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

[Winona]

Casey Clairmont

The events of last weekend had been... they'd caught a certain Casey Clairmont by surprise. And to think, Casey had always thought that he'd be ready for anything that came his way, ya know? Like he'd know exactly how to handle any situation, but turns out he was super ready if anyone asked him "quick, what would be your plan to eradicate dinosaurs if they came back?" but nothing had prepared him for if a real cool boyfriend was dropped in his lap.

Casey'd thought it'd all been some kinda big mistake, and he'd tried to keep up an attitude of thinking none of this was wrong and everything was fine, ya know? 'Cept instead of Claudia agreeing to let everyone know it was wrong, she just hadn't acknowledged him, and instead Chas had taken Casey off the stage.

He'd followed along behind Chas, trailing along after his longtime friend until Chas had led him into an unoccupied room and closed the door after him.

Chas had drawn close and normally, Casey wouldn't have thought much about it, but there was something about being told "hey this dude's your boyfriend" and then having them drag you to an empty room and draw way too close that really messed with Casey's emotions. Was it just his imagination, or was it getting real hot in here? And was his heart pounding loud enough for Chas to hear, or was it just in his ears?

“Casey,” Chas started, “We have to pretend. Can you do that for me? Can you pretend for just a little longer while I sort this out?” He asked as he reached out and patted Casey on the cheek.

He blinked down at the short brunette.

His mouth felt kinda dry and the boy who typically had too much to say about everything -- even things that he barely understood himself -- suddenly had no words coming to him. What did one say when their childhood best friend asked them to do something like this, like date?

“We can have some fun with it. I’ll make it worthwhile,” he promised, “You do this for me, and I’ll make anything you want come true. Hell, you want a date with Priscilla? She’s yours.”

Huh?

Casey blinked again.

“Either way, we can go our separate ways and convince the world this never happened, and everybody lives happily ever after and no one gets clawed in the face by my mom’s poison-tipped nails. Yeah? How’s that sound?”

With a small frown on the blonde's lips, he reached up with a hand to brush through his hair. There was no way his sisters were going to be on board with this, and he could just imagine what Chanel would do when she found out -- and what would Lydia think when he'd just dragged her to this? Perhaps Casey could just ahh... convince her that it was because he knew this was gonna happen, and he wanted her to write an article on it.

He'd broken eye contact with Chas while he found himself mulling it over, and the boy who typically had zero thoughts suddenly found himself overwhelmed with choices and decisions and no one within grasp to tell him what to do, to tell him how to handle it, except the one that was stuck in this mess with him.

"Yeah, okay, yeah," Casey had said, and he'd nodded his head real vigorously like. He didn't know why he'd said yeah -- there was just something about the desperation in Chas' gaze, in knowing that his friend hadn't meant for any of this to happen that really got to Casey.

He hadn't wanted to let Chas down and, well, his sisters could suck it up.

-------------​

It'd been a week since they'd started doing the whole fake dating thing, and for Casey, it'd started to feel less and less like dating by the day. Like ya know, if he hadn't felt felt things, he didn't know if he would've stepped in when that Ezra dude was being all grrr or like ahh... to defend Chas from his sisters or something, ya know?

Turns out he didn't really have to do much being Chas Marino's boyfriend, which was real nice, but it was just all ahh... it was just all real confusing like.

'Cept that like whole suit dress date thing, but that'd been real fun, and instead of doing some kinda weird clown looking suit, Casey actually looked real decent. But he also had this real nice polka dot tie, which he was currently trying to get tied around his neck, when Chas came out of the bathroom talking all about how ready he was to go.

“Here. You’re doing it the bad way.” Chas said, and he moved forward to take Casey's tie in his hands. Casey dropped his hands to his sides, a beaming smile on his face as he studied Chas' face while he fixed the tie.

He wondered if Chas knew the kind of expressions he made when he thought no one was watching. Ya know, Chas had grown up like Casey and his sisters, so he was sure that he was always aware of his facial expressions, yeah? But in moments like this, where he was all focused on fixing Casey's tie, he looked ahh... well, he looked more relaxed than normal. Less guarded. Kinda cute, though Casey kept that thought to himself.

He finished fixing the tie and as his hands went to pat down Casey's suit, Casey broke his eye contact away from Chas' face.

“You look nice,” he muttered as he started towards the door.

"Ya really think so?" Casey asked with a beaming smile as he followed after Chas. "Thanks, ya know this real cool dude actually helped me pick this out." He explained with a laugh 'cause ya know, that real cool dude was Chas. Ahaha. Casey was so funny. "You look real good, too, ya know. Real ah... real hot. Real showstopper."

Casey was trying real, real hard, but he was also trying to figure out where the line was drawn when you were friends with someone and not really dating them. Like how much could he say before it got weird or something? Also Casey had never really dated before so this was...

All of this was just completely new territory.

He was gonna try his real best, though.

They took off to Chas' car, and Casey settled in the front seat. 'Course, the long-legged rather lanky fella had to kind of mess around with the seat controls so he could actually properly fit without being too folded up, and trying to fix all of that took up most of the ride -- oh and of course, the casual talk between himself and Chas. See it was cool moments like this where Casey could almost forget that they were dating--

Err, fake dating.

Now, they were waiting in the car for Hunter, Casey's good ol' bestie, and he found himself kind of fidgeting in the suit and tie just a bit while Chas was smoking on a little vape stick beside him.

“So, Casey, just so you’re aware, you’re not obligated to stick with me. As soon as we get pictures in, you’re free to do what you want,” Chas said, “Maybe Lydia’ll be there.”

As Chas looked forward, Casey found himself staring at Chas' profile. He blinked. Studying the side of his face. Did he really think that lowly of Casey, that he'd just up and ditch him? Dating or not, Casey was his date, and also his real good friend, so ditching him just felt wrong in any context.

"Tell me how you're feeling. Talk to me." Chas said as he held out the vapey thingy.

Casey'd never done any kind of drugs, but he wanted Chas to think he was real cool. So he took the vape from him, and he put it in his mouth and breathed in deeply... and then immediately pulled it out and handed it back over as he started wheezing and hacking.

"That's..." he gasped, trying to catch his lost breath. "Horrible..." He hacked for another few minutes before he was able to finally catch his breath, a hand obviously clutched dramatically to his chest, and actually speak.

He cleared his throat, hand falling away from his chest, and Casey grinned over at Chas. He leaned his head back against the headrest, his blue eyes still glued to his fake boyfriend's face.

"I'm feelin' real good," Casey started -- what kinda question was that even? "And I ain't gonna like ya know... I don't wanna just ditch ya when we get there, ya know? We're like ahh... we're dating... ah, fake dating, but still dating, and I just..." Casey gave a little shrug of his shoulders. "Lydia can wait, I don't gotta talk to her. I am gonna hang with Bella for a little bit, but that's ahh... ya know, not much."

As if suddenly remembering the box that he'd had today (which this roleplayer forgot about but shut up, it's been there all along), and picked it up from where he'd had it sitting on the floorboard between his feet.

"Hey, ya know, real couples do this, or real dates, or whatever, and I dunno," with kind of shaky fingers, Casey pulled off the top of the box and nestled inside was a purple flower for his little lapel-y thingy. Casey picked it up and held it out to Chas to let his not boyfriend but also kind of boyfriend look at it.

"Do ya like it?" He asked hopefully. "It was real hard to umm... like to find anyone that had purple lapel-y flowers, ya know? But I did eventually. It's ahh... hydrangeas or somethin'."

There was a hopeful little look on his face as he held it out, waiting to see Chas' reaction.

mood
hypeeee

location
Chas' car

outfit
look he has a fun tie

playing...
Kerosone

by Courage My Love​

mentions
Bella, The Sisters

interactions
Chas

tags
hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

Mikaela Ainsley

The dinner he had offered to split with her? Never saw it or tasted it. But what she did get a taste of instead had been perfect and left her a very satisfied guest by the time she left. And if she hadn't thought it possible that he could get any hotter, well he definitely proved her wrong.

"Now, what was that about having more in mind, Mikaela?" Ezra had asked with a hint of mischief in his laugh as she sat astride him on his bed, her hands planted against the soft sheets the only thing keeping their bodies apart. "I think you should show me."

A coy smile spread across her lips as she allowed a finger to trace his skin, dancing slowly across his collarbone and the fabric of his shirt like a feather.

"I'd love to." She said keeping her voice low as she slowly pulled her hand away and sat up straight, increasing the distance between them.

"But first," she hooked a finger under the collar of her blouse and slowly guided it to the side, baring a shoulder before pausing. "I think we both need to be more... properly attired."

There had been plenty more teasing that night as she showed him what more she had had in mind, and he had stepped right up to the challenge.

Moral of the lesson?

Always judge a book by the cover. At least when it came to guys like Ezra Gray. Hot face, hot body, hot night.

Did she feel a little bad about the time she spent with him now that she was standing here at the ball with Tori?

...no.

There were plenty of reasons why she would probably win the worst friend in existence award if such an award existed. Her encounter with the hot boy from New Jersey who her friend shared a history with, and remembering said encounter while in the company of said friend was two of the many.

Anyway with that little trip down memory lane finished, it was back to business which started with her leaning in close to whisper in Tori's ear, though her whisper wasn't really much of a whisper at all. In fact she was probably more than a tad too loud for Tori's liking. "I hope you're all ready for our wild adventure at the amusement park next Tuesday." She teased with an evil little smirk. "I can't wait to see your wild side in action."

mood
Time for some more fun

location
Winter ball

outfit
Hot dress

playing...
song title here

by artist here​

mentions


interactions
Ezra, Tori

tags
Winona ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

Lucky DuBois

Last time on the Dubious Life of Lucky Dubois things went to complete shit. It didn’t really surprise him at this point. This was the way life went. Trauma. Drama. Rinse. Repeat. It would be so comical if he could muster up the ability to have a good time. But after Josie caught him and Saint post-fuck, everything just kind of went on auto pilot. Nate and Mike were decent enough company. The drugs helped a lot. The fact that neither of them felt the need to intrude or gave a shit about why he was at Nate’s apartment helped. He was sick of talking. He was sick of caring. All it did was make him feel like shit.

Yeah, it was self-induced. He’d become what everyone knew to be true. And he just needed to accept his role. He was tired of fighting it. Tired of working so hard to prove the people in his life that he was any different from the poor, orphan fuck up from Brooklyn. Especially when he wasn’t sure it was true anymore. Maggie had made sure to inform him that he was a piece of shit. Made sure he knew how devastated Josie had been. How she cried. How she drank herself into oblivion. How the one person who had promised to keep her safe, did the unthinkable — okay, Lucky added that last part himself, but he knew everyone was thinking it.

It didn’t bother him. That’s what he told himself. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. That pissed Maggie off more, but then again, she ended up in his bed and at least kept in contact. Things at home were…tense. Javi was pissed. He didn’t quite understand it. Understand why Javi cared. Why he felt so strongly about Lucky’s questionable morals. Like a disappointed dad. And Lucky didn’t do disappointed dads…not anymore. He didn’t have time for that and all it did was piss him off. He just wanted to forget. He just wanted to not think about it again. He came here for music. He came here to have a life his father said would never have. He didn’t come to make friends and he definitely didn’t come here to be judged. He did enough of that himself.

The rest of the week went as he expected. Josie avoided him at every turn. Not that he blamed her. Not that he made any real effort to try. Maggie avoided him at school. Didn’t stop her from coming over and mapping out the many ways that Lucky was going to get Josie to forgive him. None of them would work. Which started a fight. Then sex. But he wasn’t complaining. Javi with his sudden moral superiority would barely speak to him and when he did, it just became a match of who could insult the other the worst before they stormed off. Javi had been the winner more times than he liked to admit. He was over it. He was over everything. Even Ash had cut off most communication. Just one more person that apparently had thoughts on his current situation. And it didn’t bother him. He barely even noticed. At least that’s what he told himself.

Head down. Focus on the music. Drink. Do drugs. A walking fucking ad for what not to do if you want to succeed in life, but it worked. It had to work. There wasn’t an option. He had a year and a half and school would be over. All this bullshit drama would be gone and cease to exist. There wasn’t a point in caring that much. He took a deep breath as he removed his jacket and tossed it in the back seat of his car. Kian had ripped his and was feeling like it was the end of the world. The kid was cool. Naive. Which was ironic given his propensity for snorting coke. But he liked him. He didn’t look at Lucky like he’d run over a puppy. But the tensions were high. And he was worried that if they didn’t figure it out, they’d never make it past the ball.

Another problem for another day. He couldn’t focus on it. Right now, he just needed to get to the dance and get this night over with. Amy had still wanted to go with him. He was sure it was out of pity…or obligation, but regardless, he had to ride in the car and hang out with Josie’s roommate. He needed a drink or anything to distract him, but he was driving and despite his current spiral, that was still one thing he couldn’t bring himself to do.

He slid his hands in his pockets as he watched Amy approach the car. “Wow, you look amazing.” It was the truth. Amy always had this radiance about her. Maybe it was the fact that not only did she look hot constantly, she also had a killer voice to back it up. He opened the car door for her and waited for her to get in before he made his way to the driver’s seat. He gave her a small smile—there wasn’t really anything to smile about, but he just couldn’t handle an awkward car ride. He just really needed this night to be over.

mood
defeated location
outside lucky's apartment

outfit
outfit

playing...
it's alright

by mother mother

mentions
josie, saint, ash, kian, javi, maggie
interactions
amytags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Charlie Howell

@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
vibinnnnnn

@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
kachow ; )

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
the ballroom

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
n/a

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
Lin

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
ohdittoh

Charlie snapped out of her daze pretty quickly once her heart got a few preemptive thumps out of the way. Even with the clarity of mind, Charlie couldn’t help but notice how good Lin looked all done up and fancy. It wasn’t often that Lin dressed up like that and if she was being honest, Charlie hadn’t remembered him looking that excited and dolled up in their years of knowing each other. Maybe it was the fact that they were dating now but everything seemed so much different in the best way possible.

Lin, however, didn’t seem to react as quickly. He was all bug eyed and for a moment, Charlie wondered if she looked really bad. That had to be why he was staring so damn hard at her. But then she spotted the flush across his cheeks and that weirdly heavy breath that rushed from his lips as he tilted his face towards the ceiling. No, she didn’t look bad, she looked-

“reallyreally hot, reallyreallyreally…”

Yeah, she looked really (x5, apparently) hot.

There was no stopping the impish grin that pulled across Charlie’s face as Lin continued to stutter and shift, creating space between them that caused the slightest of giggles to erupt from Charlie’s chest. She could say with full confidence that at that exact moment was the first time in her life she had ever rendered someone speechless in the best way possible.

“AaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhIIIIIIIIII —” Lin struggled with a shake of his head and the faintest of laughs. “Ah, I gave, uhhhhh, Bishi to the dogsitter already, luhmao, and, uhhhhhhhhhhh…”

As quickly as Lin had seemed to get clarity again, the Error 404 message seemed to be popping back up in his head again. Was this the human equivalent of buffering? Charlie was convinced it was and in her eyes, it was the sweetest thing in the world. Of course, that didn’t mean she was just going to fall back in the rhythm of being the cute girlfriend everyone expected. Instead, she simply crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her lips into a worried line.

“Lin, are you feeling okay?” Charlie asked, reaching the back of her hand up to press slightly against his forehead. “You seem really out of it. Maybe I should just,” Charlie dropped her hand and nodded to the elevators behind her, “go without you. We wouldn’t want some poor rebooting dude to get stuck in the middle of some gnarly flash mob or somethin’, ya know?”

Charlie turned to walk away, shrugging her shoulders slightly as she did so causing the golden curls to bounce against her skin.

“Well, I am pretty smart so let me try…” Charlie pondered aloud as her fingers found his sides, immediately going into tickle mode behind an endless stream of laughter. “I mean something has to work and as much as I think the stuttering speechlessness is so fucking cute, I would like my conscious boyfriend back so let’s try…”

The high heels made it much easier for Charlie to pull Lin in for a kiss, melting into his touch before pulling away just inches apart, warm breath mingling in front of their reddened cheeks. Charlie just looked into his eyes for a moment before giving herself a satisfied nod.

“Hey.” She spoke softly, a warm smile tugging relentlessly at the corners of her lips. “I was starting to think I’d lost you there for a sec. What a flex that would have been though,” Charlie giggled as she grabbed Lin’s hand and made her way over to the elevator, “‘oh, you think you looked good? I caused a whole ass dude a heart attack because I was that hot’.” Another laugh as Charlie gave Lin’s hand a squeeze as they stepped into the elevator, polished metal doors silently sliding shut behind them. “We could’ve totally gone down in history. Bonnie and Clyde? Nah, just us.”

Charlie remained quiet as the elevator carried them to the ground floor and their feet out the front to where Charlie’s bike had been stashed.

“Alright so here’s the game plan,” she began as she unlocked her bike, “we go make our totally important appearance, mooch some free food, dance until the music gets bored or our feet hurt, find something crazy fun to do that would probably otherwise get us expelled, and then bounce when it gets boring. Oh also, I brought snacks.” Charlie pointed out, unzipping the handbag dangling off of her shoulder to reveal an array of sweets inside. “Sound good?”

Swinging her leg awkwardly over the bike thanks to the dress hugging her thighs, Charlie backed up and looked at Lin again, a playful glint behind her blue eyes.

“Race ya there!”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰​

Was there a clear victor of their impromptu race? Not in the slightest. In true Charlie and Lin fashion, they finished their race far too close together to be able to tell the difference. Charlie was still busy declaring herself of the race, patting down flyaway hairs as they stepped into the ballroom.

“Holy shit, they went like all out.” Charlie hummed as she looked up at the chandeliers overhead, nudging Lin gently with her elbow. “Do you think you could get up there and like Tarzan swing off of one of those bad boys?”

A few flashes of nearby cameras stung Charlie’s eyes as she blinked a few times, trying to discern what asshat had just used the worst fucking flash directly in her face. Raising a hand to give a wave, she quickly flipped her hand around to shield her face from the flash. She’d never much liked paparazzi, much less paparazzi that was crashing a fucking high school dance, but this seemed like a perfect opportunity to kick off their night.

“What do ya think? They say no publicity is bad publicity.” Charlie questioned, a devious smirk on her lips as she looked up at Lin awaiting his answer.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: ball

OUTFIT: suit

LOCATION: ball

basics

MENTIONS:
Bella, Maddie
INT:
Winona (Casey)
natsukashii (Hunter)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Chas Marino

In the grand comedy of errors that was Chas' life, nothing had phased him quite so much as unpaid debts. If he couldn't make himself useful, he sure as hell wasn't going to be a drain, either. Hm, just who had conditioned that one? Claudia before school boasting Priscilla's test scores and Priscilla's bright future? His father who, quite frankly, Chas had called Mr. Marino more than "Dad" or his given name? Or perhaps the douchebag older brother, whose disparaging insults never quite left Chas' mind?

No one gave a shit. And neither did Chas.

And despite being so guarded, he couldn't quite muster the strength to wipe that dejected frown off his face, his eyes soft and weak as though he'd burst into tears at any moment. If he was miserable, he couldn't imagine just how unhappy Casey was playing "Valentine's Day" with his fake lover when there were just about a million girls out there drawing hearts on his picture at night. That was the curse of Casey Clairmont, though; the Internet loved him, but no girl or guy who entered his radius gave him a second thought sans the French girl, but even then under all those tough layers she hadn't the will to admit her feelings.

No one gets what they want. Either it's love, it's high school, or it's life, but more likely it's an amalgamation of the three. Chas scoffed and shook his head as Casey complimented his appearance, a wry smile stretching across his soft, youthful cheeks. The guy really didn't know how to stop. He was so... annoying. But it was sweet.

Sitting in the car alone was a separate experience. Had the pair been any other "couple" at the school, they'd have been getting it on in the backseat already. Chas really was a villain to deprive his childhood friend of that experience, occupying the blonde's one and only Winter Ball as a junior. Every second of time felt like a favor unpaid, topped with the hefty price of pity.

Casey took a hit off the nic, and coughed profusely. "That's... Horrible..."

"You didn't even inhale," he drawled quietly, taking the vape back. He wasn't annoyed in any capacity, contradictory to his tone; in fact, it was almost endearing how hard Casey was trying to do well for him. Nothing said annoying rich kid like toting around a fruity little vape, right? At least Chas was living up to someone's standards.

"I'm feelin' real good," the blue-eyed boy continued.

Chas cocked his head to the side a little. "Is that so?"

"And I ain't gonna like ya know... I don't wanna just ditch ya when we get there, ya know? We're like ahh... we're dating... ah, fake dating, but still dating, and I just..." Casey gave a little shrug of his shoulders. "Lydia can wait, I don't gotta talk to her. I am gonna hang with Bella for a little bit, but that's ahh... ya know, not much."

Chas smiled and shook his head, eyes glued to the floor. "Of course. You wouldn't do that," he corrected in a tragic, defeated tone, practically feeling his body sink into a pool of regret as he wallowed in his own self-pity, "Just... as long as you're enjoying yourself. I hope you get to see Bella."

Casey bent down to grab something, but Chas paid no mind while he stared forward, slouched in his seat. "Sorry, uh, heh..." He shook his head again. "I shouldn't be such a mood killer. You've been—" Casey's voice cut through, and Chas was half-hoping he'd just been ignoring his words while he searched for this elusive object on the floor.

"Hey, ya know, real couples do this, or real dates, or whatever, and I dunno." The blonde revealed a box, and Chas quirked an eyebrow once his attention had been drawn away from the parking lot out the window.

"What are you..." he faltered, the clouds in his pensive, brown eyes clearing as he got a better look at the box's contents. He was practically stunned, his jaw dropping a little upon further inspection of the purple flower whose destination was his suit's lapel. "Casey..."

"Do ya like it? It was real hard to umm... like to find anyone that had purple lapel-y flowers, ya know? But I did eventually. It's ahh... hydrangeas or somethin'."

He reached a few fingers out to grasp the flower, eyeing it with a dubious look on his face. A soft smile crept across his face as he admired the gift, almost like he was viewing a photo of a dear relative. Gingerly, he pinned the flower to his coat, unable to tear his eyes away from its beauty.

His smile dropped and a look of fear nested itself in his eyes as he looked up, releasing a little grunt of guilt. "Oh, no... I didn't get you anything," he admitted apologetically, coming across as positively woeful, an appearance which hadn't often manifested itself on his sour little face, "But..." He clasped the other boy's hands in his own and looked him in the eyes. "Thank you. This means a lot."

The bondage constricting around his heart tightened, the knot in his stomach tearing through flesh. Why do bad people get to have nice things? Why do genuine, honest, good people have to settle for worse?

"You know, that girl you're gonna see tonight..."

"Hey, hey, hey, how are we tonight!?" a shrill-voiced redhead said aloud as she opened the backseat door, "Hi, Casey. Hiiii, Chas..."

Chas cleared his throat and looked forward, completely shutting out his date's presence. "Hi... girl. You look decent. And Hunter, what did I tell you about black on black at night?" Once Hunter was actually in the car and the whole quartet was ready to get going, he drove them all to the ball's venue, dropping the pair of sophomores in the back off at the front. Once he was parked, he led Casey up to the entrance, resting an arm around his back, not quite reaching his shoulders.

He waved a cheeky grin to a trio with cameras, amused to know tabloids were desperate enough to report on a high school winter formal, even if it was hosted by the Hollywood Arts. "Don't suppose paparazzi on the road were as vicious as the ones down here, were they?" he remarked, his voice a little muffled from speaking through a big smile. Before he lost the nerve, Chas took an obligatory selfie with his date, then sent it straight for the gram with an array of copy-pasted, pre-selected hashtags.

Did Claudia even check these things?

Well, no... but her PR team probably did. Fucking Joan and all her cronies. For once in his life, Chas nearly longed for some normalcy.

And then, once all the photos were getting old, Chas' hand slipped down to Casey's hand, and he dragged the much-taller boy inside with him, disappearing into the crowd. The ballroom wasn't too shabby, but it paled in comparison to some of the events the major families of New York and L.A. put on. He wondered what Maddie was thinking right then, and if she too felt a twinge of remembrance for the winter night they played hide and seek under tablecloths.

Everything was simpler then, when he didn't have to worry about ruffling his hair or sitting in something sticky. Casey seemed to be happier having never graduated out of that phase of life. "Hey, stupid question: when you were younger at big galas and stuff like this, what kind of games did you play to keep from dying of boredom?" He stuck close by the boy's side as they traversed the ballroom, wary of getting lost or separated so soon. "If you think I'm an evil villain now, imagine me at age ten stealing the salad forks off of every table in the hall."

Heh... had he even told that to anyone? Besides his parents, who were very unhappy with him at the time of the crime. He laughed to himself. "Or one time, I, uh... me and a friend did this thing where we cooked beef tartare over the flame of candles because we were too picky to eat raw beef." He waved a hand in the air dismissively. "I guess those weren't really games. Being young with an image to maintain is kind of... dreadfully boring."

And there they were, just outside the heart of the crowd. Do they dance now?

code by valen t.

 

[Winona]

Jace West

Going on a date in a completely platonic fashion with your ex-girlfriend because you felt that you... what? Owed her or something? Yeah, the very basis for that probably sounded like a recipe for disaster, or something out of an overly flowery romantic comedy of some sort, but it was all ahh...

Well, it was different for them clearly.

Because Jace had made his feelings for Stassi clear and she'd accepted that and understood it. This was just a ahh... a formality, simply a friendly thing because she'd suffered through his awkward dinner to appease Jace's parents, and he'd agreed to go with her because she... didn't have anyone else or something?

Jace didn't really know why he'd agreed to this.

When they'd entered the dance, Jace had found himself looking around the room in search of any of his friends -- and by that, he of course meant his three friends. Dorian, Callum, or Landon. He'd already messaged and spoken to Callum for a while earlier, and he knew that they were all going to be with their significant others, so...

That really left Jace as a third wheel no matter where he decided to go.

Kind of pathetic really.

Stassi spoke up, and Jace turned his attention down to the girl by his side. She was speaking. Saying something about-- about-- about... acting natural? And he could leave to hangout with the people he really wanted, yeah? That didn't make much sense to the awkward blonde, though.

If he wanted to hangout with the people he really wanted to be with, then he wouldn't have agreed to this. Sure, he didn't find himself attracted to Stassi in any way, nor did he find himself ever wanting to be known as her boyfriend again, but that didn't mean he'd just stopped feeling stuff for her.

It was just-- he just-- he didn't--

It was platonic now.

It had... it'd... it'd always been platonic.

But now he could admit it aloud because he was (mostly) out.

"No..." he started, and then gave an aggressive shake of his head, although he stopped when he remembered the paparazzi was here watching them. It really sucked, didn't it? Knowing that he couldn't truly be himself, because there truly was someone always watching. He smiled down at Stassi, mostly for the cameras as a couple snapped pictures of them. "No, I-- I ahh... I mean, I'm... me and you, this is umm..." he lifted a hand up to gesture between the two of them, as if that might help the stuttering boy paste together his words.

"Date. Me. You." Oh yeah, that made so much sense. "I-I ah... uhh, I-I mean it'd... we're... on a, we're on that... that date, yeah? And I... I just... I'm not just... just gonna l-l-leave, because that'd-- that'd be... well, that'd be really bad. We're, I'm umm... here. For you. Tonight."

Bam. He totally nailed it.

mood
hahaha nervous

location
the Ball

outfit
this is the best you all are getting because finding this boy in a normal suit is impossible and you all know what suits look like

playing...
when i'm with you

by Jace West​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Stassi

tags
@AkuTheWolfOkami

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

victoria shantel sterling​

Tonight was the Ball; right now was the Ball.

After hours of curling and uncurling her hair, she’d told herself that it looked fine, but Tori still stop keep herself from fidgeting with it. Drawing in a deep breath and closing her eyes, she brushed the hair that framed the side of her face behind her ear, trying to touch it so gently that she didn’t recognize her touch as her own. She kept her eyes closed for a few moments, listening to Adele’s soulful crooning. She parted her lips slightly, singing along with the next words in a slightly offkey manner: “Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements, even if it leads nowhere?”

Jesus, she thought, her lips stilling, I’m hopeless.

She opened her green eyes, attempting to relax her face as she breathed out a long breath. She studied herself for a few moments, her brows furrowing and unfurrowing as she scrutinized every detail of her face. Was her lipstick too dark? She ran a slightly-shaking finger beneath her lower lip, not pressing hard enough to wipe any of her foundation off. Was her eyeshadow too dark? She patted beside her eyes with the pad of her middle finger. Did she have on too much blush? She prodded her cheeks. Had she drawn on her eyebrows crooked?

She closed her eyes again. Jeez Louise, Tori. You can’t just spend the whole night in front of your vanity. Well, she could, actually, but…no, you can’t.

She took a step back, reopening her eyes. She dropped her hands to her side, then folded them in front of herself, lacing her hands and pressing her knuckles down until her joints whined in pain. She pressed her lips together, her brows drawing together again.

This was it. This was all.

It felt really…anticlimactic. She’d gotten ready by herself to the soundtrack of Adele’s 19, checked her phone several times throughout her beautification to see no notifications (except for one from the McDonald’s mobile app begging her to come drown her sorrows in a free order large fries), and now, she just…stood alone in front of her vanity. There was no limo parked outside with no handsome boy of her dreams inside of it, holding back no confession of his undying love for her, resisting no urge to take her away into the night. There were no friends of hers inside of the walls of the ball who would be watching her as she strutted in with said handsome boy, who would be gasping at them as he swept her off of her feet and into a passionate kiss that felt like the magic they made it look like in the movies instead of some wet rag against her lips, who would be smiling at them as they shared their romantic dance on the dance-floor to some generic slow pop love song that suddenly had some meaning in her heart.

There was just Victoria Sterling, self-professed boss ass bitch, alone.

If Tori were less stable, she’d probably be crying right now.

Her eyes moved down to the cluttered top of the vanity, and from there to the top of her dresser. The sight of the blue flower, its blooming green frame of leaves, and the puffs of baby’s breath sprouting from its side made Tori’s heart give a turn. Her chest tightened as she approached the arrangement, and when she reached down to grab it by its wristband, her fingers trembled.

Slowly, she moved back toward her vanity, ducking her head and avoiding eye contact with herself. She lifted up her wrist, the reflection of her doing so a blurry backdrop to her shaking hand.

She stared at her empty wrist for a moment, swallowing hard as her mind whirred.

Then, meticulously, she slid the corsage onto her wrist, lowered her wrist to her side, and gave her reflection the most thankful smile she could muster.

“Thanks, Tori.” She barely breathed those words. Her vision blurred slightly, and she sniffled. “You’re the…you’re the best. The…the sweetest, the hottest, the one who…”

She knew that if she kept saying the words that she wished he’d say, she’d wind up losing her shit, and that wasn’t the goal.

She shook her head. She took back what she said about crying if she were less stable — even as a completely stable person, Tori…just couldn’t.

Tori tried not to pour over the life decisions that had led to this point as she grabbed her purse and made her way to her car. She tried not to curse herself for not just sucking it up and asking the boy that she’d refused to admit her crush for to the Ball, even when he gave her a chance. She tried not to mock herself for asking the first random people that came to her mind — Nate, then this guy named Henry, and then Tucker — and then going down the list of names of people who were online and landing on Jason West and still asking that guy, even though he was the literal definition of everything that she thought disgusting in the world.

And somehow, Jason had a date.

Jesus.

When she arrived, Tori hesitated in her vehicle. Her green eyes met their reflection, and she asked herself: which is more humiliating? Missing the Ball because you couldn’t get a date or going alone to the Ball because you couldn’t get a date? Missing the Ball where everyone knew the reason for why you were missing or going alone to the Ball where everyone knew why you were alone?

Her hand poised on the key in her ignition, she considered just turning the key and driving away. She could lie about the why, come up with some elaborate plan…

But she shook her head, taking the key out and stepping out into the cool night air.

She could deal with this. She was Victoria Sterling — the Victoria Sterling. Yeah, and anyone who looked at her sideways, she could just say fuck you to…

Right. Right, right, right. She would hold herself up high, keep her chin up, and everyone would look at her as she passed, gasping and pointing in an oooh way and not a hahaha way, because Tori was iconic.

She kept repeating this plan to herself, over and over again, past the ticket booth and into the venue.

But when she stepped through the doorframe into the crowded room, she lost the plan entirely.

She looked around, all train of thought lost, and her chest felt heavy. Her knees gelled.

A sudden voice to her left made her almost jerk out of her skin. “I hope you’re all ready for our wild adventure at the amusement park next Tuesday.”

Tori jumped, whipping around to face Mikaela. “Oh my God!” she gasped, clasping a hand over her chest. Her face screwed up in irritation. “You effing —“

“I can’t wait to see your wild side in action,” Mikaela said, smirking evilly.

Still recovering from the shock of the scare, Tori took several deep breaths, in and out. As the stuntedness subsided, she felt her nerves returning, her chest getting weighed down again, and her knees getting gellified once more. Her hand shook wildly as she reached over to finger at the silk flowers on her wrist.

Her heart gave a thankful throb, though, that the first person who’d come to speak to her was a friend.

Still, she scoffed and rolled her eyes. “A simple hello would’ve sufficed,” she scolded, “instead of you yelling in my ear.”

To be entirely honest, she’d forgotten about the amusement park appointment next Tuesday.

Shit.

Sighing deeply, Tori shook her head and rolled her eyes. “And don’t get too excited, Mikaela. I doubt that you’ll be able to keep up with me, anyway, so honestly, it’s not too late for you to call this off.” She hmpfed in forced amusement. “Plus, it’s…like, it’s a literal…”

She didn’t know what she was saying.

Sighing again, her face became far less amused and far more nervous. “You remember the deal, right? Like, what’s off-limits? Like, like, you’re not going to, like, whip out some fucking cocaine and tell me to snort it off a stranger’s back in the bathroom, right?”

mood
: |

location
the ball

outfit
a dress

playing...
be nice to me

by the front bottoms​

mentions
ez (we all know she's talking about ez), nate, & jace

interactions
mikaela

tags
Xed geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Kian Phelan

@lockandkian has set their status to:
ugh. just ugh.

@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
I broke my jacket

@lockandkian has set their location to:
the ball

@lockandkian has mentioned:
Felix, Lucky, Javi

@lockandkian has interacted with:
Damien (briefly), Mik, Tori

@lockandkian has tagged:
Xed ohdittoh

(tw: drug addiction, detoxing)

With a few simple, and likely harmless touches, Kian’s entire night was thrown off.

Okay, to give Damien some credit where it is due, Kian’s strong distaste for this stupid dance, or ball, or whatever formal fucking event this was had started with him waking up.

Yeah, it was that bad.

Benders seemed to become the norm for Kian, sneaking hits between classes in his car or a bathroom stall. He always promised himself it was just one hit, just one bowl, just one shot, just enough to get him through the day. But as the days progressed, more was needed each time to satiate the hunger, to silence his racing thoughts until eventually, he was just high all the time: in his classes, at home, walking Kelli home from school, rehearsing with Lucky and Javi. All. The. Time.

Kian gave up on trying to convince himself that this stint was just that: temporary, fixable, a reaction to a bad event. As much as he would’ve loved to blame his high on his constantly fighting roommates or his forever yelling best friend or the anxiety that kept him up late at night, heart racing and lungs aching as he stared hollowly up at the popcorn ceiling, he simply couldn’t. This was all him. He was the fuckup.

Unfortunately, benders come to an end, typically around the time when he ran out of paycheck to blow and excuses to give or opportunities to use. For the Saturday of the ball, it was sort of all three. Kian had ran his bank account dry between rent and paying his dealers and fixing the broken fucking muffler in his car. He couldn’t be high for his performance, the drugs were fucking with his ability to play and he couldn’t let the boys down. So, after his big Saturday blowout the weekend before with Felix, Kian stopped using.

For a day or so, everything was fine. Then the chills and the cramps and the vomiting and the sweats started. Kian told himself he’d stay sober.

The night before the ball, he was up almost all night throwing up. Somewhere between passing out on his bathroom floor and dragging himself into a cold shower and then to his bedroom, Kian must’ve fallen asleep or entirely blacked out because as quickly as he had closed his eyes, his alarm was blaring in his ears, each shrill beep ripping through his skull.

So, naturally, he threw his alarm clock across the room where it bounced off the drywall and promptly shattered.

Great.

Kian forced himself to get ready: into the shower, brush his teeth, fix his hair, shave that overly stubborn patch of hair on his cheek, don’t cut said cheek open. Already late to warm ups for JBN, he opened his closet only to realize that the suit he had bought to match Lucky and Javi wasn’t there and was, in fact, still at the drycleaners.

Why, you may ask? Well, he dropped it off and then went and spent that money on coke about two weeks earlier. Real fuckin’ responsible.

Without a jacket, he had one option: his handy dandy, highly trusted middle school formal jacket. Surely he hadn’t grown that much over the years. It was going to be a snug fit but hey, snug was better than noth-

RIIIIIIIP

Shit.

Jacketless entirely, Kian texted the group chat for Lucky and Javi about the whole incident which immediately resulted in a fight. His head was throbbing, his vision was swimming, his stomach cramped up and burned with each breath and they were not fucking helping. He snapped, Kian fully lost it, and then he got in his car and drove to the venue.

Kian spent the first bit avoiding Lucky and Javi like the plague, finding himself a quiet corner to get his mics checked before he did a quick runthrough of the sets to warm himself up. His fingers kept shaking, his eyes refused to focus on the music in front of him, his mouth ran so dry that he went through two bottles of water in less than a half hour. That damn dealer of his must’ve read minds because mid-song, his phone was buzzing with the guy asking him what he wanted.

He wasn’t sure how his dealer knew, likely just addict intuition, but he did. And next thing he knew, he was outside the back door to the stage with a bag in his hand.

Enter, stage left: Damien fucking Slater.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Kian nimbly shoved the bag into his pocket. He’d use it when he got inside, he just had to get through this conversation with Damien.

To be honest, Kian hardly remembered the interaction. He was pissed, Damien was pissed, they were pissed as a collective. But then Damien was tugging at his tie and Kian was swatting his hands away, calloused fingers expertly working the blue silk into a knot. He could feel the warmth radiating from Damien’s skin, the slight rise and fall of his chest as Kian’s hands rested on his collarbones, the smell of Damien’s aftershave lingering in the gap between them.

Why did Kian’s chest hurt so bad? Why was his heart drumming so heavily against his ribs? When did Damien’s brown eyes turn such rich shades of honey and gold?

Why did he want to do everything possible to break that distance between them?

"Jet Black Neon, you're on in five!"

An escape, a welcome fucking excuse to leave and one that Kian took no time wasting. That was the moment that Kian claimed that tipped his whole night upside down. Much like his benders, that stupid fucking thumping of his heart and the lump that formed in his throat and the ache that came from fighting with Damien all the time wasn’t going anywhere. It wasn’t anger, he wasn’t just missing his best friend. It was more than that, Kian could see that now.

He rushed to take his lines, two neatly cut up trails of white gone with an inhale, and then they were on stage.

Somewhere between their first and second song, the feeling hit him. The cramps subsided, his hands stopped quivering, his thoughts stopped gnawing away at his brain. It was quiet, nothing but the music and the cheers of dancing teenagers and the flashes of cameras. When they were playing, Lucky and Javi weren’t fighting. When they were playing, Kian had something to focus on. When they were playing, the lights shone so brightly in his eyes that he couldn’t see Damien’s face in the crowd no matter how hard his subconscious sought.

They killed it. They absolutely nailed it, as expected really. After Art Fest, their little impromptu band had gotten a decent following from the exposure. Javi and Lucky seemed to not be able to spend more than two minutes without threatening to kill each other leaving Kian the sole survivor of their gruesome friendship divorce but hey, they sounded really fucking good.

Between sets, Kian decided he needed a second to himself. Guitar still slung over his back with strap rubbing against his chest with each bouncing step, Kian said hello to a few peers and grabbed a glass of whatever the hell they were serving at the refreshment table, downing it quickly before grabbing another. It was on the way back to the stage when he heard the voice, a sweet melodic type of feminine voice that made every story sound like a fairy tail and every song cute even if it was sung horribly off key.

“You remember the deal, right? Like, what’s off-limits? Like, like, you’re not going to, like, whip out some fucking cocaine and tell me to snort it off a stranger’s back in the bathroom, right?”

That melodic voice was talking about drugs.

“You don’t snort blow off a stranger’s back in a bathroom.” Kian laughed as he walked up to the voices, the dainty crystal glass in his worn hands looking harshly out of place against his attire, guitar, and messed up hair from bouncing around on stage. “Well, I guess you could but honestly it’s a little unsanitary. You snort it off of your friend, duh. Muuuch safer.”

Shit, he’d done it again. Why was that damn boy always inserting himself into other peoples’ conversations? Quickly shaking his head at himself, Kian gave the two girls in front of him a nod and a gentle smile.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted.” Kian apologized in time with the crawling red flush across his cheeks. “I, uh, I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Kian, one of the super cool dudes that was just tearin’ up the stage just now.” Kian looked between the two girls and then back to the one that fancied a snort off of a stranger (ew), a worried wrinkle in his brow. “You’re not seriously going to use off a stranger, I hope. It’s, uh, kinda unsafe.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[natsukashii]

Tilly Phoenix

Tilly felt strange. It was a good strange, but being here at the ball, she couldn’t help shake the feeling that maybe it had been...too soon.

As she thought about how long it’s been since she was on an actual date, or at least since she had been with someone who didn’t make her feel like she was smaller than her fragile body always did, she glanced around. She was sitting at one of the many tables spread throughout and she was deep in thought about Jamie and how, after he went back to England after breaking her heart into shambles, she was looking across at Kayla , but didn’t say anything.

Tilly did that. When her mind was full, her words were close to nonexistent. She just found herself admiring Kayla for a few moments before returning her eyes back down at her lap.

Her and Kayla weren’t...well, that was to say, they’ve always been close. Kayla was someone Tilly held very close to her heart. Not as close as Eli or Gen. Nobody could be as close to her as the Johannes twins were. They were the big sister and brother that she never had and looked out for her in the way she figured older siblings would.

But Kayla, well Tilly wanted to talk to her after her breakup. She actually called her a few times.

Okay, it was definitely more than a few times, but it just went straight to voicemail.

There was a lot of confusion that set in and at the end of it all, maybe she was hurt. They had something that was definitely more than friends and then when she felt like she needed her friend, she wasn’t anywhere to be found.

At least that was until last week. She asked Tilly out to be her date for the ball and, like a puppy who had been abandoned by their master or something, Tilly immediately accepted.

Here she was, wondering just what exactly could be said in this incredible awkwardness she felt in the air.

As she looked around, Tilly rubbed the back of her neck. She wasn’t looking for a way out or anything, but hse was certainly trying to figure a way to not be so quiet. That was something she was working on, especially when with people she felt comfortable around.

Tilly faced forward, starting with a low “uhm..” as she coughed out and cleared her throat. “The music they’re playing seems nice.” She couldn’t help but point that out as an icebreaker of sorts. “I mean, the student performance is so amazing…” Even though she was genuinely impressed by it, it was clear that Tilly was still internally tense.

mood
Unexplainably tense

location
The Ballroom

outfit
Bashful in Pink

playing...
my ted talk

by mxmtoon​

mentions
Gen, Eli, Kayla

interactions
Kayla

tags
@AkuTheWolfOkami

º º code by ditto º º

 

[jasmyn]

E V E L Y N ~ 18

@ s i n c l a i r e

her apartment

nostalgic. happy. excited? (shh)

RED (evie's version)

tags

nate Winona

"C'mon Evie. When I said I didn't mind being late I didn't know you meant by this much," Dei complained, a roll of his eyes to really show how annoyed he was getting by having to wait on her. Look, what did he expect? That she'd just roll out of bed and go? Please. "Perfection takes time, luv," she replied, clearly unbothered as she continued to search for just the right necklace in her jewelry box. He didn't say anything else but the simple glance at his wristwatch did.

Of course, he wouldn't be complaining when all eyes were on them tonight. Dei loved the spotlight and Evie drew attention on a regular Tuesday so it was a given that together they would be one of the night's hot topics. With that kind of pressure she obviously couldn't let people down by showing up looking utterly mediocre, could she?

And just like that, her eyes caught sight of the perfect piece to wear and a pleased grin tugged at her lips. Evelyn pulled the silver necklace carefully from the box, stepping over to the mirror to put it on. It was a statement piece that was for sure and it was absolu-

"It looks good on you. Now can we head out?" Dei's voice met her ears once again. "Oh, calm down, Kordei," Evie said, spinning back around to face him. "If we were on time then there would be fewer people there for our grand entrance anyway," she reminded him teasingly before reaching in her bag and pulling out her lipstick for a touchup...

The flashback haunting her mind was ripped away at the sound of a knock that rang out loudly through her apartment. The vanity mirror she was sitting at came back into focus and there was her reflection, staring back at her with that same shade of red painted on her lips.

Her green-hazel eyes tore away from the mirror to the clock on her wall that she'd hung herself. Yes, it was crooked because her giant of a brother wasn't around to help but it was fine. She didn't even care how much it threw off the balance of her room's aesthetic. Pfft. No. Besides, the time read right either way and right now it said that Evie was running late AGAIN. Shocker.

When she climbed off of the fuzzy stool-like seat her bare feet hit the cold hardwood causing her to groan as it reminded her what she'd been doing before applying her makeup. The great fucking shoe hunt. Yes, somehow the fashionista had managed to lose the exquisite pair of LIMITED EDITON red bottoms she'd bought specifically for tonight. Obviously, she assumed she had much longer before Nate showed up to get her but surprise, surprise, she'd lost track of the damn time too.

(Pun intended, pls laugh. I'm funny, okay?)

So here she was, ballgown on, hair and make-up done but no shoes. Pulling the door open revealed such as she held the front of the dress off the ground to keep it from getting filthy. Don't start. Evie wasn't short or anything, the dress was just a little longer without the heels, okay? His dark eyes gave her the once over and she half-expected some complaining about how she was going to make them late over a pair of stupid shoes.

"You look... amazing." the grin painted on his face as he spoke caused one to tug at Evie's lips as well. Her eyes shifted from his to the suit he'd chosen for the night. Nate has insisted that she didn't need to see his suit before the dance and although she'd tried to protest he promised that he wouldn't wear anything she'd absolutely hate. Evie didn't always trust other people's fashion sense over her own so, of course, it had been like torture but it was worth it now as she laid eyes on him.

Her own creation. Each stitching was done with extra care and the color was perfectly chosen just to complement his skin. It was made specifically for him, everything was done with him in mind and you could tell as much. Although she'd spent a lot more time on his look than the others in her little fashion show she hadn't gotten to really get a good look at him in it with all the chaos happening at Arts Fest. "You wore the suit," she smirked, letting her eyes travel from his shoes up. "You're gonna be the hottest guy there. I mean, that outfit just gave you ten points alone," she said, only half-joking.

"We might be a little late..." she started, holding one of her feet up as if he hadn't already noticed. "I can't find my shoes anywhere. And yes, before you ask I do have a million other pairs but these are the PERFECT shoes so it has to be them," she explained, as she stepped back inside the apartment and went to searching. "I had them in the box all week but then I took them out to try them on again when I had that bottle of wine the other day and..." she trailed off as she made her way into what used to be Landon's room.

There were clothes were still strewn everywhere, some of which she'd pulled stitching out or cut tiny holes in when he'd pissed her off. A poster from, what she considered her brother's best movie, was still hanging on the wall near his closet. It was the lucky one seeing as how the others were crumpled up on the floor. Yeah, so that bottle of wine miiiiiight have made her a little "emotional".

Fun fact: emotional drunk Evie is a little more "be petty" and "get revenge" rather than "cry about it". Sue her. He was lucky that she was doing the petty route and not revenge, although maybe that also had to do with her being in a relationship now too. Can't get back at your brother for fucking your best friend in secret when you're committed to someone.

Five minutes in and she was just about to give up, pulling at his handle to close the door when she caught sight of them. She had been wearing the prized heels during wine-night after all because there they were, laid out next to a pair of Landon's dress shoes which she'd apparently put on and creased. You're welcome, brother.

Evie scooped them up and made her way back into the living area where Nate was still waiting for her. "Found them," she announced, dropping the shoes onto the floor and slipping her feet into them. "Now I'm ready," she declared, tucking a loose hair behind her ear and motioning towards the door. "Following your lead," she added with a playful wink.

coded by natasha.

 

[Winona]

Zeph Evermore

God, she looked so... so, so, so, so... freaking amazing, and he just--

Zeph knew that he should be complimenting her or something, but he just kind of found himself smile awkwardly. Sure, he'd seen Stella looking freaking amazing plenty of times throughout their friendship, but it was... there was something different about when you'd just given up and given in completely to your feelings, you know?

"Go..." he echoed her words, trying to process them, and then Zeph gave a nod of his head. "Oh yeah, right, I ahh... I guess we'll be umm... taking... Uber..." he let out a small chuckle, feeling a touch of guilt at not being able to drive his own girlfriend to the Ball, but hey, cars were expensive.

So were limos and what not, so yeah, the best Zeph had been able to manage was an Uber.

Yeah, he knew it was embarrassing.

"I ahh... yeah, yeah, I just, uhh..." with a little smile, he lifted the small plastic box in his hands. "I got you a ahh... corsage, you know? I just ummm... well, I couldn't... not..." another odd chuckle, and then he opened the box, pulling out the corsage (that nicely matched her dress, phew).

Somewhat nervously, he slipped the corsage over her extended hand, and there was a smile on his face. He leaned down, giving Stella a quick kiss, and then his hand found hers and he led her out of the dorms.

The Uber showed up, they got in, rode their way to the Ball, blah blah blah, you know how car rides work.

And of course once they got there, Zeph did his best of doing the whole super cool boyfriend thing of running around to her car door and pulling it open for her. His nerves had more or less vanished and so, as they walked up towards the Ball beside one another, Zeph actually felt ahh... well, he felt more at peace. Like he was just out on a basic date with his super hot, super cool, super amazing girlfriend, and...

Yeah.

Yeah, it felt almost normal now.

If you could ignore the snaps of paparazzi as they took their photos, or how overly lavish the inside of the ballroom was as they stepped inside, you could almost just... it almost just felt like a normal high school dance. Well, if television shows depicting American high school dances were anything to go off of (yeah, his school hadn't even had the weird middle school dances, and only one for your last year of high school).

"What do you wanna, ah... do...?" He asked slowly. He turned towards Stella, an awkward smile plastered on his face as he reached up with one hand to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck.

Well, he supposed they danced. That's all you did at dances, right? And Zeph was good at dance. He was a dancer.

Haha... he wasn't nervous at all.

mood
nervous

location
dorms

outfit
snazzy. classy. very handsome.

playing...
Uh Oh

by Junior Doctor​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Stella

tags
@Kitsune2202

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

kellian phelan

Not even gonna lie, Kelli was kinda really, super hype for the Ball.

Dude, seriously, ya know, she was all kinds of nervous — like, really, really, really nervous — for this Ball all week, but now that it was here, and now that she and one of her best friends were walking into this large, bougie building, she couldn’t help but feel the heavy wingbeats of the nervous butterflies in her stomach somehow turn into excited flutters.

She’d never been to anything like this before! Oh, wait, no, that was a lie. Actually, there was that one dance freshman year, first semester. She’d gone to that one alone, dressed in clothes that she and her mom had thrifted at Goodwill and spruced up with some sequins. But that dance was held in the cafeteria, and they had, like, bubble machines and fog machines and strobe lights that made one girl have a seizure, and then one of the coaches who chaperoned turned out to have been drinking vodka out of a water bottle at the dance, so they weren’t allowed to have another dance that year.

She didn’t really count that, though, because it was nothing compared to this. Nothing from back home was anything compared to this, but that dingy cafeteria dance, where the whole room still smelled like the bleh mystery meat meatloaf and boiled broccoli and also kind of like cigarette smoke and skunk, was really nothing at all compared to this dopebutt dance! The absolute spectacle of this! It was freaking wack!

Tonight was going to be a night of nights! You know, Kelli would admit that usually she was kinda exaggerating when she said that whatever was “going to be the best” or whoever “was the best”, but she really meant it for tonight! For the night, Kelli was a…a, uhhhh…ooh! A ballerina, in the palace of a Parisian king — wait no, a Parisian duke. She was the moment. Beneath these beautiful lights, she was a woman. All grown and stuff. She was going to be dancing with a boy — albeit just a friend, in spite of what her brother’s worrying would have you believe — and she was going to be dancing like no one else was around. The dress she was wearing, no matter how unworthy she felt to be wearing it in the situation she was in, was her look, and she was going to strut her stuff confidently.

Still…it was kinda…really big in here, didn’t you think? And everything looked so…expensive — and breakable. And there were a ton of people — like, a ton! And Kelli couldn’t even recognize a lot of them.

Kelli stepped closer to Bella, her eyes widening as she still struggled to take in the majesty of the scenery around herself. Second by second, her lower lip drooped further to the floor. Her breaths were limited to amazed gasps.

“This place is beautiful, like something right out of a fairytale,” Bella said. “I would not expect anything else from somewhere with such prestigious students. It is almost intimidating.”

“Really intimidating…,” Kelli agreed, a wowed, wide-eyed expression on her face. “Everything’s so biiiig and fancy. Like…woah.” She looked around, her blue eyes twinkling with a childlike wonder and reflecting the lights from the chandelier above. Her stunned, agape mouth curled into a bright, amazed smile. “How much money do you think they spent on this? Probably some big crazy amount. They have freakin’ chandeliers — and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many roses in my freakin’ life!” She skipped a step, considering twirling around like that one lady from The Sound of Music, but she remembered that, no, fancy people didn’t do that, and, for the night, she was a fancy person. Still, her words couldn’t contain her excitement. “Makes me feel like I’m in some…bougie place,” she continued excitedly, “like London! Or…or Paris.”

(Kelli was really into France recently, if you couldn’t tell. As of this week, actually. She’d bought a pair of Eiffel Tower socks from Amazon Wednesday. They were supposed to be in by Monday. They had these cute little pugs in berets and striped shirts on them. She’d already named the pug in the red beret Jorge — he looked so much like a little Jorge that she couldn’t help herself.)

Kelli followed Bella’s lead, and the two made their way to a looooong table full of fancy schmancy glasses that had…was that real champagne?! Oh my gosh! It totally had to be!

Kelli came to a stop beside the line of glasses, her bug-eyes focused on the liquid inside the champagne flutes that was truly sparkling apple juice, unbeknownst to her. Bella held one out to her, and with a wide, excited smile, Kelli gave a nod and a little murmur of thanks and took the glass.

OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH!

She was a genuine, certified fancy person now.

“To a beautiful night with beautiful friends,” Bella said, clanging her glass against Kelli’s, and Kelli chirped, “Beautiful night! Beautiful friends!”

She stared down into her glass for a moment as Bella tipped up hers. This wasn’t how she expected champagne to look.

With a shrug, she said, “Bottoms up,” and she tipped her own glass back.

She gave a pleasantly surprised “mm!” at the taste. It didn’t taste like alcohol.

Champagne tastes exactly like apple juice! Who knew?

“So, what shall we do?” Bella asked, and Kelli pulled her eyes away from a chandelier to look at her friend as she tried to blink away the purple burns in her vision from the lights. “Do you have to go meet Angel soon?”

She noticed that Bella was swirling her glass, so the clumsy girl began to try and swirl hers too as she spoke, going slowly at first before picking up speed. Nodding in her most fancy manner, Kelli said, “I do, I think. I dunno, he said he’d be here soon…” Her brows furrowed for a moment. “I dunno if he meant that he’d meet me here…” She didn’t know if he could drive or if he’d be riding with someone else.

Shaking her head to get herself out of her thoughts, Kelli gave Bella a bright smile. “But he can come join us when he gets here, you know! I dunno what we should do…” She took another long drink from her glass, then looked out at the other attendees.

Then suddenly, with a loud gasp — as though this were some revolutionary idea — Kelli looked over at Bella. With her free hand, she excitedly reached out and grasped Bella’s shoulder. “Oh my gosh, Bella! We have to dance, of course! It’s a dance!”

mood
: D

location
the ball

outfit
dress!

playing...
dance

by foxes​

mentions
angel & kian

interactions
bella

tags
geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Nathan Woods

This time last year, Nathan Woods had sworn off dating because he'd decided that it was better to be alone. He'd successfully ghosted the hell out of Amy and had already started sleeping around again -- and his Winter Ball had started with him going to the dance alone, but leaving with some chick that hadn't managed to get a date wrapped around him.

She hadn't been memorable enough for him to even remember her name, but...

Well, he'd thought that'd be how he would spend every single other dance that he went to. Not entering with some date, but showing up alone and leaving for a one night stand.

Lucas and Esther had always gossiped about how great dances were. He still remembered being young and watching as Lucas perfected his tie, or as Esther practically threw a fit over not being able to get her makeup just right. And then he'd stand behind his mom with his little siblings and watch as they posed with their dates.

Lucas ended up marrying his junior prom date, and Esther had married her sophomore prom date after the scandalous revelation that he'd managed to knock her up.

It had always kind of been pressed into Nate that he'd end up marrying his high school date to something, and he remembered his parents whispering about this little girl in his grade. Marcy or something. She'd apparently had a crush on him, and everyone was practically already figuring out their wedding vows before Nathan was even a teenager... or, well, that's what it'd felt like. And then everything had happened in a rush, and now...

Now, he was here.

Standing on the doorstep of one of the hottest up and coming fashion icons in LA, and he was wearing one of her suits, and she was looking absolutely stunning in a gorgeous red dress before him.

If you'd told him when he first started at Hollywood Arts that he'd be dating Evelyn Sinclaire, he would've asked you to share whatever shit you were on.

"We might be a little late..." she started and pulled Nate from his thoughts as she held up a foot. He looked from her foot back to her face, a little confused by what she was trying to say. "I can't find my shoes anywhere. And yes, before you ask I do have a million other pairs but these are the PERFECT shoes so it has to be them," she explained as she stepped back into the apartment. "I had them in the box all week but then I took them out to try them on again when I had that bottle of wine the other day and..."

Of course, it was shoes. The perfect shoes. Something Nate never really understood, but he also didn't really give a fuck about waiting longer. What would they miss out on? Longer having to fake smile and shit while people took fucking pictures of them? Sure, Nate had never really been targeted before because he was pretty much a faceless nobody, but well... dating Evie had kind of brought him out of the dark.

Like his Instagram for instance. He had more likes and shit, and he had a ton of fucking girls and dudes in his DMs (something that he hadn't shared with Evie).

"Take your time," Nate called after her as he followed her inside, pulling the door closed behind him, although his low voice didn't typically carry super well through rooms, before he added under his breath; "not missing much."

Well they weren't.

He waited while she looked for her shoes in the living room. There was a clock on one of the walls that was slightly crooked, and it was kind of getting on Nate's nerves, so he busied himself with fixing it so that it was sitting straight on the wall. He'd just stepped back to make sure it was centered properly when he heard Evie coming back, and he turned towards her, his hands slipping into the pockets of his too red pants.

She had the shoes in hand, and he watched as she slipped them on.

"Now I'm ready," she declared. "Following your lead."

"Almost," he corrected, and then he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips while his hands came to rest on her hips. He was careful to keep it light and not too much, and not... flatten her dress or something, his touch as light as the kiss. He leaned back after a moment, a slight smile on his face. "Ready."

Walking back to the door, Nate held it open for Evie and waited a moment for her to lock it, and then he followed her down the stairs to his car -- which he'd cleaned out just for this occasion. He hesitated for a moment, lingering mid-step as he tried to figure out if he was supposed to go open the door for her, but well...

It was Evie, so he figured the answer was probably fucking definitely, so he did just that. Headed down the stairs past her and pulled the car door open for her and closed it after her, and then they were off.

The drive to the Winter Ball was... as car rides go. Filled with some small talk, and Nate was sure that it would end up being the best part of the night -- because he wasn't sure how he'd find himself filled with joy at every other aspect of what the Winter Ball dance would hold for them.

He didn't dance. He didn't like pictures. There was no alcohol.

Sounded like a boring night to him.

Once they'd actually arrived, though, Nate tried to find a parking spot as close to the front as he could -- but given the fact that the two had arrived rather late, well... that didn't really happen. They ended up parking farther out and once parked, Nate did the good boyfriend duty of pulling the car door open and helping Evie out of the car.

As they walked away, he wasn't really sure what to do with his hands, so he just... sort of slipped them into his pockets. Evie wasn't really the hand holding type of girl -- he knew this -- but as they drew closer, and he saw the paparazzi, he ahh... well, he didn't really know what was to be expected.

"Do we... hold hands?" He asked awkwardly, gesturing towards the cameras with a tilt of his head.

mood
mellow

location
Winter Ball

outfit
this dude wears red suits a lot

playing...
Kissaphobic

by Make Out Monday​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Evie

tags
jasmyn

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Casey Clairmont

Now, Casey wasn't typically the kind of fella that got real nervous 'bout things, especially when those things had to do with like... dating and stuff. He was a fairly laidback type of fella (or well, he thought he was) that didn't really get nervous or worried 'bout stuff, 'cause if it didn't work out, then oh well, right?

That'd been his mindset with ahh... well, Casey'd never really dated before, 'cept for the brief time he'd been with Cici, 'cept that wasn't real dating. But that was the mindset he'd always thought he'd had when it came to real dating, that he'd kind of just do his thing and if his significant other didn't like it, then whatever, yeah?

'Cept he'd felt actual real nerves when he was handing the lapel-y flower-y thing over to Chas, and that whole ball of nerves in his stomach was something very new to Casey. Heck, the last time he'd felt this nervous was probably his first time going out on stage all by himself with just his guitar, 'cept that Casey had known what the response would be. It would be screaming fans, excited and in love with him no matter what he did.

But when Chas had taken the flower, he hadn't know what his response would be.

Chas had taken it, though, and he'd pinned it to his coat, and there'd been a goofy grin on Casey's face once he'd seen that Chas had actually accepted his gift.

As Casey was closing the box up (he still had a corsage hidden in its depths for Bella), Chas had started speaking again. Saying how he hadn't gotten anything for Casey, not that he really cared too much, and then he started saying something about ahh... 'bout some girl? And there was a curious but confused smile on Casey's face at that.

'Cept then, Hunter and Ronnie had shown up, and everything was forgotten as he turned around in the seat to say hi to his friend and his friend's date and wow, wow, wow, today was gonna be so good.

The drive to the Winter Ball mostly held Casey turned around in his seat, chattering away about who knows what with random stories as he tried to impress Hunter, 'cause if you didn't know it, Hunter was actually the coolest and Casey was still trying to make sure that his good buddy would keep him around forever and not realize Casey was actually just a really lame (kind of) pyro and toss him to the side.

All too soon, they were at the Winter Ball, and there was an almost wondrous look in Casey's eyes as they pulled up. Obviously being on the road meant that Casey had never actually been to a high school dance, and he sure as heck hadn't expected his first high school dance to land him with a boyfriend and a really cool date to the dance.

(Again, Casey was kind of failing to remember the fact that none of it was real. That the entire relationship was completely fabricated.)

Like good famous people, Casey posed with Chas for the paparazzi for a moment. He wasn't really sure how he was supposed to stand beside Chas. Did he put his arm around him or something? That didn't feel quite right, so Casey settled for a cheesy grin as he stood next to him.

And then it was selfies on Chas' phone, and Casey grinned his way through those, and then finally, finally, he was rewarded with being allowed into the ballroom.

There was a kind of awestruck, childish wonder in Casey's eyes as he looked around. He wasn't real sure what he'd been expecting, but this surpassed all of his expectations.

"Hey, stupid question: when you were younger at big galas and stuff like this, what kind of games did you play to keep from dying of boredom?" Chas' words pulled him from his stupor. "If you think I'm an evil villain now, imagine me at age ten stealing the salad forks off of every table in the hall."

Casey blinked down at Chas, letting out a small laugh. As they walked through the ballroom, Casey dropped his box onto a table to find later to gift Bella -- after all, he wasn't gonna be lugging it around all night, and no one was gonna steal a box seated on a table when there were paparazzi watching, right?

"Or one time, I, uh... me and a friend did this thing where we cooked beef tartare over the flame of candles because we were too picky to eat raw beef. I guess those weren't really games. Being young with an image to maintain is kind of... dreadfully boring."

"I dunno," Casey said with a shrug. Naturally, he found himself placing his arm around Chas' shoulders as they walked. "I just used to ya know, mess with my sisters a lot at stuff. I'd pull their hair or tap 'em on the shoulder and pretend it wasn't me. See I was a real good kid. Oh and I'd kinda play how long can I put my hand over the candle flame without burning myself?" He let out a small chuckle.

Well, Casey still did that one.

"Nothing real evil like stealing salad forks, though." He added as their steps slowed down until they were standing by the crowd that had already taken to dancing. Casey wasn't real sure that he knew the song that was on, but he sure as heck knew how to dance to one.

He let his arm drop from around Chas' shoulders, and Casey turned so that he was facing him. There was kind of an awkward grin on his face as he smiled at the boy in front of him.

Casey held a hand out to Chas. "Wanna dance?" He asked as the music turned to something a little softer. "I ain't all that good -- that's Cami's thing, but ahh..." To try and cover up that ball of nerves that was back in the pit of his stomach, Casey let out an awkward little laugh. "That's what ya do at these things, yeah?"

mood
hypeeee

location
balllll

outfit
look he has a fun tie

playing...
Kerosone

by Courage My Love​

mentions
Bella, The Sisters

interactions
Chas

tags
hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

saint andrew taylor

Standing beside the entrance to the main room gave Saint a good view of the night. People-watching was an old past-time of his, and this place was prime for people-watching. Couple after couple poured in the doors, with the occasional stray, lone attendee dragging in after them. With the unhappy-looking couples, girls who were dressed in next to nothing and already seemed tipsy clasped onto the arms of boys who looked like the last place they wanted to be was here, girls who looked as though they’d already fought on the way over stumbled in with smudged lipstick and mascara-smudged hands clasped together, and boys begrudgingly entered with tightly-clenched teeth and their arms tensely around one-another. Saint watched these with amusement, snickering on occasion when he heard some almost-drunk girl said something that made her date roll his eyes, or when one of the girls would make another dig at the date who she’d obviously already made cry and they would start bickering again, or at the fact that the boys tried their best to look so casual to the extent that they looked so obviously angry.

There was some kind of odd unease that crept into Saint’s chest as he watched the happy-looking couples, though. Seeing the smiles, hearing the “I love you”s and then “you look gorgeous”es and then “you look handsome”s. Seeing the matching corsages, watching them take photos at the photobooth with loud laughter that echoed through the halls.

It was nauseating, for one reason or another.

Saint was soon spared from having to endure the nauseating views of happy couples, as, after he’d been standing there for what could’ve been no longer than five minutes, he heard a voice to his left.

“Having fun yet?”

Turning his head to face a rather unamused looking Ava, Saint gave a slight incline of the head. “It’s a night where the couples who celebrate three-day anniversaries like it’s the same as being married for twenty-five years make out on the dance floor to ‘Take On Me’ and pretend they’re in a teen movie and that the world revolves around them when in reality, they’ll break up next week and delete every photo they’ve taken here…,” he said, his monotone voice even more exhausted than usual. “I’m not sure if you would call that fun…”

Those weren’t his actual feelings, but these feelings felt more apt for the moment. They also seemed to suit him better, anyway.

He gave her a once-over. “I like the outfit,” Saint said, “but I can’t say that I expected you to get so dressed up…” He uncrossed his arms, turning and beginning to make his way inside. “Is there someone you’re looking to impress tonight…? Some special girl…?”

He was mostly kidding her; there were never really any important conversations for the two to hold regarding romance, anyway. The topic never really stuck around for very long.

"They always go full out for these events…" Saint studied the polished floor as they made their way further into the room. "It's almost like they expect something more to come of this than bathroom babies and a chlamydia outbreak…" He gave a single snicker. "They've probably spent enough money on this to feed a third-world country…for months." Crossing his arms again, he remarked, "It shows their priorities…they'll do a charity car wash to get their teenaged sex icons in skimpy outfits, but they'll blow all of their money on fru-fru events like this…hm."

mood
dead

location
the ball

outfit
feathers

playing...
god's plan (drake cover)

by our last night​

mentions
n/a

interactions
ava

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: danthe

OUTFIT: matchy king!!!!!

LOCATION: ballroom

basics

MENTIONS:
Abby Lee Miller, Lucky, Ash, Kian
INT:
mogy (Oates)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

On this special December evening, everything was nice and fine and, quite unexpectedly, not half bad. Callum wasn't one to harp on the happier things in life, much less in the passive narration following him, but here he was in the car, eyeing himself out of some heightened need to impress as though his boyfriend hadn't already stuck around for the majority of two years, give or take. Although uncomfortably chilly thanks to the icy bite of the night, a crooked smile found itself nestled onto the shivering boy's ashen face.

In a period where good things came as more of a pleasant surprise than a daily need, the sight of Oates approaching his vehicle in the left side mirror was a relief. His boyfriend's cheery smile and rosy cheeks radiated a warmth so inviting, Callum's anemia slipped out the door and never came back.

…If only that were possible. "It's freezing," he griped, looking the curly-haired boy up and down as he entered the passenger seat. He didn't really understand fashion and he wasn't sure Oates did either, but their suits were matching and that was just about the length of effort Callum was satisfied with. "You look good," he complimented tersely, his thin lips posing a quick smile

His attention turned to the small pile of papers resting on the passenger seat, and the realization dawned on him that the polite thing would be to move them. He hesitated a moment, knowing Oates would move them without complaint and that he cared for basic manners far less than Oates did. Without another thought, he took hold of the papers and tossed them in the back haphazardly. After all, they were only medical documents and the like. Maybe a part of him was subconsciously averse to his boyfriend laying eyes upon that information, but if he was, he'd never admit it to himself let alone another person.

With the two settled and finally ready to get going, Callum straightened his slouched posture a little, started the car, and pulled out from his spot with a remarkably lazy pair of eyes half-scanning the road for hazards. Driving was so exhausting, but it was his car, so he had somewhat of an obligation to be the one chauffeuring the two of them to the dance. The car hadn't seen much use aside from the daily trip to school thanks to Callum's sedentary lifestyle, but hey, his grandparents knew the useless investment they were making when they first elected to get him this car.

When he'd found out where the check that paid for his car came from, the spindly boy raised more than a few objections, but in the end, he was lucky to be receiving any amount of money from either of his parents after the past ten years of radio silence. At this point, he couldn't possibly have stood to gain any joy from cashing in on semi-anonymous parental guilt, but it did ease the burden on his grandparents a bit, so he inevitably supposed the smart thing to do was to bite his tongue and buy the damn car.

"You excited, O?" he offered, charitably breaking the silence the pair knew he cherished so highly, "Apparently the venue's really nice. Guess that's where all our tuition money is going instead of, you know, making education in the arts a little more affordable." At his senior year in one of the most prestigious youth dance programs in the country not sponsored by Abby Lee Miller, half of his motivation still lied in repaying his family for shelling out all that cash on his behalf. Callum could sleep quite comfortably knowing he'd disappointed himself, but that sweet old couple in Virginia? They'd be devastated if something bad happened to his career.

Them and Oates. Even in their darkest days as a couple, the other dancer never openly wished any ill-will upon him. And then, he began to wonder, what he would do if they broke up for real and suddenly this whole dancing thing was without half its purpose. Oates had to have known that too, right? Unless he was giving Callum too much credit, as usual.

Once he'd snagged a spot close to the entrance, the tall boy placed an arm around his boyfriend's waist and escorted him inside, shielding himself from the voracious cameramen outdoors. They didn't appear too interested in him compared to some of the other ball attendees, but an unsolicited photo here and there came with the whole "Hollywood Arts" territory.

The light inside the ballroom was expectedly dimmer than the well-lit outdoors, a welcome feature of the dance. It wasn't hard to tell who was a model and who was a musician and who was a nobody artist, as even under all those layers of Hollywood glitz and glamour was still a teenager adapting to a lifestyle in the limelight. That and some suits fit way better on some guys than others, as real professionals had a tailor.

Callum was not one of those people, but at least he knew better than he let on. No one attended this godforsaken school and didn't pick up a thing or two on superficial rich, performing arts school culture.

Oh god, had he integrated into the bourgeoisie? This happened a bit too easily...

The skeleton of a dancer removed his arm from Oates' side and shoved his hands in his pockets. Mostly out of dancer instinct, his body moved slightly to the rhythm of the music playing until he came to realize the live voice singing was oddly familiar. Then, in a painful twist of fate, he identified that voice as Lucky, whose last name Callum never bothered to learn. That was the guy who clocked him in the side of the face on one of Ash's famous "boyfriend crusades", where some guy steps in and aggressively tries to fix her problems.

Yeah, he'd been friends with the girl for two years. This wasn't a new thing, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time he'd be victimized because of her pleasant social circle.

And, in a more amusing twist of irony, Callum recognized the lead guitarist to be that guy from Oates' hometown, the one who basically called him the devil because he was so obviously jealous that Oates was in a happy relationship and he was bitter about it or something. "Hey, it's your friend," he pointed out innocently, directing the slightly shorter boy to where the band was playing, "Haven't talked to him in a while." In a more hushed tone, he muttered, "Hope he still hates his life."

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

MOOD: ball

OUTFIT: suit

LOCATION: ball

basics

MENTIONS:
n/a
INT:
Winona (Casey)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Chas Marino

Chas felt exponentially more at ease with Casey's arm around his shoulders. He hated to admit it, but he really could have used the comfort, even if the boy leading him around likely hadn't given the gesture a second thought beyond typical dance pair protocol. Once the blonde opened his mouth, he looked up at him.

"I dunno. I just used to ya know, mess with my sisters a lot at stuff. I'd pull their hair or tap 'em on the shoulder and pretend it wasn't me. See I was a real good kid. Oh and I'd kinda play how long can I put my hand over the candle flame without burning myself?" He let out a small chuckle, because what freak didn't top off their concerning stories with a laugh?

"Ah. Of course..." Chas cleared his throat, once again finding himself at a loss for words. If the flame thing wasn't tragically unrelatable, the idea of messing with his siblings was an even more alien concept. After so many years of being the butt of the jokes and the recipient of all the torture, as well as the last in line for anything, the concept of actually giving it back to his siblings was rather... novel. Even in the pettiest of forms.

"Nothing real evil like stealing salad forks, though."

"Yeah, well excuse me, Ghandi, don't let me get in your way."

For a brief moment, the two boys merely stood smiling at one another as though imitating a mirror's reflection. Casey wanted to say something; it was written on his face, the most damning evidence being the awkward grin that had found itself on said face.

He reached a hand out. Chas looked down at it, then up at him, confused. "Wanna dance?" Hmm. Interesting proposal. "I ain't all that good -- that's Cami's thing, but ahh...That's what ya do at these things, yeah?" It was a reasonable offer, and honestly a good idea if they were going to be diligent in keeping up the whole "dating" act, but...

Chas fell silent. It didn't feel right. All of the stress around him kept him from even remotely picking up on the beat of the song, let along how to move his body with it. A silent moment passed by while he looked at his date uneasily. Surely he would understand. It was a weird time. Yeah, it was a dance, but...Come on. It was weird. Perhaps that was an insult to Casey, who was giving it all his best effort, but something was keeping Chas from indulging in the fun of the ball.

"You know, uh, dancing isn't really my thing," the Italian half-lied, looking anywhere but Casey's face. He didn't elaborate despite not offering something other than a rather boring shutdown of the offer. "It's just..." He looked at the crowd. "I don't know."

He laughed to himself, rubbing his forehead. "I hate this. I've known you so long I could say or do anything around you and feel no shame about it. I mean, honestly, Casey, if I went and kicked you in the crotch, I probably wouldn't feel any remorse at all. But right now, all I feel is guilt." Words stopped leaving his mouth not because he couldn't find them, but because something about baring his heart out for someone was painful and humiliating. "It was just getting to me for a second. Sorry about that," he finished, dismissing his previous words with a forcibly flippant expression.

"You're right. We should dance." The short boy turned on his heel and melded with the crowd, crinkling his nose at all the dirt, heat, and smells of other people. He looked back at Casey and started dancing, beckoning him to join in with the lovely tradition that is bouncing around in a crowd packed tighter than sardines. He looked around the room, to what little extent he could keep his head over other people's shoulders. He wasn't looking for anyone or anything in particular, but anything to look busy helped. Somehow, it felt like every eye in the room was on him in the worst way possible.

He could really have used a "There, there." right then, or at least Casey's hand around his shoulder again.

code by valen t.

 

[gh0stwriter]

Landon Sinclaire

Things were good. They had been great, actually. The surf trip was a success. And by success, he meant that Iace never caught a single wave. Not one. And they had been there for hours. But…he did stand on the board by himself for three seconds before crashing into the ocean. Landon was calling it a success. Jace had fun. He wouldn’t admit it, but he knew. Plus it was quality bestie time and Landon really needed that. They lived together, but he was always so busy and Jace was so focused on his music, they barely got to hang out.

The screen test with Stella had also been a success. He was pretty sure that they nailed it. He wasn’t sure signing onto a series was going to be a good idea right now, but it shot in LA and he was still going to be able to stay enrolled in HA, so it was a win/win. And if it was a hit, well, then that would be that much sweeter.

But the best part of the last week was Gen. Their first date was a success, but he wasn’t too worried. They’d been practically dating for months. It was just official now. Everyone wanted to just act like they were just fucking. That it wasn’t worth losing his relationship with Evie over it, but it was more than that. It had always been more than that. Gen got him in ways no one did. Gen had been there in ways no one had. And now, they were dating. They’d spent most of the week together, obviously, but tonight was the first school event. The first time they’d be at a school function as a couple.

It wasn’t that big of a deal. Landon didn’t really care. But others did. They were both in the spotlight. They both had people watching their every move, waiting forever this to blow up for fall apart, but Landon wasn’t going to let it. They worked. They were happy. And that was all that mattered.

He grabbed his tie from the bedpost. He’d spent an hour trying to find it. He was convinced Jace moved it. Then, upon learning about Debbie (their cleaning lady), was convinced she stole it to buy drugs. Neither proved to be true. It was tied to the bedpost. Gen…his gorgeous, hot, amazing girlfriend had thought it’d be hot to be tied up on the bed. And it was. So fucking hot. But Jace had one rule. And Landon had followed it. But the tie was untied. Landon didn’t know how to tie it. Evie used to tie it for him. She’d call him a giant. He’d call her an elf. It’d become a tradition. Like, they couldn’t go to the event without that little exchange.

He missed Evie. Missed their talks. They’d always get ready for the dances together. Evie liked to make sure Landon looked his best and would gladly sit there while she was getting ready and dismiss the various pieces of clothing he’d pull out of the closet until his ensemble was perfect. He took a deep breath as he gave up on the tie. He was still looking good. And needed to get on the move before fashionably late turned into Gen kicking his ass.

He rushed over to Gen’s house. He had insisted on picking her up. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. He stepped out of the car and adjusted his jacket and ran his fingers through his hair. He flashed a smile in his side mirror of his Jeep and made his way toward the front door. Knock. Knock. He banged his fist against the door twice and waited for the answer. He usually just walked in, but again, tonight was about being a gentleman. The door opened and Gen was on the other side. His eyes widened and his mouth went dry.

God. Damn.

“Hey handsome. I was starting to worry you were going to stand me up.” His girlfriend was hot. Capital H. O. T. Plus, she was also beautiful. And it was going to be a shame to damage that dress, but he was going to ravage her at some point tonight.

When the blood rushed back to his head and he was able to have coherent thoughts again, he smiled. “Who? Me?” He spun around in his suit and leaned against the frame. “While your natural beauty is effortless, I needed to put in a little extra work.” He joked. “Had some tie troubles.” He motioned to his lack of a tie. “But no one is even gonna look in my direction when they see you attached to my arm. You look stunning.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “And super fucking hot.” He smiled as he placed a kiss on the top of her hand. “You ready to go? Or do you need a few?”

mood
stoked

location
the johannes'

outfit
lookin' good

playing...
anything for you
by Ludo

mentions
Evie, Jace, Stella

interactions
Gen

tags
geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[natsukashii]

Hunter Drake

“Shall we? When’s our chariot arriving?”

“That’s a good question,” Hunter thought, though it slipped out unintentionally.

The pair of sophomores made their way out of the dormitory building and, though the crisp Southern Californian night air wasn’t as crisp as other places this late would be it, Hunter found it to be extremely uncomfortable for a lot of reasons but mostly because he figured Chas and Casey would be here already. At least, he assumed that his idol and best friend (one of them anyway) would be punctual.

(Let the record reflect Hunter wasn’t nor will ever judge Chas Marino. He was merely making an observation.)

But the cold breeze made Hunter think about something: if he was feeling it, did that mean--

Right. Better fix that real quick.

As Hunter slipped off his jacket, he didn’t bother saying anything as he draped it over Ronnie’s exposed shoulders. Did he have any hint that she was cold? Nope, but instead of being the ignorant asshole who didn’t read between the lines, he thought it would benefit him to just assume this time around. Besides, who wouldn’t be shivering with their shoulders exposed like that?

“Don’t mention it.” He said as he just took her hand without really making a big deal about what he just did for Ronnie.

A few seconds later, in the pocket of his shirt, his phone buzzed. He received a text message from Chas saying to hurry up. It had only donned on him that the entire time they had been standing outside, Chas and Casey were just a few clicks east of where they were, near the damn entrance.

And this is why Hunter hated standing outside when it was barely light out. “There they are.” He pointed to the car, spotting Chas in the driver’s seat.

Hunter pulled Ronnie with him and after a few minutes of walking, he went to opent he door for her like the gentleman he was, but Ronnie was so excited that she opened her own door and her usual high-pitched, energetic voice screeched in his ear. The Hunter of Old might’ve taken issue to that.

Well, the Hunter of Now did, but not because of reasons he might’ve before. No, the reason Hunter found issues with it was that he was fairly certain that he was gonna go deaf in that ear sooner than later.

Well, it wasn’t important, so he got inside behind Chas, because of course, Hunter Drake would. Like that was a surprise to any.

“And Hunter, what did I tell you about black on black at night?"

Cracking a smile, Hunter shrugged. He didn’t want to ruin his cred with Chas by saying his stepmom bought this, which he glanced at Casey for a split second as if telling him to not say anything or give any indication about that. “Well, what can I say? I always wanted to be a ninja.”

And not long after that, they were off to see the wizard the ball. Chas had dropped Hunter and Ronnie at the front of the venue. “Thanks for the ride. Guess we’ll see you inside later.” Hunter said to Chas and gave a fistbump to Casey before he led Ronnie inside, his arm with hers. He had his jacket back on, but he looked at her before they went into the main ballroom. “If ya get cold, or you know if you want to have my jacket, just lemme know, alright?” God, Hunter really did get soft when he wasn’t feeling bitter, didn’t he?

With that last bit said, they made their way into the ballroom and, well Hunter never was the type to care about the layout or anything like that. Truth be told, when it came to designing, he sort of checked out. He wasn’t in visuals. The only thing he could make a note of was how thirsty he suddenly found himself getting.

They found a table to temporarily park themselves at and mostly just so both of them could sit and Hunter looked towards his golden-clad date with a smile. “Hey, you thirsty, Ronnie? Cause I’m fucking parched. I think I want some punch. Want me to grab us a couple of cups and then maybe get a dance in if you think you can handle--” He shook his upper body in a teasing manner, “--this?”

mood
Fly like a G6

location
Hollywood Arts Dorm Building

outfit
Back in black

playing...
Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)

by The Offspring​

mentions
Ronnie, Chas, Casey

interactions
His smoking date, Idol, and Bestie (one of them

tags
hery Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

Lindsay Kay was known for talking and never shutting up, no matter how much you begged him to. Duh. He was a Class S troll who couldn’t be stopped, ess-em-aych. Get it straight, luhmao. But, ya know, the thing was…uhh…

Right now, he couldn’t get any words. No words to the brain. No words to the mouth.

No thoughts, only hhhhhh.

Which occasionally came out as hot, because Charlie hot girlfriend hot say hot.

(Lin had caveman brain when he was flustered. If you’ve forgotten that fact, brush up on your Lindsay Kay lore, ‘kay? Ess-em-aych.)

Charlie’s grin spread wider and wider the more he floundered and the more that he could feel his face was reddening.

“Lin, are you feeling okay?” she asked, reaching out with the back of her hand and pressing it against his forehead. “You seem really out of it.”

Lin swallowed. “Hhhh…”

“Maybe I should just —” Charlie dropped her hand and nodded back to the elevators. “— go without you.”

He blinked rapidly a few times. “Hhhhuh?”

“We wouldn’t want some poor rebooting dude to get stuck in the middle of some gnarly flash mob or somethin’, ya know?” Charlie said.

Swallowing and blinking hard, Lin began to shake his head frenziedly. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Charlie turned away, shrugging. “Well, I am pretty smart so let me try…” Her hand trickled down to his side, and before he could realize what was going on — “AGH!” — his girlfriend was tickling his ribs, and he was overcome with a frantic fit of laughter. “I mean something has to work and as much as I think the stuttering speechlessness is so fucking cute, I would like my conscious boyfriend back so let’s try…”

The laughing boy, with no time to recover from the tickling bit, was pulled in for a kiss.

DUDE.

He melted into the kiss after a moment, his muscles, tense from the laughing, relaxing.

Charlie pulled back slightly, and he looked into her eyes with a wild expression. His blue eyes were still kind of blank, but the grin on his face was far wider than before.

ERRORERRORERROR, his brain was sending him.

But his mouth said, “Hi.”

“Hey,” she said, smiling warmly. “I was starting to think I’d lost you there for a sec.”

Lin’s cheeks darkened, and he chuckled. “I, uh.”

“What a flex that would have been though,” giggled Charlie as she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the elevator. “‘Oh, you think you looked good? I gave a whole ass dude a heart attack because I was that hot.’”

Lin cackled along with Charlie as they stepped into the elevator, squeezing her hand back as she squeezed his. “Then they’d be like, ‘Dude, an ass dude?’ Luhmao!”

“We could’ve totally gone down in history. Bonnie and Clyde? Nah, just us,” Charlie said.

“Coulda?” he repeated, then he shook his head, his face set in determination. “No, we’re gonna.” He paused a second, and then he shook his head again, cracking a grin. “Actually, nah. We can’t go down in history if we never die.”

The elevator hit ground floor, and they headed out to the bike rack up front, where Charlie’s bike and good old trusty Richard were chained.

“Alright so here’s the plan,” Charlie started as they both began to unlock their bicycles, “we go make our totally important appearance, mooch some free food, dance until the music gets boring or our feet hurt, find something crazy fun to d that would probably otherwise get us expelled, and then bounce when it gets boring.”

Lin dusted a leaf off of Richard’s seat and grinned at Charlie. “Hell yeah. That’s a puh-puh-puh-puh-planeo, puh-puh-puh-puh-plaaaan.” (Yes, it was necessary that he sing that last words to the tune of “Poker Face”. Yes, it was.)

“Oh also, I brought snacks,” Charlie said, unzipping her handbag to reveal — GASP — candy, hell fucking yeah!

“Candy!” Lin cheered, reaching into the pockets of his suit to pull out a few of the many packs of Fruit Snacks shoved into them. “Hell yeah!”

“Sound good?” Charlie asked.

“Hell yeah!” he cheered once more, giving an excited pelvic thrust on the yeah.

Charlie somehow got onto that bike she had, and then she backed up and looked at Lin.

He knew that expression. He knew what was coming.

Before he could even dash onto the seat of Richard, there came the call he knew was coming: “Race ya there!”

……………………​

As the couple entered the bougie ass ballroom, their cries of “I won” and “no me” echoed off of the high ceilings. There was no way that everyone around did not know that they had arrived.

Such was the existence of Howellin, though; when they were around at any point, everyone knew it.

“Holy shit, they went like all out,” Charlie said, nudging Lin.

He followed her gaze up to the — “Whole ass chandeliers,” he agreed. “Whole ass chandeliers.”

“Do you think we could get up there and like Tarzan swing off of one of those bad boys?” she asked.

Lin cackled happily at the thought. “Oh hell yeah,” he said dismissively, nodding confidently. “Piece of fuckin’ cake — you just get on my shoulders, and I —“

POP!

The sound of flashes popping and the glare of light right in Lin’s eye made him recoil, his face screwing up before he slitted open his eyes. “The hell?” He followed Charlie’s suit of shielding his face from the flash, and then he realized.

Oh right. They were famous, and those were paparazzi.

He giggled to himself. He liked getting photographed.

“What do ya think?” Charlie asked. She wore a devilish smirk. “They say no publicity is bad publicity.”

Grinning back at her, Lin nodded. “They’re right, luhmao.” Giving her hand a squeeze, he leaned his head back and yelled, “Let’s go fuckin’ wild!”

Letting go of Charlie’s hand and sweeping his arms beneath her legs and behind her back to pick her up bridal style and muttering, "Up you go," the widely grinning boy looked a photographer dead in the eyes. Over a chorus of popping flashes, Lin cried, “Yo, lameasses — see if you can keep up!”

He turned on his heel and took off as quick as he could, grinning widely and cackling the whole way down the gigantic room.

mood
zoooom

location
the ball

outfit
kachow ; )

playing...
we'll be okay

by lindsay kay​

mentions
n/a

interactions
charlie

tags
geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

Surprising Luciana was an almost impossible task to do; the girl who lived under the ideal of facts and planned events rather than the unexpected circumstances; was slightly perplexed and almost astonished by Damien’s demeanor. Maybe it was her not having any expectations of her date that she wasn’t expecting he would go out of the way and do all the formalities that accompanied going to the ball.

But even if from a point of view of an outsider, his acts of courtesy seemed heart fluttering if you really read through the lines. The reality was completely different and Luciana knew it. After all, their relationship was basically a quid pro quo, not that she was against the idea. As essential, she was the one that started everything when she chose him as the person of the month she was interested in.

Maybe she should have given him the benefit of the doubt and believed that perhaps Damien had manners. But in the end, who was she kidding; it was Damien Slater. We were talking about the guy who thinks with the member between his legs than his own brain; but since he was actually putting an effort at least to pretend, he wasn’t in a living hell, because it was pretty obvious the guy would rather be anywhere else instead of the ball. Luciana was going to let slide her annoyance at some of his actions that night. She was feeling quite benevolent that evening. And listen, she was already putting a lot of effort into not jumping at him over that terribly tied tie, so he should be thankful for that.

“Hey, I’ll meet you in there,” Damien said to Luciana, which she only agreed indifferently as she saw him go towards what she believed was one of his friends not that she was really interested to know what they had to say probably a dumb conversation about something along those lines. But Luciana was losing her patience. There was no way that she would go inside alone and just be like all “I’m waiting for my date.” Damien was really on thin ice for that, but she was a woman of her word and maybe for that night she would swallow her pride and follow along with Damien’s little game.

Thankfully, whatever conversation they had didn’t last long, and he was back again and this time with his tie properly tied. If Kian was the one behind the sudden change, then she was thankful for it because the girl was about to lose it. “Hey, you know, when you get bored with all this dumb fucking glitz and glam shit, we could... you know, maybe sneak out, do something a little more fun, just the two of us...” Damien said and a flirtatious smile showed on her face

“Going straight to the point, I like that so I’ll let you know when I get bored.”

Don’t get her wrong Luciana enjoyed this kind of party, but there were differences between the events she usually attend with her family and having to spend a night with her classmates that she really didn’t pay any attention to and all their dreamy fantasies that seemed taken out from a fairytale, it was a kind of pathetic if you asked her.

“Let’s head inside already. Maybe you are lucky and we will not be there for a long time but we will see.”

Location: winter ball | Mood: good vibes tonight
Outift: Here | Interactions: Damien ( Winona )

Luciana Navarro Berrocal

Code by Stardust Galaxy​

 

[Winona]

Ava Sanders

God, this was fucking embarrassing.

Ava didn't really know what it was, but there was just... something about being at this fucking place that really got under her skin. Something about being surrounded by bitches in dresses that were either so big that they were constantly bumping into people, or dresses that could better be described as shimmery underwear that just... really, really... didn't piss her off, but brought some kind of other annoyance about Ava.

Maybe it was the fact that Ava, a literature student who prided herself on having a sharp tongue that was always edged with a response, couldn't fucking come up with the word to describe her feelings.

But also fuck feelings. All they ever got you in was trouble.

She found her gaze unable to settle on any one person or area while she stood by Saint, instead searching out a specific brunette that she was hoping wouldn't have a fucking dumbass attached to her arm.

It was probably good that she had Saint as company, because he managed to keep her distracted.

“I like the outfit,” Saint said, “but I can’t say that I expected you to get so dressed up…”

Yeah, neither had she.

“Is there someone you’re looking to impress tonight…? Some special girl…?”

Ava let out a snort of laughter. "Fuck no, dating in high school's for... I dunno, dumbasses, I guess," she mumbled, although there was a twinge in her heart that was screaming hypocrite, because sure, Ava had never dated, but that... that didn't mean she didn't want to.

She considered turning the question back on him, but crush talk wasn't something Ava wanted to continue.

"They always go full out for these events…" Saint said. "It's almost like they expect something more to come of this than bathroom babies and a chlamydia outbreak… They've probably spent enough money on this to feed a third-world country…for months. It shows their priorities…they'll do a charity car wash to get their teenaged sex icons in skimpy outfits, but they'll blow all of their money on fru-fru events like this…hm."

See, now this was the kind of conversation that Ava much preferred. Bitching about shit and how they'd spend the money if the people who ran this fucking school had a single ounce of fucking... fucking charity or cared about anything but spitting out high level celebs that they could attach their name to.

"That'd require caring about someone other than themselves," Ava grumbled. Now, her gaze that had once held something that she hadn't been able to place held a look of pure disgust as she stared out at the students wandering around. "And you know they won't require any fucking assistance for the babies and shit that happen from tonight. They'll sweep them under the rug. Pretend they don't fucking exist and shit."

Well, they would for the girls. Kick them or some shit from the school -- but the guys would probably get off with nothing more than a slap on the wrist, and that pissed her off more than anything else.

"I feel like half the reason anyone's fucking here is because it'd look bad if you skipped out."

mood
uncomfortable

location
Winter Ball

outfit
as if she was going to wear a dress

playing...
Bad Reputation

by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts​

mentions
JJ

interactions
Saint

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Damien Slater

In a perfect world, the hot chick would've been all "oh Damien, this dance is already sooo boring, please make it actually fun by taking me somewhere and--"

Well, you know the rest of the story.

Unfortunately in the real world, the hot chick was never as fucking willing to do what Damien wanted as they were in his dreams. Not that he really fucking cared all that much or whatever. Sure, whatever, you got him -- there was a little part of him that could actually stand conversation with Luci that extended past wanna fuck?

Yeah, yeah, fucking choke on your own spit. He didn't care what you fuckers had to say, because Damien enjoyed what he enjoyed, and he wasn't going to fucking apologize for shit.

And he understood that he was far from any kind of picture perfect date. He wasn't like the rest of the fuckers here -- all cleaned up and proper, riding in here with perfect hair and perfect suits and a fistful of daddy's money. Or well... he was, but he had all of that emotional baggage or some shit. The temper that could go off at any moment, the general annoyance with others, and just... well... him.

As much as Damien was definitely a fucking delight to be around, he understood that it took a special kind of someone to stick it out with him.

Kian. Felix. They were the only ones that had really stuck with it. Stuck with him.

And now Luci.

(And suck it, Kian, because that didn't mean shit and it said nothing about Damien's issues.)

Plus Luci entertained his idea of heading off somewhere when she got bored, and that earned a smile from Slater -- one that remained as he took her arm in his like he saw them do in the movies and shit, and he started with her towards the ballroom. He kept that goofy, slightly awkward smile plastered on his face as the paparazzi took pictures, and it even remained as they headed inside, and he finally shrugged his arm away from her.

There was only so much physical contact Damien could stand before it felt like snakes crawling under his skin.

His hands slipped into his pockets and he leaned towards Luci. There was still the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

"So... what the fuck do we do at these things?" He asked, as if he'd never been to a dance -- he'd been to high school dances before, but typically not ones that were this fucking classy.

"Do we just dance?"

Sounded fucking boring to him.

mood
hatethishatethishatethis

location
Winter Ball

outfit
bruh this dude don't have good pictures in suits

playing...
Sad Songs

by Kyd the Band​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Luci

tags
Stardust Galaxy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[mogy]

Oates Oates
"Words are words, actions are actions."

@Oates has set their status to:
Just a Puzzle Piece

@Oates has set their outfit to:
Matching Suit

@Oates has set their location to:
The Dance

@Oates has mentioned:
Callum, Kian

@Mogy has mentioned:
hery ​

As he jumped around his apartment, looking for his shoes, which were the only thing missing from the dark red ensemble he had on, it was quite obvious just how much excitement resided inside of Oates on this very special night. To some, it was just another somber night to sit in front of the TV and fall asleep, to others something important might’ve been happening, but, at the end of the day, to Oates, this night was the most special night out of every night that ever was.


Oh, how he loved school dances, and this one, well, was no different except the fact that Oates now understood. Understood how different he was from the boy waiting for him in the parking lot. Where he spoke love, Callum never did, and Oates understood that him agreeing to go to the dance, where people were loud and silence at a shortage, had been nothing but his own way of speaking love.


The curly-haired boy found his shoes in the cupboard next to the front door, and when he put them on, he rushed out fast. Nothing could keep him away from Callum and the dance, not even a lack of shoes, not even the immense cold that hugged his face as he left the apartment complex. His nose had tended to become red at the sight of cold, so tonight wasn’t an exception, and by the time he walked over to Callum’s car, the redness spread to his cheeks, but that didn’t keep him from smiling as wide as he could at the sight of his boyfriend looking the most elegant he ever did.


Opening the door, and ducking down to see his boyfriend more clearly, he didn’t even notice the papers on the seat, as the smile on Callum’s face charmed him. A rare sight was something to admire, and the black-haired boy’s smile might have been the rarest one. Happiness was a good look for both of them, and by the time he did notice the papers on the seat, Callum was already tossing them in the back of the car to make room for Oates. If this had been another night, Oates would’ve asked what the papers were, but at the moment, they were the last thing he cared about.


The entire night, this moment, everything seemed to be fitting into the right place. The puzzle pieces which seemed to sort themselves. Callum was driving them to the dance, they were going to the dance in the first place, their suits were matching, and the two weren’t fighting, they weren’t even close to doing so. How could Oates break that perfection with curiosity, and why would he want to?


Sitting into the passenger seat, now empty, and giving his boyfriend a quick kiss, one pair of cold lips to another, he spoke. “Why, thank you.” Blushing ensued, but none could see it, as redness from the cold remained. “You don’t look half as bad yourself, you dapper young man!” He chuckled halfway through the sentence, understanding how corny he must have sounded, but corny was his favorite feeling, and tonight, out of all nights, it felt appropriate.


The car started, and they were on their way, just like that. No road bumps, actual ones nor whatever it was that blocked their path before. And on this ride, Oates couldn’t help but look at the boy sitting next to him, and wonder how he was so lucky to find him in the first place. Inside this car, silence was but a soothing sensation for the two because nothing could step in between them and stop their journey. And before Oates knew it, another puzzle piece fell in its place, Callum being the one breaking the silence, asking him if he’d been excited, as if that hadn’t been obvious from the get-go.


Though followed by a pessimistic view, or following one that was characterized as such, Oates got good at focusing on the good part of whatever it was that Callum said. That’s why he didn’t comment on the remark that the boy made about money, and instead, decided to give a response to the question. “I’m very excited, Cal! I think we’re going to have a really good time together.”


The short conversation seemed to be an intermission between the play called silence, and the last act continued all the way until the two got to the school, Callum finding a spot to park the car quite close to the entrance. Another puzzle piece.


They both exited the vehicle, and without a prompt from Oates, his boyfriend put his hand on the slightly shorter boy’s waist, pulling the two closer. The cameraman that basically stalked the entrance took one or two pictures with the two boys photobombing, as they were merely dancers in this school, and everybody knew the dancers were the least popular group of people. At least to reporters and the outside world. But even those two pictures were enough for Oates, and he knew he would be scouring the web for the photobomb tomorrow morning. Somebody needed to put that on Callum’s fridge, after all.


As Oates laid his eyes on what the inside looked like, he was left wordless, for once in his life. It looked magical, and he was so sure that the two of them looked perfect inside that scene. This was like a Disney movie coming to life, and he was the protagonist of the movie. This, in itself, was three puzzle pieces at least. The puzzle was almost complete.


People inside the large room were already dancing and talking, having fun. There were times Oates enjoyed these things to a full extent, but now he just worried about the boy whose hand stopped being on his waist as they entered the large room. That was how Oates usually learned Callum was shutting down, but at the sight of him, the black-haired boy seemed to be holding his ground even amidst people. A caring smile was all that Oates could do now, so he did, but it didn’t appear that a smile took over Callum’s attention, and the band seemed to be more appealing.


If only Kian wasn’t the one in the band. And if only Callum didn’t recognize him. Was the puzzle about to break into a million little pieces before it was solved?


Oates already felt worse than he ever did about the entire thing happening with Kian, and he did the most he could to apologize, but hey, it just didn’t seem to be in the cards. Now, was the mere sight of the boy destroy the perfect night as karma stroked again?


“Oh, yeah, I haven’t really had the chance, but, I’m here with you now, and I think that’s more than enough for me.” He placed an assuring kiss on the boy’s lips. “Care for a dance?”


Before there was an answer, Oates took Callum’s hand into his own, and walked backwards onto the dance floor where people were already dancing, now to a slow song. He made sure not to bump into anyone, but it wasn’t like the two had to be center of attention, nor did they want that. They were fine closer to the sidelines.


Oates placed his hands on Callum’s shoulders, waiting for the boy to put his hands on his waist and back. Now even closer than before, the two last puzzle pieces sat in their place, and the picture was finished.


The picture went as follows; a spectrum of white with silver decorations glimmering and silhouettes of black and pastel swaying as though they were a forest of thin waving in the wind. Dimmed lights, but just enough for Oates to be able to see Callum's face clearly. Nevertheless, it was not necessary. The particular mixture of cologne and deodorant, along with the warmth of the hand on his back were uniquely Callum, and, fittingly, Oates's definition of love. Chest against chest, and like others—dancing along to the slow song in the background, savoring the feeling of intimate closeness until the next song came on.


He looked at the taller boy's emerald eyes, a smile not leaving his lips. For a moment, there was a sparkle, obviously just light bouncing off of something, but it made being there with Callum in their own world feel even more magical, and, essentially, it prompted Oates to say something he probably should've thought about before actually speaking. "You know... I think our wedding will be like this." He glanced around at all the other couples—all in their own worlds—before shifting his view back to Callum and then, ultimately, resting his head onto his shoulder.


No matter if it was slow dancing, ballroom swing, contemporary ballet, or hip hop, it was when two people became one, for as long as that one simple song lasted, and Oates liked being one with Callum.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: danthe

OUTFIT: matchy king!!!!!

LOCATION: ballroom

basics

MENTIONS:
Kian
INT:
mogy (Oates)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

“Oh, yeah, I haven’t really had the chance, but, I’m here with you now, and I think that’s more than enough for me.”

Oates had a particular way of framing his words that kept Callum more entranced with his puerile manner of speech than the emotion behind it. He kept his eyes trained on Kian for a second longer, then returned his attention back to Oates. The topic left his mind, letting the emptiness and simplicity provide him with a dull sense of contentment.

"You're right."

The pair shared a peck on the lips, and Callum could feel the sense in his head dissipating, a rose-hued shroud replacing his thoughts. With a foolish grin on his face, he followed the other boy to the dance floor, finding his perpetually weary eyes drifting down to his boyfriend's waist. His eyes shot back up once they'd reached their destination on the outskirts of the crowd, staring right into those of Oates.

On instinct, the two boys fell into one another, interlocking in a slow dance. Callum's figure stooped over a little as he leaned into Oates, the brief moment wordless and dripping with unspoken passion. The tension in his bony body eased, melting into the smooth form most often called upon during dance practice. Back and forth they swayed, waist to waist, as much puppets to the rhythm of the music as they were in tune with each other.

Callum's breathing slowed the longer his piercing blue eyes traveled across the other boy's face, star-struck by the beauty of the very guy he swore it all to. Not to be dramatic, but he was everything. In this moment and in every other, all of it was meant to be. Every up, down, left, and right had all been worth it to bring them to this moment.

He just... wished Oates could see that. That Callum needed him like nothing and no one else. Without needing to pluck it out of him.

Time's direct flow tangled itself into a nebulous jumble while they slow danced, stretching across infinity all in the span of each and every second. The dancers all around, the ballroom's extravagant decorations, and the fuzzy, distant sound of the music were backdrops to this moment pasted onto eternity. All while it played out, Callum's heart longed for it to never reach its destination, for time to stop and freeze this frame into his own personal Elysium.

Warmth flooded throughout the pallid boy's slowly swaying body, melding into his rosy-cheeked companion while he listened to the soft pitter-patter of his heartbeat. That moment stretched across a few more moments, until Callum had the curiosity to inquire of his own heartbeat thumping against Oates'. It was then that he came to realize their hearts were beating in unison.

It all lasted just a little longer (inevitably cut short behind Callum's preferences) until Oates opened his mouth, moving them onto the next frame in time. "You know... I think our wedding will be like this." His head fell onto his shoulder, resting, absorbing his troubles.

"I'd like that," he whispered without thinking, leaning his head a little more into Oates'. His hand inched up the other boy's back to reside on the back of his head, lightly playing with his silky curls. Silence followed, and his eyes seemed to lose focus while he retreated into his head, replaying the moment over again. A latent realization of their brief conversation struck the face of his thoughts and his brain activity froze while he caught up with just what had been said.

His eyes blurred back into focus, catching a glimpse of the face of the gentle boy leaning against him. He could do nothing to suppress a smile of fondness, mildly curious what part of the scene was playing back in his mind. He looked so peaceful like that, as though Callum had finally done something right. He must have been satisfied with the response he'd given.

And just then, it hit him. He knew what he was supposed to say. It had been this easy all along; he couldn't quite place it, but he sensed something, and that had to be the something Oates was begging and begging for him to give. It felt somewhat like the end of an instruction manual, the vibrant epiphany that dawns at the solution of a problem. It was going to solve everything. It was everything.

"Oates..." he began, his voice rising above the waning sound of the song being performed. There was that brief moment between songs in which the whole room fell silent, and if one had screamed at the top of their lungs, everyone in the entire hall would have heard them clearer than a church bell. Oates nestled on his shoulder in affectionate bliss, Callum's heart began to race as the words perched themselves on the edge of his tongue.

But nothing came.

The next song began, and the energy of the room rose as bodies began to shift and move.

"I'm having a really good time," he finally stated rather anticlimactically, pulling away as the tempo of his movement jumped up, "Thank you. For everything." His bones jangled and creaked as he moved from slow dance mode to hip hop mode, moving with agility and fluidity. "I like this song," he added with newfound vigor, showing off a little as he rolled his hips.

"When you're in my arms, I turn into such an idiot," he confessed with a laugh, some of the color and life returning to his infamously sickly face, "But I like it. It's stupid with anybody else. That's why I need you as my dance partner." A few playful seconds of lively dance passed while he admired his boyfriend's moves and energy.

"That's why I need you."

code by valen t.