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

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Characters
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Elias Johannes
@elithegreat has set their status to:
tippy tappy toes

@elithegreat has set their outfit to:
cool kicks, bro

@elithegreat has set their location to:
the dance studio

@elithegreat has mentioned:
ash, gen, cappie

@elithegreat has interacted with:
Tilly & Cami

@elithegreat has tagged:
natsukashii natsukashii jasmyn jasmyn
"Yeah! I mean, I'm not busy and I don't really have any plans. Maybe we can get a milkshake or something? Honestly, I've been craving an ice cream sundae with all the fixings."

Eli’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, perking right up at the mention of his favourite diner treat. Milkshakes were superior in the world of food, at least in Eli’s opinion, and if Tilly wanted a milkshake then by darn, she was going to get a milkshake.

"I mean, if that's okay with you! I know this pretty awesome ice cream parlor not far from here. It's all organic and so many different flavors of ice cream! I promise you'll love it, Eli! I'll even pay if it helps sway your mind in any way!"

Eli wrapped his arm around Tilly and turned them around so that they were facing the parking lot behind them again. “Tilly, you had me at milkshakes. No convincing needed. And no, you are not going to pay. My treat!”

Walking across the parking lot, Eli stopped in front of his car and clicked the unlock button. Carefully, he opened the door for Tilly and dramatically pointed inside as if he was some sort of fancy chauffeur.

“After you, m’lady.” Eli spoke, bringing back the now-famous British accent. This time, though, he sounded far more like a butler named Jeffery rather than a concerned mother. Yeah, that’s right, Eli is multifaceted, don’t be so surprised. “Oh, and watch your head. It’s sorta a drop.”

» ──────────── ✄

Milkshakes had been a great idea. The parlor was as great as Tilly had described it, a small mom and pop type store nestled in between two larger stores on either side. Easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention but so worth the observation. The interior was lovely, cozy in a modern type of way. And the flavours, oh boy the flavours, there were so many to choose from that it was sort of overwhelming.

Tilly and Eli had their milkshakes and hung out in the shop for a while before heading back to the school. They hung out for most of the lock-in, joking around and enjoying each other’s company. Eli loved people that required no effort to be around and Tilly was quite possibly one of the easiest people in the world to be friends with: she was just easy to be around.

Lock-in ended up being a welcome reprieve from the chaos because as soon as it was over, Eli was back to the grindstone. He very quickly found out about all the drama that happened with Gen and some of the things that had happened with Ash, though she remained plenty quiet on what had happened after Eli had talked to Trevor online. Eli spent a lot of time worrying about his siblings, sans Cappie who seemed perfectly fine in the grand scheme of things. Thank goodness because Eli could not handle another sibling meltdown.

In the small breaks of the drama of the following weeks, Eli took every opportunity to go to the studio. He needed to get all of that worried energy out of his system and Art Fest was rapidly approaching. So, every available minute was spent working on his dances for the upcoming performances. They needed to be perfect.

Monday morning was no different. Eli had arrived at the school bright and early to work on a piece for an upcoming competition, a hip hop ordeal out in San Francisco. Sure, he was going to be exhausted by the time his class dance practice started but there simply weren’t enough hours in the day for Eli to take a break.

The doors to the studio swung open behind him as Eli was finishing off practicing a particularly challenging section of his dance. As the music drew to a close, Eli spun on his heels and grinned at the person who had just answered, chest still heaving with heavy breaths and sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Cami, hey!” He greeted with a nod of his head as he made his way across the room to speakers to stop the music from looping. “How are you on this beautiful morning?”

º º code by ditto º º
 






Dalton Kirby



Nothing said a fucking good weekend like taking out all your frustrations on the two people you hated most and giving them a good throttling.

All said and considered lock in had been decent. A solid 6/10 if only because that incredibly satisfying throttling had come on the heels of his fun getting ruined.

And then that number jumped a little when morning came, and it came out on twitter that Genevieve Johannes had fucked Landon Junior Sinclaire. Obviously, that wasn’t his real middle name, but the boy would always be Junior in his heart.

Anyway, Johannes had fucked Junior and that in turn had fucked up her friendship with Simpclaire and it was just…pfft, amusing.

He had nothing against Simpclaire or Junior and he truly couldn’t care less about whatever the fuck it was Johannes decided to do with her life, but watching people fuck up things that they, and everyone around them, thought they could never fuck up? It put a smile on his face.

Why? It just did, he enjoyed it simply because. That was all there was to it.

So here he was in his seat at the back of the class, barely paying attention to a thing the professor was saying, a hint of a smirk on his face as he recalled how it had all come out on twitter.

Of all the things to get exposed so far this year, this had to be the most entertaining and juicy one, and he couldn’t wait to see the meltdowns that would follow the fallout from this.

Once the signal for dismissal was given, Dalton grabbed his bag and moved to follow the line of people trailing out of the room to their next class when a hand fell on his shoulder.

“Kirby,” he turned around to see his professor standing there with a faint smile on his face, “stay back awhile will you?”

He fought back an eyeroll, quietly following the older woman to the front of the class where she waited until the last of the students had filed out of the class before giving any indication as to what this was about.

“Your results from the last test.” She said stiffly as she held out a piece of paper marred with bright red ink and the familiar black scribbles he recognised as his own handwriting. “I don’t know how you are doing in your other classes Dalton, but your grades are constantly falling in mine and if you want to graduate at the end of the school year then you need to buck up.”

And there went his good mood. He blocked out the rest of her rambling as he took the paper from her, the number scribbled on the right-hand corner informing him that he had failed by a couple of marks.

Okay so he hadn’t passed this test. Whatever, he’d get an overall passing grade at the end of the day and graduate. He wasn’t a fan of chemistry and if you asked him she was an awful teacher. Her style of teaching seemed to be designed for the specific purpose of putting her students to sleep and nothing else.

He was going to graduate this year come hell or high water so the sooner she shut up and dropped the damn topic so he could leave the better.

“…and if I don’t see any improvements in your next test paper, I’m going to put your name down for supplementary lessons understand?”

Hold the fuck up.

Had this woman just–

No fucking way. Like hell that was happening. He was not going to spend his free time after hours alone in a classroom with her. No way.

This bitch did not just give him an ultimatum and then start packing up her stuff to leave. When the hell was the next test anyway? Wasn’t it in two days or shit? Fucking hell! He wasn’t even failing her class yet! He was doing just fine, he was passing! Why was she sticking her meddlesome ass into his business and trying to tell him what the fuck to do? Just leave him alone dammit!

Dalton kept his fist tightly clenched at side and bit down on his lip, pushing the anger he felt rising up in his chest back down, so he didn’t get his record marred with “assaulted his teacher in class”, because the temptation to lash out was real. It was just one fucking problem after another this year.

He forced himself to give a slight bow as the professor moved to leave the classroom, following her out the doors where he stopped and waited until she had disappeared down the hallways before he let go a little.

Fuck! Who the hell did she think he was? Just because she was his professor and had some authority. Over a couple of marks on one fucking test in a subject that didn’t even fucking matter in his career–

The edge of the paper crumpled in his grip as he glared at it, seeing nothing but the red slash marks that covered it.

That fucking bitch!

He slammed the side of his fist into the nearby wall, barely controlling it at the end to lighten the impact, eyes dark with anger and agitation.

He’d graduate and pass that damn test if it killed him. Like hell he was staying in this shit hole any longer than necessary. He certainly wasn’t going to spend extra time with that arrogant witch either or she’d ruin his life by running her mouth and testing his patience.

It was like the universe was determined to get him to explode nowadays.

Dalton turned to leave but the next thing he saw had him stopping right in his tracks and narrowing his eyes again.

Of course, as soon as he thought it, it had to come true. Fucking jinx.

He squared his shoulders, the paper getting crushed even further in his vice grip as he stared down the approaching figure.

“Back for more so soon? I thought you had your fill after what happened at lock in.”





mood
angry

location
outside a classroom

outfit
outfit





playing...
song title here

by artist here​




mentions
Landon, Gen, Evie, Beel

interactions
Slater

tags
Winona Winona


º º code by ditto º º
 






Damien Slater


That's right, ladies and gentlemen, Damien fucking Slater had fucked a weird ass drug addict in a fucking janitor's closet on the night of the lock-in. Yeah, yeah, save your fucking judgment because he didn't give a shit what anyone might have to say about it -- then again, no one knew yet... he was pretty sure.

Slater might've been a self-proclaimed fuck boy. Slater might've gotten lucky a surprisingly large amount of the time given his often brash nature and general lack of... any kind of fucking charm, but he did. Surprise, surprise. However, Slater also wasn't the type of person to go around flexing about who he'd fucked.

Especially not when that happened to be a weird little blonde dude who, half the time during their conversations, Slater just straight up wanted to deck.

But he'd kept his fists to himself and somehow, in some... weird as fuck manner that Slater didn't even quite understand, he was... kind of... seeing the dude? Or, well, so Damien thought. He wasn't sure, but he didn't think hookups where it was just about the sex, you know... stayed over for the night.

Yeah, so one janitor's closet fuck had kind of turned into... more fucks that weren't in janitor's closets, and then Slater had started staying over, and... it was a lot to happen.

He was kind of confused about all of it, not that he'd ever admit that shit aloud.

And what would you know -- the previous night had been one of those nights that Damien had gone over to Beel's house, they'd fucked, and he'd ended up falling asleep in Beel's bed. It was an occurrence that had kind of made him uncomfortable in the beginning and shit, but he was starting to get more used to. You know -- the idea of waking up next to someone, repeatedly, and it was...

It was just all really new.

But he thought he kind of liked it.

He'd been rolled over on his back, mouth probably hanging open because you know... he was trying to fucking sleep, and his alarm hadn't gone off yet, when he felt something in his mouth.

Damien swatted at whatever it fucking was as his eyes shot open and he propped himself up on one of his elbows. He coughed, his mouth suddenly tasting like absolute garbage, and glared over at Beel. "What the fuck?" he snapped.

Long story short, turned out that Beel wanted to see if there were taste buds on his fucking fingers and if Slater's mouth tasted like... fucking cocaine or some shit? Slater kind of fucking spaced out halfway through the explanation, and then he'd climbed out of the bed, his mind spinning.

Remember all that shit he'd just said?

Yeah, well fuck all of it. Fuck. All. Of. It.

"Such a fucking dumbass," Slater snapped as he grabbed his shirt and pulled it on over his head -- except he pulled it on backwards, which kind of just helped piss him off more. While he struggled to turn his shirt around and then start looking for his discarded pants, he kept on bitching. "You're fucking dumb. You're fucking weird. You're just-- you don't fucking stick your fingers in someone's mouth. I could've died or some shit."

Of course he couldn't have died, but alas.

"Fuck you," he snapped as, now clothed in his previous day's attire, he stomped out of Beel's bedroom and started to head to the front door.

Of course, he paused to take a stop into the bathroom, where he squirted some toothpaste into his mouth, scrubbed his teeth with his finger, and then Slater was on his merry way.

----------------------​

He'd driven to school, and Slater had every plan to just try and enjoy his fucking day -- except he knew that he was going to have to go work on his Arts Festival movie with Felix and Beel and he just...

He didn't want to see Beel's dumb fucking face.

Fuck that guy.

Not literally -- Slater didn't want to ever fuck that guy again.

He was still fuming, his thoughts all... fucking tangled up in this hatred of fucking Beel, and he hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking, and what do you know?

He ended up walking right into Dalton.

Fuck him, seriously.

“Back for more so soon? I thought you had your fill after what happened at lock in.”

His bruises and general, well, you know... fucking injuries from Dalton at lock-in had mostly healed up, save for a couple bruises that were still somewhat visible. So getting to see the dude that had left those marks on his skin again? Yeah, not exactly helping his fucking mood.

"Screw you, Kirby," he snapped. "I'm not in the fucking mood for your bullshit today. Find someone else to torture, you fucking... fucking... fucking dick."

Slater wasn't in the mood, and Slater's frustration was so strong that the dude had basically forgotten how to give actual insults.




mood
fuck you, what the fuck, and fuck me

location
Beel's apartment > school

outfit
ah yes, yesterday's clothes





playing...
Sex for Breakfast
by Life Of Dillon​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Dalton, Beel

tags
@mogy Xed Xed


º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD:
Perpetually nervous

OUTFIT:
idk

LOCATION:
Outside the School
basics
MENTIONS:
Chas, Zeph



INT:
Ez geminiy geminiy
tags
TL;DR:
Nope
tl;dr
Auguste

The lock-in had been nice, all things considered. It could’ve gone worse, like that Chas fellow tasering him. Though, he was pretty sure that the Chas guy had been bluffing, he seemed to do that quite a bit after all. He got to talk a bit with his friend Zeph, did a little bit of composing. It was nice. More social than he'd been in weeks.

The arts fest was going to be a cake walk. Okay, maybe not really, because his routine was actually going to be a bit difficult, a style of dance he usually didn’t indulge too much in. But he wasn’t having to compose the music behind it, so it took a lot off of his workload. Put music on the back burner for a bit, and focus on just getting his chops up to speed while not overexerting himself too much with the extra practice he was getting in. Eating healthier. Not lighting up as much - really Slater had been doing him a favor with taking his weed money. Drinking water. But by all accounts, he was pretty happy with how the dance was turning out. Really, he was ahead of schedule which led him to being able to try to help out his fellow classmates that reached out to him. All in all, he was feeling pretty good about himself in that area. He just had to get through the normal teenage bullshit and he’d be golden.

Auguste was bored by school for the most part. Tried staying in his lane, out of the way of everyone else. The teachers usually put him in the back where all the loud people were so as to not obstruct the view of the other students, the desks were too small, he had to duck to not hit his head… The general annoyances of being a giant. And also, English was hard alright? English was his third fucking language and by this point he was just tired of having to learn it. The day usually started off fantastically, but by the middle of second period he just wanted to hear SOMETHING French.

This usually led him to being checked out and reading the textbooks while only half-listening to the teacher. It didn’t matter anyways. He’d probably be studying properly anyways tonight. It was funny how much time in the day one had when one barely had a social life and a general distaste for sleeping.

On extra special spicy nights he facetimed with his friend back in France. Wild, I know.

But for the most part, he genuinely kept his hands to himself, his eyes cast down to the ground, and generally tried to take as unthreatening an appearance as possible. Even tied his hair back so people could properly see his face. Get through his day without attracting attention - or at least, any more attraction than he already did, 6’7 and all that generally tended to draw the eye.

So, his day started normally, morning routine of general cleanliness and existential dread, chain up his bike that he took to school - any little bit of cardio helped for training - walk into the school. Try to quell his uneasiness at being around a vast amount of people by listening to some old fashioned blues, big band jazz. The classics.

Imagine his shock, then, that someone REGARDED HIS PRESENCE. He turned, about to make a hurried apology of imsosorrypleaseleavemealoneididntmeanit. Oh, Ezra. The new guy. He pulled an earbud out of his ear.

Ez was the scary sort. The kind to get into your business. But he was also rather a tall fellow. Auguste felt more comfortable around him than most. If something happened, like Auguste snapping, he felt assured that Ez could at least sit on Auguste to get him to stop thrashing. That made him safe, at least in Auguste’s eyes. Even if he was one of the more physically intimidating people at the school by most people’s standards.

“Oh. Salut.” Auguste said, a grin gracing his scarred lips as he paused Cab Calloway in order to divulge his full attention to his friend. Ez made him smile. He reminded him of the better parts of home, with the flirting and whatnot. Back when he had a semblance of a social life “I apologize for your pain, I didn’t see you there. But I say hello now, at the very least, no?”

He paused, shuffled a little bit to the left, just in case Ez had been serious about him blocking his view. “How’s the film project going?”
code by valen t.
 






MICHAEL K. REID​


Michael Kaiser Reid had decided to put the events that happened at the lock-in behind him as soon as he left that damn room.

Yeah, Mike’d seen his good friend with benefits shirtless on the floor with his bitch of an old best friend. Yeah, something about it had pissed him off, and yeah, Dickface Sinclaire and Mike the Midget’d fought on the floor and Mike’s lip had busted. No, they hadn’t fought because Mike thought oh shit, Sid the Sloth sleep with me woman, me get mad, me go punchy— Mike was classier than that and didn’t have fucking possession issues, seeing as they were friends with benefits and not fucking married or some shit. It was just a lapse in judgement, a heat of the moment thing, and it was all fucking Landon’s fault, so Mike wouldn’t give the boy whose face was built like a child’s painting the satisfaction of seeing him even giving the slightest shit about what’d happened in there.

Of course, he’d accept Evie’s praise for it; it was the least he deserved for doing all that shit.

Anyway, everything was fine and totally fucking grand, and in the end, the whole night was more or less a filler episode, which was fine by him.

But his goddamn face. Why did it have to be his fucking face?

By now, sure, his lip had healed, but did that mean jack shit? No. Fucking Lesser Sinclaire had the balls to bust Michael fucking Reid’s lip.

Emphasis on had the balls, because Mike really fucking hoped that his knee in the crotch’d taken down more than just Dickhead’s ego.

Mike’d give him props if that wasn’t the fucking stupidest mistake Landon’d ever made in his life.

Or…the second stupidest mistake. Heh, the first stupidest was fucking Gen. I mean, for one, had he not learned from other’s experiences? It was always a bad idea to start having sex with Genevieve Johannes. But hey, couldn’t say he didn’t have ample warning, and now, oh shit! There were actual consequences to his actions?! Holy fuck, who would’ve thunk it?! Who could’ve seen that coming, huh?! Wow, people give a shit about what you do?! Yeah, fucking shocker, huh, Landon?

Hope you enjoyed your family disowning you, baby boy. Can’t say you don’t deserve it.

Whatever, though.

Well, hey, Mike guessed that lock-in wasn’t all bad. He’d had a chat with the simp’s simp’s miserable simp, that Bailey girl, which was kind of entertaining just because of how hard the girl was trying to be a hardass. It was cute, y’know. The girl was kinda hot. Could’ve been far worse.

He’d sat with a group of random people who, no, he’d never seen a day in his life, but they had some alcohol that he could steal and he had some of his own that he could drink, too, and he sent off the night getting somewhat tipsy somewhere that wasn’t his bathtub. Fucking lovely, huh?

Anyway, a week and a half had gone by, and Mike had all but forgotten that the lock-in had even ever existed. He was actually fairly content this morning. There was something about only having around two weeks left in your shitty, cardboard-box-of-an apartment that just made you fucking glow.

Bye-bye, greasy incel landlord. Hello, hopefully-surprisingly-hot-in-person middle-aged landlady.

What was that, Ms. Landlady? You’d give him a discount if he’d show you his pecs again. Well, you really drove a haaaard, haaaard bargain.

A really hard one, babe.

Rock fucking hard.

Wink fucking wonk.

Point was, he was totally fucking content.

I mean, it wasn’t like he was one wrong thing away from snapping. Michael? Never. Short-tempered and his name could never be used in the same scenario—

And his voice wasn’t dripping with sarcasm now, either. Totally, absolutely fucking not.

He ran a hand through his black hair, grinning cockily and strolling down the hallway as if he owned the place. In his dark brown eyes were the warning don’t fucking test me.

And, would you look at that? Some bitch decided to test him— some scurrying little bitch who cut him off, muttering beneath his piss-scented breath just loud enough for Mike, who obviously wasn’t supposed to hear it, to be able to hear it, “Stupid Gen and stupid, stupid horny Mike…flipping stupid."

Chuckling beneath his breath, Mike’s brows lowered, and his scope set on it: Jason “The Slowest of the Fastest Sperm” West’s retreating, feeble figure.

Mike could crush him in a fucking millisecond.

His grin spreading wider, Mike began to follow him.

If you’d known Mike for a long while— or at least since sophomore— you might be like, oh shit, I’m getting deja vu. Congratu-fucking-lations, you’d be right. Here was a gold star for you, being all up to date on your Mike Reid trivia.

Yeah, it’d been a solid bit since he’d done shit like this. It wasn’t like he ever thought that he was above it or anything— there was nothing wrong with taking shit out on puny, whiny, disgusting eyesores to society who were better off dead anyway— but he’d just…fallen away from it, felt like he didn’t need to for a bit.

But now, life was fucking shit, and Jason “Should’ve Aborted It” West was fucking easy to do this shit to, from what Mike remembered.

The incontinent, toddler-brained, simpering manchild knew what Mike was capable of.

Mike just hadn’t reminded him in a while.

Jace turned into one of the music rooms, and Mike followed, quietly shutting the door and carefully dropping his bag in front of it— harder to escape that way.

He walked behind Jace— and he gave him a harsh shove.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Piss Kink,” Mike said. “What a fucking pleasure it is to bump into you again. Now, if you will— turn around and repeat what it was you said about me.” He cracked his knuckles in that cheesy, cartoon bully way, just to see him squirm. “Before I make you,” he added, grinning widely.




mood
old habits die hard

location
a random music room

outfit
something casual





playing...
drunk face
by machine gun kelly​




mentions
evie, gen, stella, & landon

interactions
take a fucking guess. he'll give you one word: incontinent. (he was going to say bitch, but there are too many options for that one, aren't there?)

tags
Winona Winona


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:






trevor callaghan​


Ash looked, uh…confused by Trevor’s question, and he smiled awkwardly as if that’d help any.

Awkwardly.

This felt very awkward.

Er, was very awkward.

It, uh...it didn't just, uh, feel that way— it was that way.

“I…yeah, I want you here,” Ash responded, smiling. “I’ll be, like…more comfortable with you here, so…”

He smiled for few seconds more, chuckling a syllabic, forced “ahaha”, and then he realized that she was responding to his question. He blinked rapidly a few times, and then he laughed at his awkward response, and then his smile pulled into an actual, genuine one with far less teeth. “Right,” he said. “Right, right, right.”

Still awkward.

So fucking awkward.

Oh, God.

This just screamed hi, I’ve never had sex before.

He’d had sex before.

Before just now.

Wait, when he said it that way, it wasn’t convincing, he—

He—

Oh, feck’s sake.

He was growing oddly tense, and he let out a long sigh. “Right,” he said again, his smile fading, and then he eyed her, brows knit. “You’re…uh…sure?”

“Promise,” she said, propping herself up and kissing him gently on the lips, which took him aback slightly.

He reached up to touch his lips, and then his smile slowly grew.

“So ummm…goodnight?” she said awkwardly, and then she laughed.

“Goodnight…?” Trevor repeated, starry-eyed and fairly confused, and then he realized— “Oh. Oh, yeah. Goodnight.” And he laughed slightly— and fairly awkwardly. “I’ll, uh…just…”

He slowly moved his arm to rest on Ash’s side, shifting closer to her body. He’d never really, uh…laid in bed with someone who he cared to give any more attention than what it took to get their clothes off, so he didn’t really…

He didn’t know what to do.

Fairly awkward, “I obviously don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ but I’ll act like I do” spooning-ish-type-thing was good enough for him.

“Goodnight,” he said again quietly, “darlin’.”

• • • • •​

Chauffeuring was something that Trevor Callaghan was depressingly used to. Having a license was helpful, yes, and being able to say that he drove was a nice flex of his responsibility.

(Yeah, sure, it was something that his grandparents forced him to get upon arriving in the States, but busting your arse over technicalities just so you could laugh at him showed more about your character than it did about him, didn’t it? Now let him fecking continue.)

Being a chauffeur wasn’t exactly the most pleasant thing for Trevor. No one in their right fecking mind enjoyed city traffic. It was the closest to Hell on Earth that you could get. Trevor was not a rare exception to any rule about hating driving— very rarely did a day go by that he didn’t get a headache just by pulling out on the road.

Today, though, was a rare day, because he was chauffeuring around Ashton West, who just happened to be his girlfriend, who just happened to be the girl he’d actually finally slept with, who just happened to be the girl who was “sooo, ugh, out of your league”, so all the bad drivers and you yourself could just fecking suck it.

The radio station was playing whatever it was that she wanted it to be, a joint was waiting for him in the glovebox in all its tightly-wrapped glory, and today— today— was going to be the only decent day that he’d had all miserable year long.

Or…maybe he was being too optimistic. They were only five or so minutes down the road, and there was a lot of time left for it all to be fecking ruined.

He could think of a lot of things that would ruin today: bad drivers, getting an ankle broken, insufferable pricks whose names started with L and rhymed with Fucky SchmuBois…

But none of those seemed to be around, so today was tentatively okay.

As he drove Rachel down the highway, they talked, and it actually felt comfortable, and it actually was nice, and he was actually enjoying it because he wasn’t the only one talking, which shouldn’t’ve been odd, but…well, it was pretty fecking odd. This wasn’t really how they were before the lock-in— he didn’t feel like he was walking on eggshells when he was just talking, he didn’t feel like taking the wrong step would piss her off, and it didn’t really feel…awkward.

Yeah, fine, he’d admit that it was awkward before— but…well, maybe them having sex did null all of the bumps in the road. Maybe it really did just make everything so much easier.

(Proved his point that they should’ve fucked earlier, in his mind, and he was right all along.)

Or maybe it wasn’t the sex that had bonded them. Maybe it was what happened before. Ya know, with him actually trying.

But it sounded better to just think that it was the sex, so he’d call it that.

Not that he wasn’t going to try. He did want to try— and he was still going to try.

Except…well, she wasn’t drunk, so it might be a bit harder to say the right things.

But…he’d say that lock-in set a new precedent. Kind of showed him what he was capable of.

It shouldn’t be that hard to keep doing it.

As long as he managed the headaches that came along with it, he’d be fine— and luckily, he had plenty of weed for that.

Besides, they’d made vague plans to hang after school a couple of days— today being one— so…maybe it’d just get easier with that.

Finally, he turned into the school and pulled into his parking spot. “Looks like we’re here,” he sighed softly, reaching over to turn down the radio as he shifted into park. He looked over at Ash, smiled at her for a moment, and then he pulled down the sun visor in front of her and leaned over to peck her cheek. With a light chuckle, he flipped the visor back up. “I’ll, uh…see ya after school, right?”




mood
today's going to be a good day. please let it be a good day. for my own sanity.

location
the parking lot, in rachel

outfit
something casual





playing...
the funeral
by band of horses​




mentions
lucky (because it's apparently a prerequisite for a trevor starter)

interactions
ash

tags
Winona Winona


º º code by ditto º º
 






kellian phelan


Life was a freaking dream!

The lock-in had gone better than anything had ever gone in Kelli’s whole life.

First, she’d gotten a beautiful charm bracelet from the beautiful Bella Dupont, who was just about had to be one of the dopest people on Earth. She was thoughtful and friendly and really, really likable, and she seemed soooo much older and wiser than Kelli did, even though Bella was probably even a bit younger than herself, which Kelli always thought was super dope.

Then, Kelli’d gotten to meet the one and only Naomi Elizondo— yep, that one! It was totally unbelievable, Kelli knew— she was so a celebrity by association now! Naomi was even doper in person than Kelli thought that she’d be. Just like wowie wow woooow, how dope could people get?

After that— yep, more than that happened!— Kelli had been bumped into by THE Casey Clairmont. YEP, THAT ONE! Not only that, but there was also freaking fudging Camille Clairmont, too! It was just boom, boom, boom, one dope thing after the other! Not to mention just how doooope the siblings were in general— even doper than they seemed online!

Oh, oh, oh, oh, and on top of that, Avery Ohtani— total sweetheart!— gave her a pair of earrings! They had her initials, and they were so super cute! And she was just wooooooooah, because how else was she supposed to respond to that? Avery was another seriously dope person— he was the kinda dope that wouldn’t hurt a fly, and he made her just want to hug him.

And then— then— Ronnie came to join them, and turned out that Ronnie had actually talked to Casey Clairmont before, which was like wowowowowowow, and then Kelli had somehow managed to get the courage up, despite her nervousness, to ask them all to play games, and the night went on, and now—

Now she was friends with two actual celebrities, knew Bella and Ronnie and Avery so much better, and just— wowowowowow!

A dream, seriously!

It looked like her toast to new friends, new experiences, and just this whole dope school had actually done something. Insane! (And since that toast seemed to work, it looked like her next toast was going to be to her miraculously passing history class.)

At the end of the night, Kelli’d curled up at the end of the night in her sleeping bag with her stuffed dog named Claude, and she’d dreamt a dream that somehow seemed lamer than her actual, dope life. Yeah, cats could fly in it, but did it have Casey and Camille Clairmont? No? Then nope, not as dope.

When she’d gotten back to the dorms the day after, she put away her old heart earrings, readjusted the earrings that Avery had given her, and admired her new jewelry in the mirror. She felt all warm and fuzzy— and appreciated, which was, uh, different. She really didn’t think that she deserved this kind of treatment, but she appreciated it nevertheless.

Oh, and, though she’d sworn off washing her arm ever again, she did end up doing it, because bleeeegh.

Oh, but speaking of Bella— yeah, we were totally just speaking of Bella— Kelli was going to be helping to show her around the campus today. Yeah, it was kinda late for that, but Kelli knew how easy it was to still get lost. Heck, she kept getting lost until just about a couple of weeks ago, and she was only just now getting used to it.

Er…”getting used to it”. She still got lost on the reg.

But never fret! She was simply going to enlist the help of fellow sophomore, Beth Sterling. And, yes, before you ask— that Elizabeth Sterling! Yep, the daughter of a real-life celebrity!

(This was all still so unreal!)

After getting ready with her roommate as was daily routine, Kelli arrived at Hollywood Arts: the Dopest Place on Earth (Trademark), a bright, eager smile on her face and a thank you card for Bella in hand. She had Avery’s thank you in her backpack somewhere, too, and she’d have to find him and give that to him later.

Her steps were peppy and excited. Sure, she’d, uh…not studied whatsoever for the test that she had today, nor was she ready in any capacity to give her presentation over sedimentary rocks, but hey! She was getting to show her friend around campus with the daughter of an actual, legit celebrity, so that made those worries drift away!

When she arrived, the two girls were already standing beside the locker, and Kelli walked up to them with a bright smile. She gave a wave, which caused her charm bracelet to clinkclinkclink.

“Hey, guys!” she greeted cheerfully. She beamed at Bella, holding out her card to her. “Here, for you,” she said, and then she complimented, “You look so pretty!” It seemed like a regular thing for Bella, though— she kinda seemed like one of those girls who didn’t look bad, like…ever.

Kelli then smiled at Beth. “You’re so gorgeous, too, Beth!” she said genuinely. “I love your style! You’re rocking it.” She giggled softly, and then she realized that Beth might not recognize her right off, seeing as they really hadn’t talked much. Her smile shied a bit. “Oh, it’s, uh, Kelli, by the way, fellow tour guide extraordinaire.” She wiggled her fingers before placing her hand on her backpack.

She gave her backpack straps a firm bounce before smiling again. “How are you two doing?” she asked. “Are we all ready to begin the great Kellibethla tour?”

(The name was still a work-in-progress.)




mood
at tour service

location
in front of the lockers

outfit
casual





playing...
apple pie
by the scary jokes​




mentions
avery, ronnie, casey, cami, & naomi

interactions
bella & beth

tags
geminiy geminiy Winona Winona


º º code by ditto º º
 






dominicka abrams


"Haven't I ever told you that crying over boys is ridiculous? No matter the reason,” Evie said, rolling her eyes.

Nickie sighed deeply. “Yeah,” she said, dabbing a paper towel at her smudged makeup, as if that would help in the slightest. “Yeah, you told me that.” Her voice sounded odd and nasal, and she sniffled.

When they were friends, Evie always told her: don’t cry over boys, it’s not worth it. Nickie couldn’t count the times that she’d been told that.

No, it never helped any, because it wasn’t dumb to cry over boys— especially not the one that Nickie loved.

And then came Evie’s answer to Nickie’s first question: “No.”

Nickie paused her dabbing of the paper towel, looking over at Evie in the mirror as she moved to stand beside Nickie. “You weren’t,” Evie said.

She turned to stare at Evie, her wide, blue eyes studying her for a moment before an eyebrow raised. “Really?” Nickie asked, stop-nosed, tired voice full of disbelief.

“People only see you as pathetic because you let yourself be seen that way,” Evie said with a shrug, and Nickie looked back at her own reflection in the mirror.

She lowered the hand that wasn’t fruitlessly trying to remove her makeup to grip the counter, and she let out a deep sigh. “Yeah,” Nickie said, though she didn’t believe it.

Evie held something out to her. Nickie looked over at her to see a tube of mascara and a pack of makeup wipes.

“Thanks,” she muttered, giving her a split-second, forced smile and taking them both. She sat the tube of mascara on the counter and ripped open the makeup wipes as Evie continued.

“Your constant need for attention and approval reeks of desperation,” Evie stated. “People see right through you.”

As if it would somehow work to block out the sound and keep her from having to hear the brutally honest words of advice from a girl who she once considered to be like an older sister, Nickie scrubbed harshly at her eyes, gritting her teeth and making giving response.

Evie sighed. “Look, you gotta ask yourself if you wanna be a Jenny Humphrey or a Blair Waldorf? A doormat who lets everything and everyone control her or a bad bitch that demands respect? Pick one.”

Nickie’s scrubbing slowed, and she glanced over at Evie’s reflection.

What the…hell?

Was Evie actually talking to Nickie? Since when did this ever happen and not dissolve into a catfight?

She was even talking to her like…she used to.

Ew, she really had to be in distress.

Nickie looked back at her reflection, resuming her quick scrubbing.

"You can keep that.” Evie motioned to the things on the counter. "You need it more than I do.”

“Thanks,” Nickie mumbled again.

“Stop selling yourself short,” Evie added.

Nickie lowered the makeup wipe, turning her head to Evie.

“It doesn't really suit you,” Evie finished, and then she turned on her heels and left the restroom.

Nickie stared at the door for a long moment after Evie’d left.

Fucking bizarre, but…

Stop selling yourself short. It doesn’t really suit you.

It was like the old Evie was talking to her.

And, like…trying to help.

“Thanks,” Nickie muttered, though she knew she couldn’t hear her, and she looked back at her reflection, her brows turning upward.

If she had any tears left, she would’ve been crying.

• • • • •​

Nickie Abrams was trying to be normal.

Well, maybe she wasn’t trying to be normal. Everyone had always told her that she wasn’t normal.

But she was trying to go back to the way that things were before the lock-in. Go back to barely holding it together but still holding it together. Piece back together her relationship with Hunter. Act like none of that bullshit ever happened. She didn’t care what it took, what she had to do or what she had to overlook or anything else about it. She just wanted to…to act like that night— like hell on Earth— hadn’t happened at all.

Of course, that was hard at first, when Hunter wouldn’t answer her phone calls. It was fucking difficult when he wouldn’t answer her texts. No matter how many times she called saying that she was sorry, he didn’t answer, and she always got his fucking voicemail until it filled it, and then she was out of options.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, she kept repeating.

Was she sorry? She didn’t fucking know. She just wanted him back. She didn’t care if she was sorry or if he was sorry or if he was still pissed at her or fucking what. She just wanted him back.

Her mom and dad kept calling, and she kept not answering. Her brother would text her and she wouldn’t even open it. She didn’t want to talk. If she talked, she’d end up crying, and that wasn’t what she fucking wanted.

All she wanted was Hunter back. It was like…like everything depended on it.

She could overlook all of their problems— all of their issues. Every single thing that pissed her off about him.

As long as he’d take her back.

And eventually he did. Eventually, he answered her phone calls. Eventually, he seemed to decide that it’d been long enough that he’d been mad at her, and then everything was…

Back to normal?

No, not normal. There was still something wrong— a glaring issue, right underneath the surface.

Everything I said at the lock-in was the fucking truth.

But she ignored that. If she looked away for long enough, she was sure it would go away. She could continue, putting on her about face and feigning like she was fine, even if she was sitting alone, even if no one wanted to be around her.

She was okay. She was Nickie Abrams, dating Hunter Drake, and everything was fine, even if she was a bitch, even if they’d fought in the parking lot, even if she’d vomited again, even if nothing was actually okay. She was fine.

She tried to sneak out of the apartment without Simone noticing. She wanted to avoid talking to as many people as possible in general, and that included her roommate.

Even though Simone knew everything, Nickie really…hated…talking about it, and Simone…well…when Nickie said Simone knew everything, she meant that she knew everything. Her tough-love roommate made Nickie’s dirt-digging look like child’s play. She’d gotten tired of Nickie’s crying, and next thing Nickie knew, she was telling her the whole story whilst sobbing her eyes out. From the start of how she met Hunter to the fair and Jasquisha to the fucking fight at the lock-in.

One of the things about Simone that Nickie still wasn’t sure about was the fact that she was just…so…honest, and she really didn’t let Nickie…do…Nickie things. Shut off, tell her to shut up, tell her to leave her alone, tell her to—

On and on and on…Simone just didn’t put up with it. Nickie honestly didn’t like that, but it wasn’t like there was much that she could do about it— she’d already told her everything.

Sure, she trusted Simone, but…Simone would tell her her opinions about…everything, and Nickie didn’t really want to hear that what she was doing was bad.

Simone knew that Nickie had “made up” with Hunter a couple of days ago, but Nickie had been avoiding hearing her opinion.

Again…it was so much easier to act okay if no one fucking bothered you— and if no one actually cared about you.

But…apparently, the stars thought that Nickie really fucking needed to hear whatever Simone had to say about it, and as Nickie made her way out of her room, her roommate’s door opened.

Nickie instinctively took a couple of steps back, immediately considering running back to her room before her roommate could try and talk to her.

Buh-bye. Just act like you didn’t see me— I’m not even here.

But it seemed like Simone caught sight of her.

“Hey, Simi,” Nickie greeted half-heartedly, stopping in the hallway, and then she put a hand to her throat.

God, her voice was hoarse from her lack of sleep— though the most obvious sign of it was probably the dark circles beneath her eyes (which no amount of makeup seemed to cover up). There was no way that her sharp-as-tacks roommate wouldn’t catch it.

“It’s been awhile,” Nickie said casually, giving her a somewhat awkward smile. She felt suddenly nervous. “Hhh…ha…how’ve you been?”

And, cue the knees buckling.

Nickie stumbled into her roommate, making an “ack!” sound and putting her arms out. It took her a second to catch her balance, and then she quickly moved back from Simone. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m, uhm…I’m just tired.”

Okay, yeah, no, there was no way that Simi bought that.

Nickie rubbed her eyes, yawning and pulling her purse back on her shoulder. “I should, uh…I should be getting to school. I told Hunter that I’d hang out with him this morning, and I don’t want to, like, not hold up my word. Catch you around?” she asked.

Of course, she knew that it wouldn’t work, and she knew that Simone would definitely had something to say, but…it was worth the shot?




mood
leave me the fuck alone. please.

location
her apartment

outfit
casual





playing...
oh god
by mothica​




mentions
hunter

interactions
simone & evie

tags
jasmyn jasmyn natsukashii natsukashii


º º code by ditto º º
 






Spencer Gray



Lock in had been nice. He’d spent most of the long night just talking to Beth, answering her many questions, asking a few of his own, like what her favourite food was, hobbies, getting to know you questions. He had done more answering than asking though. Beth was very inquisitive to say the least. Her opening questions had given him a bit of shock and pulled a slightly strained laugh from him, though he didn’t know if she had noticed. “Never killed a man before,” he had answered to humour her.

But you have killed a woman.

The voice in his head said, not willing to let him forget.

As if he ever could.

“haven’t skydived before either unfortunately. I hope I’m not getting even more boring by the minute.” He’d finished.

And then he had taken advantage of her passing the baton to him to steer the conversation to easier, less sensitive topics. He knew exactly how Ezra felt about people asking about their past, any questions that probed into their family matters, their privacy. It definitely wasn’t the business of others, and they didn’t need it to be turned into a story or become a whole thing either. A part of him couldn’t help but wonder if they could just keep deflecting everything forever because the more time they spent here, the more people would know, and the more questions would come, especially if Beth and her curiosity was anything to go by.

Anyway, back to lock in, he hadn’t really danced for her as she had asked, but he had shown her a few breakdancing moves before going on to talk about other things, trading harmless stories and information as they toured the rest of the school, like his love of cooking and how he had sent the clay he was meant to shape splattering everywhere during a pottery class he had attended once. And somewhere along the way in the night, they had ended up coming to some kind of agreement that Beth would show him around LA over the next weekend, minus Ezra.

Big brother wasn’t allowed to join in on this one. Knowing Ez, he would probably have made plans of his own by then and as much as Spencer loved his brother, spending every waking second around Ezra would drive even him a little mad. Plus he'd probably keep pushing for him to put himself out there, make something out of nothing, and Spencer really didn't need that.

Again he was here to dance not date, which was why he was in the dance studio, watching two of his fellow dancers, Zeph and Maeve practice the performance they had planned for the upcoming arts fest.

The dance wrapped up and Zeph looked towards him expectantly.

"Well?" He asked, his breathing starting to return to a normal level. "What do you think?" He absently rubbed at his nose and then placed his hands on his hips. "Rough, right? Not polished."

Honestly it was not bad. Maybe a little rough in some areas as Zeph had said but that was why they were students no? To learn and polish their moves, if things were already perfect then they wouldn't really need to be here.

Seeing Zeph and Maeve in action though, it reminded him of why he had wanted to come here in the first place, and it made him feel better about the decision he had made.

"I thought it was good." He offered with a smile as he rose from where he had been sitting and joined the pair. "I especially liked the move towards the end. I wouldn't really say it was rough except for maybe one or two areas…" He continued to offer his perspective and feedback, sharing his thoughts on the areas that could be improved while also praising the parts that he thought were really good. "…anyway that's just my take on it. I'll be happy to sit in and watch again anytime if you want me to."

Hopefully he hadn't gone too overboard in offering his thoughts and suggestions. He had a tendency to get that way when it came to dance, share a little too much of his opinions, his own vision. As much as he disliked others imposing on his own artistic vision, he was sure others like Zeph felt the same way. He was certain that the advice he had given was good advice though. Spencer was confident in his skills and sense when it came to dancing if nothing else.






mood
dance dance dance

location
dance practice room

outfit
outfit





playing...
WONDER

by Shawn Mendes​




mentions
Beth, Ezra

interactions
Zeph, Maeve

tags
Stardust Galaxy Stardust Galaxy Winona Winona


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Ava Sanders


Go ahead and kill her right fucking now. Just... she wouldn't complain. She wouldn't put up any kind of a fight. She'd just stand there and let you end her, because anything was better than what the fuck Jules wanted her to do. And she hoped that Jules knew just how disgusted she was by this very suggestion by the disgusted look on her face.

Ava sat in the driver's seat of the car, her icy gaze focused on the sign for the store in front of them. Her eyes squinted together, her upper lip drawing back into a disgusted grimace.

Starbucks.

She hated it.

The only reason she was here?

The ho-- cool brunette in the seat beside her.

Haha... ha... ha.

"You do know that you're paying way too much for the same shit you could get at home or... literally anywhere else, right?" Ava asked, as if that little tidbit might just be enough to convince Jules that they should go somewhere else.

Obviously it didn't work.

And so, with a loud groan, Ava climbed out of her car and slammed the door shut after her. She locked her car before trailing after Jules towards the front doors of the stupid Starbucks.

To be fair, the only reason Ava was willing to do this was because her and Jules hadn't exactly hung out a lot since the Halloween party. Since Jules had gotten with Dorian -- and she was oh so fucking happy for Jules, of course, because it was nice to see her oh so fucking happy, but... it also kind of sucked. Sure, Ava knew that she didn't have a chance with her straight best friend, but that didn't mean it didn't kind of hurt to see her with guys.

And the worst thing in the fucking world was having to listen to Jules talk about her dates with him. About how oh so fucking cute he was. About how oh so fucking sweet he was. All about how they'd made out in the theater at the school or some shit -- Ava had more or less zoned out at that point.

Yep.

While Ava was off building the most badass fort known to man with Angel, her best friend and longtime crush was off making out with some fucker.

Disgusting. Bleh.

As they stepped up to the doors leading into the Starbucks, Ava quickened her own pace so she could grab the door handle and hold the door open for Jules. She waited for her friend to step through, and then she stepped through after her into the unfamiliar surroundings.

Instantly, her nose was assaulted by the smell of coffee, which wasn't the worst thing in the world. Pulling all-nighters for gaming competitions meant that Ava was very familiar with the taste of coffee and she practically lived on the stuff, but this place smelled of... overly expensive coffee.

Like might as well just grind her cash up and add it to the shit.

She glanced down at Jules, and then looked back up at the menu board. Ava's eyes squinted as she read over the shit, and then she sighed. They used such dumb words. She hated it.

"Can you uhh... order for me...?" She mumbled. "Surprise me or something. I'll pay."

Pay for this absolute highway robbery of fucking coffee.




mood
the things you do for friends

location
Starbucks

outfit
oh damn, no sweats, special day





playing...
i wanna be your girlfriend
by girl in red​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Jules

tags
@Soap


º º code by ditto º º
 
Isabella Dupont
@bellaissima has set their status to:
starting over sucks

@bellaissima has set their outfit to:
cherry pie

@bellaissima has set their location to:
by the lockers

@bellaissima has mentioned:
n/a

@bellaissima has interacted with:
Kelli & Beth

@bellaissima has tagged:
ohdittoh ohdittoh Winona Winona
For someone who was used to moving around constantly, there really should not have been any worries about yet another first day at school. Yet, there was Bella fretting over everything, awake hours earlier than originally intended. Attending lock-in had helped her feel a bit more comfortable about attending the school and the week and a bit that followed lock-in was somewhat okay, sans the fact that she was constantly getting lost and people were looking and...

Confession time: Bella hated starting over.

There was something so awful about being the new kid, something so very unsettling about having people stare and try to figure out who you are from a single glance. And the questions, there were so many questions, even more as soon as Bella opened her mouth and her accent fell from her lips.

“Oh, you’re from France! Tell me about Paris!”

“Can you bake good croissants?”

“Have you been to the Eiffel Tower?”

There was little more that Bella hated more than listening to all the endless prying that came with being the new kid from people that she was 100% certain wouldn’t still be talking to her in a week. Once the new kid is no longer shiny and fresh, everyone seemed to forget they existed as they went back to their normal, mundane lives. Bella couldn’t wait for that to happen to her, to become invisible and normal once more.

At least Bella’s issue of constantly getting lost would soon be solved. Even after a long week of attending Hollywood Arts was over, Bella was still constantly getting lost. How could she not? The school was massive with all of its twisting hallways and the endless amounts of classrooms and the startlingly large student body. It was all so overwhelming, even with everything that Bella had done to prepare herself.

That was precisely why Bella jumped at the chance to have a mentor, even more so once she found out that it would be Kelli and another sophomore girl named Beth showing her around. Bella certainly could use the help and having a friendly face assist her was more than welcome.

Bella strolled up to the pair of girls, a bright smile on her face as she said a quick hello.

“Hey, guys! Here, for you,” Kelli greeted as she handed the ID card to Bella. Bella looked down and scrunched her nose up at the picture across the front. “You look so pretty!”

“Merci, you do as well. I am glad you liked your bracelet.” Bella said before laughing softly. “I do not think I can say the same for myself in this photo though. Is my nose really that big?”

As Kelli began talking to the girl whom Bella assumed was Beth, she carefully stored her ID in the back of her phone before tucking it back into her backpack hanging off of her shoulder.

“How are you two doing?” Kelli asked, her voice drawing Bella’s attention back to the situation at hand. “Are we all ready to begin the great Kellibethla tour?”

“Kellibethla,” Bella echoed with a soft smile, “an interesting name for sure. But yes, I am ready.” Bella then turned to the redheaded girl beside Kelli and extended a friendly hand in greeting. “Bonjour, you must be Beth. It is a pleasure to meet you! Thank you, both, for helping me out. Hollywood Arts is… well, let us just say that there has not yet been a day where I have not gotten lost.”

º º code by ditto º º
 






Mikaela Ainsley



The last thing Mikaela could remember with decent clarity from lock in, was running away from the door laughing after locking Chanel and Cappie out.

The rest of it was a blur of laughter, drinks, drugs and indecipherable images that flashed through her mind like strobe lights and gave her headaches.

It had been a beautiful night, absolutely freeing and entertaining, until the alcohol and drugs stopped flowing through her veins and her mind returned to a state of sobriety. The sober, capable of thinking straight her returned to control and soaked in just what it was her high as fuck self had done in her night of chaos and fun and it just.

Ugh.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose as another headache hit her and took a hearty sip of her coffee in response, the bitter taste making her reflexively scrunch up her face.

God that was so bitter. She hated it, and she hated the fact that it was the only thing that seemed to help with these headaches. Sure lock in had been over a week ago but she had her fill of drinks and drugs last night as well. What the occasion was, she couldn’t remember either but then again, did you really need an occasion to do either these days?

The answer was simple. You didn’t.

Which was what she was trying to convey to her good ol’ breakfast buddy Tori.

“Come on Tori, don’t tell me you went to lock in and didn’t even have a sip of alcohol. It’s the night to let yourself go a little.”

That was every night for Mikaela if she was being honest, but lock in provided much needed cover, and after the rubbish she did while drunk at lock in, she definitely needed it.

Pissing Charlie off by calling her a squirrel and bringing up the Chas incident? Bad move.

Letting Chanel find her drunk ass and locking the second of the Clairmont siblings out of the school with Cappie? Even worse move.

God she hoped Chanel didn’t make a fuss out of it and would believe the excuses she had prepared. Like she had just gotten a little to into trying to have a good night and had a wee bit too much to drink.

Anyway, putting Chanel aside, the one she was dealing with right now was Tori who wasn’t very approving of the things she had gotten up to at lock in either. Unlike Chanel though, Tori was much easier to convince and deal with, and Tori also knew a bit more than Chanel did, at least of her drinking habits that was.

Did you perhaps think that the mild regret she felt over some of her actions from lock in would make her reconsider her habits?

Well it hadn't, her fingers were still as alcohol and drug happy as ever.

Mikaela raised her cup to her lips, then set it back down right away when the smell hit her nose and she remembered it was coffee. Ugh, she hated it so much.

“Anyway aren’t you a woman of the world? Great knowledge, plenty of experience? Surely you don’t mean to say you disapprove of others trying things out and adding to their own experiences. Besides, putting aside the fact that I nicked the keys to the school and locked some people out,” yeah Tori knew about that, “I’m sure everyone else got up to some kind of trouble as well.”

She spooned a mouthful of scrambled eggs into her mouth as she finished her sentence, watching her friend’s body language carefully. “You know the details of what I got up to at lock in,” some of it, “now it’s your turn to share. What experiences did you get to add to your collection?” She asked, smiling.





mood
ugh coffee

location
some cafe

outfit
outfit





playing...
song title here

by artist here​




mentions
Chanel, Cappie, Charlie

interactions
Tori

tags
ohdittoh ohdittoh


º º code by ditto º º
 






Ashton West


So, umm...

Lock-in sucked.

She... thought... it did, anyway...

Like Ash maybe couldn't exactly remember a good deal of what had happened -- or, at least, she couldn't the following morning when she'd woken up, confused, disoriented, and with no idea of where she was.

Oh, yeah, she'd woken up in a bed that she hadn't recognized at first with her shirt backwards and for the briefest of moments, Ash had thought that she'd cheated on Trevor, and she'd nearly puked from the guilt that she felt -- until she realized that Trevor was in the bed with her and bits and pieces of the previous night had started filtering back into her head with every pound of her aching head.

Yeah, she kind of wished that she could've just continued on with not remembering what had happened but by now -- like, what, a week and a half later or something? -- she remembered like... everything. Well, the gist. Callum screaming at her, whatever had happened with Nickie, drinking... Hunter-- well, she didn't really remember anything that had occurred with Hunter, but she'd been able to read back over her texts the next morning.

She still hadn't talked to him and ummm...

She missed him. She really did. But she didn't know how to do that.

Ash figured that, like, she should just let him cool off and then she could try.

She just... didn't know when that would be, and given how bad she apparently was at apologizing, well... her chest kind of felt like it constricted whenever she thought about just doing it.

Oh god, and then apparently stuff had happened with Gen and like... she was sleeping with Landon and Evie had gotten pissed off, and Ash hadn't been there to try and comfort her or anything -- so she just felt guilty over that. Because she'd gone off and gotten super freaking drunk and then she was, like, ninety percent sure that she had slept with Trevor, although she honestly couldn't remember that at all, and it wasn't like she could ask.

"Oh, hey, by the way, did we have sex?"

Yeah, no, see, that would probably just make him pissed off at her, and she really couldn't deal with that.

It was like the world kind of enjoyed just... making Ash repeat her mistakes. Because it was Homecoming, when she'd again gone home with Trevor and not been there for Callum that had first led to there being bad blood between the two. And now she'd literally done the same thing, but this time with someone that she would do anything for.

On the bright side of things, her relationship with Trevor was... actually... going well for once. Like, it didn't feel bumpy and uncertain, like they were tripping their way through dating. It actually felt smooth, and she could honestly believe that he actually liked being around her and it wasn't just some kind of, like, long play to try and sleep with her.

And like to kind of prove that point, he was even driving her to school. Like, how awesome was that?

It was still as friends, thank you very much, although she knew that if people bothered to pay attention, it would be obvious that there was something more. Like, who went out of their way to pick their platonic friends up for school? Especially when she could've easily just caught a ride with literally any of the roommates she lived with who had their own cars and their own licenses. Yeah, see, it didn't make sense.

But she wasn't complaining. She liked having the mornings with him, especially since the rest of her time seemed to be devoted between hanging out with her diminishing friend group, and working with Lucky on their song for the Arts Festival.

She glanced up from her phone as they pulled into the parking lot, and she shifted in her seat to slide it into her pocket while he pulled into a spot.

“Looks like we’re here,” he sighed.

"Unfortunately," she mumbled.

She glanced over at him, her eyes following his hand as he pulled down the sun visor, and she could feel her cheeks turning red and heating up as he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll, uh…see ya after school, right?” He asked as he leaned back in his seat and flipped the visor back up.

The smile that she'd had faded.

Wait...

Her eyes widened. "Were we... were we supposed to hangout?" She asked, her voice quiet as she realized that yep, yep, yep, they freaking were, and she'd--

Fuck.

"I ah..." she could feel her chest starting to constrict, "I didn't... I forgot-- I thought it was another day or, or something, I umm..." Ash turned her gaze away from him to look down at her hands, "I kind of, like... I'm... Lucky... we're supposed to, like, we're umm... hanging out and practicing -- like for the Arts Festival, after school, I..." she glanced back over at him, "I'm so, so sorry. This whole... week has been weird, and umm..."

She apparently couldn't remember anything.

"But I can, like, probably hang out a different night instead," Ash added, although when she thought about it, she couldn't... really... think of any nights that she was going to be free. Or that, like, would work with the whole you know... top secret dating thing, which kind of made it harder, because they had to do so much avoiding of just... everyone. "It's just... busy, because of the Arts Festival, you know?"

She felt the need to clarify that it was solely for the Arts Festival, because although you may not know this, her boyfriend wasn't the biggest fan of her duet partner.




mood
happy, good, amazing, totally great

location
outside the school

outfit
omg great oufits





playing...
I Don't Know Why
by NOTD​




mentions
Hunter, Callum, Lucky, Gen

interactions
Trevor

tags
ohdittoh ohdittoh


º º code by ditto º º
 




Friendly reminder to everyone, don't ever drink with Felix Emmerson but seriously, you should never do it even if someone offered you a million dollars or your life depended on it, it was a terrible choice especially if the only liquor that was available was the one that he carried on his flask.

Okay maybe Maeve was exaggerating a little bit, it wasn't like her time with Felix was terrible, in fact, the guy made her time in the lock-in pleasant, it was nice to catch up and talk about life, it would have been a great memory, if it wasn't the fact that she got drunk, well not to the point that she wouldn't remember what she did, but it was more in the direction that a conversation that started as a deep one ended up in them just saying dumb stuff to the other, which she wouldn't have minded if it wasn't by the fact that in the middle of the conversation she started thinking that Felix really had such blue dreamy eyes, not her proudest thought, but she can reassure in her five senses now that Felix didn't have blue dreamy eyes, and she just wanted to make that clear.

But that was a thing of the past she needed to move on, it was another day and life continued, and right now she had other things to worry about like the Arts Festival, sure it wasn't her first time participating, in fact, it was her third time being part of it, but she was sure that even if she had taken part of it a million times she would still feel as nervous as she was feeling right now, she wanted to do right, she wanted to prove that it wasn't a bad decision to allow her to come back, but at the same time knowing that she would be on stage once again it was kind of nerve-racking, but she just needed to put her mind into the important stuff and everything would be fine, but if time could move a little bit slower so she could prepare herself mentally a little bit more it would be really pleasant..

But thankfully she wasn't alone, and she was partnered with Zeph, a familiar face and one that she could even call a friend, even if they weren't the closest ones, it was nice to have someone to rely on and that she felt comfortable working with, but she knew perfectly that this wasn't just a dance to have fun, and Zeph had the same mindset, which Maeve was thankful for, it was great to feel pushed, in a healthy way, of course, so someone could improve and become a better dancer, even if she felt sometimes that she had lost a lung after all that tiredness after their practices.

But just like Zeph, she wanted to show a perfect dance, but it seemed as every time they continued practicing there was always something that was not perfect according to Zeph, and even Maeve felt it, maybe they were just overthinking or the stress was getting into them, so having someone new and give his input was such a reliever because she was sure sooner or later things would have started to get strained between the two. And the last thing she wanted was to get into an argument with him knowing they still had to perform together.

So just as they ended up once again their dance it was obvious that both didn't feel pleased with the outcome, both of them turned to Spencer their new set of eyes during their practice, her face was flushed and her breathing was heavy, but either way, she was hopeful of him saying they were doing good and they were just overthinking and there wasn't anything to worry about, so when he started saying that it was good a light smile appeared on Maeve's face at least they were going on the right direction, but it did look rough in some areas and Maeve knew the reason behind it, the movements that didn't look as clean as the others were the ones where she put more weight into her operated foot, and she knew at that times she was overthinking her movements, making sure to not feel any pain that she wasn't giving her all, or that's what her worried mind always told her, although this wasn't being pointed out by Zeph or Spences so she could just be overreacting, right? But either way, she didn't feel at ease at not having a perfect dance.

But she didn't want to be the one that held back Zeph after all both of them were trying their best, she didn't want to be petty and be a drama queen demanding for the choreography to be changed, but maybe this time, it was good for the sake of their dance "I'm sure we can pull it off if we can continue practicing, but it wouldn't be a good idea to try and modify that part of the choreography just in case? Maybe we are closing ourselves to that specific move and we are just stressing out over too much and we could solve it with just a modification? I know it's crazy to be changing things at this point but it wouldn't be good to at least give it a try"
Location: dance practice room | Mood: I can do this
Outift: Here | Interactions: Zeph ( Winona Winona ) Spencer ( Xed Xed )
Maeve Anneliese Ackerman


Code by Stardust Galaxy​
 






Dalton Kirby



"Screw you, Kirby," he snapped. "I'm not in the fucking mood for your bullshit today. Find someone else to torture, you fucking... fucking... fucking dick."

Dalton cocked an eyebrow as he listened to the younger boy. Wow, his insults had somehow gotten even worse than before. He must have hit his head hard on the landing when he got kicked into the closet.

Despite what he had said, Dalton actually had no intentions to ‘torture’ Slater as the boy had said. He’d just wanted him to fuck off and get out of his way, but now that he was here and brought up the idea of torturing someone...well…

He closed the distance between them, stopping in front of Slater, hands still hanging harmlessly by his side. The boy only had his shitty ass timing to blame for this, and his mouth and that bitch of a professor and the fact that the corridor they were in was presently empty.

“Not in the mood for my bullshit?” He repeated, “You’re the one who walked into my path Slater, just like you did that night at lock in.”

If anything, he was the one who wasn’t in the mood to deal with his ‘step-brother’ and he didn’t really have the time either because Professor Bitch thought herself fit to deliver him an ultimatum and the test was in a couple of fucking days.

So he was going to make this quick.

His fist delivered a quick punch that connected with Slater’s face and in the process, the test paper he had been holding slipped from his other hand and fell onto the floor forgotten.

Flexing his fingers, Dalton brought his face right up to Slater’s and growled in his ear. “Word of advice. If you know what’s good for you then do what you can to stay out of my way and I’ll do you a favour and stay out of yours.”

Words and punched delivered, Dalton pulled back and stalked off down the hallway, not bothering to spare Slater another glance.

He was going to hit the gym, get in some exercise so he could rid himself of some of his frustration and anger before he ended up beating the hell out of the next person who pissed him off and ending up with a black mark on his record.

Should he be studying instead? Probably, especially since the test was only a few days away. But like hell he could or would, besides the thought of doing what the old hag probably wanted, forced him to do, it made him sick. As sick as chemistry and all it's fucking molecules and atoms and whatever shit made him.

He was never ever going to need it anyway which just made this crappy situation a hell of a lot more crappy. The minute he got to kick the subject to the curb and rid himself of professor bitch, he was going to throw a fucking party. But first he had to punch some punching bags, actual ones because he'd get into trouble otherwise, because that was the only way he knew how to deal with his anger.

Take it out on someone or something else.





mood
screw you professor bitch

location
outside a classroom

outfit
outfit





playing...
song title here

by artist here​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Slater

tags
Winona Winona


º º code by ditto º º
 
"Focus on me, I'm about to blow them all away"
Stella Bailey
@Steller.Bae has set their status to:
Just another day

@Steller.Bae has set their outfit to:
Petite cutie

@Steller.Bae has set their location to:
School

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

@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Zeph (via text kinda)
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So the lock-in was...an event.

Racing Lin was probably the highlight of it due to the fact it literally took her breath away. The boy had stamina for eons and she didn't know what she was thinking when she agreed to race him. Oh that's right she was just trying to blow off steam from talking to Mike Reid of all people. He was so insufferable and she'd never understand why people put up with his attitude. A bit hypocritical? Maybe.

Still never again on both counts. She didn't know how Charlie and Zeph kept up with Lin, and she honestly didn't want to anymore. She tried and she failed. She was willing to take that L, which is actually rare for her. Admitting defeat wasn't something Stella did normally, but even she had to admit the level of crackhead energy Lin had was godly and she was not blessed with the ability to compete. She told herself it wasn't a competition worth winning to make herself feel better because she did still have pride that was twice her size and normally an ego to match.

The brief moment that was nice was getting to see Zeph, but even that was short lived as Lin whisked him away about as quickly as he appeared. Not that she didn't expect that since Zeph had warned her he'd be spending time with him. Her time was supposed to be AFTER Lin which in the back of her mind started to sound like a reoccuring trend...nope don't think about that. Stella was not about to be one of those girls. If anything it just meant Stella should be taking this time to hang out with her own other friends.

Despite popular belief Zeph wasn't her only friend, just the friend she spent the most time with due to many reasons. She enjoyed his company, he was a hard worker so she could study with him and work on things along side him because he'd be doing the same, he was drama free, they were in the same grade so they shared classes together...yah that's the gist of it. Now she could add the fact that they are dating, but honestly they didn't spend any more time together since dating then they usually did. If anything it's been a little less between prepping for the arts festival and these events that they only really showed up and left together to.

Once again not that she's bitter, it's just a fact.

She caught him at the tail end of the event and once again they went home. The in-between time was mostly her skating around and chatting with various people. It was a bit of a wake up call though that she should be more like him and talk to other friends. Cue Maddie! Sweet sweet Maddie.

She loved hanging out with Maddie due to her being one of her few female friends. Sure Stella now had a roommate and with any luck they'd become friends too, but in the meantime Maddie is her number one girl. Sure she could also have hit up Landon or even Dorian, but both seemed busy due to recent events. Not to mention it was a different vibe hanging out with the guys verses Maddie. The same cute high Zeph seemed to get from hanging out with Lin was similar to how Stella felt about Maddie.

A sense of what should be normalcy.

It's just that of course due to both their busy schedules it took over a week to even plan a day to hang out, and even that turned into a night before school sleep-over. It was both a blessing and a curse to have friends as successful in their careers and as well off as herself because on the one hand they completely understood her and the pressures that came with that, but one the other meeting up took forever. They didn't have the luxury to just jump up and do something because they actually usually had plans, jobs, interviews, ect.

But hey better later then never right? It was just what the doctor order for Stella's mental state. They stayed up talking and catching up on everything under the sun all while being surrounded by snacks and cheesy guilty pleasure movies. It was a night that let Stella and her feel like regular teenage girls. Something Stella all too often forgot that she was. Being forced to grow up so fast Stella prided herself on her maturity, but sometimes it was more of a burden then a prize.

She was allowed on nights like this to just relax, and turn off her ambitious drive for just a moment. Nights like this kept her from burning out weather she realized it or not. Even being around Zeph she didn't always completely let her guard down like this. Not that she felt guarded around him, but it was a different part of her that got to shine when he was around is all.

The next morning they'd woken up early enough to drive to Starbucks and relish in this freedom for just a bit longer before arriving at the school. Sadly stepping foot on school grounds put her right back into her normal frame of mind and she went her separate ways from Maddie. Not only did they run in different social circles, but were also in different departments and grades so seeing each other during the school day was basically impossible.

With a heavy sigh and a sip of her drink she made her way to the black box room where most of the drama kids would be. They still had quite a bit of work to do on their Grease rendition for the arts festival after all. She was Sandy so she actually had quite a few lines she needed to rehearse. Normally that was the easy part and the singing and choreography would be the tough but she was finding getting into character difficult lately.

She felt she'd have made a better Rizzo at this point, but it was way too late for recasting parts. She knew they should've just stuck to a non-musical version of Hamilton.

Despite the issues facing her with the festival, she couldn't help but hope that she'd be able to spend some time with Zeph at least some point in the day. Maybe lunch? She knew it would be a stretch since just like she had work to do so did he. She didn't know how much work him and his partner still had on their dance for the winter arts fest, but she knew how she was because well...it's something they had in common. He wouldn't rest till it was the best, till it was perfect. This needed to be flawless their was too much at stake and she knew that.

This could help become their break out piece! She understood the importance of exposure, and sometimes forgot that Zeph was still climbing in the dance world. Sometimes she got so wrapped up in knowing how talented he is she forgets not everyone has seen or knows what she does, so things like this are his time to show the world and scouts what she already knows. He's brilliant, and she should support that by giving him space to spread those wings.

But how to do that and ask for just a smidge of quality time? Normally, she wouldn't bother. She'd see him when she'd see him, no biggie. Even if that's not till after the festival is over. Something about not spending any time for over a week with someone holding the title of her 'boyfriend' though? That was...weird? Was this being clingy? She didn't think so. This was a normal thing to want right? Even for people like them in positions like them.

She supposed she wouldn't know unless she asks though right? Worse thing he can say is he's busy maybe later.

She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text his way.

"Hey, you free during lunch today?
If not it's fine."

Send. Well time to go run lines in the mean time. That ending won't memorize itself, and she needed to find a fake cigarette prop...or bum a real one from the way too many stoners that attended this place.

º º code by ditto º º
 
Dangerously Soft
Amethyst Jones
@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their status to:
Where can the good girls go to hide away~

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their outfit to:
Body lookin like Milk

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their location to:
School hallway

@If.U.Seek.Amy has mentioned:
Charlie, Trevor, Lucky, Josie,

@If.U.Seek.Amy has interacted with:
Kian ( geminiy geminiy )
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Amy could confidently say that the lock-in was a huge success…well for herself. She couldn't really speak for other people because lord knows it was probably terrible for someone if not many people. That was just the nature of things in this place she'd learned.

Charlie and Trevor had seemed to work things out which meant being at home no longer felt like WWIII was about to erupt from the tension. She'd gotten to hang out with Lucky which was surprisingly not only refreshing but kind of needed. When she was with him, even if only briefly for the night, she was able to get into a zone where all her previous issues that'd been weighing so heavily on her her...just didn't matter as much any more. Honestly they hardly mattered at all. She didn't feel like a failure, or a loser, or a nerd that didn't belong here, or like the foolish girl who got cheated on by one of the biggest players in the school, or the girl who got ghosted, none of that. She just felt like a girl making music because it was fun. Which is a mindset she hadn't been able to really get into for a long time now, even before this school year started and all the drama that came with it.

She'd enjoyed it so much that she'd actually kept her word and went to go see him at an open mic night like they'd talked about. He really was talented, and she could see who him and Jo got along so well. The talent part wasn't really a surprise since he had to be to even be here right now. Still listening to his music just hit different. It was a different vibe then she usually felt because to be honest it wasn't a genre she listened to often. While her lyrics were very clear about what was going on with her, and her intentions there was more of a mystery to his. There was more room for interpretation, and that was actually intriguing.

She was surprised when a happy turn of events led them to actually singing together. something she didn't realize she'd like until she was up there with him. She'd sung plenty of times with her friends usually on her youtube channel, and of course during this years homecoming half time show...but singing with someone she hardly knew? That was new, but exciting.

Maybe she was too nice...

Befriending Saint and now Lucky? Sure her friends would probably forgive her for being around them knowing her overly compassionate nature, but it wasn't a good look and even she knew that. Which is why she didn't exactly tell Trevor or Charlie she'd gone. She wouldn't lie if they asked...but what were the odds of them asking?

In other news everything else from the rest of the night to the week and a half after it had been largely uneventful. Which was music to Amy's soul. Ever since getting mixed up with Dei it seemed life was one big thing after another for better or for worse. She had always been a fly under the radar kinda girl before him. This thrust into the limelight was admittedly great for her career, but her mental state was not prepared and for all of this and truth be told her music showed the cracks in her stability if people truly listened. This was finally peace. She didn't have to fake like she was ok. Like she was this strong resilient girl...for once things were ACTUALLY ok. No false pretenses.

But now thing were fading back to reality. Today her two singles (She don't and 1000 times) were dropping and she had to admit she was a little nervous. Mostly because everyone knew who and what they were about. She basically was angry ranting in both songs even if she sounded much more heartbroken in one then the other. While therapeutic for her and she believed it was a huge step forward for her in the healing process...she didn't know how her classmates (especially the ones who were friends with the two individuals involved) would react. She didn't want to open up more drama over the topic that seemed to have generally been blown over by now...but she couldn't help that two months ago that's how she felt.

Her song for the festival was much more how she felt now, and a more tame and logical response to the whole thing, but could people blame her for not being calm, cool, and collected in the face of what happened while it was fresh? Her Agent said she needed to drop a song so...there it was. Originally it was supposed to be a love song, but things just like life change at the drop of a hat. Her agent still really wanted a love song from her since she still technically have never released one...but also understood why that'd be difficult right now, not to mention this was better for clout all things considered.

This would also be the first song she didn't have people like Charlie listen too first before release. No one had head it except the people in the studio with her. So her nerves where on fire to say the least. She was worried about her peers and the fans would say since it was a different side of herself she'd never exposed before. It was a side of herself she didn't even know she had within her. Hurt really brought out the worst in her and she wished she could say it was all out of her system now.

Not to mention in the face of all this her manager told her to prepare to be getting a lot of interview calls again. However Amy had resolved that if she didn't talk about the break up when it happened outside of school she damn sure wasn't going to talk about it now. Dei had made their relationship a public matter, but she didn't want that. Her music would be the only insight anyone not already involved needed to know. She didn't owe the world any explanations. She had no intention of getting 'revenge' or trying to 'ruin' his career or image more so then it might've already taken a hit for. She simply wasn't that kind of girl despite it being what he deserves.

So what to do to get her mind off her nerves? She could study for her math quiz today, or even work on her Music History project....or not do the typical bookworm options she's known for. Because if anyone did want to bother her, the library is probably the first place they'd look for her. She sighed walking the halls in thought. Music room? Was that still obvious? Where was Charlie or Trevor when she needed them ugh.

She hummed walked down the halls looking for one of her best friends when she spotted another familiar face. Well kinda. She'd spoken to him a few time on twitter, did that count?

"Hey!" She smiled brightly with a wave walking up to him, "Kian right?" She asked making sure she wasn't mixing up pfps and names. "Can I ask you something?" She added a bit sheepishly. Maybe he'd seen any of her friends around today.

º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:
MOOD: he's pooping guys

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: school
basics
MENTIONS:
Nate, Gen, Alex, Ezra, Landon, Mikaela
INT:
Winona Winona (Adriane)
jasmyn jasmyn (Evie)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Chas Marino
Chas stopped dead in his tracks as the office door opened without his permission. He flinched, a primal fear sweeping across his body as he laid his shocked gaze upon the mother of all bitches, Evelyn Sinclaire, standing in the doorway with a smug, vindictive grin.

"Going through files in the principal's office...after hours? Seems a little suspicious, don't you think?" the shallow cow uttered, her insignificant drivel screeching in the air like nails on a chalkboard. Cheap, flimsy, tasteless nails, might he add.

God damn it all to HELL.

This was exactly what Chas feared most. Leave it to dirt-hungry Evie to fuck everything up. She was like a little earthworm or something. And she wasn't even good at gathering dirt. She just happened to... happen upon this one.

"I'm the president. I grab documents from here all the time," he lied with a roll of the eyes, clutching his phone tightly. She didn't know what they were there for. How could the pea-brained, self-proclaimed "fashionista" ever put this coincidence to use if she was aware of nothing past trespassing? They were all trespassing. It's the Lock-in. That was exactly why Chas hadn't made off with the binder in the first place. It was too conspicuous. Only then would anyone other than he and Adriane have a sense for what was going on.

Evie and Adriane's bickering faded into white noise as Chas glared with severing, sundering, splitting ferocity, burning with the hateful desire to rend. The girls' scathing remarks sounded like the ugly cries of banshees in the distance as they dissipated into static.

"I don't know what you think you just saw, but you didn't. You poke your hook nose into my business, you get burned." The short boy jabbed a finger into Evie, his finger shifting upward to avoid her boob.

Eugh. Gross.

"Let's leave the ex-con's bitch to her speculation," he spat, roughly shoving past the aforementioned Plastic. He waited until Adriane had made it out, locking up the office with his spare key. Obviously there was a reason Student Body President Chas Marino had a key. Evie pegging him as suspicious only reflected poorly on her. Such an obsessive, desperate nobody. She was filth under Chas' designer heel.

"Ta-ta, luv," he cooed in an Australian accent, winking at the girl before stalking down the hall.

-- here is a very subtle transition --

The bright lights of the school halls were so much less harsh in the daytime than they were after hours when the space was devoid of any natural light. It would have been easier on the eyes for Chas if it wasn't for the masses of human-sized vermin infesting the joint. Here's to another Monday morning of condescending at the student body.

People really had the audacity to show up to this prestigious school of fine arts in sweatpants? What the hell? Couldn't they at least try to give Chas some competition for "best dressed"? He'd shown up and wasted a perfectly put-together, preppy outfit attending class among a crowd of unrefined troglodytes. Even Gen was looking like a wreck. He always knew the girl's days were numbered, but to see her fall apart so soon...

It almost felt like Christmas.

It was still fairly early in the morning, so the halls weren't too crowded. The risk of bumping shoulders with any of his grimy peers was low, which was a relief in of itself. He'd called the collaborators of his and Alex's film project for the Winter Art Festival in early to proceed with filming now that Ezra had fabricated enough of his pieces to properly rehearse the first few scenes. Blocking with Landon and Mikaela had been hell considering how it often felt like Chas was the only one ever taking anything seriously.

Why didn't he just cast himself as the lead?

Being director was a better job, anyway. With power came the ability to show up late to your own meetings, which was useful given how much Chas had to use the restroom after a leisurely coffee break. The Italian reached the end of the hall, speed-walking into the restroom and darting straight into a stall.

As if the gods' only wish was to disturb Chas' peace, his Celebrity Rehab keyring slipped out of his pocket and out of the stall immediately as he pulled his pants down.

...

No one saw. Probably.

Chas could still maintain his grace and poise, so long as he finished quickly.

God save us all.
code by valen t.
 






Damien Slater


Damien's goal had been to just slip right past fucking Dalton and go on his way. He didn't want to deal with any... any of his fucking step brother's angsty fucking bullshit, and -- and -- he was tired of being used as a personal punching bag. Yeah, remember? He still had bruises from their previous fight, and he wasn't looking to try and and add to any of those.

So he tried to slip past him, but Dalton was obviously on some kind of warpath, and Damien was just being reminded of why he'd been so thrilled when Dalton transferred schools. Because he didn't have too constantly look over his back, and he didn't have to constantly be punched.

“Not in the mood for my bullshit?” He repeated, “You’re the one who walked into my path Slater, just like you did that night at lock in.”

"Oh, yeah, I should be thanking you for that," Damien replied, "that dude you locked me in the close with? Fucking great sex. Thanks for the wingmanning."

Now fuck off.

Dalton's face connected with Damien's face before he could react.

OH FUCK HIM.

All of the angered bravado fell away as Damien doubled over, his hand going up to his face. His fucking nose was dripping blood and he pulled his fingers away to see his fingers stained red.

Kirby leaned in close to Damien, and his heart started pounding rapidly in his chest in response. This was it. He was going to fucking die, but instead Dalton just whispered in his ear. “Word of advice. If you know what’s good for you then do what you can to stay out of my way and I’ll do you a favour and stay out of yours.”

And with that, his asshole of a step brother was walking away.

Damien looked back down at the blood in his hand, and he watched as a couple more drops of blood dripped from his nose into his palm before he brought his hand back up to his face. He pressed his hand against his nose, his lips parted to breathe, and started towards the nearest boy's bathroom.

The only positive part of this entire fucking thing was that Damien was so used to be being beaten up that he knew exactly what to do. So he headed to the bathroom, and he washed the blood from his hands and his face. Once his face was cleared of blood, he peered into the mirror. Fresh blood started to drip from his nose, his lip -- which had been busted at the lock-in -- was still trying to heal, and now there was a fucking bruise developing across his nose.

Fucking lovely.

Angrily, he grabbed a handful of paper towels and pressed one of them under his nose so he wasn't just fucking bleeding all over the place, and then he stomped out of the bathroom.

He kept his gaze focused on the ground in front of him, and his sure-footed steps took him towards his destination as fast as he could fucking move.

And then he turned into the classroom that he was supposed to meet Beel and Felix in later to work on their project, but hey, fuck it. He'd just get started fucking early or some shit. He pulled the door closed after him, the glass in it rattling as he slammed it shut, and he flicked on the lights.

He headed towards the desktop that he'd been using during this project, and he plopped down in the seat. He placed the extra paper towels on the table beside him. With his left hand, he kept the other paper towel pressed under his nose, while he used his right hand to pull up the project.

As he started to lose himself in his work, the anger and frustration that he'd already felt from the morning started to crumble away until Damien actually felt calm.

A strange feeling for the typically high-wired boy.




mood
fuck you, what the fuck, and fuck me

location
classroom

outfit
ah yes, yesterday's clothes





playing...
Sex for Breakfast
by Life Of Dillon​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Dalton

tags
Xed Xed


º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD:
hmm...

OUTFIT:
Jacket & shirt
sweatpants & shoes
​
INFO
LOCATION:
parking lot, in car

WITH:
Chanel

MENTION:
Ash, Eli, Gen, Nate​
ACTIVITY
@Soap
TAGS
cappie
Cappie shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t done anything that would make her threaten to reveal my real name to the public yet. So... that’s pretty nice of her.”

Did Gen know it? He knew only a few people knew it. Ash was the first person he’d told to, and then Eli sometime after. He did recall that one time, when they started knowing each other as kids, Gen had asked what Cappie was short for, and he answered, “Captain William Kidd”. He was joking, of course.

Although, he did admit he has an uncle named that. Yes, his name included the “Captain” part. His grandparents from his mom’s side were kind of hippies.

Relaxing his head back against the headrest, Cappie listened patiently to Chanel’s answer to his question, without interrupting with his usual quippy comments.

“You had access to the keys.” True, he had access to them. However, Chanel could’ve just told him to hand over the keys to her and she would’ve gone off to search by herself. She had to have considered that option at some point. She did tell him she was smarter than she looks.

”And…”

And?

“...Perhaps, I enjoy your company more than most.”

Oh.

He’d be lying if he said he was expecting that response. He slightly raised his eyebrows in subtle surprise, like it was the first time he heard anyone say that to him. No, he wasn’t imitating Chanel’s own expressions from earlier—then again, he was also an actor, so maybe he was.

And no, this probably wasn’t the first time anyone had said they enjoyed his company. Maybe a variation of it, or an implication. On, like, less than two occasions. Cappie was aware of how annoying he can be, but he wasn’t always trying to be. He definitely didn’t annoy people out of spite or based on pure malice. Most of the time, anyway. He teases, playfully pokes fun at anyone who needs to loosen up a bit, and he was usually harmless, unlike some actual assholes at this school. But there would always be at least one person who might take him too seriously or misconceive him as a bully who finds cheap entertainment at the expense of other people’s emotional distress. Puh-lease. He has better hobbies than that.

You’d think someone like Chanel would have enough of his clowning nonsense, but here she was, telling him she enjoyed his company. Sure, she said “perhaps”, but that meant there was a chance she really did. Hopefully not only because of his occasional self-deprecating jokes.

“Nice to know I haven’t scared you off,” Cappie said with a small smile. “If you’re wondering what I thought, I just figured you haven’t made a decent friend at school yet. You’ve only been here for a week, so I can’t blame you.”

He reached for his phone on the center console and checked his home screen for its battery. They’d been for 10 to 15 minutes, and his phone was barely inching to 5 percent. He either needed a better phone or a new charger. Considering the class status of her family, he was sure Chanel had both.

“I think I’m gonna stay here. Y’know, avoid Nate’s wrath for losing the keys for as long as possible.” Cappie zipped up his baby blue jacket, to avoid catching a cold overnight. Chanel could do whatever once her phone was charged up. Text her siblings to find her or sleep in the car. He wouldn’t care either way.

“By the way, the weather will be dropping a little below fifty later in the night. There’s a blanket in the backseat if you don’t have one.”

They had some small talks here and there to pass the time. Cappie told her an old crossword puzzle book with a few pages completed in the glovebox. Chanel had mentioned liking them from their DM texts. What? So he remembered a small info like crossword puzzles. Not a big deal.

He might’ve helped her with a couple of words. Again, no big deal.

Eventually, Cappie dozed off. Not sure when. He remembered taking a black baseball hat from his backpack and tilting the hat’s bill over his eyes like a cowboy. He didn’t sleep right away, being semi-jetlagged, but he felt relaxed enough to drift to sleep at some point.

Did Nate ever find him? Probably not. The Cadillac had tinted windows, not that Nate knew about it, so finding a Cap on Hollywood Arts parking lot might not be so easy.
code by valen t.
 
Last edited:






Casey Clairmont


The lock-in had been great. Amazing. Gorgeous. So much fun. Sure, it could've been a lot more fun, but he'd be cool with sitting around playing games like Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever or whatever it was that his new friends (and sister) came up with. And hey, hey, hey, he had friends now! Like more than just Chas and Lydia. He was definitely counting all of them as friends now -- Avery and Kelli, and...

Bella.

Yeah Bella didn't like him very much, but in proper Casey fashion, he hadn't allowed that to drag him down too much. Nope, no little girl was going to drag down his mood. Regardless, he'd just make it up to her and it would only be a matter of time until she was also his friend. Because ya know, Casey did kind of like hanging around her. She was funny. And it was real funny when she'd get all worked up over something he said.

Hahahaha... ha.

Anyway, anyway, he was now at the good ol' school. Him and his sisters had been attending for a couple weeks now, so Casey could say that he was pretty much a certified ummm... master... of school. Like he now understood how everything worked. Mostly. Like you weren't allowed to talk during classes, and you had to ask permission to leave, and you couldn't put your feet up on the tables, and they didn't quite appreciate you whipping out a lighter, and blah, blah, blah. So, public school was a lot more boring that being homeschooled on a tour bus, but...

He was enjoying it.

Kind of.

It could just be real boring.

One of his least favorite parts of the whole public school thing were the school bathrooms, though. He just wasn't a fan but hey, when nature calls... nature calls.

So, as he stepped into one of the bathrooms, his eyes caught on something on the ground.

A little keyring on the ground. Now Casey didn't think about how gross it might be to pick something up off the bathroom floor so, without hesitation, he scooped up the keyring to inspect it -- and that's when he saw what kind of keyring it was. A Celebrity Rehab keyring! And his eyes lit up in excitement.

"Yo, yo, yo, Chas," he said and he brought his fist to knock on the door of the stall that he'd found the keyring in front of. Because, yes, it didn't occur to him that there was every chance that it wasn't Chas in that bathroom. It didn't occur to Casey that people just... didn't normally pick things up on bathroom floors, and it didn't occur to him how weird it was to knock on the bathroom stall in a public restroom.

After all, he did plenty of banging on the bathroom doors at home to yell at his sisters to hurry up. It was the same thing, right?

"Hey, hey, I found your little..." he trailed off, and dangled the thing in front of him, but then he realized Chas couldn't actually see him, so he tried to find the words for it again, "your little dangly thingy. Ya got one of these for being on the show, huh? Do I get a cool dangly thingy for being a guest on your mom's show? 'Cause if not, I need to speak to someone 'cause I think it'd be cool. I'd wear it like an earring."

He was kidding.

... Mostly.




mood
hypeeee

location
schoolio

outfit
oh look, not a band shirt





playing...
I'm Ready
by AJR​




mentions
Bella

interactions
Chas

tags
hery hery


º º code by ditto º º
 
Charlie Howell
@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
hi, about that...

@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
school casual

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
Location

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
trevor, lin, amy, jo

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
dalton

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
Xed Xed
Charlie hadn’t expected much from lock-in. The week prior to the event had, in simple terms, sucked a massive amount of ass so Charlie really wasn’t in the mood for having fun and chillaxin. Somehow though, in a strange turn of events, she actually managed to score herself one of the best lock-ins in lock-in history.

Working things out with Trevor had been the most unanticipated highlight of her evening. Charlie honestly hadn’t expected an apology of any capacity from her best friend, much less an emotional confession and a genuine heart-to-heart. Walking on eggshells for so long had been difficult on all four of the roommates, the apartment constantly feeling on the verge of war. So, resolving the issue with Trevor and actually ending on a good cafeteria-raiding note had been a welcome reprieve from the tension.

And then there was Lin. There was a stupid amount of things that Charlie could say about the Lin situation, a stupid amount of things that Charlie had spent the week gushing to Amy and Jo about. Everything had been strangely perfect, from the paint fight with him and Zeph to the storage building antics to busting out the gaggle of dumbasses to all the fun they got up to after. To be fair, it was nearly impossible for Charlie not to absolutely adore her time spent with Lin, but lock-in had been different. By the time Charlie left the next day, things felt certain and official, like their relationship was solidified. Charlie loved it.

Love.

Okay, maybe not everything had been confirmed in Charlie’s mind. Lin had almost said the ‘l-word’ more than once during their time together, each time taken back before the rest of the syllable could drop. Charlie wasn’t sure what that meant, whether he just didn’t feel ready to say it or if he just didn’t feel that way, but Charlie was sure about what she would have said in response.

That is a story for another time though.

Charlie rolled up to school on Monday morning groggy and dizzy from fatigue. As fun as the lock-in had been, all the fun had left her behind on her studies. AP Calculus had thoroughly made Charlie its bitch over the weekend after lock-in, the equations and patterns melding together with the overly difficult AP Chemistry she was also studying for. Eventually, all the classes she had been working for blurred together with the passage of time. One minute, it had been just before dinner and the next, it was 7:30am and Charlie was running late for her bus.

Going off of no sleep was not really ideal given the fact that she had two tests that day but hey, Charlie was good at functioning like a normal person. All she needed was a lot of coffee and a lot of…

What was that on the ground?

Charlie looked down at the semi-crumpled white sheets on the ground, scattered haphazardly across the floor. Someone had definitely dropped them. Dropping her backpack to the ground, Charlie began gathering up the papers and organizing them by the numbers on the bottom right of the page. With the papers gathered, Charlie’s eyes drifted to the top of the front page.

The only thing more glaring than the name ‘Dalton Kirby’ scrawled across the top was the big ol’ ‘F’ written in red pen and circled neatly right beside it.

“Fuck.” Charlie exclaimed to herself as she shut her eyes and turned her head away. Nope, nope, nope she didn’t just see that. That big F was none of her business, Dalton Kirby’s grades were none of her business, fuck it, Dalton Kirby was none of her business. She didn’t just see anything, nope, she was just going to walk away and leave the pages there.

Charlie sighed and rubbed her temples with her spare hand. No, she couldn’t do that. If someone got their hands on a paper with that bad of a grade on it, they would never let him live it down. As much as it wasn’t Charlie’s business to know his grades, she certainly was a better choice in informant over someone nosey like Nickie.

Making her way up the stairs towards where her locker sat, Charlie hid the paper from view by gently tucking them in the front of her calculus textbook, making sure that the name and the grade was out of sight and out of mind. She would likely run into one of Dalton’s stupid friends later and she could give it to them or leave it somewhere where he would find it. He didn’t need to know that Charlie had been the one to find it…

“Oh shit.”

Turning the corner down the science hallway towards her locker, Charlie stopped dead in her tracks as she spotted Dalton standing outside a classroom. Just avoid him, Charlie, don’t bother him. From the look on his face and the tension in his jaw, he was already in a bad mood. But the test was weighing heavy in her hands and the longer she had it, the more that could go wrong. So, with a deep breath, Charlie walked up to Dalton.

“Hey…” She greeted awkwardly, reaching up to scratch the back of her neck. Looking around for any snooping students and finding the coast clear, Charlie pulled out the test and smacked it against Dalton’s chest so that the name and grade were still hidden. “I, uh, I think you dropped that. Sorry about the grade.” Charlie winced at her own words. “Not that you’re stupid or anything, that wasn’t really my intention. I promise I wasn’t snooping, I just saw it and uh…” Fucking smooth, Howell. Real fucking smooth. “Figured I’d return it to you. Your secret is safe with me.”

Charlie cringed again.

Please don’t punch me.

º º code by ditto º º
 






Victoria Sterling​


Before you jumped to any conclusions, no, Tori had done nothing that she could be even slightly ashamed of on lock-in night— or any night, ever, but especially not lock-in night. All that she’d done was sit in Ezra’s car and catch up, reminisce about the two weeks that he’d been at HA before, and listen to some music that she’d ended up having stuck in her head the rest of the weekend and into the next week. That was it.

It was nice, though. She really did enjoy it. Ezra was, uh, well, nice, and…fine, you wanted to hear her say that he was hot again? He was hot, too. She totally went the whole night without getting flustered again, and he totally never said anything to fluster her. Everything went without a single hitch, and the whole impromptu catch-up in a car thing turned out to be just a nice experience that honestly made Tori’s night.

(Yes, Beth, that was the truth.)

Speaking of Beth, Victoria’s little sister had somehow managed to hide herself well enough that Tori couldn’t find her at any point in the long night. Her ability to evade her older sister was upsettingly impressive, and Tori was going to lose her mind over it some day.

She was worried sick all night and just spent the rest of it sitting awake in a random music room, watching some freshman flex his piano skills and clapping periodically when his jazz solos ended. Pretty uneventful.

Of course, when the lock-in was over, Beth had to come with Tori to her vehicle, which, of course, had involved Tori chewing Beth out for the entirety of the ride home and a solid thirty minutes once they had arrived home.

After the chewing out was done, Tori’d chatted with her sister about their Arts Fest project and realized that they really didn’t have much time left before the Fest— which mean the next week was just Tori working on her project in every free second that she could catch.

Spending the mornings of the past week crunching for the Arts Fest project (that Tori’d totally not been neglecting, what were you talking about?) meant that she’d missed out on her mornings hanging out with Mikaela during breakfast, which 1) was disappointing and 2) had spared Mik from having to hear Tori’s lecture on why what she’d done at the lock-in was a terrible idea. She’d finally finished three of her eight short stories that she’d told herself she’d have done a month before the Arts Fest but was only now working on, though, which meant that Mik’s “lucky streak” of not having to hear Tori’s scolding was over.

Cue Tori sitting down at the table in the hall (their go-to meeting-and-eating spot) for the first time in a week with a plate of the Eggo waffles that she’d warmed up in the Home Ec room and beginning to lay into her breakfast bud about—

“Drunk. You seriously got drunk at a school function?” Tori stabbed her Egg with her fork, which made the styrofoam plate let out a pop! She glanced down to make sure that she hadn’t snapped her plate as she put the piece into her mouth, and then she looked over at Mik, a disappointed look on her face. “Literally, that has to be the stupidest thing. You’re locked in the school for a night, and you get drunk, steal the keys to they school, and run around like Gertrude Jenkins, the crackhead down the street. It’s a miracle your body hasn’t shut down from all of that toxic shit. Your liver is probably still in a crisis.”

“Come on Tori,” Mikaela responded, “don’t tell me you went to lock in and didn’t even have a sip of alcohol. It’s the night to let yourself go a little.”

“Yeah,” Tori said, forcing a smile, and then she abruptly dropped her face into a frown— “no.” She stabbed another piece of her waffle, then took a sip from her can of Coke Zero— which, yes, was the most healthy beverage to drink with your breakfast, unless you were anyone besides Tori. “Of all nights to let yourself go a little, the night where you’re trapped in the fucking school with all of the student body is not one. It’s a recipe for disaster and embarrassment, and literally— literally— one of the worst ideas on the planet.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re my friend, Mik?” she said. It was meant to be a statement, but it came out like a question. “Friends don’t let friends make total idiots of themselves.”

Mik went to drink, and then she lowered it with a mild look of disgust. Tori poised an eyebrow up, cracking a smile. “Why do you always get coffee when you literally hate it?” she asked, and she went to grab the extra Coke from her bag. She sat it down in front of Mikaela, sighing dramatically.

(Okay, it was fine for Mik to drink just this morning.)

“Anyway aren’t you a woman of the world?” Mik asked. “Great knowledge, plenty of experience?”

“Yes, I am,” Tori said, taking a sip from her Coke. “Your point?”

“Surely you don’t mean to say you disapprove of others trying things out and adding to their own experiences,” said her friend. “Besides, putting aside the fact that I nicked the keys to the school and locked some people out. I’m sure everyone else got up to some kind of trouble as well.”

Tori eyed Mik, pursing her lips. “I—…” She crossed her arms, studying the dark-haired girl for a moment. “Hmpf,” Tori huffed.

Mik had a point.

Tori sighed. “Fine, whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Still stupid mistakes but whatever.”

Mik spooned a mouthful of scrambled eggs into her mouth. “You know the details of what I got up to at the lock-in. Now it’s your turn to share. What experiences did you add to your collection?” Mik asked with a smile.

Tori’s own smile spread across her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said in a singsong voice, finishing up her waffle and beginning to dig into the next one. She looked at Mikaela, trying to hold back her smile. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you, if you really twist my arm.”

Mik was totally bursting at the seams to hear it— even if you couldn’t really see it or tell it— and why wouldn’t she be? Tori had the best stories to share. Picture-perfect teen dream life, obviously.

“New hottie, Ezra Gray?” Tori said, poising up an eyebrow and smirking proudly. “Yes, well, he and I were friends before he and his brother left a couple of years ago…aaaand...well, let's just say that we...hung out in his car." Her lips curled into a smile, her brow lowering. "Won’t tell you what we did, of course.”

They literally just talked, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, and, like…after that was done, I came back in and…” She shrugged as she trailed off, trying to think of something else that would— “Yeah, fine, I took a drink or two of someone’s strong stuff, but no, I didn’t go wild and crazy because I can actually handle my alcohol. And then me and some dude I’ve never met made out.” She shrugged. “I don’t even think I could tell you what he looks like or his name or anything.”

Did she drink? No. Tori’d never even taken a sip of alcohol a day in her life.

Did she make out with a rando? Absolutely the fuck not.

But Mik didn’t know that— and she also didn’t need to.

“So it was a good night,” Tori said. She rolled her eyes. “Lost my sister, too,” she added.

That much was the truth.




mood
talking

location
a table in the hallway

outfit
white & grey





playing...
be nice to me
by the front bottoms​




mentions
ezra & beth

interactions
mikaela

tags
Xed Xed


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:
Kian Phelan
@lockandkian has set their status to:
you want my help?

@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
colour in kian's closet? never heard of it

@lockandkian has set their location to:
school hallyway

@lockandkian has mentioned:
Lucky, Javi

@lockandkian has interacted with:
Amy

@lockandkian has tagged:
Kitsune2202 Kitsune2202
Lucky and Javier were so fucking cool.

No, cool wasn’t the right word. There was too much strange energy between them for them to be certified cool guys. Sure, they were probably cool on their own, but there were simply too many oddities in the group for them to actually be cool. But what cool guys try to hook up with people by asking them through gifs? That right there dropped them like fifty cool points. Lucky had more cool points in Kian’s books, though he seemed a bit quiet. Kian would describe him more chill rather than cool but if he just got out of his shell, maybe Lucky could actually surpass Kian’s own coolness.

Okay, tangent over, Kian is not about to start sounding like Trevor. Javi and Lucky, yeah they were pretty cool in general.

Kian was fucking stoked when he was invited to go to one of Lucky’s mic nights and even more stoked when, after the performance, they made the general decision to form a band. How one accidental jam session turned into a whole band being formed, Kian wasn’t entirely sure, but they had met up multiple times to work together on new music. Sure, they didn’t have a name yet and bands clearly need a name, but that would be a problem they faced before they performed at Art Fest together.

Honestly, it would’ve been a great disservice to the music industry if they hadn’t decided to team up. The three of them sounded amazing together, unique yet familiar all at the same time. Plus, Kian had grown tired constantly performing by himself. So, the fact that he now had new bandmates to perform with made Kian incredibly happy. He was bound to be busy over the next few weeks leading up to the ever menacing Winter Arts Fest, fixing up hitches in lyrics and working with Lucky and Javi to make it all sound good. But being busy was just what Kian loved more than anything else.

Being busy meant that he had less time to himself. Less time to himself meant less time to think. Less time to think meant less reason to use. Less reason to use meant less reason to think and thus, the cycle completes itself.

Kian really didn’t want to think about anything other than music. He didn’t want to think about stupid fucking Damien and his new stupid fucking aversion to Kian using again. He didn’t want to think about how he was letting everyone down again. He didn’t want to think about Oates. He didn’t want to think at all.

Not thinking was really easy when one is high which is why, similarly to lock-in, Kian had shown up to school high. On what, you may ask? Kian didn’t have a clue but whatever it was, it was fucking delightful.

Kian was having a difficult time thinking straight and actually processing the sounds coming at him when a girl who he believed was at Lucky’s open mic night.

"Hey! Kian right?" The girl in front of him asked. "Can I ask you something?"

Oh shit. Did she really want to ask him something? What could she want from Kian? What was her name? Who was she?

“Oh uh,” Kian stammered, blinking the calmness back into his face as he forced a smile. “Yeah sure! What’s up…” Kian paused, searching his brain for her name. “Amy, yeah?”

º º code by ditto º º
 






trevor callaghan​


Ash’s eyes widened. "Were we…were we supposed to hangout?" Her voice was quiet.

Trevor’s smile dropped from his face.

You gotta be fecking kidding me.

"I ah...I didn’t…I forgot— I thought it was another day or, or something, I umm...”

He sighed, leaning back against his seat and looking away from her and out his windshield. He put his hands on top of the wheel, rolling his wrists against the leather. “Oh, yeah,” he said, voice thoroughly unimpressed and unenthused.

“I kind of, like…,” Ash tried again. “I’m…Lucky…”

Trevor held back a groan at the name, squeezing his eyes closed.

“We’re supposed to, like, we’re umm…hanging out and practicing— like for the Arts Festival, after school, I…”

He looked over at her, his most convincing forced smile on his face, and he waved his hand dismissively. “Oh. Ah. Yeah…got it,” he said, adding extra inflection on his voice in an attempt to sound understanding.

He mostly just sounded pissed.

He wasn't pissed.

Not in the fecking slightest.

Being blown off by his girlfriend for fecking Fucky DuBallsack didn't piss him off in the least bit.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she said. “This whole…week has been weird, and umm…”

“No...,” he said, and then he heaved a long sigh, trying to make his smile brighter. “No, it’s fine. Don’t apologize. I get it." He looked away from her. “Arts Fest. Yeah. Busy, busy, busy.”

He at least didn't sound pissed this time.

Not like we've had that planned or anything. Nope.

Fecking Lucky.

Remember how he said that prick would ruin his mood? Yeah, his mood was plummeting by the second.

“But I can, like, probably hang out a different night instead,” she said. “It’s just…busy, because of Arts Festival, you know?”

Don't sound so fecking excited.

"No, I get it. It’s fine. We’re good. Not that I'm not disappointed, but I, uh, get it. I get it. I do,” he said. He sounded fairly genuine. He put on the smile again. “Arts Fest is coming up’n…I’ve got work to do on it, too. I don’t want you to have to…psh, neglect your Arts Fest project." He shook his head. "It’s fine, it’s fine. We'll hang out another time or something. After the Arts Fest is over or something."

God forbid that you spend one fecking night without the gobshite who’s only doing this project with you for the chance at getting in your pants— God fecking forbid that.

God fecking damn it.

Why did Lucky get to fucking spend time with Ash on the time when Ash had literally said that they were going to hang out? What was so important about him?

Oh, he was so special and so likable and soooo, soooo hot that he could make it his goal to make Trevor's life hell any time he got the chance and he could just fucking get away with it. Being a dick first, and now imposing on his time with his girlfriend. So what if the schmuck didn't know that Trevor and Ash were together? It was still a fucking personal attack.

And Ash...

Fucking blowing him off.

He got it if it was a sudden thing, but Trevor didn't do sudden things. They'd fecking had this date set. She'd said that they'd hang out. It was a thing.

You have got be fucking kidding me.

He pushed out of his van before he ended up saying anything more than he should, stuffing his keys in his pocket.

Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ Almighty.

He could feel a headache coming on.

He slammed his door harshly, causing the vehicle to bounce and the window to rattle in response.

He wasn't pissed. He was fine.

He just shut the door like that because...the moment called for it.

Yeah.

That.

He put a hand to his forehead and clenching his jaw for a second before moving around to the front of the vehicle.

“I’m good,” he clarified unnecessarily, smiling in his uncomfortable way.

The good thing was, even his genuine smiles looked somewhat uncomfortable, so maybe she couldn’t tell it was false after all.

He began to make his way inside alongside his girfriend-who-absolutely-was-not-his-girlfriend-or-interested-in-him-in-the-slightest-on-school-grounds, sighing deeply.

Welp.

Today was good for about twenty minutes.

Longer than he figured. He'd give it that.

“By the way,” he started, trying to clear that tension away, tone light in a forced way, “how is that going?” He looked over at her, smiling. “Your Festival project, I mean.”

Your practice sessions all nice and slow?

His head pounded.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Just.

Stop.

Fecking.

Thinking.




mood
😀

location
the parking lot, on the way into the school

outfit
something casual





playing...
the funeral
by band of horses​




mentions
lucky

interactions
ash

tags
Winona Winona


º º code by ditto º º
 
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