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

[Kitsune2202]

"Focus on me, I'm about to blow them all away"
Stella Bailey

@Steller.Bae has set their status to:
Here we go!

@Steller.Bae has set their outfit to:
Cute active wear ftw

@Steller.Bae has set their location to:
School (her locker)

@Steller.Bae has mentioned:
Zeph, Charlie, Dorian, Landon, Maddie

@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Lin ( ohdittoh )

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The moment Lin started cheering it dawned on Stella that maybe this was more of a bad idea then she originally thought. That just maybe Charlie's warning held more merit then originally thought. But hey what was wrong with people being excited or happy? Sure she knew he was right that of course she'd lose, but hey she could put on a game face and act like this wasn't going to be completely one sided. Tonight seemed to be full of opportunities to put her acting skills to the test.

I mean for starters Stella usually only did child-like things like this with...Zeph? Yah pretty much. Dorian, Maddie, and Landon were all older then her and weren't interested in this kind of stuff. At home her parents expected her and her brother to be mini professional adults since the age of like 10, so they never really were allowed to do fun or crazy things. They weren't allowed to "just be kids".

Sleep-overs? Nope that's time to be spent studying, or running lines. Parties? Unless it's for an event that's time to be searching for the next audition. Water gun or balloon fights? Nope you'll catch a cold and be out of commission when something comes up. Trick-or-treating? Nope, but you can create a Halloween themes song medley to use for auditions. Climbing tree's? Nope, if you fall and break your ankle you'll be grounded literally and figuratively. Even tea parties were basically turned into mock business propositions. If it was fun without a purpose that was not on the Bailey schedule. There was something to be said about the fact she'd done more childlike things since entering high school then she ever had as an actual child.

She never saw this as her missing out on anything because she was always told if you don't wanna be like everyone else then you can't do like everyone else. You have to do what people won't to get what they'll never have. That lesson was engraved in her for as long as she could remember, and when any slight feeling of jealousy or envy popped into her heart she remembered that mantra and envisioned her future. Envisioned where she would be, verses where not people end up and that gave her the strength to move forward without any bitterness. Before she had her brother to help out with that feeling, but since coming here it's just been up to her. Being surrounded by so many people also on track to being somebody if they weren't already also help and hurt.

On the one hand it made her feel like maybe she could loosen up a bit since they all clearly did and were still doing just fine, but then on the other hand these people were still her competition and the last thing she wanted was to be on par with her rivals. She wanted more, she needed to be better. Climb higher. She wanted to be the absolute best, and she couldn't be that if she settled for their antics...well all the time. Everyone needs a break every now and then right?

Not to mention his excitement just like when she's with Zeph kinda rubbed off on her. It sparks a side of her she would never admit that she's neglected and shoved away for a long time. Stella has never really seen herself as a child. That part of her life died before it could ever even be explored. Which is weird to think about since she was still technically a child. She was the youngest of the people she talked to being still only 15 until March which was still like four months away. If anything she should be the most childish one around, instead of being one of the most mature.

She laughed watching him letting a competitive grin dawn her lips, "Good cause I was going to say the same thing. No free passes cause you're his...Bromeo" Yah really smooth Stella. Silly clap-backs was not a forte. Hey she was working on it. She usually didn't pay enough mind to things to need to make some sort of com-back playfully or otherwise due to being always so work focused.

She listened to him respond to her question and as quickly as his frown appeared it went away again. So they hadn't met up yet? Well this was a big school and while she would suggest just texting or calling him, it seemed Lin was much more interested in this little race of theirs, so that could wait till it was over.

Betting? Hell no. She was racing on skates against a bike! Even if they were athletically similar that's still be a huge disadvantage. Stella wasn't dumb, but then all he did was whip out a quarter and a sock and Stella was reminded once again who she was dealing with. This was just fun for Lin it's not like he was out to hustle her. It was a bit of a curse to always immediately think of the most pessimistic response from someone. Something both experiences and her mom blessed her with, that she now would really like to unlearn as much as possible. She wanted to be amazing and have an amazing life, and you can't do that if you're bitter or paranoid thinking everyone is always out to get you.

"Uh ok then!" She took the quarter in hand before going into her own locker cause the only thing in her pockets was lip gloss. "I've gotttttt." She hummed tapping her cheek and shifting things around. "A clown nose from improve class annnnd oh!" She pulled out a two dollar bill that she'd forgotten was in there. "This two dollar bill." She chimed holding it out to him. She didn't really mind losing either of those things since the nose didn't matter and she didn't even remember she had the bill. Seemed fitting for such a silly bet.

Lin energy level once you got past how scary high it was...was kinda entertaining. She could see why Charlie and Zeph liked him so much. This was definitely not something she could keep up with on a daily basis...reminded her too much of what it might be like to chase a toddler around all day. But as tiring as babies can be they are still adorable and enjoyable right? And that's kinda where she was settling in on her opinion of Lin. He was fun, excitable, amusing. So best served in small doses. The best part of babysitting is returning the kids after all. This was just re-confirmed as Lin literally bolted outside to grab his bike then ride it back inside in like less then a minuet! That was insane, and the guy still wasn't even nearly out of breath. All he's done since he first turned the corner and saw her is dance, and sing, and run, and jump and move and he STILL has had zero depletion in energy or stamina. What kinda caffeine did this guy live on cause she needed it.

"All ready? Oh wait we haven't decided the course and finish line!" She chimed. She thought a moment about the path with the least amount of people because she was not trying to crash into people doing this. She knew people would be in the gym and at the pool for sure. "How about whichever way you want, but the finish line is the end of the runway that's across the school the Plastics dept. uses for practice and shows? Sound fair?" She asked. She figured there wasn't much of a reason for people to be all the way over there. Also having no set course meant she actually had a fighting chance because then it's not just speed, it's also knowledge of the school layout and the best fit. So a bit of strategy, which was something Stella could actually compete with. "Ready to get swerved and say bye bye to your quarter Linny!? On the count of three!"

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

. LINDSAY MORGAN KAY .

MOOD: zooom zooom ZOOOOOOOOM lmao

OUTFIT: lookin fly as always

LOCATION: the halls of the school

MENTIONS: n/a

INTERACTIONS: stella

TAGS: Kitsune2202

LIN GRABBED AHOLD of his bike’s handlebars, pulled to lift the front end bike up, and let go to bounce the front tire against the ground as he waited for Stella to grab whatever she was digging out of her locker. He repeated his bouncing several times, nodding his head to some song in his head as he pursed and unpursed his lips to occupy himself. He began to hum an offkey, very fast version of “My Heart Will Go On”.

“I’ve gotttttt,” Stella began, and then she trailed off.

Lin raised his eyebrows curiously. “You’ve got what, what, what?” he asked, stopping his head nodding so that he could strain his neck in an attempt to looking her locker that he knew wouldn’t look.

She pulled out a red felt nose. “A clown nose from improv class annnnd oh!” She pulled out a green slip of paper. “This two dollar bill.”

A grin popped onto Lin’s face upon seeing the money and the clown nose, and he held his hands out for the eagerly. “Hell yeah!” he cackled, taking the items from her. “Now you’re speaking my language!” He leaned far to his left so that he could reach the floor without having to get off of his bike, and he sat what would surely be his spoils of victory on the ground before looking at Stella once more.

He sat his bike up straight again, waddling a couple steps forward to readjust his position. He sat his left foot on the pedal, and he squared his shoulders. “You gonna have one less one and two less bucks, and I’m gonna give zero fucks, luhmao,” Lin said, laughing at his own rhyme. “I waaaarned you. No backing out now, luhmao.”

He tapped his non-pedal-positiioned foot on the ground, humming some more of “My Heart Will Go On: Crack Kid Edition” as Stella shut her locker.

“All ready?” she asked.

“Been ready, born ready, being ready, is ready, are ready, all ready, all steady,” Lin said, and he finished it off with an excited “luhmao”.

Suuuuuuckerrrrrrr, luhmao— Stella was a suckerrrr.

“Oh wait, we haven’t decided the cause and the finish line!” she said suddenly.

Whoopsies.

“Oh, yeah— prolly important, luhmao. Can’t believe you forgot,” Lin laughed. He gave a shrug, and then flopped his wrist dismissively. “Ehhhh, I’mma win, anyway. I’ll let you pick, luhmao.” He gave her a sure nod, and then grinned widely, wiggling his brows and pointing a finger at her tauntingly. “You can choose how you looooooose,” he teased, cackling.

"How about whichever way you want, but the finish line is the end of the runway that's across the school the Plastics department uses for practice and shows?” Stella suggested. “Sound fair?"

“Sure.” Psht, piece of cake. Lin knew that he could win regardless, but free reign could give him a bit more adventure, luhmao. Ya know, break a few windows, run over some randos, steal some Germ-X, and still come out on top, luhmao. “I’m game.”

"Ready to get swerved and say bye bye to your quarter Linny!?” she asked.

“Psht, in your fucking dreams, Stellagmite,” Lin taunted with a wide grin.

He set his eyes forward as she said, “On the count of three!”

“Aight, aight, aiiiight,” Lin said, rolling his shoulders and sharply turning his head to the left and the right to pop it. He dramatically lifted his hands from the handlebars to pop his knuckles one by one, snatching each finger with the opposite hand and twisting hard to the right and down until each knuckle popped. He rolled his neck, then rolled his shoulders again, and then he placed his thumbs beneath the handlebars and placed his fingers around the bars slowly— pinkies, then rings, then middles, then forefingers. He tightened his grip, grinning wider, and then he looked over at Stella. “Ready?” he asked, and then he looked ahead, lowering himself closer to the handlebars.

Then, through a toothy grin, Lin began to give the count off— in German. “Eins…,” he began, and then he decided to switch to Spanish as he pulled his hands outward to sit near the ends of his handles. “Dos…”

Lin set his back straight, and he called, “Three!”—

And he shot off like a bullet, pedaling as fast as he could go down the left side of the hallway, cackling loudly as he zoomed.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West
"I heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in the world."

@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
seriously

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Nickie

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

She kept repeating it. She kept repeating it. She just... she kept answering Ash's questions in the exact same way, with the exact same string of words, with the exact same purpose, and Ash still didn't fucking get it. She still didn't fucking believe it. She still felt on edge. She still felt like this was some kind of trap -- Nickie trying to get Ash to lower her guard, so she could get... get... something... something... to make her look bad, yeah?

It was psychotic. It was out there. It didn't make sense, Ash didn't really have anything to back that as evidence (other than what she'd done to Ash's friends), but she still didn't believer her, she didn't trust her.

I want to help, Nickie kept repeating.

She wanted to help.

She said she wanted to help, anyway, but she probably didn't really. No one... no one wanted to spend their night helping someone else, especially not helping someone like Ash. It was just like... it was just a fact of the world, like that grass was green or that the sky looked blue. A simple fact that had been so beaten into her that Ash couldn't just accept Nickie's words at face value.

No, there had to be something else. A motive behind wanting to help.

There was always a motive, always a motive.

Her head hurt trying to unravel the meaning behind Nickie's words through the fog that clouded her brain. Through the static that was making it hard to even comprehend a single thing coming out of her mouth, that was making it hard to think about anything other than the deep, innate desire to go, go, go and put as much distance between herself and Callum, and Nickie, and everyone else in the area as she could.

“I literally barely know you, and…now that I think about it, you don’t like me, do you? But that doesn’t have anything to do with it. Like, that’s not what…I’m…like…”

That managed to catch her attention, to slice through the layers of fog and misunderstanding and confusion.

"No, no, no," Ash started without thinking, shaking her head, eyes squeezing shut. "I don't... I don't, I mean, I don't... I don't hate you, I just..."

Yeah, no, she'd be lying if she said she didn't dislike Nickie. Because like yeah, Ash didn't really like her all that much anymore, but she didn't... she couldn't... she couldn't fucking say that, could she? Because that would be fucking mean, and Ash didn't want to be mean, she didn't want to be, she didn't want to be a bad person, even if she was without trying. Even if trying to do the right thing just ended with her hurting people.

She squeezed her lips together, her head falling for a moment, arms closing tighter around her stomach.

She was going to be fucking sick.

Ash should've taken Nickie up on that offer of a bucket, and then taken off.

Nickie kept talking.

“I was sitting alone trying not to cry a few minutes ago,” Nickie said quickly. “Because I feel like I deserve everything that’s coming at me and don’t at the same time.”

Her words were like nails scraping against a chalkboard to her. Grating against her nerves, piercing her head like tiny needles, and leaving her with a bigger headache then she'd started off with, because Ash wanted to say no, no, no, she wanted to tell Nickie taht she was wrong, wrong, wrong, but she didn't have it in her to talk, she didn't have it in her to try and comfort this other girl, and that just... that just...

God that just made her feel like a shitty person.

Like a bitch.

She clearly was a bitch, because she didn't want to be here, talking to someone. All she wanted was to be left alone to drink herself to sleep, but instead she was stuck frozen in this hallway, and people were still walking by, and people were looking at her, and she didn't want to be the focus on any attention, even passing attention, and she didn't... she didn't... she didn't... she just fucking didn't.

Ash didn't want to talk to Nickie. She didn't want to be cordial. She didn't want to be at the lock-in. She didn't want any of this.

She wanted to scream.

“I dunno, it’s weird. I don’t want to…whine about that. But I was sitting over there, trying not to cry and trying not to puke, and it was just…I was miserable.” She gave a soft, sad laugh. “Am miserable. Fuck, I dunno. I haven’t felt good all night, and I noticed you, and I just..”

She didn't have to approach. She could've looked away.

Everyone else did -- that was the easy way out. The thing that everyone should simply do, just... look away.

“I was alone for a bit,” she tried again. “And…that was bad. And…and it was like…it was like everything was fucking closing in, and I couldn’t breathe, and I felt sick, and I wanted to get away, but I also just wanted someone there, too. And then someone came over to talk to me and that helped some, even if I didn’t— don’t trust…it. Him. But it still helped. To be distracted. To get…some…affirmation. To have someone there…”

Ash's thoughts, although muddled, seemed to have some moment of clarity as Nickie spoke, and she hated herself for that. She hated that Nickie could voice the feeling so well when Ash couldn't even begin to comprehend it, and she hated that Nickie was trying to draw parallels, and she hated that Nickie was insisting that she had wanted someone there, as if she was... she was... no, that didn't even--

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Her next words fell on deaf ears.

“They’re the good kind— on-brand Kleenex. They say that they’re, uh…rose-scented? But I can never smell them. You can keep the pack, but take it.”

Numbly, she lifted her head, her eyes, blurry with tears, tried to focus on the Kleenex in Nickie's hand. For a long moment, Ash just stared at the offered Kleenex. Her heart was throwing itself against her ribcage. Her lungs had shriveled up. Her stomach was aching.

"I don't..." her words were cold, spoken through clenched teeth this time. "I don't want your Kleenex. I don't, I don't, I don't want anyone -- least of all you." She snapped. Ash just wanted to be fucking alone, but nothing was working to shake Nickie. Nothing was working, and she didn't know what to do, but she wanted the girl to just fuck off and just leave her alone, leave her alone.

Let her rot alone.

Seriously.

"I'm not... I'm sorry you're having a shitty night, but I'm not... I'm not going to... sit with you and cry or whatever it is you think we're going to do, okay? I don't want you to comfort me so you feel better about, what, all the shitty things you've done?" Her eyes were still stuck to the Kleenex, but now her gaze fell to the ground. "I don't want to listen to you complain about your night and try to convince you that you're like, what? A good person? Because you're not. You're selfish and you like dragging people down, and I'm just... I don't want to hangout with you. So just..." she hesitated, shaking her head one last time, "just fuck off and leave me alone. Seriously."

She stepped back from Nickie again and finally, arms still wrapped around her stomach and gaze on the ground in front of her, turned and started to walk away.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

For every smart-assed comment he made, Lydia always had a comeback, it was one of the things he liked about her. Platonically of course. He didn't do romance. That was the stupid thing about teenagers nowadays. You like someone or get along, all of a sudden you were a simp or in love or going to get in a relationship. Maybe for some kids like Evie and Nate that was the case, but not for him. The dumb comments that often followed him and Adriane just because they got along and hooked up regularly were just some examples of their idiocy.

"We get paid for walking in straight lines so I'm not complaining." He retorted, smirking as he slid the pin back into his pocket. Frankly, he was more than happy to deal with the stereotype of models being dumb because of how mindless their work seemed. It put money in his pocket so he wasn't complaining and he liked the work enough. Well...like was probably too strong a word. He was good at it and he got paid. That was all that mattered.

“You’re gonna have to teach me how you do that some time.”

Lockpicking? Yeah he could teach her, it'd be easy enough to do. Learning it had been easy enough and Lydia was smart...but he wasn't going to give it to her that easy.

Lydia paused as she flipped through some files on the desk and glanced over, face twisted in confusion as she digested his comments about the new kid.

“Why would he—“ she shook her head and a small laugh escaped her lips. “You’re such a dick.”

Yeah he was a dick for telling the kid that it was freshman tradition to climb in through the window but could you really blame him? It was really the kid's fault for being dumb enough to believe him in the first place when the front door was unlocked and right there. The little smirk and laugh Lydia had made, told him they shared a similar opinion on the matter.

"I got a reputation to keep you know," He remarked sarcastically with a shrug, that smug look still plastered on his face as he joined her by the desk. "It takes hard work to stay an asshole with the stiff competition at this school. As for teaching you my tricks..." Dalton paused for effect, "my lessons don't come cheap. You sure you can afford them Fox?"

She definitely could, her family was rich after all, but he liked making comments like this. It was his thing, and as he had told her, he did have a reputation to keep. And the school really did have a fairly impressive number of assholes, enough that you could probably form a department comprised solely of them and it'd be as big as the other departments, maybe even bigger. In fact ninety percent of such a department would probably be comprised of plastics plus a few toss ins from the other departments. He was right at home he supposed, exactly where he belonged.

When she brought up what happened when he lost their last bet, he shook his head. Yeah that incident? Not his finest moment, streaking at homecoming naked was more up the ally of those kids who had way too much crack and no brain. To have an incident that could lump him with them, and a constant reminder of it hanging around in the form a video?

Yeah no. He wasn't a fan.

Still, he'd rather that than have someone say he backed down from fulfilling his end of the deal when he lost a bet. The competitor in him would never allow it. To be known as not only someone who lost a bet but basically chickened out after? No fucking way.

This time though? The script was flipped. He was the one in power and he was definitely going to get her back for that one now that he'd won. Once he came up with that favour.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

"Jealous?" He teased without missing a beat, a smirk tugging at his lips as she told him to go for anything that was promising. Honestly, he had no idea what something promising would look like in the dean's office but yeah he could do that. It would be interesting to see what they could find. Walking over to one of the shelves, he lifted a box off the top and set it down on the table. Inside it held not files or photos but what looked to be a bunch of items confiscated from students. Huh. As he rummaged through the box, Lydia spoke beside him.

“We can always check out your file. Bet you’ve got a ton of skeletons in your closet...figuratively speaking of course.”

His file. Dalton's fingers tightened on the item he'd picked up as he tossed it aside and continued to rummage around the box, though he was no longer really paying attention to what was in it. How much was in there? His family background? Schooling? The bare basic details or some lengthy essay like report that laid everything bare? The idea that information about his past could be just lying around in a folder somewhere did not sit well with him in the least. Lydia didn't need to know that though. No one did.

"That interested in conducting a personal search into my life story? If you want to know me intimately Fox, you can just say so. No need to play coy." He wasn't flirting. This was just how it was with him and Lydia, and right now he was just trying to distract her. The plan for tonight was to dig into other people's pasts and pull out their skeletons, not have his past get exposed. He did not need to be reminded of his stupidity as a child nor did he need to be reminded of that woman.

Dalton stepped closer and leaned into her space, staring at Lydia for a long moment before reaching behind her to grab an unopened file. He flipped it open and ran his fingers over the pages lazily smirking at her as he pulled away and sauntered over to another part of the room before returning to his spot at the desk. Looked like somebody at this school had managed to live a boring life. No skeletons in that one. He dropped the file onto the desk as he peered back into the box that he had been looking through and his eyes widened for a brief moment. Was that?

"Hey Fox," he smirked as he motioned her over, "come look at this."

Dalton Kirby

mood:
what do we have here?
(IDK)

outfit:
casual

location:
dean's office

mentions:
Avery, Adriane, Nate

interactions:
Lydia

tags:
gh0stwriter

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: ugh bitch

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: school

basics

MENTIONS:
Ash, Gen
INT:
Winona (Jace)
jasmyn (Evie)
ohdittoh (Mike)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

Callum's scowl faded past the climax of his outburst, leaving nothing but directionless frustration in its wake. Ash had already turned and left, thank god, but now he was just standing around next to Jace as at least a half-dozen heads observed the scene. Silence coated the air, and Callum's feet remained fixed onto where they were. The lecture he'd just hurled onto his ex-friend was undoubtedly cathartic, but it had still managed to leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

Leave it to Ash to rob him of any sense of finality in their conflict. Something was missing, but that was hardly new with Callum.

Figuring enough time had elapsed since everything begun to settle down, he turned away from Ash's path and faced Jace, the surprisingly loyal boy who had unwaveringly stood by his side the entire time. There was no way for Callum to verify that, as he'd been far more engrossed in laying it into his sister, but he was fairly certain Jace had at least a thing or two to say. In the least disrespectful way possible, nothing really mattered besides what Callum needed to tell Ash, and any onlookers like Jace were merely props in the background.

Somewhat to the pale boy's surprise, Jace actually spoke before being spoken to. "Thanks," he replied curtly, although whether successfully telling Ash off was an accomplishment or a sin wasn't exactly certain. Callum's first thought was that the boy was a bit of a treacherous wimp for turning on his sister like that, but after what he'd heard about her from him, he wasn't all that surprised. In fact, he felt all the more stupid for letting her into his life at all.

Whether he felt better or not wasn't at the forefront of Callum's mind, but it would have been rude not to answer Jace's question seriously. "No, not really," he admitted defeatedly, which came as more of a nuisance once one realized that this occurrence had been brewing for weeks. Everything that was said needed to be said, but nothing felt all that different. If Callum hadn't felt good about the situation before, how was he to feel any better after now that all was said and done? In the end, Ash slipped from his fingertips like any other.

"Thanks for having my back, though," he added with a weary sigh. Jace had a funny way of looking at him, as though Callum had his full, undivided attention at all times. It felt like a bit too much of a responsibility toddling around with such a submissive character. Callum never knew what he wanted to say or what he wanted to do. Why should anyone place any amount of faith or regard in him at all?

Before even turning to investigate the source of the shrill, sarcastic voice invading his eardrums, Callum rolled his eyes. Of course some nosy loudmouth had to interject into his business. Someone always did. Callum couldn't say anything to anyone without a chorus of loyal pawns charging over to pelt him with insults. "In what way did that look like an attempt at manliness?" the exasperated boy drawled, his sunken eyes lazily drifting over to meet Evelyn's.

"You're not even saying anything meaningful," he griped, his quiet voice failing to rise above the sound of Evie's as she spoke, "She claimed to care, and she doesn't. We've just confirmed that. I don't see why that should be a hard pill for you of all people to swallow." Now, if Callum was still really pissed off, he'd have made some half-assed, crude jab about her shagging the artist with a criminal record of all people, but he actually sort of liked the guy. It was a shame he had to get involved with a girl so... loud. And intruding in every way. Even a frustrated Callum knew how to mellow out so as to not give other people headaches.

Callum nonchalantly watched as Evie grabbed the attention of Mike, a ploy in which he was already growing tired anticipating the point of. He went and faced Mike now, eyeing him with a moderate disbelief that Evelyn actually cared so much to drag him in and go off on insecurities Callum had long since abandoned to fester in the depths of his heart. "Then tell her, I guess," he remarked coolly, idly picking at his fingernail, "You're already wasting my time over nothing."

To his side, Jace was panicking, of course, but Callum didn't really care. Of course he was shitting bricks; he always was over something that didn't even matter in the end. An eternity of being mercilessly dragged on Twitter by your peers and you'd think one would toughen up a little by then.

As though brutally puncturing the life preserver Jace had thrown out, Callum shook his head. "It wasn't a joke," he responded simply, without missing a beat, "Since when have we been joking about how much of a two-faced asshole she is?" An incredulous look swept over his face, despite him having a pretty clear idea that Jace was trying to get out of any responsibility for this. Honestly, the guy hadn't really even done anything, so it was beyond Callum why he seemed to be so threatened by the whole thing in the first place.

"Would you just leave us alone?" he requested, uninterestedly scanning Evie's face with his light blue eyes for any sign of hesitation. His stare seemed to burn into others that way, even those who weren't really threatened by him at all. Callum was just a starer by nature; always had been.

code by valen t.

 

[gh0stwriter]

[

So look me in the eyes
Tell me what you see

M O O D : horny

O U T F I T : fit

L O C A T I O N : lock-in

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : gen

T A G S : geminiy

​

His eyes followed her every move. She was stunning. Always had been and probably always would be. It was natural. A glow and aura about her. And it was HOT. A smirk formed on his lips as she walked over, continuing the little game of cat and mouse they enjoyed so much. Both pretending that they were here for any other reason.

His hands found her hips. His thumbs caressed her bare skin as their gaze met. This wasn’t an ordinary hook up. This was his sister’s best friend. This was his friend. No matter who’s side she’d take in an argument, there was more on the line between them than just a casual fuck.

“Nope, never saw her. You should check the music department though, I heard they’re full of hot bitches with great racks and good asses.”

He huffed out a small chuckle. “Damn. No biggie. I guess I’ll settle for you.” He said as her gaze fell. He squeezed her hips gently. “That was a joke, Genny.” Concern washed over him. Did she really think he was being serious? Did he take their playful banter one joke too far?

People forgot Gen was an actual human being. It was her fault, but still. Not everyone got to see who she was behind the ‘Queen B’ persona. But didn’t everyone have one of those? A facade. Someone they pretended to be cause sometimes it was easier than being yourself or going after what you really wanted.

“Are you sure you-” Gen’s voice faltered, mouth going dry as she broke off the contact entirely with a step backwards. “Evie’s here so maybe we-”

He eyed her. This was about him? About Evie? No. This was about Liv. He knew how much she cared about her even if she wouldn’t admit it to anyone else. They didn’t talk much about exes. For one, he couldn’t. And refused to give them the satisfaction. Secondly, if he was being honest, Gen kind of reminded him of his ex. Slightly. They both cared what people thought. They both are too scared to go after what they really want. And they both were hot and they knew it.

“Fuck, maybe Eves isn’t the one going soft.”

Landon glanced down at the floor as he laughed at the comment before he returned her gaze. “I’m a big boy, Gen. And you aren’t manipulating me into anything.” He said as he placed his hand softly against her cheek and tilted her head so that she he was looking directly at her. “I want this.” He reassured her. Fuck did he want this. “I want you.” Want her. Hell, he’d make her an honest woman if Evie would allow it...well as honest as a seventeen year old was ready for.

“But if you want to just talk...if this is too much.” He smiled. “Then that’s good too.” He tilted her head hoping his eyes could pick up what she was thinking. “Your move, Genny.”

LANDON SINCLAIRE

º º code by ditto º º

 

[natsukashii]

Tilly Phoenix
"Dreaming like I paint: with my heart."

@Til2Morrow has set their status to:
Uh oh...

@Til2Morrow has set their outfit to:
Am I cute?

@Til2Morrow has set their location to:
At school

@Til2Morrow has mentioned:
Jamie, Gen, Eli, Josie, Saint

@Til2Morrow has interacted with:
Josie and Saint

@Til2Morrow has tagged:
jasmyn ohdittoh

Matilda Phoenix wasn’t your average painter whose dainty figure and the holder of a creative soul that was as vibrant as the oil-based colors that helped her create memories from her childhood, from her upbringing. Like the sunset that she saw every night growing up from her bedroom and the sunrise she’d stay up all night waiting for so she could get it just right. Matilda wasn’t the kind of girl you’d assume who would go out at night, take only a supply of spray paint cans and frames to create works of abstract art that her parents would be beside themselves with worry for what she does at night.

No, Matilda wasn’t the kind of girl you’d expect to live so dangerously close to the edge that if it weren’t for her rocks, she would fly away, dainty figure and all.

And that was because she had a partner in crime of sorts by her side making sure she didn’t copy Icarus and fly too close to the sun.

Josephine Bennett was her shield, the umbrella that protected her when her other protectors couldn’t or weren’t available. And it’s strange, because when you look at Tilly and then Josie and factor in their distinctively different personalities and how both are polar opposites, how exactly were they friends? What was their friendship like? Were their souls drawn to each other because of a shared creative interest? Was it because they were both pretty girls who seemed unfit for the limitless potential that Los Angeles contained within itself?

What was it?

The answer is simple. Josie was her first friend since she came to Hollywood Arts. Not counting the Johnnes twins, because Tilly knew them long before she came to HA. Josie was the first person who helped the lost and vulnerable painter traverse her way through the jungle that was Hollywood Arts. And it didn’t matter if they were complete opposites, to Tilly, Josie was her sister. She looked up to her as much as she relied on her.

And, since last night, she had been staying with Josie, at her place. And they spent the night just talking and the day sleeping so they could have enough energy for the Lock-In. And then when they arrived via Uber.

Most of what was in her bag had been what Tilly brought with her from her own place for the sleepover. She had a sketchbook and an array of colored pencils. Even though they were at school, Tilly wanted to be able to draw if she could. She didn’t know if she might see other people she was close to, such as her amazingly handsome boyfriend, Jamie. If she didn’t see him, then it was no worries because Tilly was with Jo! How could that be a bad thing, right?

"Oh! Liv said that Nate has the keys to the pool. If she can get them then I'm totally going skinny dip-"

As she placed her powder blue and cotton candy bag over her shoulder, grunting as she adjusted to its weight, Tilly stared with wonder at Josie and her cheeks flushed at her friend’s comment. “O-oh…” she said nervously, grabbing her duffle bag strap as if trying to balance out the embarrassment before flipping her slight frown into a smile. “I’m sure that’ll be fun!”

Tilly and Jo walked and walked and then when she saw someone approach, Josie didn’t because they had bumped into them, falling to the ground on her butt. “Oh no!” Tilly kneeled down to Josie’s side, looking at her friend with a concern that was matched by a tense awkward feeling when she looked up briefly, seeing who they bumped into.

She didn’t say anything, but internally, she knew this was going to be a very uncomfortable few minutes.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: take me home already

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: school

basics

MENTIONS:
Adriane, Javi

INT:
Winona (Ava)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Angel Cervantes

"Ow..." Angel muttered in a quiet, defeated monotone, his hung head not daring to face the girl he'd just bumped into. Poor thing. He'd always heard impacts into the mammaries sucked for girls like no other.

When he looked up, he immediately wished he'd just kept his eyes on his shoes. The readead ahead (say that five times fast) had a nasty RBF, which almost completely cancelled out the comfort of being asked if he was okay. Angel blinked his wet, stinging eyes, feeling a little more exposed than he was comfortable with.

As though his nose wasn't starting to run, the socially awkward boy wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm and meekly protested, "I'm not crying." It wasn't like he was sobbing or anything dramatic; in fact, his cheeks weren't even all red like they were like Javi's when he used to scream-cry at him. "I'm not," he insisted, predicting the girl's skepticism eons in advance.

He stood up straight, which was still about the same height as the intimidatingly exasperated redhead probing him about his emotional state. "Sorry for obstructing your path," he apologized, slightly ignoring the fact that he hadn't really answered her question. To tell the truth would be endlessly embarrassing, but to lie would just feel wrong and kind of sad. Angel was sad enough, both in the moment and by nature. He didn't want to be sad. He wanted to be at home sipping from a coke can with a straw while doodling sci-fi Leatherface with sunglasses.

At the very least, he owed this girl some sort of compensation for bothering to show a polite amount of concern. Then again, Angel had a problem with oversharing and he wasn't sure how much information he could have gotten away with either omitting or needlessly adding, like the brief moment he'd almost forgotten to draw Adriane's nose on her caricature before approaching her.

"I just, like, drew this girl and she got kind of upset over it," he admitted hoarsely, sheepishly pulling his sketchbook out and displaying the drawing. Regardless of the circumstances, he was still proud of his work. It was a vexing situation having an art piece Angel was actually quite fond of in the center of another one of his awkward debacles.

"I drew her hands the wrong way by accident, I guess," he pointed out, guiding the girl's attention along the drawing with his index finger, "And she didn't like that I made it kind of, I dunno, ethereal or something. I drew ice and stuff on her but I didn't know she'd actually turn out to be an ice queen." He smiled tragically, his head fixed so intently onto the sketchbook that it slightly obscured his puffy eyes.

"Anyway, that's all," he concluded, looking back up, "She thought it was ugly, then she said a lot of stuff, and I tried to fix things, but I was all overwhelmed and..." He shook his head. "I don't know why I'm here," he rasped, despite stubbornly trying to soothe his swollen vocal chords, "Like, at this school. Right now. I should have known better than to voluntarily interact with strangers all alone." Great going. How charming and reassuring.

"U-uh, anyway." No! No! You already said 'anyway'! "Sorry, you probably didn't need to hear all that. Sorry! Thanks for your... concern... um..." His voice trailed off, and he met the girl's eyes as a silent way to request her name. Based on what he'd ascertained in the past minute or so about the girl from her facial expressions alone, he was in no place to be making small talk. Either that or he took everything as a sign that he'd overstayed his welcome.

Angel felt fairly compelled to dart down the hall and stop bothering the poor, innocent victim to another one of his unnecessary anecdotes. Sure, she'd asked why he was crying (which he wasn't), but who really wants to hear all that? When has Angel ever had anything important to say other than some incoherent, dorky rambling? There was a reason he was at Hollywood Arts to draw and not to sing in front of crowds or act in a movie or something.

code by valen t.

 

[ohdittoh]

. saint andrew taylor .

mood: ...hello...again

outfit: casual

location: the halls of the school

mentions: n/a

interactions: jo & tilly

tags: jasmyn natsukashii

TO BE QUITE frank, Saint would be content to carry on a single day without being reminded of the existence of the pain in his ass that was his ex.

Ah, maybe he shouldn’t’ve put it that way. The “pain in his ass” comment made him seem as if he cared this way or that about her— found her annoying, let her presence get to him, was irked by her existence or the existence of their past— and he couldn’t say that…

But she was a pain in the ass, really, because with her came the memories of their good and bad times. Mind you, those memories had no bearing on him, either. He didn’t want to think about them, though. Not because they hurt— not in the slightest. Just because they were…nuisances, to put it lightly.

Of course, it was a well-known fact that the universe hated its inhabitants with a burning passion for no reason whatsoever, and it never let you be content in life. It always threw the last thing that you wanted at you.

As Saint walked down the hallway, keys in his hands, eyes scanning the faces lining the walls as he tried to go cow calculations in his head, the universe took its opportunity to throw a wrench in his act of “just vibing”— by throwing a young, dark-headed girl into his chest.

Naturally, Saint did not recognize who it was at first. He stumbled back a step, dropping his keys onto the ground. His backpack slipped down onto his elbow, and he made a soft grunt at the weight slamming into the inside of his elbow.

What happened took a moment to register, and he slipped his backpack up onto his shoulder again. Someone had run into him, and now they lay on the ground, along with his keys and some girl kneeling beside them.

He looked down at his keys, and he bent slowly to pick them up. After shoving them in his pocket, he reached out and grabbed the duffle bag that seemed to belong to some kind of girl. “Are you alright…?” he asked slowly. As he finished his sentence, he moved his eyes to the girl.

Immediately upon seeing her closer, he realized who it was, and he sighed inwardly.

“Oh, Josie,” he said in his low buzz. “A pleasure to see you again…”

One night without being reminded of Jo was, apparently, far too much to ask, and the girl had been placed right in front of him. It was getting very old, very fast.

He moved his eyes to the girl kneeling beside her. He lowered the duffle bag, holding it out to Jo as he studied the girl and tried to place her. “I don’t think that I recognize you…,” Saint concluded slowly, speaking to Jo’s companion. He held out a hand for her to shake. “Saint…” He dropped his hand, flashing a courteous, split-second smile. “Taylor…oh, wait.” He paused a moment, his brows tilting down for a second. “You’re in visuals…I do recognize you…though I can’t say I know your name. Regardless, it’s a pleasure to see you as well.”

He turned his attention to Josie again, and he held out his hand to her to help her up. He let out an amused puff of air from his nose. “You need to be more careful…,” he warned, though a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.

It was cute. He would admit that; her clumsiness was cute. It was always something that he found charming.

“You look good tonight,” he complimented absently.

She did look good tonight.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

Juliette Jameson
"Five feet away please, I can't be seen with an embarrassment.”

@QueenJules has set their status to:
lol. still waiting.

@QueenJules has set their outfit to:
Me looking cute AF. Duh.

@QueenJules has interacted with:
Damien, Felix

@QueenJules has mentioned:
Landon, Gen, ???

@QueenJules has tagged:
ohdittoh Winona​

She never understood the meaning of lock-ins. Why the hell would you want to spend a night with your classmates? Juliette is around them at least five days out of the week and that's not even counting weekends, sharing studios, and practicing routines. If she wasn't around anyone she liked, what was the point? Well, she supposed this was a good way to spend time with her boyfriend. She says as though most of her time hasn't been spent with him. Which, wasn't all true. Most of her time this week was spent with Eli. And of course, Ava, here and there but they haven't hung out since Halloween.

Especially now, Ava's favorite pastime was pissing Jules off. And apparently, that pastime had been flirting with one Genevieve Johannes. Why? Well, nobody knew why Ava ever does what she does. She was a very... stupid, weird, and a completely fashionably doomed individual. Jules couldn't save everyone from their own horrid choices.

You'd think when you had a boyfriend, they'd actually show up on time.

And on time for Juliette was at least an hour late.

... At least when she expected people to show up, of course if it was the other way around-- fashionably late or nothing.

You'd think Dorian would want to meet somewhere else... wet.

Juliette glanced over at the wooden table, seeing a piece of artwork that was most definitely the saddest excuse of art there could be, and without a care in the world, she pushed it off the edge.

Whoops.

She sat on top of the table and scrolled through her phone, texting her boyfriend at least three times to remind him that she's here.

Waiting.

Patiently.

"Hey,"

JJ looked up from her phone to see a familiar blonde and...

Oh god.

Da--

Slut--

She couldn't even say his name in her mind without gagging internally.

Juliette raised an eyebrow, her gaze completely focused on Damien as he introduced himself and Felix.

Her gaze shifted to the hand that was being held out, but she didn't make a move to take it. "... I--" JJ scoffed, glancing between the two boys before nodding her head. "Obviously." furrowing her brows in confusion.

Why was he even talking to her right now?

Although, he wasn't that ugly in person-- she had a boyfriend.

Ugh.

She could only imagine what his personality was like in person. "Felix," Juliette said, extending a hand to him instead of Damien. She knew of him from those little teaser trailers or something of that stupid movie Landon was in.

No, she didn't care what Landon starred in.

As long as the end had him dead in it, that was enough for her.

"You're in that new... something, movie coming out soon right?"

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

. felix rian emmerson .

mood: howdy

outfit: somethin' casual

location: the halls of the school

mentions: n/a

interactions: slater & jj

tags: Winona Soap

FELIX CHUCKLED softly. “No fuckin’ idea?” he repeated. “Now, since when did Damien Slater, in the flesh, in his infinite wisdom, run outta things to do with this many people around?” he teased lightly. “That’s not your game. Your game is…your game, ya know?”

That sentence made no sense, but he hoped he got the sentiment.

“I was trying to hit up this really hot chick, but she has a fucking boyfriend,” Slater said.

“Oop,” Felix said, lookin’ away with widenin' eyes, blowin’ a stream of air from his lips and puttin’ his hands on his hips. Whoop, there it was. His eyes flicked back to Slater, a question in them: if that’s the case, then why ain’t you bleedin’?

“And no,” Slater said, seeming to understand his question (though it was Slater, and Felix didn’t have too much confidence in his ability to read signals, so it quite possibly could’ve been coincidence), “I didn’t meet the fuckhead, and no, he didn’t fucking punch me in the face or some shit. Not this time. Not really sure what else…”

Slater trailed off, and Felix noticed his eyes catch on something. Felix kinda didn’t wanna know what it was, because he was sure that he was goin’ to drag him along, so Felix just smiled politely and hoped that he’d lose interest.

The hopin' was futile, of course; there was something to be said for Slater’s perseverance, and he didn’t waver in his wantin' to pursue whatever target he’d settled on.

“Hey, dude, c’mon,” Slater said, grinnin’ and givin' Felix a slap in the chest as he walked past him and made his way toward the—

For a moment, Felix stood, grin frozen on his wide-eyed face as he let his eyes fall to the girl who Slater was approachin’.

Oh good, merciful Lord…

Look, Felix was a guy who supported his friends regardless of everything. Or, ya know, at least he tried. That meant bein’ with them through a lot of “dumb decisions”…

But talkin’ to JJ Jameson as Damien Slater was kinda a death wish. Felix had experience talkin’ with forbodin’ people, thanks to his father’s insistence that he come along to meetings with him, but talkin’ with that teenage girl seemed a bit more, uh…how to put it…intimidatin’ than even those experiences. Now, without the presence of Slater, the danger of a conversation with JJ was probably greatly decreased, but with Slater…Felix felt some kinda primal, existential dread.

And also just…ya know, a general fuck me for pickin' this dude as my friend.

But he went along, his first couple of steps cautious before he settled into a normal pace.

“Look, I’ll show you how to actually pick up chicks, since you’re just…just really fucking hopeless,” Slater said, but he grinned back at him, so Felix was sure he was probably kinda at least a little bit kiddin'.

Felix let out a soft chuckle, lowerin’ one eyebrow. “Uh, yeah.”

Oh no, oh noooo. He was gonna do it. Oh nooo…

His brows knit in sympathy. Poor guy. He was really about to be reamed.

Felix would buy him ice cream and a case of beer or something afterward and hold his shoulders as he cried if he needed to. It was gonna be alright.

As they came to a stop beside JJ, Felix’s eyes focused on the girl, and his grin became more apologetic.

I’m sorry for this.

"Hey," Slater greeted, and she looked up at him as he held his hand out. "I don't think we've had a chance to formally meet. I'm Damien, this is Felix—“ Felix gave a small wave at his introduction. “— and you are....? JJ, right?"

She stared for a moment, and Felix held back an awkward laugh. "... I—“ She scoffed, lookin’ between the two of them. Felix tried to convey his apology to her again. "Obviously,” she said, and she furrowed her brows.

And then, for some reason, she held her hand out to—

"Felix," Juliette said.

“Howdy,” he piped instinctively, givin’ another small wave.

”You're in that new...something, movie coming out soon right?" she asked.

He reached out and took her hand, givin’ it a firm shake, and he nodded and chuckle. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said, grinnin’. He dropped her hand. “So you’ve heard of Our Deepest Sympathy?” he asked. “I’m really lookin’ forward to that comin' out. March better hurry up and come, that’s all I have to say.” He chuckled softly. “And you’re JJ. I think I saw you perform at last year’s Arts Fest— dancin', if I recall correctly?” His grin broadened, and he gave a nod. “You’re really talented, JJ.”

He stood for a moment, and then he recalled the presence of the friend behind him. Cautiously, he took a step backward. “Slatemate and I’re just tryin’ to occupy ourselves. Nothin’ much really seems to be happenin' here yet.” He elbowed Slater gently, grinnin’ up at him. “My bud suggested we come talk to you…” He looked back at her, grin still on his face. “Ya know, to network or what have you. He’s still new here, and I just generally haven’t spoken too much, and you seemed like a welcomin' enough person to speak to.”

There. Maybe I saved your ass.

“Anyway, it’s really nice to meet you,” he said, and he looked back up at Slater, finally stoppin’ his talkin’.

I gave you some rope, bud. Please don’t hang yourself with it.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Charlie Howell

@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
fucking rain

@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
sunflowers & denim

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
the roof entrance

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
Amy, Jo, Lin

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
Trevor

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
ohdittoh

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no. Trevor was crying. Charlie had only ever seen Trevor tear up a few times in their years of friendship, showing emotion wasn’t exactly his strong suit. Usually he just brushed things off or locked himself away and drowned his sorrows in marijuana. Honestly, that is exactly what Charlie had been expecting to happen during their confrontation. She would cry and be overly emotional, he would brush things under the rug and smoke a joint as if they were just hanging out. She had been so certain of that line up of events that she had preemptively promised herself not to get mad when it happened, anger would only make their situation worse.

What Charlie had not been counting on, however, was Trevor snuffing out his joint and joining Charlie in her waterworks.

The words that were falling from Trevor’s lips also came as a complete surprise. Trevor was the kind of person that showed he cared in literally any other way than verbally. He was the kind of person who never explicitly told people he loved them or that he was proud, the kind of person that assumed that his actions made his feelings clear. Charlie knew that Trevor cared about her, that much had never been in question, but hearing him say that he loved her explicitly? That he appreciated the things she does for him? That she wasn’t just someone he wanted to throw aside like so many other people had?

Charlie was entirely speechless. Honestly she probably looked like a bit of an idiot, standing there with mouth slightly agape as she blinked the stinging tears from her eyes. How does someone react to something that they had never in a million years expected to hear from someone? It took Charlie a few moments to process what he had said, another few to really let them sink in. Her ears stopped listening to his voice, instead focusing in on the rolling storm creeping towards them on the horizon.

"An'...an' I’m here. I'm here to make what I did better. An' I'm here to be a fuck-up with you…if you’ll have me back as your friend.”

Charlie couldn’t say anything though she dug around in her head for the right words to say. Everything was such a fucking mess that she couldn’t find anything to say that would rectify the situation. Instead, Charlie just launched herself forwards into Trevor’s chest as she squeezed him tightly around his torso, the tears still gently flowing down her face.

“Fuck Trev, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” She mustered, voice muffled as she buried her face into his chest. “This whole thing was just so stupid and it went too far and no matter what you say, part of that was my fault. This past week has been absolute hell without you. People can say all the shit they want about you being a shitty person or being a bad friend or whatever but none of it is true. We all make mistakes, we all fuck up, but what good are friends for if we can’t fuck up together?”

Charlie fell silent again, her hug around Trevor’s abdomen never loosening as she steadied her breath. She pushed down the feelings of weakness in favour of being open and vulnerable. Of all her friends, being open with Trevor had always been the most difficult. Charlie was always afraid of saying the wrong thing, waiting for the hammer to drop and ruin the peace.

Intense emotions were hard for her to express anyhow with her crippling fear of rejection, a situation made no better by the events of the start of the school year. Everyone at Hollywood Arts just saw her as the weak whiny bitch that stuck her nose in places it didn’t belong, or at least that’s what Charlie had believed. But if it was her friends on the line, if it was her integrity on the line, then it was 100% her business. Fuck anyone who believed otherwise. At the end of the day, they would be alone with nothing but their foul words and bitter dispositions. Even through all the shit, Charlie always had her friends. She always had Amy and Jo and Lin. She always had Trevor.

Dropping her arms, Charlie stepped back and frantically wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her jacket. Her breath had stopped hitching in her throat and the tears had ceased their steady stream down her reddened cheeks. Sighing heavily, she looked up at Trevor and wiped away a few tears from his face too, playfully ruffling his hair as she dropped back down onto her feet.

“Never again.” Charlie spoke softly, a gentle smile forming on her lips. “I promise that I will do everything in my power to never let this happen again. I don’t want to be here if you’re not by my side, Trev. You’re like my home away from home. Shit will happen, that much I can guarantee, but I’m never going to take it out on you again. This? The fighting, the putting ourselves down because we fucked up, the avoiding each other? Never again. I promise. I want… No, I need my best friend back.”

A crash overhead caused Charlie to jump, tripping backwards slightly as she grabbed onto the edge to regain her balance. Cold rain dripped onto her face and down her neck, strands of blonde hair sticking to her pale skin.

“Shit, come on!” Charlie giggled through the storm, looping her arm around Trevor’s and tugging him towards the door.

The rain poured down onto the roof, grey concrete turning black with each heavy drop of water splashing onto the surface. Grabbing the guitar case sitting by the door, Charlie pushed the bar to open the door and paused. The door hadn’t moved. The rain continued pouring down as she struggled with the door.

“I swear if someone fucking loc-” Charlie paused, shaking her head. Pulling the door towards her, the lock unlatched and she jumped inside, pulling Trevor along with her. “Pull, not push.”

Charlie wiped away some of the rain from her face, placing her guitar case back on the ground. Shivering slightly from the sudden draft from the air conditioning unit, Charlie looked up to Trevor and promptly burst into laughter.

“Man, the storm just had to go all Nicholas Sparks on us.” She laughed as she strained the water from the tips of her hair. Shaking her hair out around her face, Charlie looked down at the stairs below. Squinting slightly, Charlie leaned forwards to the railing.

“Trev, is that a used condom or am I tripping? Someone was seriously up in here getting laid while we were having a serious discussion. They probably bounced when they heard me struggling with the door. GET A ROOM NEXT TIME, STAIRWAY FUCKERS!” Charlie yelled down the stairwell, a door slamming shut somewhere many floors below them. Caught in the act, how embarrassing. Charlie’s laughter began to subside with the ache of her sides as she looked over to Trevor, smile fading slightly. “Are we… are we good? Because I really missed you man.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Isabella Dupont

@bellaissima has set their status to:
oh boy oh boy don't freak out she's just a peer

@bellaissima has set their outfit to:
comfy cozy

@bellaissima has set their location to:
the gym

@bellaissima has mentioned:
Ronnie

@bellaissima has interacted with:
Kelli & Naomi

@bellaissima has tagged:
ohdittoh Kitsune2202

“Yooo!”

Bella had been lost in her own thoughts, hand absentmindedly rubbing her arm when Kelli bounded up to her, arms wide open for a hug. Bella wasn’t usually one for hugs from practical strangers but hell, Kelli was a sweet girl. Bella softly hugged her back, a wide grin on her face as she pulled back. Hollywood Arts was a scary place to try and get used to but Kelli had made it significantly easier. It was nice to see a friendly face in a crowd of strangers.

“Bonsoir, ma chère!” Bella chirped with a smile, taking Kelli’s hand and twirling her around. “You look beautiful, Kelli! Did you get ready with…” Bella paused, biting her lower lip as she thought of the name. Red hair, cute freckles, similar personality to Kelli. “Veronica, that is her name! Did you get ready with Veronica? She has amazing taste in fashion if you did.”

Snapping her fingers together, Bella reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box.

“I actually brought you something, a thank you gift for helping me move in.” Bella spoke softly, handing the box to Kelli. “It is a charm bracelet, I hope it fits. I saw you admiring mine when we were unpacking so I got you one, fresh import from Paris. It is the least I could get you for all of your help, miss Kelli.”

Behind the pair, a voice called out Bella’s name. Bella’s nose scrunched up at the call of her full name. Isabella. No one calls her Isabella. Looking over her shoulder, Bella saw the girl that had called her. She recognized her face though from where she couldn’t exactly place. Scanning the girl, Bella’s eyes settled on her slightly outreached hand.

“My journal!” Bella exclaimed, walking over to meet the girl as she gently took the book from her hands. Hugging the journal to her chest, Bella looked up at the girl and smiled. “I did not even realize I dropped it. Thank you so much, chérie, this book is very important to-”

A realization hit Bella, her face flushing dark pink as she placed where she knew the face. Bella wasn’t one who kept up much with celebrities often, there was too much petty drama and foolish outbursts for her taste. There were, however, a few writers that Bella had kept tabs on over the years, people that had inspired and influenced her own writing.

“Oh mon Dieu,” Bella cleared her throat, straightening up her back as she attempted to not sound and look like some sort of creepy fan. “You are Naomi Elizondo. Your writing, it is incredible. Your poetry and stories have influenced my writing so much over the years. I did not know you came to this school.” Bella paused, blinking a few times. Wow, way to not sound stalkerish. “Um, my apologies. This is a rather strange interaction to have, you are a student like everyone else here. I just… wow. I never thought that I would meet someone who had such a heavy impact on my life. I would thank you but that seems strange since we are now peers.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

dominicka abrams

have you heard?

“I don’t…I don’t want your Kleenex.”

Ash’s voice was cold.

Nickie blinked at her.

“I don’t, I don’t, I don’t want anyone— least of all you.”

Nickie felt everything in her drain.

The color from her face.

The energy in her body.

Her heart palpitated.

She stared at Ash, unable to move or react for a moment.

Her heart pumped acid though her veins.

You.

She said it like she hated her—

She fucking hated her.

Fuck.

After Nickie fucking cared— after Nickie offered her—

"I'm not...I'm sorry you're having a shitty night, but I'm not...I'm not going to.. sit with you and cry or whatever it is you think we're going to do, okay?”

Nickie clenched her jaw.

Her eyes were brimming with tears again.

Ash was growing blurry.

“I don't want you to comfort me so you feel better about, what, all the shitty things you've done?"

Nickie was frozen.

She couldn’t think or talk or anything.

She was stuck, listening to everything that she’d told herself internally be voiced.

"I don't want to listen to you complain about your night and try to convince you that you're like, what? A good person? Because you're not. You're selfish and you like dragging people down, and I'm just...I don't want to hang out with you. So just..just fuck off and leave me alone. Seriously."

Nickie stood for a moment, Kleenex held weakly in her hand.

And she felt so fake.

She felt so small.

She felt so disgusting.

She felt embarrassed.

Mortified.

Like some kind of fucking slug.

She blinked, and tears escaped her eyes.

Selfish.

“Fuck off…?” she repeated weakly. “Fuck off…” Her voice was hardly a whisper— was hardly anything.

It echoed through her head.

Ash wanted her to go away.

Everyone wanted her to go away.

Everyone hated her.

Everyone, when they looked at her, had that tone— that—

Go die.

Go off yourself.

That fucking tone.

And hearing it aloud—

Hearing it aloud— hearing it said aloud— by someone who she at least kind of liked, at least kind of respected—

She would say it hurt. She would say it stung.

But that was a fucking understatement.

It was magma on her skin, in her throat.

She looked through her tears at Ash.

And she saw everything that everyone was saying and thinking about her.

She saw every disgusting trait that she possessed.

In a burst of anger, she threw the Kleenex down at the ground, and she balled up her fists. “You’re such a bitch!” she yelled.

The word tore her lungs and her throat, though it wasn’t very loud.

It was like a caged animal’s last hurrah— biting back after enduring everything all fucking week— and all of her fucking life.

And she couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop herself from crying and couldn’t stop herself from letting everything out.

“Callum was fucking right,” she said.

Her ears burned and rang.

“You want to tell yourself that? You want to say that he’s right? I’ll say it loud for you— I’ll tell you it myself. Yeah, he’s fucking right— he’s fucking right, Ash.”

Her chest was burning, her jaw was aching.

“You call me selfish? You’re the fucking selfish one.”

Her voice was cracking and breaking wildly, and tears flowed from her eyes like rivers, but she couldn’t stop.

“You’re disgusting— fucking disgusting. You’re more than a shitty person— you’re more than a whore. You are goddamn scum.”

She gasped a sob.

“You’re so fucking gross. Go cry— see if anyone fucking cares.”

She was repeating what everyone said to her.

She was repeating what she said to her.

“If they knew who you were, you’d be just like me— fucking standing alone, fucking crying alone, fucking puking your guts out on the fucking floor and falling down and wallowing in that shit because you can’t do any fucking better for yourself, because you’re a shitty attention whore who has no loyalty, who doesn’t give a fuck as long as it gives her fucking attention, and that’s all you are, and that is all you will ever be, Ash.”

All you will ever be, Nickie.

mood
...

location
the school

outfit
casual wear

playing...
letdown

by carter​

mentions
n/a

interactions
ash

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ava Sanders
"Life is for keeping score."

@queenofhell has set their status to:
[insert a middle finger emoji here]

@queenofhell has interacted with:
Angel

@queenofhell has mentioned:
N/A

@queenofhell has tagged:
hery ​

There was a lot that irritated one Ava Sanders. Unwelcome advances from self-proclaimed fuck boys... refilling the soap container... cleaning in general... people in general. But there was one thing that tended to cut its way under her skin and irritate her more than anything else.

People who wouldn't fucking admit they were crying or wouldn't fucking admit that they were upset. She didn't get it and she supposed she never would -- people that wouldn't just shut the fuck up, or accept the comfort. Actually, you know, she didn't even care if people refused to accept the comfort. The last thing that Ava wanted to do was sit around and hold someone's hand while they sobbed, but holy fuck. Why deny that you were upset? Where did that fucking get anyone?

She'd answer that question for you -- the answer was absolutely nowhere.

If it wasn't for the dude's absolutely pitiful expression and the way that he kind of reminded her of a toddler or like... a sick puppy, she'd probably have turned around and walked right on out of there. Not even bothered to try and talk to the guy, but...

She could be a bitch, but she wasn't heartless like so many people assumed.

... Well she was but not totally heartless.

Also he talked kind of weird so that had her attention.

Ava listened, growing more and more disinterested as he wove his tale. Right-o. So he'd drawn a picture of some girl and she got all pissy over it because he'd... given her... funky hands? That's about what she was getting from this. Kind of a dumb reason to snap at someone like this guy, in her opinion, but hey, to each their own. Plus given the snobby bitch to decent human being ratio in the school, chances were he'd made the idiotic decision of drawing one of the snobby bitches.

Not even chances were. He definitely had, because why else would he be crying?

"Do you... normally interact with strangers with like... a guide?" Ava's eyebrows drew together in confusion for a moment, before she shook her head and decided that simply wasn't really that freaking important. The dude was hurting and hey, she was kind of bored, so the least that she could do was try and comfort the little fuck out of the pure goodness of her heart (and yeah, stop your laughing).

"Look..." she started, only to realize that she didn't know the guy's name. With as nice of a smile as she could manage, Ava held her hand out. "I'm Ava. I don't have anything to do here, so if you want..." Ava was going to regret this. She knew it. She could feel it. "We could... hangout... or something. Do you wanna go throw water balloons at the bitch that made you cry or something?"

She was totally joking.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

[

I am, I am trying
The best that I can

M O O D : undetermined

O U T F I T : fit

L O C A T I O N : inside dean's office

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : dalton

T A G S : Xed

​

Reputation? Is that what he liked to call it? She supposed he was right. High school was all about reputation. Strong. Weak. Nerd. Bitch. Just because this was Hollywood Arts, it didn’t separate them from the pack. If anything, reputation was MORE important here. Meant more. Decided whether you had what it took to make it. That’s what these files really were. One way tickets to wealth and fame or back to Kansas you go.

She knew all about Dalton’s reputation. But it didn’t bother her. She respected him. He wasn’t fake. He wasn’t trying to be anything other than himself. Though the company he chose to keep was less than desirable at times, it was high school. The time to make mistakes. And as long as he didn’t fumble too much, he’d be fine.

“As for teaching you my tricks..." Dalton paused for effect, "my lessons don't come cheap. You sure you can afford them Fox?"

Lydia smirked. He knew the answer. But in true Dalton fashion, he couldn’t make a remark without having dickish undertones. “Aww...afraid I won’t need you if I can do the break part of breaking and entering?” She teased as she continued to flip through the files. “Don’t worry, Kirby. You’re still the perfect scapegoat if we are ever caught.” She winked as she tossed the file down and picked up another one. This was turning out to be quite the unsuccessful tripl and it was getting irritating.

"Jealous?"

She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t jealous. That wasn’t something she ever felt the need to partake in. Relationships...high school relationships were irrelevant. The chance that she or anyone would ever make it passed senior year was slim. She wasn’t opposed to the idea. But she was realistic. She’d never put them above her career and if they couldn’t understand that, then they’d never last.

She saw him tense when she had mentioned his file. She had an unwritten rule. Her friends. Those close to her were off limits. That didn’t narrow it down much as friends wasn’t something that came easy to her, but it wasn’t her business and Angel and Dalton have proved useful to have around. Why ruin a good thing by digging up their past if they didn’t deserve it, right?

"That interested in conducting a personal search into my life story? If you want to know me intimately Fox, you can just say so. No need to play coy."

She couldn’t contain her laughter. “Know you intimately? Who talks like that?” She said as she closed another file and moved onto the next. “Coy, huh? Look who’s pulling out those SAT words.” She said with a wink. “Interesting word choice though. Means you find me alluring.” She stood up and showed off her body. “What have I said about mixing business and pleasure?”

Alright. She never said that but it was implied. Dalton was a player. And she was...something else entirely. It wouldn’t work. They wouldn’t work. Not that she thought about it cause she didn’t. Not once. A smile formed on her lips as he made his way over to her. Her eyes never wavered. He thought he had game. And it probably worked for most of the people he tried it on, but she knew better. Her eyes searched his as he took his time and grabbed the file behind her before making his way back to his original position.

Nice try, bucko, but he’d have to try a hell of a lot harder than that to get in her pants. Not that he was trying to. Cause he wasn’t. She wasn’t. It wasn’t a thing. She set another file down in frustration. This was—

"Hey Fox," he smirked as he motioned her over, "come look at this."

She perked up and glanced over at Dalton. She was by his side in an instant invading his space as she read the file. “Looks like our little Mikaela got her nose in a little trouble.” She said pleased with her joke. It would be perfect for ThirsTea, though, the pant of guilt...or recognition hit her stomach like a pit. But she shook it off, like she did most of the time. These were secrets, sure, but news worth hearing...it’s not like the tabloids would be any easier on them after they graduated.

“This is good. This is really good. Look at you being all sleuthy. There might be hope for you yet.”

LYDIA FOX

º º code by ditto º º

 

[jasmyn]

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  excited and not at all nervous!
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  too much? not enough?

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  walking into HA
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  chanel ( Soap ) casey ( Winona )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Camille Clairmont

dancing queen ~ 17 ~ junior

The Clairmont siblings had been attending the school for about a week but it still felt kinda like a dream that Cami was bound to wake up from. Yeah, yeah. Going to high school seemed like a stupid dream and one that most teenagers would be more than happy to skip but Camille Clairmont wasn't most teenagers. She had been living life in the so-called fast lane all of her life, hopping from city to city and all that. It had always been fun but she was ready for something more stable. LA was perfect!

No more doing her homework on the back of a tour bus while Casey lays lazily in his bunk begging her to do his too. No more traveling but never getting to stay in a place long enough to actually appreciate all it has to offer. No more listening to Chanel complain about how she hated touring or whatever else she decided to hate that day. They could just enjoy taking their time embracing all that LA had to offer. They could figure out who they were without their parents. Do their own things.

The best part? They could make actual friends! Ones that weren't just put in their paths due to their parents connections or that they would lose because they had to pack up and move on to the next place. This was their chance to actually have lives outside of touring. That's why she had come to tonight. Hollywood Arts lock in! It had been talked about all over Twitter and it sounded like fun. Not to mention a good opportunity to get to know more of the students outside of her department.

Of course, despite her sister's obvious disapproval she'd already managed to make a friend in one Elias Johannes. He was super sweet and had even taken the time to show her around the school which was a big help because it was huge. Cami would've probably gotten lose about ten times if it hadn't been for him and that would've been embarrassing.

Honestly, she didn't understand why Chanel had been so harsh with him but it wasn't anything new. Her sister hardly ever approved of anyone the siblings befriended and while Casey might've had bad judgement, Cami wasn't so...naive. Okay, so she had been in situations before that Chanel had gotten her out of and she'd trusted people who later proved to be using her for her family name but that was besides the point.

"What d'ya think they do at lock-ins?"

Her brother's question pulled her out of her own thoughts, making her think for a second. She had no clue what they did at lock ins, she didn't even know they were a thing until a week ago. "I don't know. I just heard we were supposed to bring sleeping bags. How do these things actually work? They don't feel comfortable," she asked, looking at the rolled up bag in her hand. "You just put it on the ground?" she questioned again, this time a little more concerned. It felt barbaric.

When she heard Casey mention something about barrels and fire her head snapped in his direction. "No fire, Sese! I'm not gonna let you burn the school down, okay? I actually like it here," she warned him, though her voice and stature always made her come across way less threatening than she wanted. "What do you think, Nellie? Maybe we can like do those ice breakers things! That's a good way to get to know new people," she suggested as they approached the doors of the school.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[geminiy]

Genevieve Johannes

@genjohanne has set their status to:
fuck it, gen, be real

@genjohanne has set their outfit to:
that 70's show (sans that 70's shirt)

@genjohanne has set their location to:
a classroom

@genjohanne has mentioned:
Evie, Ash, Eli

@genjohanne has interacted with:
Landon

@genjohanne has tagged:
gh0stwriter

Why the fuck did he have to be so nice? Like seriously, since when were the Sinclaires ever known for being nice? Sure, Evie had her moments but the extent of her ‘kindness’ was mentally beating Gen into thinking straight. Landon was sort of a jackass like 80% of the time, far from characterized as the school sweetheart. It would have just been easier if he was a jackass 100% of the time. Gen wouldn’t have to think about hurting his feelings or getting him caught up in the middle of stupid drama if he was an asshole, she just wouldn’t care. But no, he just had to go and be all nice and sweet and understanding.

“No,” Gen blurted out suddenly, her voice nearly cutting off Landon. “This isn’t too much, this isn’t enough by our standards. I’ve just had a lot going through my head lately, no need to bore you with the details.”

A blatant lie, of course, Gen was great at lying. She would have loved to talk about her problems, get everything out in the open with the one person she was positive would listen to her. But she knew that Landon and Mike didn’t get along as it was, he didn’t need to hear that Gen had fucked up and slept with him multiple times. Landon also didn’t need to hear about all the drama with Liv. Gen had made her stance explicitly clear with Liv and she was convinced that the two were finally over. The last ties had been cut between them, there was nothing holding them to each other anymore.

Gen pulled Landon in and kissed him, no longer waiting for her brain to justify her actions. If she had waited any longer, she would have backed out. Being with Landon was fun and all but being with him always brought her guilt if she thought about it too much. The last thing Gen needed to feel was more guilt. She just needed to stop thinking and forget. Pulling away after a few minutes, Gen pulled off her shirt and chucked it to the side.

“Besides,” Gen continued as she frantically worked Landon’s shirt off his torso, “the last thing I need is to keep talking. We’ve never been very good at holding conversation, we’re much better at other things.”

【𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙥 𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙮 𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙟𝙖𝙣. 𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙟𝙖𝙣: 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩. 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩.】​

In every other circumstance, really good sex would have been enough to get Gen out of her head. She could forget the world in the moment and feel relaxed enough afterwards to at least stop worrying for a few hours. Landon, as always, hadn’t failed to impress. There was something different about being with him, though Gen couldn’t entirely place it. It was like they were working together rather than opposing each other, like they could anticipate what the other person would do before they did it.

Being with Landon was comforting, even if it didn’t help Gen forget everything.

As the two sat on the classroom floor catching their breath, Gen’s mind began to wander. This time, her thoughts were slightly different. The past week had been hell for Gen, one wave of guilt and shame after another. Liv hadn’t left her mind until she met up with Landon. Mike seemed to be everywhere, inescapable in day to day life as they shared classes and friend groups. There was nothing Gen could do to escape the pain that kept her awake at night.

Gen couldn’t talk about her complicated love life with anyone. Ash had her own shit going on, Elias was a busy guy who hardly had time to listen to her ramblings. Evie was freshly boo’d up, she didn’t need to hear about how miserable Gen was. Her next option would have been Mike but he had become part of the problem. She had felt completely on her own until Landon.

“Hey, can I be real for a minute?” Gen spoke, sliding herself upwards so she was propped up against the main desk at the front of the classroom. Her hand reached out and took Landon’s, her thumb tracing the ridges on the back of his hand. “Cut me off if I sound like an idiot and spare me the embarrassment but, um, I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

Pausing, Gen’s face crinkled up as she shook her head.

“Wait no, that came out wrong. Given what just happened, saying ‘thanks’ sounds like I’m going to start high fiving you for finishing me off and that’s just weird.” Gen laughed, the tips of her ears turning hot with her stupidity. “What I meant to say was that I really appreciate you being here. Not for the sex or whatever, just in general. Right about now, you’re sort of the only person that makes sense in my life.”

Gen fell silent, looking down to her fingers intertwined with Landon’s. She really hated saying that shit, being all open and vulnerable emotionally. Yet, Gen felt like she had to. Not because Landon was pressuring her or because she felt bad about something. Thanking him, telling him how much she appreciated him, it just felt right.

“I don’t know how much you’ve heard but…” Gen paused as her mouth went dry. She wanted to tell Landon, she needed to tell him. “Liv and I… I think it’s really over this time. She got into some trouble and I had to get her out. Told her I couldn’t keep rescuing her, couldn’t keep being the one getting hurt and feeling guilty for wanting to hurt her back. So we’re done. There wasn’t really anything to be done from, exactly, because of the whole Italy thing but to vocalize it… It just sort of makes it final, you know?”

Gen released Landon’s hand as she stood up, grabbing her pants and hopping her way into them. She wasn’t going to talk about Mike, there wasn’t any reason. Liv had been the major player in Gen’s stress, not some stupid little hookup that was just one mistake after another for Gen.

“Anyways, I figured that you’d find out sooner or later so why not hear it straight from the source herself? No gossip required.” Gen picked up her shirt and held it in her hands, fingers fiddling with the long ties at the bottom of the shirt. “Look, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t really have anyone else. I mean Eves has got Nate and my siblings have their own lives and I just don’t want to ruin that. So when shit hits the fan, I don’t really have anyone to turn to. But you, you’re always here for me. We don’t fight, we don’t argue, we don’t judge. We just are, sort of perfectly imperfect. It means a lot to me that I have someone like you by my side.”

Gen’s eyes fluttered shut as she focused on her breathing. Talking about her emotions was one thing but talking about the way she feels about someone so close to her was a new, very unique layer of hell. Gen hadn’t spoken like that to anyone but Liv, no one had ever been important enough or had cared enough about Gen to hear the side of her that was forcing the vulnerability out. Evie had gotten close but Evie wasn’t someone Gen had feelings for, wasn’t someone that Gen realistically saw herself being with.

“You know, I guess I knew things were over with Liv long before they were. You can tell when a relationship is at its end, when there isn’t anything left that you can do to fix it. I care about Liv and I always will but what we have…” Gen swallowed hard, hands closing into fists around the shirt in her grasp. “What we had is over, I can feel that now.”

Her eyes reopened and she looked at Landon, her gaze scanning his face as if reading a book. What was he thinking about everything she was saying? Did she sound like a complete fool? Had she crossed the unspoken line drawn in the sand of their friendship?

“But what about this? Where does this end? Hookups are one thing; you just do the deed and move on with your life. But this? Us? I can’t help but feel like maybe this, what we’re doing right now, maybe this isn’t where we’re going to end.” Gen admitted, her stomach knotting itself up with the worry of her words. “I’m not going to lie and tell you that I only think of you as a friend, you know better than that. And I know there are reasons we can’t… you know. But I care about you, I care about you a lot. This past week has made me think about all the people in my life that are going to leave and if I’m being honest, I can’t stomach the thought of losing you.”

Gen took another deep breath, bringing her arms up around Landon’s neck. Looking up into his eyes, Gen held her gaze. What was he thinking?

“I thought I told you to stop me if I sounded like an idiot.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[jasmyn]

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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

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  soft girl vibes

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  somewhere in the school
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  jared ( Kitsune2202 )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Kennedy Parks

the sweetheart ~ 17 ~ Senior

Jared Darrington officially dating Kennedy Parks.

It was all over the small-time news outlets and her managers couldn't have been happier. To them, it was free press and at that, it was good press. It meant more people would be googling her. People who wanted to know who the mystery girl on Jared Darrington's arm was. People who wanted to see if her music was any good. Even people who were just curious to see if she and Jared had been spotted anywhere else.

It was all so...overwhelming already. Kennedy wasn't used to all the attention which was maybe odd since she was a singer but she was far from a superstar. She'd performed a few times for smaller crowds and she had a YouTube which had gained a good following but it was nothing compared to what her label predicted this would do which felt almost wrong since it was like she was lying to her fans. No, not like...she was definitely lying to them.

Still, Ken had already vowed to herself that she wouldn't focus on that. It would only disrupt the illusion she'd agreed to uphold and make it harder for the both of them. Instead, she was going to have fun and just make the most of their situation. It wasn't like he was all that bad despite Mags saying otherwise. He'd actually been kind of...nice. In fact, he had been the one to suggest they hang out together at this lock-in. While that could've been for the image, she chose to believe he actually wanted to take the time to get to know her.

With her bag resting comfortably on her shoulder Ken turned to face him, pondering his question for a moment. What could they do? Honestly, she was starving so it was hard to think straight. Oh! Maybe they could find some food in the kitchen part of the cafeteria! If no one else had the same idea anyway... There were a lot of people so she wouldn't be surprised if someone else had already raided the snack stash. Was there a snack stash? If so it probably wasn't in such an obvious spot.

"Wanna see if we can find where they store the vending machine snacks? I bet they put that stuff in the teacher's lounge. Come on!" she motioned, grabbing his hand and leading him down the hallway. She came to a halt just as they reached the door of the teacher's lounge and glanced around once before pushing it open. It was surprisingly unlocked which she soon realized was because someone else had beaten them to it.

Ken dropped her bag on the floor and sighed when she noticed a few candy wrappers on the ground. "Guess we weren't the only smart ones," she held one up with a laugh.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Winona]

Ashton West
"I heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in the world."

@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
fine ♥

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Nickie

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

TW: suicidal thoughts, puking if that triggers you, just in general no good, and the song's kind of dark, too, so

If Callum's words had been the sharpened knives that sliced into her skin, then Nickie's words were the salt that ripped apart the flesh and made her want to scream. Bang her head against a wall. Kick a table. Be. Done.

She was done.

The specifics of what Nickie was yelling at her were lost to her at this point. It wasn't like any of it was new. It wasn't like she hadn't heard half of these things spat into her face nearly every day of her life.

None of this was new.

“You’re such a bitch!”

Congrats, did she want a fucking gold star for making a discovery that Ash had known about since she was, what, six? Congratulations! Nickie had figured out the fucking obvious.

It still hurt to hear.

She flinched. Her eyebrows drawing together, her eyes squeezing shut, her head turning to the side so her hair fell down and shielded her more or less from Nickie's view. As if that would somehow lessen the blow. Muffle the sound of her harsh words that cut into Ash's skin just as deeply as any knife, just as deeply as Callum's words had, and fuck, fuck, fuck, why was she such an utter fuck up?

Hunter was going to be pissed at her now, too.

She could fucking feel it.

Check Hunter off the list. Mark him down. Who had ten bucks on her managing to fuck it up after less than two years?

“Callum was fucking right,” she said.

Hadn't Nickie been the one that was like... that didn't...

God Ash was fucking confused.

But she knew it. She knew everything that Callum had said was true, because it was. She'd put her own unwelcome confusing feelings of like... Trevor over anything to do with Callum. Congrats, yet again, Ashton West had managed to put some random boy before all of her friends' feelings. She let herself get so wrapped up in whatever that she couldn't pull her head out of the clouds long enough to be there for everyone around her.

Fucking hell--

It was times like these where she wondered what it would be like if all of the oxygen was snatched from her lungs.

What it would feel like to fall backwards off a bridge.

Intrusive thoughts that didn't belong in her head.

“You want to tell yourself that? You want to say that he’s right? I’ll say it loud for you— I’ll tell you it myself. Yeah, he’s fucking right— he’s fucking right, Ash.”

She knew this, she knew this, she knew this.

Fucking fuck fuck fuck.

“You call me selfish? You’re the fucking selfish one. You’re disgusting— fucking disgusting. You’re more than a shitty person— you’re more than a whore. You are goddamn scum.”

Ash couldn't breathe. She couldn't fucking breathe. Someone had done just like she'd asked and begged, and the oxygen had been squeezed from her lungs, and now maybe it wouldn't return. Any minute, she'd fall to the ground, gasping for breath that would never come.

“You’re so fucking gross. Go cry— see if anyone fucking cares.”

Her breath was a shuddering gasp, like daggers slicing into her lungs.

Everything hurt.

“If they knew who you were, you’d be just like me— fucking standing alone, fucking crying alone, fucking puking your guts out on the fucking floor and falling down and wallowing in that shit because you can’t do any fucking better for yourself, because you’re a shitty attention whore who has no loyalty, who doesn’t give a fuck as long as it gives her fucking attention, and that’s all you are, and that is all you will ever be, Ash.”

She was quiet for a long moment.

She contemplated lifting her head, speaking to Nickie, saying something, but she...

Couldn't.

Ash couldn't do that.

If she opened her mouth, she'd start puking. She could feel the acid scratching at the back of her throat, so she just shook her head. She just shook her head, but her head hurt, and that just caused her to hurt more, and, and, and--

With arms tightly wrapped around her body, her fingernails digging through the cloth of her sweater to dig into her flesh, she turned and started down the hallway. Trying to put as much distance between herself and Nickie and Callum and everyone else.

She couldn't handle more.

She couldn't.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, everything Callum had said was really true, wasn't it?

Ash had like... Ash had just... she'd had someone literally try to comfort her, and she'd basically spit in her face, and then Nickie had just said the exact same thing that Callum had but added extra insults to the wound. To the whole thing. To the whole... the whole... fuck her, she was a fucking bitch. Like, that was a total bitch move, wasn't it? She should've just accepted the help if she didn't want it. And like, not even a cool bad ass bitch move like Gen or Evie or JJ. No, no, this was like a dumb, whiny bitch move. Like spoiled bratty rich kid whiny bitch move, like the kind of bitch that didn't deserve to be whiny or even fucking live or anything of the sort, and like, like, like...

Fuck, fuck, fuck. She needed to just suck it up.

And she would. She would suck it up, and like...

God she didn't know.

Luckily, (if anything about tonight's events could be considered lucky) Ash had dropped her bag just down the hallway when she'd caught sight of Hunter. Like, she'd planned on going back to grab it and find somewhere to put it later, but now? Now she was glad that she had just discarded it against a wall as lazily as she had, because wherever she would've found to drop her bag would've undoubtedly been packed with people. Kind of came with the territory of being like... social, with half a million friends.

Without skipping a beat, she grabbed the strap of her backpack and picked it up as she walked past. Ash fumbled with it for a moment, which nearly brought back on the onslaught of tears, as she struggled to get the strap over her shoulder. Angrily, she rubbed a sleeve at her eyes to dry the tears that were blurring her vision, and finally managed to get the backpack slung over one shoulder.

Her pace quickened and now, she didn't slow down. She didn't let anyone stop her, which was like... easy... when no one wanted to. Ash kept her head down, her shaky breaths matching the slight tremble of her fingers that closed tightly around her backpack strap, holding on like it was some kind of lifeline.

Fuck... fuck, fuck, fuck...

Ash had really never thought that she'd add Callum to the array of people that thought of her as a shitty person, but here she now was. It shouldn't've come as a surprise and, honestly, it didn't. Everyone turned on her eventually -- it was like... it was only a matter of time until one could no longer stand her, and just snapped. And then she'd fade away into the background, try apologizing when the heat died down, but like... Ash's apologies were like her.

Weak. Useless. Better tossed aside and not acknowledged.

Better left washed up in a ditch somewhere.

Eventually, she had gotten far enough away from the main part of the lock-in that her encounters with others grew sparser and sparser until there were basically none. It was here, deep within the school, that Ash started trying door knobs. Peeking her head into classrooms, scanning quickly for anyone or any backpacks, and then moving on until finally, in one of the science classrooms, she was greeted with a typically unwelcome site.

Nothing. No people, no items indicating anyone had been there that night.

Typically, Ash hated being alone. Like it was right up there as one of her main fears, and even now, the fear of it was contributing to making her heart thrum a little harder. But the overwhelming need to go, go, go and knowing that she'd just snap at or be like... an annoying whiny bitch to anyone that might stumble across her, well... that smothered the fear.

Or at least rendered it mostly unconscious.

Mostly.

She slammed the door closed and leaned her shoulder heavily against it. Now that she'd stopped moving, the lid that had been kept tightly over her... her... feelings or whatever it was popped off, and tears started falling down her face more freely.

Fucking hell she was a crybaby.

Couldn't handle a couple people telling her the fucking truth, and now she was crying in a science classroom. Fucking... ridiculous.

She was ridiculous.

And it wasn't like it was anything new.

Like, Callum and Nickie's words had just been fucking rehashes of shit that had already been tossed at her. By her mom, by Jace, fuck, even Dorian had called her a bitch over messages, out of nowhere...

It was no surprise.

It was nothing new.

So why the fuck did it hurt?

Her stomach lurched, and Ash pushed away from the door. She stumbled towards the nearest table and leaned heavily against it. Her elbows rested on the top of the tall table, and she pressed her face into her hands that were swallowed by the sleeves of her shirt. Her eyes squeezed shut, and finally, she let out a scream that was muffled by her hands and the sleeves of her shirt.

Or, like, as muffled as she could manage.

Her hands dropped away from her face after a moment, her arms laying limply against the table, her eyes stared forward at the table, but her blurry gaze wasn't really focused on anything in particular.

She straightened up, and Ash finally started to move again. Numb fingers closed around the strap of her backpack once again, and she clumsily dropped it from her shoulder and tossed it up on the table so she could access the bottle of vodka that she had wrapped in a blanket. Unfortunately, thanks to the mixture of the darkness pervading the room and her own blurry-eyed blindness, she didn't notice the beaker that was resting on the table. Her backpack smacked into it, and it fell over, rolling across the table before crashing to the ground as it broke into a million tiny pieces.

"Fuck," she hissed. Her stomach lurched again, and she pressed a hand over it before she dropped heavily to the floor on her knees. Her sleeve brushed against her eyes to clear the tears away, but new tears sort of just readily filled the space as soon as the old ones were gone. So, with blurry eyes, she she started picking up the pieces of fractured glass that she could manage to see.

For a moment, as her fingers closed around the pieces of glass, she considered grabbing another one of the dumb beakers and throwing it at a wall or something. Like, how many people had she seen over the years do that when they were angry? And then she'd be like she was now -- crouched on the ground, tears blurring her vision, as she picked up the broken pieces. It always seemed therapeutic for them, so like... maybe it was.

Any thoughts of that fled from her mind when one of the pieces jabbed into her finger. She hissed in pain, the gathered glass dropping from her hand to the floor. Ash brought her trembling hand closer to her face, and she saw the tiniest drops of blood starting to well up. She shook her sleeve down over her hand and pressed her fingers against the cloth to try and staunch the flow of blood.

Fuck it. She'd clean it up later.

She rose unsteadily to her feet, and went back to her previous task. Unzipping the backpack, she rummaged around inside until her fingers closed around the all too familiar bottle. Shaky fingers unscrewed the top of the bottle, and she brought it to her lips, taking a sip of the burning clear liquid.

Ash coughed as she brought the bottle away from her lips, and she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth as her stomach threw a fit in response to the vodka. She pressed her lips tightly together, her eyes squeezing shut.

Her stomach lurched again, and then her eyes shot open and she was rushing towards a corner of the classroom. She dropped to her knees, placing the bottle of vodka next to her, and then Ash found herself doubled over a trash can, retching up the empty contents of her stomach.

Eventually, the retching subsided and she was able to sit back. Her hands were shaking and her body ached as she leaned back against the cool wall. She drew her legs up towards her chest, her eyes falling shut for a moment as she tried to clear the pounding headache that was demanding attention.

After a moment, her eyes opened back up, and she stared at the bottle of vodka. Empty eyes met the glass bottle of salvation, and she leaned forward. Her icy fingers closed around the cold neck of the bottle and she leaned back against the wall. Her teeth bit into her sore bottom lip, the taste of blood filling her mouth again as she irritated the injury on her lip once again.

Ash just wanted to stop feeling. Her fingers were already numb.

So she brought the bottle back to her lips, and this time, she managed to keep the poisonous liquid down.

And that's where she remained. Next to the trash can, back against the wall, blurry eyes focused on the broken glass just a few feet away from her, and the bottle of vodka nestled on her lap with her arms wrapped tightly around it when she wasn't sipping it. Like a little kid holding tightly onto a teddy bear.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

. trevor callaghan .

mood: : )

outfit: casual wear

location: the stairs

mentions: n/a

interactions: charlie

tags: geminiy

TREVOR CALLAGHAN HATED…well, a lot of things. It was…kind of difficult to find something that he didn’t hate.

But one of the things that he hated the most was showing emotion.

He thought too much. A lot of his problems boiled down to thinking too much and trying to close everything off.

But showing emotion…didn’t allow him to. Letting everything loose…let everything loose, and he couldn’t control it.

So yeah, now he was fecking sobbing in front of his best friend of three years.

Great going.

Charlie’s arms wrapped around him in a hug, and Trevor tensed up.

Sudden physical contact made him uneasy, usually, and his first instinct was to pull back.

“Fuck Trev, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” she said into his chest. “This whole thing was just so stupid and it went too far and no matter what you say, part of that was my fault. This past week has been absolute hell without you. People can say all the shit they want about you being a shitty person or being a bad friend or whatever but none of it is true. We all make mistakes, we all fuck up, but what good are friends for if we can’t fuck up together?”

“It’s…” He smiled slowly. “It’s good, Charlie.” Cautiously, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around her, too, returning the hug. “It’s been a time for all of us.” He sniffled deeply. “It’s…it’s good.”

For a moment, they hugged in silence, and Trevor tried to shove back his tears. Fuck, it was embarrassing. He…didn’t think that he’d ever cried in front of Charlie before. He could feel his cheeks reddening as he grew more aware of it. “Gahck, sorry,” he muttered with a soft laugh. “I could really spare you the waterworks, huh?”

Charlie dropped her arms from Trevor, and he did the same from her, taking a step back and sniffling, wiping his puffy eyes. He breathed in through the nose— as best as he could— and he did the hoo-hoo-hoo-hooo out through the mouth thing, trying to stop his crying.

She looked up at him and wiped a few tears from his face, and then reached up to muss his hair. His face soured in mock-grumpiness as he swatted at her hands lightly. “Hey,” he huffed, glaring at her.

Christ, she acted like his grandmother sometimes.

He appreciated it, though.

He really did.

“Never again,” Charlie said. Her voice was soft, and a smile played at her lips. “I promise that I will do everything in my power to never let this happen again. I don’t want to be here if you’re not by my side, Trev. You’re like my home away from home. Shit will happen, that much I can guarantee, but I’m never going to take it out on you again. This? The fighting, the putting ourselves down because we fucked up, the avoiding each other? Never again. I promise. I want… No, I need my best friend back.”

Throughout her speaking, his feigned grumpiness subsided and a smile spread across his face, and he gave a soft chuckle as she finished. “Well, you’ve got me. Little do you know, I’d be around even if you didn’t want me,” he kidded lightly. “I’m always there, lurking around the cor—…that makes me sound like a— never mind.” He laughed, rubbing his neck in slightly self-consciousness. He gave another soft laugh, then dropped his hand, smiling. “I’ll do my best, too. This…” He gestured into the air, but he couldn’t bring himself to repeat what “this” was. “Yeah, no,” he laughed quietly and apologetically. “You’re my best friend, and I can’t take even a second more of that kinda fightin’.” He smiled at her. “Let’s keep our arguments limited to who’s goin’ ta use tha shower first,” he teased.

Thunder clapped overhead, and Trevor ducked, muttering a “shite!”, before looking at Charlie to state the obvious in a slightly panicked voice: “It’s raining.”

“Shit, come on!” Charlie giggled, looping her arm around Trevor’s and tugging him towards the door.

Trevor let out an “augh!” of surprise. “Gentle, gentle!” he hissed, but he was smiling as he let her pull him toward the door.

The rain was pouring down on roof in torrents, and Trevor put his free hand on top of his hair as Charlie dragged him behind her like a ragdoll. She grabbed her guitar case and tried to push through the door, but it didn’t move. 

“Feck’s sake,” Trevor muttered.”

“I swear if someone fucking loc—“

Trevor trucked his lips in as the rain drummed on his head and his hand. An image of them huddled up like 1930s hobos on the corner of the roof as a storm raged about them flashed in his head.

Pleaseunlockpleaseunlockpleaseunlockpleaseunlock, he begged internally.

Suddenly, the door popped open, and she pulled him inside. “Pull, not push,” she said.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and the door shut behind them.

Much of Trevor’s hair had flattened out from all of the rain, and some was stuck to his forehead. His head was dripping wet from just that short time outside, somehow, and he looked like a wet cat. He dropped his hand from on top of his head to reveal that there was a spot of unwetted hair just beneath it.

At least he’d somewhat succeeded in his goal of staying dry.

“Man, the storm just had to go all Nicholas Sparks on us,” she laughed as she strained the water from the tips of her hair.

“So cliche,” he agreed, rolling his eyes with a laugh. He shook his head as if to get the water off by the means that a dog would, and then he looked to Charlie, who had her eyes fixed on a spot down the stairwell.

“Trev, is that a used condom or am I tripping?” Charlie asked, and Trevor followed her gaze. His lip curled in disgust at the sight of— yep— a used condom in the stairwell. “Someone was seriously up in here getting laid while we were having a serious discussion. They probably bounced when they heard me struggling with the door.”

“You’re not trippin’,” he said with a disgusted laugh. “I—“

“GET A ROOM NEXT TIME, STAIRWAY FUCKERS!” Charlie yelled.

Trevor clasped his hands over his ears, grimacing at the absolute volume she was able to get. He laughed as a door somewhere downstairs slammed.

“You soiled their time, Charlie— look what ya did,” he scolded teasingly with a laugh, dropping his arms to his hips. “Now you owe ‘em one.”

He noticed Charlie’s smile fade for a second, and Trevor’s own face grew serious again. Was she going to…

“Are we…are we good?” she asked. “Because I really missed you man.”

Okay, good. She didn’t yell or take back her forgiveness.

Trevor let out a soft chuckle of relief, and his face broke into one of his very rare, genuine smiles. “Yeah,” he said, and he nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.” He reached out and ruffled Charlie’s hair gently, as she’d done to him. “And I missed you more because I’m older and taller, and that’s how it works mathematically. I know— I’m the math expert, so.”

He started to descend the stairs, one hand hovering over the railing but not quite touching it while the other rubbed the mostly-unsmoked joint that rested dejectedly in his pocket. Don’t worry, he comforted it. I’ll smoke you soon enough.

He looked back at Charlie, smile still on his face. “Now, what do you say we…”

He trailed off, realizing that he had no idea what he was to do besides…well, at the past lock-ins, he just sat on the bathroom counter for most of the time and smoked whoever came to join him’s joints. It was a nice tactic of freeloading— you would be surprised at how many stoners there were that came into the bathrooms at twelve AM. He simply made them pay a toll, and they could occupy the space with him. Either him asking to share worked, or he got told to fuck off and he shut up and smoked some of his own stash. It was a pretty good plan.

“Uh…actually...,” he chuckled, “what do you say we do with ourselves?” Unless you wanna turn over a new leaf, so to speak. “Or do you have people to be and places to meet?” he asked. “If you don’t wanna hang around me, I seriously I won’t be offended.”

I’ll just go smoke alone in the bathroom. No harm done.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

. kellian phelan .

mood: wooooooow!

outfit: cute fit (courtesy of ronnie!)

location: the gym

mentions: ronnie

interactions: bella & naomi

tags: geminiy Kitsune2202

KELLI'S SMILE BRIGHTENED as Bella returned her hug. She gave her a gentle squeeze before pulling back with a smile. “Bon appetite!” she greeted in return, and then she realized— “Wrong French word, whoops. Bonjour!” she giggled.

At Bella’s compliment, she felt herself blush lightly. “Thank you!” she piped. “You look gorgeous, too, Bella! That top is to die for! You totally rock it!” She paused a second, and then nodded, answering Bella’s question. “Yeah, Ronnie and I got ready together! I couldn’t’ve done it without all of her advice. I would’ve picked, I dunno…polka dots and stripes!” She laughed. “Ronnie really does have great fashion sense— she’s freaking Edna Mode compared to me!”

She stopped speaking for a second, and she held out her hands from herself, gasping with a sudden idea. “Hey, wait— you should come across the hall and get ready with us sometime!” Kelli suggested. “Your style is--” She held up a pinched hand to puckered lips, kissed them with a “mwah!”, and flayed her fingers out in a chef’s kiss. “Impeccable! You being there would just make everything better. The three of us could be the…uhhh…” Her eyes searched around for any kind of ideas, and then she looked at Bella with a smile. “Sophomore Fashion Squad or something.” She let it settle for a second, and then she laughed. She was never really good with words. “I dunno.” She shrugged. “I’m, uh, I’m not good with naming things. Uhhh…Sweet Soft Sophy Sisters…?” She shook her head and stuck her tongue out at that one. “Blegh.” She laughed again. “That’s also bad.”

She smiled again, giggling. “Hey, wait, you’re a writer! You could probably come up with a better name than I can— if you wanna join us, that is. We can get ready together in the mornings and for events and stuff. I think it’d be fun!” Her smile brightened. “Up to you, though,” she was sure to add. She didn’t want Bella to think that she was pressuring her into it.

Kelli froze when Bella reached into her pockets and held out a small box.

Whaaaaaat was this?

“I actually bought you something, a thank you gift for helping me move in,” Bella said softly.

Kelli cautiously reached out and took it.

“It is a charm bracelet, I hope it fits,” Bella continued. “I saw you admiring mine when we were unpacking so I got you one, fresh import from Paris. It is the least I could get you for all of your help, miss Kelli.”

Kelli’s mouth gaped, and she stared in stunned, flattered, honored silence for a moment. Her eyes read awe and wonder, and she looked up at Bella with a gasp. “Oh my gosh!” she said finally. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” She opened her arms for another hug. “Thank you so, so, so much, Bella!”

She moved back from her, opening the box slowly and gently, and she pulled out the charm bracelet. She gawked at it for a moment, and then she closed the box, put the box in her pocket, and took a few seconds to latch it on her wrist. She gave it a shake, admiring the clinking of the metal, and then she looked at Bella, a wide, exuberant, happy smile on her face.

“Thank you so much!” she piped again, reaching an arm out to give her a one-armed hug while holding her other arm out to admire the bracelet. “It’s beautiful!” she gasped, and she smiled at Bella once more. “That’s the sweetest gift I’ve ever gotten— thank you!”

“Hey!” a voice called from behind them, and Kelli stepped back from Bella to look at the girl who the voice belonged to. She looked familiar, kinda, but she couldn’t place it. She felt like she’d seen her online at some point or something, but she couldn’t be sure exactly where. “Your name Isabella by chance?” The girl was holding a journal.

“My journal!” Bella exclaimed, walking over to meet the girl as she gently took the book from her hands. “I did not even realize I dropped it. Thank you so much, chérie, this book is very important to—…oh mon Dieu.” Bella cleared her throat. “You are Naomi Elizondo.”

Kelli blinked. Whaaaat?

“Your writing, it is incredible,” Bella continued. “Your poetry and stories have influenced my writing so much over the years. I did not know you came to this school.” She paused for a second. “Um, my apologies. This is a rather strange interaction to have, you are a student like everyone else here. I just… wow. I never thought that I would meet someone who had such a heavy impact on my life. I would thank you but that seems strange since we are now peers.”

Kelli spoke up. “Wait, Naomi Elizondo?” She took a step forward and towards the girl, cocking her head at her. “As in…theeee Naomi Elizondo?” Her look of confusion broke into one of excitement and awe, and a bright smile spread across her face. “No way!” she said. “Dude, that’s dope! I’m super obsessed with your—!” She cut herself off, unable to catch her words.

It was Naomi Elizondo— in the flesh!

“Woaaaaah…this is so dope!” Kelli gasped in disbelief. “I didn’t know you went— wow!” She shook her head. “Like, like…the songs you write are so— your words—“ She couldn’t find her own words, so she opted to put a fist to either side of her head and make a “booooom!” sound, wiggling her fingers to mimic an explosion.

She held out one of her hands excitedly. “Kelli. Phelan. Kelli Phelan,” she said, smiling brightly. “That’s me! It’s so dope to meet you in person. Theee Naomi Elizondo— wow!”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[0k_mang0]

OUTFIT:
Jacket (sleeves pushed up to elbows) & shirt link
sweatpants & shoes link
​

INFO

LOCATION:
HA school

WITH:
Nathan Woods

MENTION:
Evie, Gen, Landon​

ACTIVITY

Winona

TAGS

cappie

“...she's different from the other girls I've tried dating, you know?"

Eh, not really. Cappie didn’t know what that’s like, that feeling of having something new in his dating life. He had a couple of one-night stands, but never a serious relationship. He could try to imagine what Nate was talking about. After all, Cap was an actor, and the look on Nate’s face helped give a clear idea, even if he didn’t entirely know Nate’s dating history. Heck, he was probably the only one who hadn’t noticed anything going on between him and Evie before they officially started dating.

“Aww, look at you, in your honeymoon phase,” Cap said teasingly, giving Nate’s shoulder a few playful soft punches. “But seriously, though, I’m happy for you, man. Evie’s a really awesome person.”

Cappie wasn’t close to Evelyn Sinclaire like Gen was, but since he was close friends with Gen, he still considered her a friend. He thought she was cool and fashionable (she’s in the Plastics department, duh), and as far as he remembers, she hadn’t treated him like trash since knowing her at school. That was basically how friendship worked for Cappie—don’t treat him like trash, and you’re automatically his friend.

Nathan brought up his filming trip, and Cappie confirmed his question with a nod. “Yeah, in Toronto, Canada, and Japan. My body thinks it’s still back in Tokyo, thanks to jet lag.” When he sat next to Nate, he took out a bag of granola trail mix from his backpack. What? He wanted to keep his hands busy somehow. While eating a few granola clustered pieces of his own, Cap held out the trail mix bag to Nate and offered to share it, if he was alright with chatting and snacking at the same time with him.

“I heard Landon filmed something recently, too. Has he, like, said anything to you since you and Evie became official?”

Landon Sinclaire, one of Cappie’s classmates in the drama department, and a common friend of Cappie and Nate... wait, were they still friends? Cappie was sure that they knew each other even before Nate started dating Landon’s sister. Although... he had noticed they were kind of distant from each other this year.

It was just a simple, harmless question. Nate wouldn’t mind too much to answer, right?

code by valen t.

 

[Winona]

Damien Slater
"When you see my face, hope it gives you hell."

@SluttierThanThou has set their status to:
hey there: take two

@SluttierThanThou has interacted with:
Felix, JJ

@SluttierThanThou has mentioned:
N/A

@SluttierThanThou has tagged:
ohdittoh Soap ​

What in the actual fuck?

If Slater wasn't such a composed individual, he could promise you that his jaw would've fucking dropped right then and there when instead of even acknowledging him, this fucking bitch only acknowledged his friend. And it wasn't like Felix was even a cool friend! Felix was the biggest fucking loser that Slater knew (although he'd never say that aloud to save his friend's poor, obviously fractured ego), and here she was. Talking to him. Holy fucking fuck.

Well, Slater could act surprised, but from what he'd gathered while being on the ol' social media, she had a boyfriend. And her boyfriend was also a fucking loser, so clearly, this super hot girl who could probably have anyone that she wanted was one of those bitches that settled. Settled for people far, far below her instead of going for a real man -- oh, and who were those real men you ask? Well Damien Slater was a good example, obviously.

Real men wished they could be half as cool as him.

Plus he already knew that JJ clearly enjoyed the attention that he gave her. Why else would she show up to talk about his dick and his sex life every chance she got? Clearly, she was getting tired of the little boy that she called a fucking boyfriend. And as soon as she got sick enough of him to break up with him, he'd be right there with arms wide open to comfort her. Yeah, Slater was great like that.

All of this self-reflection obviously happened while Felix and JJ were talking about his upcoming movie, which to Slater, just sounded fucking stupid. Our Deepest Sympathy. What in the name of Hallmark chick flick had his buddy gotten himself into? Where were the cool movies? You know, the ones with the robots and the pew pew guns and shit. Yeah see, Felix needed to be a cool action man.

And with Slater's tutelage, he would be.

“Slatemate and I’re just tryin’ to occupy ourselves. Nothin’ much really seems to be happenin' here yet.” Felix said, which drew him out of his reverie, especially as he sent an elbow into Slater's side. “My bud suggested we come talk to you… Ya know, to network or what have you. He’s still new here, and I just generally haven’t spoken too much, and you seemed like a welcomin' enough person to speak to.”

Huh?

Oh, yeah.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Slater started, nodding his head in agreement with what Felix had said. "Especially 'cause like... you see, I do animation," he typed his fingers in the air, mimicking a computer, "like on the computer," as if that wasn't fucking obvious, "and I've actually got this project coming up where I gotta animate some dance shit, ya know?" Only half a lie... okay, total lie. "And the way you kinda do it is record the dancer," he gestured with a hand towards JJ, "and then animate the movements and shit from that. It's a whole fucking process, but Felix here mentioned you were in dance when I was telling him all about this project."

What.

The.

Fuck.

Was Slater doing?

Slater didn't even know what Slater was fucking doing. He'd come here to try and charm this girl, but now he'd just strung a lie -- half a lie, because that was how you animated dances and shit, thank you very much -- and talking about his nerdy animating shit wasn't going to get him anywhere closer to taking a girl home. Granted, he hadn't expected to take her home (boyfriend and all), but you know...

"So we're actually here 'cause I was wondering if you knew any good dancers that would be interested. Felix is helping out with it, too. He's doing some of the voices. Right, Felix?" He asked, grinning over at his friend.

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[Winona]

Nathan Woods
"Here I am, living a dream that I can't hold on my own."

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If Nate was an easily embarrassed type of fella, he'd probably have started blushing at Cappie joking about it being the honeymoon phase. Instead of blushing, he just gave a small chuckle followed by a shake of his head.

The dude wasn't wrong, though. This was the... this was the high part of the relationship. The beginning was always the best part, when all of your partner's quirks were cute, when you couldn't get enough of them. This was the part that Nate was good at, that Nate excelled it. But it was when things got real, when those quirks went from cute to grating on your last nerve, when you started to want space, when it turned from I like you to the dreaded l-word.

That's where Nate would start to falter. Where he would take sledgehammer to their steady foundation, and he'd cause to crack. Break. Crumble underneath their feet until there was nothing left to their relationship.

Nate was also good at that part. The fucking it up part. He'd begrudgingly admit that he may have slight commitment issues, since he tended to do the same whenever he'd get a close friend. It was the going from keeping someone at an arm's length away to having them starting to know the darkest parts of you that really threw him for a loop. Nate didn't want to share shit. Nate didn't want people around that knew him.

Hence why his little living arrangement with Saint worked out so well. The guy didn't pry.

"Tokyo, huh?" He echoed. "Damn that sounds cool. Traveling the world. I should give up on the whole painting thing. Become an actor." He flashed Cappie a grin before reaching into the bag and grabbing out a handful of trail mix. "I'm acting in some lit kid's film for Arts Festival. Basically halfway there, yeah?" He chuckled at his own joke. As if he'd ever gain any recognition from that -- and that's why he'd agreed to it.

He'd help out a friend, but no one would recognize his face from it.

His smile faltered and the general easygoing mood that Nate had kind of faded at mention of Landon. His lips downturned into a bit of a frown as he tossed some of the granola into his mouth. For a moment, he just chewed while he thought.

"Nope," Nate admitted. "We talked a bit over Twitter and shit, but... I don't know. Guess he's kind of pissed that his sister started sleeping with his friend and now, you know..." He shrugged. "It is what it is. He'll get over it or he'll suck it up and learn to deal with it. We're not breaking up anytime soon," his mouth ran dry when he said that because holy fuck, that was commitment right there, "so he'll have to."

"Right?"

Was he asking for a second opinion from Cappie?

... Yeah.

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