, what do you like? Like do you like any good rock? Like what about Green Day? They're literally my favorite band of all time. Or, like, The Smashing Pumpkins?"

mood
(imagine a little heart emoji here)

location
Arts Fest

outfit
sparkles

playing...
Today

by Olivia Holt (cover)​

mentions
Newt

interactions
Trevor

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Elizabeth Sterling

Elizabeth Chanel Sterling was known for being cool, calm, collected. Those three c's were basically the pinnacle of her personality, or at least the goal in which she strove towards. You didn't get anywhere in life by being brash, bossy, bitchy, hence why her sister still hadn't gotten anywhere yet.

But she prided herself on always knowing what to say no matter what the situation might be, never getting overwhelmed, just being... chill. It was just like... it was Beth. That's just how she rolled, and that's what people liked about her (or so she liked to think that was what people liked about her).

Now, however, their parents were arguing back and forth, exchanging jabs towards each other and using Beth and Tori as weapons to try and tear one another down. And there was something that was so familiar about this situation, and it really just served to remind Beth of why she'd cheered when their parents had finally announced that they were getting a divorce -- because she was sick and tired of having to listen to this. Because she was just... she was just ready for all of this pointless fighting that got them nowhere to be done with.

Plus people were starting to turn. People were starting to listen, they were starting to watch, and Beth could feel the eyes of their peers burning into her skin like acid. This was going to affect any kind of social standing or status that she just so happened to pride herself upon having, and she could foresee the whispers in some of her lit classes later -- people talking about omg, did you see Beth's parents fighting?

She was going to have to change her name, dye her hair black or something, and move across the country to escape this.

“Elizabeth, this is — just get them to stop!”

The younger girl, who typically had too much to say about too many different topics that no one really cared about, just stared at her sister in stunned silence. Although her lips were parted as if she were about to speak, no words came out, and there wasn't even anything going on in her mind.

Like, Beth didn't know what to say.

Beth wasn't hearing what their parents were saying anymore -- there was just an embarrassed ringing in her ears.

Plus how was she supposed to get them to stop?

Beth had never been successful in getting them to stop before, so why did Tori think now would be any different?

Helplessly, she just gave a shake of her head.

"I... I can't," Beth mumbled. Her words, typically strong and spoken in a confident tone, had turned soft and fallen in a near whisper, her voice wavering as she spoke.

And with that, and another shake of her head as she took a step away from their parents and Tori, Beth turned away from her family and walked away as fast as she could. She pushed past other students and families, weaving her way through and the crowd as she tried to put as much distance between herself and them as she could, and her steps didn't slow -- even after the sounds of her parents' bickering had faded.

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]

Adriane Holloway

It probably came as no surprise, but Adriane being nice to anyone was basically unheard of. Like even in her friendship with Chas, who she considered to be her best friend, she generally spoke to him in a demeaning way and insulted him every chance that she got. It was just how Adriane was.

So trying to be civil with Corey's family wasn't something that was particularly easy on her. Especially considering the fact that she wasn't Corey's biggest fan. Rather, she was probably the president of a hate club created in his honor. Not that he'd ever done anything particularly bad to her, but he just... there was something about him that truly got under Adriane's skin and pissed her off like no one else was able to.

Except maybe Trevor. Just hearing his name was enough to make her skin crawl.

Perhaps she just had it out for the lit kids.

Regardless, she would play the nice person because right now? Adriane held all of the power -- and she knew that.

“She’s so nice, Corey!” the girl commented. “And she’s really pretty! Don’t you think so, Corndog?”

Corndog? Eww, disgusting. Fitting that his family would name him after something as cheap as a common, artery clogging fair food, and Adriane had to fight the urge to scrunch her nose up in disgust at just hearing it.

She also had to stop herself from laughing at this girl thinking that Adriane was nice. Clearly, Corey hadn't told them anything about her, although why would he? It wasn't as if Adriane had told her parents anything about Corey following their breakup, but, well... she had told them about him while they were together. Probably enough that if they'd managed to come to the Arts Festival, they would've recognized him.

Clearly unlike Corey, who hadn't told his family anything.

No, that didn't sting at all. It just served as a... sign that their breakup had been a necessity. That they weren't invested in the relationship in the same way, and honestly, Adriane's career never would've taken off if she'd been weighed down by an anchor such as the loser standing next to her.

Adriane's only regret was wasting her time with him at all.

“Yeah. She is..” Corey glanced at her, but Adriane didn't bother looking in his direction.

“So, how long have you and Corey been friends, Adriane?” she asked. “We’ve heard a lot about Maddie from Corey, but don’t think we’ve heard your name come up now that I’m thinking about it.”

Oh, so he'd told them all about Maddie.

Of course he had. They were roommates and it was obvious to everyone except Maddie that Corey was hopelessly in love with her. It disgusted Adriane, of course.

Maddie could do so much better. Maddie deserved so much better. So yeah, when her friend had said that she was dating Jared, well... Adriane had been relieved that it wasn't Corey. At least Jared was actually a somebody, and he would push Maddie's career forward instead of dragging it to a grinding halt like the guy beside her.

"Oh, Maddie's actually one of my best friends." Adriane started to explain. "I was so surprised when I heard that she was going to share an apartment with Corey, but they seem to be getting along quite well. I visited a couple weekends ago and had breakfast. It was really lovely. Corey is just... so..."

With that, she did turn to look at him, her lips pulled back into a faint smile. "He's just so nice, isn't he?" Adriane asked, and she turned her attention back to his sister. "Well, or so I thought, until he so rudely blocked me over nothing. We don't really talk too much anymore, but I tried to not be too torn up over it."

mood
ugh

location
Arts Festival

outfit
stylish... I think

playing...
Fuck You

by Lily Allen​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Corey

tags
natsukashii

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ava Sanders

Despite the fight that Ava had had with Jules just before her performance, she still obviously went out to sit and watch it. It had taken a bit of searching, but eventually Ava was able to find her parents seated in one of the first few rows waiting for the dance and shit. She took a seat beside them and for the most part, Ava didn't talk. She was still quietly fuming, although she did her best to hide the anger that was bubbling inside of her.

Fuck JJ.

Eventually, the lights dimmed, the music started, and Ava watched as her best friend stepped out onto the stage with Eli. Her gaze followed after them as they danced, following the turns and other little things that she didn't understand at all, but she was here to support JJ.

Even if she was a bitch.

And then, Jules faltered and fell to the stage.

Ava just stared.

There was this moment which, well, was probably only a moment, but felt like forever. She tensed up in her seat, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, her fingers digging into the armrests, because something wasn't right. Ava didn't know the performance, but she knew that something wasn't right.

Eli started doing some more dance shit, but it... didn't... feel... right. Jules wasn't the kind of person that would've remained on the ground and let someone else take the lead. There was something that felt impromptu about this, like something wasn't right, but Ava couldn't place it.

The song ended, the dance ended, the lights turned on over head.

Ava remained glued to her seat, her eyes frozen on the figures on the stage.

She knew that she should probably go back there. Check on Jules and see what the fuck had happened, but she... Jules was pissed at her, and Ava was still pissed at Jules over fucking boys, and she had Eli, and she had fucking Dorian, so it wasn't like she actually needed Ava.

JJ had made her opinion on Ava clear.

Beside her, Ava's parents were talking about the performance and how good it was (obviously), but Ava wasn't really listening. She didn't want to keep listening to them talk about JJ.

"Yeah, yeah, it was great," Ava said, awkwardly clearing her throat as she pushed herself up from the seat. "I ah... I've got a friend, promised them I'd go see their project, so I'm just gonna..." she gestured behind her as she started to back away and, by the look of surprise on her mom's face, Ava didn't think it was going to be an issue.

Making friends had always kind of been something that had been difficult for the fiery redhead. It was probably why her parents had latched so much onto Jules -- because at least Ava was talking to someone and had some kind of friend that got her to do shit that wasn't staring at a screen in her bedroom.

After bidding her parents goodbye, Ava headed out of the theater room and just...

Wandered aimlessly through the main part of the theater.

Obviously she didn't actually have anywhere to go. Ava had been lying just so that she could get away from her parents, but now she found herself with nothing to do.

Eventually, her aimless wandering took her lazy footsteps into the area where most of the art shit had been set up, and that's when she happened to see that one dude from Halloween.

Approaching, Ava gave a little nod of her head in his direction as a greeting.

"Hey, nosebleed," she greeted with a grin. "Visual kid, right? What'd you do for your project?"

See? She was nailing this socialization thing.

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
Jules, Eli

interactions
Saint

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º