smarty0114

BHHS: Limitless

Timestamp: Between homeroom and first period
Levi “Hot Shit” Green-Locke and Sully “Not Shit” Harper
A @smarty0114 and @Aces Away collab

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As the hour ticked by, the October air warmed, and Levi decided it was time for him to rejoin the throngs of students that would soon be heading towards their next class. The day was hardly done, and even though he would’ve rather walked a mile wearing nothing but polyester, he did have a Physics class to attend. He stood, and brushed off his pants, always keenly aware of every speck of dust or dirt that threatened to mar his carefully crafted appearance. His steps were slow, and measured, striding with a confident posture, wearing a cold and callous affect that had become second-nature by now.

If it seemed like he’d practiced, it was because he had. Every night when he was twelve years old and held by the throat by the iron grip of his own hormones, he walked back and forth infront of his mirror. He wasn’t born with Andy and Celeste’s confidence. In those early days, he was timid, perpetually clinging to his sister’s sleeve. He could learn to project that confidence, though. He was determined to. He straightened the slouch that everyone but him seemed to notice, over and over and over again until he had crafted the ‘Levi Suit’ he wore so well.

The quiet of the outdoors was pierced by the shrill ringing of the school bell, ushering the BHHS student body onward to their next class. Levi pulled open one of the heavy metal doors and reentered the jungle he so dutifully helped oversee. He folded his sunglasses onto the collar of his shirt, and smiled as he parted the sea of red and black with a simple wave. Moses didn’t have much of anything on him.

He walked down the hall, smiling to himself as he drank in the adoring gazes and vengeful glares. They were jealous of him, his proximity to Naomi, his looks, his money, his everything. He was prepared to keep on his way, uncaring, until someone caught his eye. He almost ignored the tug in his gut, before pausing in his procession down the hall. It wasn’t easy to catch his eye, harder still to keep his attention. Sullivan Harper, though he might’ve been unaware, had managed to do both. No, he hadn’t been stalking his TikTok. The algorithm just did that. Like the serpent moving through the Garden of Eden, Levi slithered over to where Sully was quietly taking a textbook from his locker. He shooed the freshman standing next to him away, and leaned against the wall of lockers as Butler watched. “I know you, don’t I?”

Sully hadn’t been paying any attention as the crowded hall behind him pressed back and shifted. It wasn’t important, usually just some hotshot making their way down the halls and people reacting like they were royalty. Well…Sully supposed that technically some of the kids here were royalty, but jesus, dude, they all went to the same school. Sully didn’t like to cause scenes, but he also wasn’t one to move unless asked properly or forced, and it hasn’t failed him since. The freshman from this morning was babbling her thanks to him once more from the other side of his opened locker, her face completely blocked by the painted metal door as he freed his Physics textbook from within its depths. He barely registered when she went silent and disappeared, now focused on making sure his cig boxes didn’t get crushed under the book being added to his bag. When someone new addressed him before he even realized the previous conversation had ended, Sully let out a heavy sigh and closed his locker door to see the face that had been hidden behind it.

By the sudden wide bubble of space around them in the crowded hall, and the grown ass man standing a couple feet away, anyone in school would be able to tell that the person talking to him was a Green. Sully was at least that aware of his classmates and surroundings. He didn’t even need that, in fact, because Levi was a part of the theater kids and had done his fair share of trying to dictate Sully in his building process freshman year before they all gave up when they realized he didn’t listen to them. What he didn’t understand is why the boy was here in front of him, or why he opened with such a stupid line. Sully was still trying to process the whole indentured servant thing from earlier and seeing the one Green was making him think of his deal for the party he made with Ethan. He was really hoping he’d have a chance to smoke a cigarette and gather his thoughts before this next class, but that chance was getting slimmer and slimmer the longer they stared each other down. So Sully relented, if only a little, as he dropped his arm from his closed locker door and swung his backpack onto his shoulder, looking up at the taller boy past the bill of his cap.

“Sully. I’ve been buildin’ your theater sets for the past three years?”

Levi wasn’t used to anything other than reverence when he made introductions, not here at least. Sully’s answer pierced the veil of confidence he wore, ever so slightly. His smile twitched but did not fall. “I’m sure you’re right, but it’s not that.” His fingers drummed a slow rhythm against the painted red metal. “You do the Morning Show too, don’t you? You’re the cute little one in the middle.” He looked down at Sully with the eyes of someone who was accustomed to getting the things he asked for. “I’m Levi, but you knew that,” he said, his voice softer than satin, and just as likely to suffocate you. “I like the hat. Looks good on you.”

Little? Sully thought, a flash of distaste making its way across his face before he contained his expression again. I’m literally average height. It wasn’t Sully’s fault he had to crane his neck up to look at the boy towering over him, not everyone could break the six foot ceiling with their final growth spurt. Ethan was tall too but not as tall as Levi, and at least the hockey player hadn’t called him little. Sully tilted his head in confusion at Levi when the boy complemented his hat, almost going cross eyed to stare doubtfully at the frayed bill covered in mechanical stains. He didn’t know a lot about Levi in particular, but he knew enough about rich people and their tastes to know that the guy was lying about liking his hat.

“Dude, it’s a plain red hat from the Goodwill, are you sick or somethin’?” Levi was acting weird. The fact that Sully was aware of how Levi was acting at all was weird, because that meant Levi was interacting with him. And why was he towering like that? Someone being so in your face was different when they were smaller like Rye, but something about the way Levi leaned into his space had him swallowing nervously. Levi was probably trying to lead up to something, right? And his ma didn’t raise him to be rude right off the bat, so when Sully realized what he had just said he frowned and looked away, fingers flying up to fray the brim of his hat even more with his constant fidgeting. “Sorry, I ain’t mean nothin’ by that, I just don’t- like- why are you here?” He tried again, and that certainly sounded better than asking the boy if he was sick because he decided to talk to him. “Are you tryin’ to get me to announce somethin’ on the show for you? ‘Cause I don’t get to write the script. Ion’t think I even know who writes it.”

Okay, okay, so his first approach wasn’t working. He hadn’t been prepared for that. One of the many downfalls of buying into your own hype. That was fine. He could adapt. Probably. “I could’ve been meaner about it, but I’m prepping for a new role. Man of the people,” Levi said, grinning but refusing to elaborate. “I wanted to make sure you and your friends heard about Ethan’s party tomorrow. It’ll be the best one of the year until Naomi decides to one up it.” If anyone asked him, this was what Jamie got for trying and failing to beat him at his own game. It certainly had nothing to do with his almost pathological habit of finding the poorest kids he could, and trying to give them a taste of the Green lifestyle.

“I already told Ethan yes,” Sully responded in exasperation, now worried that he’d be getting a visit from a different Green every couple days now. He wasn’t really a fan of the idea. Sully took his hat off and ran his hands through his wavy locks, trying to stall so he could find himself and Levi’s intentions, because it didn’t feel right the way the taller boy was talking. He looked up again, now free of the hat, and met Levi’s piercing blue eyes for the first time. “Was I not clear?”

Levi could practically hear the whoosh as his flirtations went over Sully’s head. God, had he lost his touch? “I’m sure you’re a lot of things, but unclear doesn’t seem to be one of them,” he said, tilting his head ever so slightly. Most people were desperate for Levi’s approval, or terrified of him. Sully was neither, and it unsettled him. If anything, he seemed confused. Levi wasn’t exactly used to a challenge, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy one. He’d figure out the angle soon enough. He simply had to. “I’m just…doing a friend a favor. I know Jamie was really hoping to see AJ there.” He smiled. “Maybe someone’s hoping to see you,” he offered alongside a shrug.

“O…kay?” Sully faltered, the memory of what he overheard from Trixie and Jamie’s conversation this morning coming back to the surface. The blonde boy had said that he and AJ were hooking up again, so he supposed it made sense, but wasn’t Rye supposed to be hanging out with AJ at the party? Things still weren’t adding up, but Sully didn’t have the energy to chase the puzzle pieces and he hadn’t had a cig in hours so he wasn’t settled enough to try and put those pieces together even if he did manage to grasp them. He could feel his jaw clenching and realized he was grinding his teeth, so he quickly reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out two suckers, offering one to the other boy after he unwrapped his own and put it in his mouth. “Want one? And is this some set up? Someone hopin’ to see me sounds like a date, I thought I was just supposed to be chillin’ with Andy. I was even told I could bring my DS.”

Interesting. Since when did Andy have friends? Andy, who’d been even more timid than Levi growing up, was a lot of things, but a social butterfly wasn’t one of them. Jamie Callaghan did not have a patent on being nosy at BHHS. Levi just didn’t feel the need to flaunt what he heard, unless he stood to benefit. If you were feeling generous, you could call it familial responsibility; if you were being realistic, you might call it an obsessive need to look under every stone, to know every secret. Regardless, his interest, still on the rise despite Sully’s staggering oblivion, had begun to crescendo. Why was Ethan personally inviting this boy to the party? Why was he suddenly hanging out with Andy, and most importantly, why the fuck could he not tell that Levi was desperately trying to find a way into his pants?

“Thanks,” he took the candy, deft fingers removing the wrapper and placing it onto his tongue. His lips curled back into a smile around the white stick. He decided to eschew the coy words in favor of the only thing Sully seemed likely to understand. “The someone is me, and it can be a set up, if you want it to be.” He twirled the sucker in his mouth. “I do try to be a better time than a game of Pokemon with my cousin.”

“I was gonna play Nintendogs, actually,” Sully answered honestly as he watched the other boy swirl the sucker around. He blinked a bit when the other parts of Levi’s comments registered and for a moment the confusion behind his eyes seemed to clear a bit. “Oh, are you hittin’ on me? Is that what this is?” Sully stared at the boy, his eyes alight in surprise. Levi’s more direct wording was certainly effective, as Sully finally seemed to get to the point, but that didn’t stop him from now having a few more questions about the whole matter. A bit of heat in his cheeks, because regardless it was flattering that someone would waste their time hitting on him, Sully apologized, “I- I don’t, uh, sorry but I don’t even know who I like? Or- what I like? I doubt I’m your speed, dude, even with how high I’m gonna be at the party.”

Oh, well that explained it. Levi could continue to feel assured in his charms, for this was just a boy who had not figured it out yet. Now that, he was used to. He might’ve hated science, but he loved experimentation. “That is most definitely what this is,” he said. “And I wouldn’t be so sure. My versatility is astounding,” and then, as though to prove it, “What dog?”

Having been asked a question he finally has an answer to, about something that he genuinely enjoys, Sully visibly perked up. He didn’t really quite follow the versatility comment, sounded like something Rye would say so probably more flirting, but he certainly understood the question ’what dog’. His shoulders unhunched from their wary position and fell back as he straightened out and he met Levi’s eyes for the second time in their conversation, pulling his orange lollipop out of his mouth so he could speak properly, twirling the weighted stick around his fingers like it was a pencil as he spoke.

For the first time since Levi came up to Sully, the shorter boy was genuinely engaged.

“I got my two retrievers and my german shepard, Birch, Beech, and Hickory, in the hotel right now while I work on trainin’ and buildin’ up my boxer and husky,” They were all fine and well at the doggy hotel, and Sully had an obsessive streak when it came to taking care of and training the new pixels in his possession while also being attached enough to the old ones that he couldn’t just donate them out. The first three dogs had won all the competitions he sent them through and he was letting them rest like the champions they were. “My husky Pine has already won first up to the master class, so two more to go, and Oak is pretty good in the obedience trials considering how stubborn he is. He’s more fun just to play with than to compete with, honestly.”

Sully stopped spinning the stick of his candy and popped it back into his mouth now that his piece had been said clearly, willing to talk past the treat unless he was going to be speaking quite a bit. It was unlikely, he wasn’t much of a talker when the cameras were off, but Levi had managed to peg one of the few things that could get him rambling if he wasn’t careful. Dogs and- by extension- the different types of wood they were named after. Pushing the candy into his cheek with the stick popping out of the corner of his mouth, Sully tilted his head and asked the other boy- whose height would probably have hurt his neck if he’d tried to keep eye contact with him more than twice in this interaction- his own question in return.

“Do you have it? I’m usin’ like, the original DS because I found one at the thrift store and got it workin’ somehow. Thing could honestly go any day now, one of the screens flickers every other boot up,” That totally didn’t make him anxious, didn’t upset him that one day he was going to wake up and the black screen of the handheld device would remain as such, that he’d have to go on another scavenging expedition in hopes of finding the piece he could fix on the damn thing. The more…technological aspects of things tended to have the boy going to Monarch for help- funny, given he was the streamer- and she’d already warned him that once this one goes dark one more time it is likely its last. Sometimes, oftentimes, especially in times like when his DS is faltering or he’s feeling extremely lost in his own mind fog, Sully wished they could get a real dog for the house. Pixels could keep you company but they couldn’t keep you warm, couldn’t ground you with soft fur and a rising chest to remind you of reality when you started to fade away. The pixels, if anything, made it easier for him to fade away instead of fighting to engage and stay engaged when it started to wear on him.

Alas, for someone like Sully, money and time were an issue, and there never seemed to be a right time to get a dog with how the house is often empty of anyone for twelve hours at a time. Sully could never do that to a living being, no matter how much he wanted a man’s best friend.

The change in Sully’s demeanor spurred Levi forward. “I used to. I, uh, I had a yorkie named Zordon,” Levi said, mask slipping for just a moment. “I was going through a Power Rangers phase,” he explained. “God, who even knows where that old thing is. It’s been years since I touched it,” As though he needed to distance himself from this peek back into his childhood. He pictured Sully tinkering with a battered piece of tech, or restoring one of those antiques he’d seen on his feed, half amused, half amazed. Levi wouldn’t be able to salvage something if his life depended on it. He used things up and threw them away, a consumer in the truest sense.

A sharp vibration against his thigh cut through his thoughts, and he pulled his phone from his pocket, eyes locking onto Naomi’s message. He grinned, and checked the time, all too aware that the passing period was not infinite. “Where are you headed after this?” he asked, returning his attention to the boy before him.

“Damn, maybe I should have named my dogs somethin’ sick like that,” Sully mused, responding to Levi’s glance of authenticity much better than anything the boy had tried before. He checked his battered old watch when Levi had reached for his phone and realized the same thing as the other- time was running out. He ran his tongue along the candy in his mouth as he gave one last mourning thought to having a cigarette before class and responded to the tall blonde. “If you ever find it, maybe we can play together,” Sully made to put his hat back onto his head, realizing they would be moving soon. “I’m headed to physics, you?”

Levi pushed himself back into his usual posture, the cat with the canary. This wasn’t going to be easy, but everybody was always telling him that the best things in life weren’t. He supposed that applied to boys as well. “It’s your lucky day. So am I,” Levi said. “Walk with me? You can tell me why all your dogs are named after trees,” he offered, taking a step back into the center of the hallway.

I don’t really get what’s lucky about that. Sully thought, but let it go. Levi’s movement reminded Sully of the bubble the boy created around him as he watched the few straggling students all but jump out of the tall boy’s way when he moved. Jesus, that was still ridiculous. Sully looked over to Levi’s butler before looking back at him and carefully falling into step as they headed off to the class that they apparently had been sharing this whole time. Who knew?

“D’you know how often I have to look at different types of wood? I’ve got plenty of knowledge in that area,” The DIYer asked, completely unaware of the double meaning he’d just provided, mind already wandering a bit to his and Ethan’s future trip to the hardware store. Some nice solid lumber was definitely on his list. “Just figured it would be an easy theme to follow if I ended up gettin’ several dogs, it was and I did,” The candy clacked lightly against the back of his teeth as he rolled the stick between his fingers before he bit down harshly on the remaining bit and tossed the stick away in the trash under the next water fountain they passed. “Guess I could have gone with car parts or types of tools, but at least wood is from a beautiful thing in nature first, right? Trees are nice.”

“Fair enough,” Levi said, politely ignoring the accidental double entendre. “I named my cat Blanc, ‘cause he’s white, but if anyone asks, I just tell them I’m a big fan of Knives Out.” He had learned a long time ago that life was just a collection of different roles, and the hard part was figuring out when to bring each one out. Some wanted him to be everything they built him up to be, the spoiled, trust-fund baby who excelled at everything. Others wanted him to be exactly that, but with the caveat that he failed at everything; it made them feel much better about themselves. Still, there was a contingent that wanted him to have untouched depths that they could explore, the rich boy with a heart of gold. He figured Sully was of the latter group.

The truth of him, the Levi beneath the suit, lay somewhere in between these ever shifting roles, but that was for him, and him alone. These shows of vulnerability were calculated displays, an almost militant effort to retcon his life into something at least halfway normal. Sully (and the rest of the world, quite frankly) didn’t need to know that his cat’s name came from a childhood obsession with Percy Shelley, born from long days in the Green-Locke library.

“It leaves something to be desired in terms of theme, but it fits.” He finally crunched down onto the candy in his mouth, tossing the stick into a nearby trash can. “Where’d you learn all that shit anyways? About the wood, I mean? Is there a class I missed?”

“Well I mean, there are woodshop classes at this school, dude,” Sully answered with a raised eyebrow, pulling one of the pencils Oli had gotten him out of the pocket of his outer shirt and started fiddling with it, sending the plastic wingnut up and down its spiral at impressive speeds. With a chance to speak about his mother, Sully didn't hold back. “But no, my ma likes to upcycle so I learned what I could from her and my uncle Del when I was a kid. She was always makin’ such cool shit and I always wanted to help her so I had a tool in my hand and knew their names and uses before I could ever use ‘em myself. It ain't that hard to retain when you learned it young, and Ma made sure I knew what I was doin’ once I did start usin’ them,” Sully thought back to one of the first projects with his mom, where he'd overestimated his first hammer strike and smashed his hand with the head, crying from the shock before realizing it hadn’t hurt. His mother had picked up the faux, foam headed tool from where Sully had dropped it and plainly stated that that was why you were careful and calculated with tools, and you knew what you were holding before you used it. It wouldn't always save you from pain or mistakes, but it saved you a helluva lot of stupid injuries. “What I didn't learn from them I picked up from harassin’ the other guys scroungin’ ‘round the scrap yard, or at community workshops once I got a little income for it. Most of it was just learnin’ things hands on though, y'know? Summer jobs in construction and shit. I'm good with my hands and they pay me shit rate under the table since I'm a minor.”

Levi stared at this boy he did not understand, and forced a smile. He had two moms, and still, he wasn’t sure he could remember them teaching him much of anything. Not like that at least, and never without the looming threat of their disappointment. Sully’s words reflected the absence back at him, and it stung. Monarch was right. You are a masochist. he thought as they approached the physics room. “Hmm. I didn’t realize anyone actually learned anything in those. My ex just used it to make me a shitty piggy bank.” He laughed at his own story and pulled open the classroom door, holding it for Sully. “After you.”

“Okay but was it functional as a piggy bank?” Sully asked, not quite seeing the problem. “Also that sounds more like a pottery paintin’ thing, it’s a bit different. Thanks,” He acknowledged the other boy holding the door from him, tapping the blonde’s bicep lightly with his fist as he passed. Ever one to encourage people to learn new things, new trades that can make them self sufficient- hell, that was his whole schtick on social media- Sully gave his confusingly prospective new friend an offer. “I’m assistin’ in teachin’ a juniors class at the community center next week if you wanna see what the simplified course is like. You’d be surrounded by kids though and I’d be up helping the volunteer the whole time. Maybe you’ll wanna build somethin’ yourself after you see how easy it is to make a birdhouse.”

“I can confidently say I’ve never done that before,” Levi said. He took a moment to ponder if a bit of fun and potential campaign inroads were worth a smashed finger. It was. “Sounds like a date.”

“Oh,” That had not been what he meant, but Levi seemed happy about the idea and Sully didn’t really find himself caring what he called it. It’s not like anything date-like could happen in a community center class. “Okay, sure!”

BHHS: Limitless

@Fabricant451 BAM! Accepted!

BHHS: Limitless

_{TIMESTAMP: Just after “Typecast” and "A Brief Flash of Imperfection"
LOCATION: Bleachers
Featuring: Levi “Cui Bono?” Green-Locke & Jamie “Wow I Didn’t Know I Could Be Outsnaked” Callaghan}

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Despite the spot waiting for him in homeroom, Levi headed outside towards the football field, Butler close behind. He needed the air, even though he’d never admit it, and he wanted the peace and quiet. Besides, it was hard to tell Levi that he needed to be anywhere, when his name was being lended out to more buildings on campus than he could keep track of. He stormed up the bleachers, long slender legs sending clangs ringing out across the empty field.

Anger and panic were not unfamiliar to Levi. If he had been back at home, he would’ve had Butler find him something to break. Unfortunately, he was at school so Butler could only follow him outside, then stand and watch as Levi ground his teeth together and stared down at the football field from his perch atop the bleachers. Mr. Mackenzie’s words were still floating around his mind, taking a knife to his ego and cutting it into fine ribbons, almost as well as his mother did. He had four years of perfection under his belt, and now it was crumbling to ash and drifting off into the wind. Sure, he would be okay, but he didn’t want to be okay; he wanted to be the best. That’s what Green’s were, after all.

That’s what this campaign would be. He had fought tooth and nail to be…mediocre, apparently, but he still had time. He hadn't heard back from Naomi, but he’d already begun drawing up a mental list of artists to call later, to request mockup flyer designs. Busy, important people who would drop everything when the name ‘Green’ scrolled across their phone screen. Nothing but the best for him and his girl. He and Naomi would send Katie Callaghan running back to Scotty Boy, and maybe just maybe, he’d finally feel like his life hadn’t just been something that happened to him.

Levi’s musings were interrupted by the clang of shoes on the bleachers. Slow and smooth, his gaze trailed down to Jamie Callaghan, stomping his way up the metal steps. Great. Levi flipped his sunglasses down, and trained his eyes back on the field. “You’re disturbing my peace, Callaghan.”

Jamie came to a stop with a huff, his breathing faster than normal. Had he run here? “We need to talk.”

“Do we need to talk, or do you need to talk?” Levi peered down at the boy, bored already. Jamie was much more entertaining when he was being useful, and ever since their deal last year, he’d been decidedly less so.

The disgruntled, wannabe Anderson Cooper scoffed as he took a seat. “We need to talk because I’m calling in my favor.” Jamie looked up at Butler, wary. “Does he have to be here?”

Levi kept his face stoney. “Of course he does, he’s my emotional support Butler.” Levi could think of a thousand and one things that Jamie might want from him, all of them juvenile and hardly worth his time. Jamie, much as he liked to hide it, was driven by emotion in a way that Levi found exhausting. It was all so predictable. Two things motivated the boy standing in front of him: ambition, and insecurity. They were easy things to take advantage of, sure, and unlike Trixie, he didn’ balk at doing what he was paid for. Still, he was a tiring addition to his life, one that he might’ve regretted more, if he hadn’t been so damn effective. “Spit it out then, before all of your fucking energy starts to ruin my day.”

“Ethan’s party. I want AJ off the list.”

Levi smiled. Who would’ve guessed that Jamie and AJ would crash and burn like the Challenger? He had, for one. “AJ moved on? Shocking.” Levi’s voice dripped with cruel sarcasm as he finally turned to face Jamie. “Is the hickey someone else’s work then?”

“Shut up, are you gonna help me or not?”

Levi sighed, and leaned back against the chain link fence that enclosed the bleachers. “You know, I do love being of service, but this one’s out of my incredibly soft hands,” he said, waving into the air to prove his point. “It’s Ethan’s party, which means the guest list is not nearly exclusive enough, and not likely to get better. Trust me, if I had any sway over those, I’d have exercised it by now.” He shrugged, unfazed by the demand in Jamie’s voice. “Besides, cui bono? I don’t need beef with the Gearheads, not right now.” He figured he would never hear the end of it from Monarch if he tried to excommunicate her friends from anything, and truth be told, she scared him more than Jamie. Not to mention, he was a politician now. He couldn’t go banning a bunch of his constituents from his family’s vineyard.

Jamie didn’t seem to love that answer. His scowl deepened, his eyes narrowed. He looked cute when he was angry like this; if he’d been a stranger, Levi might’ve tried to sleep with him once upon a time. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a stranger, he was Jamie Callaghan, and he was so tightly wound that even Levi didn’t fancy the idea of taking a risk unwinding him. “Cui bono? Seriously? What did I do all your dirty work for if you were just gonna cui bono me? Figure it the fuck out, or I tell everyone what I know.”

Another grin broke out across Levi’s face. “And what exactly do you know, Jamie?” Jamie opened his mouth to respond, but Levi silenced him with a raised finger. “Here’s what I know. The only copies of those pictures are on a flash drive in your possession. The only editing that was done to them, was done on a school computer, in the wee hours, on one of your cute little Newsie’s accounts. The only proof you have, that I did anything to anyone, is your word against mine? Are you ready to take that risk?” Jamie stayed silent, stewing upon the realization that he had been outplayed. “So I think, if Amy Kwon’s name ever leaves your mouth, it should be followed by the words, ‘is a treacherous bitch,’ okay?”

“You did my dirty work because you wanted to do it, because it’s fun for you. Be real with yourself. The favor was just an added bonus, a slap on the ass on your way out. I’m not a genie, I don’t grant wishes.” He laughed softly before continuing, his voice overflowing with condescension. “You want more eyes on your paper, or a new boy toy, I’m your guy? This stupid, petty shit? No. Besides, getting AJ banned from this party won’t stop him from crashing it anyways. Or the next one. Or the one after that. You’re smart, you should know that.”

Jamie groaned, a sound of resignation that burst from his throat in place of the violent scream he wanted to let out into the ether. It was music to Levi’s ears; it was a symphony of defeat. “You’re right. Fuck. I just–”

Levi held a hand up, stopping Jamie’s divulgence in its tracks. “Stop. We aren’t friends, we’re business partners, and I don’t want to hear about how AJ makes you into an insane person. I’ve got plenty second-hand embarrassment just watching you.”

Jamie almost laughed. “Well, thank you for absolutely nothing, Levi, I’m so glad this partnership has borne such bountiful fruit. I suppose I’ll let you know when I have a favor worthy of your time.”

“Y’know, maybe if you didn’t sound like an encyclopedia with control issues, AJ would’ve stuck around. Just a thought.” Jamie got up to leave and as he did, Levi decided to offer up one more piece of sage advice, less out of any goodness in his heart, and more out of a desire to watch the world burn. “Best way to get over someone, is to get under someone new,” he shouted after Jamie, earning him an over the shoulder middle finger. He enjoyed a good laugh for his efforts. Ugh, he’d needed that.

“That seemed unnecessary.” Butler’s voice was stone cold, gravelly, the kind of stern voice you’d expect from a tall, well built man that was paid too much money to babysit a spoiled child. “You didn’t need to gloat.”

Levi snorted. “He thought he had something on me, Butler. I had to remind him who he was dealing with.”

Butler didn’t sigh. He didn’t need to. The silence spoke volumes.

BHHS: Limitless

_{@smarty0114 & @Hey Im Jordan
TIMESTAMP: Just before The Morning Show
The Halls
FEATURING: Jamie Callaghan & Owen Lyon}

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This was the first day of the rest of Owen Lyon’s life. He was free from the burden of reputation that followed him around in his past school, he had basically gotten to hit the reset button, and it was oddly freeing. Even homeroom, which he hated, seemed like something that he could easily overcome. That was why he strode up to the teacher with so much confidence, and handed her the paper he’d been given as part of his welcoming packet. Owen was being assigned a guide to show him around the school, which was something he desperately needed.

His last school had been a lot smaller, and a lot easier to navigate. Owen was already almost ten minutes late when he managed to make it to the homeroom class. After he talked with the homeroom teacher a bit and introduced himself, Owen was directed to Jamie’s desk. He walked across the room and stood in front of it, holding his right hand out to shake as he introduced himself.

“Hey, I’m Owen.” He slightly furrowed his brow, barely noticeable unless Jamie was paying close attention to his expression, and then he added after the briefest of pauses. Owen Lyon. You’re supposed to show me around the school for this period? The lady said the office told you.” Owen pointed at their homeroom teacher. The office, of course, had not said a damn thing to Jamie, but Owen slid a piece of paper across the desk that explained he was in fact telling the truth. Owen Lyon was, for the day, Jamie Callaghan’s ward.

There were better days for it.

Jamie looked up at Owen and tilted his head, lips pressed tight as he decided how much potential he saw in this new face. “Lyon. You’re Scott’s cousin.” He’d been doing a wonderful job ignoring the uncomfortable fact that his sister was dating AJ’s best friend, so of course the office sent his cousin to follow him around. “He’s about ready to elope with my sister, so I guess that makes us almost family. Which can be useful around here.” He finally decided he saw a good deal of potential, and stood to grab his bag. “They sent you to the right person, lucky for you. Let’s go, Owen Lyon, this place is way too big for its own good.”

He was glad to get out of Belmonte’s class after Decky, and the Jones’ abrupt exit, and he quickly led Owen back into the hall, letting out a sigh. He didn’t bother explaining where they were, or where they were going. Jamie wasn’t a map. He was, however, a trove of knowledge concerning the school’s social scene. Consequently, his tour was less about locations, and more about the dangerous creatures you might meet along the way. “So, like, what does Owen Lyon do? What’s your thing? You’ve gotta have a thing or you’ll just drift the halls alone like a sad, teenage ghost.”

Owen followed Jamie as he stepped out of the room, listening to him talk. It was about forty seconds into Jamie talking that Owen realized he’d been paired with a classic yapper. “Uh, teenage ghost doesn’t sound too bad to me. I had a bad time at my last school… so I’m sort of hoping to just skate under the radar?” He presented it as a question, as he wasn’t sure that skating under the radar was something that could be done at BHHS. Between what his dad and uncle had said, and what this guy was already saying… he wasn’t about to hold his fucking breath, that was for sure. “Scott and I aren’t really close, but my dad said I should try to hang out with him. He made it sound like this place is like, an active warzone.”

“I don’t really have a thing, by the way. I go to the gym, and I train a lot. I played football in my other school, but I’m not interested in trying out here.” Owen explained, hoping that Jamie wouldn’t dig too far into what he was saying. He didn’t want to cross that particular bridge quite yet, but he was trying his best to be sociable. “My parents and I are re-opening the gym my dad went to when he was here, so I’m thinking that’ll take up most of my time anyway.”

Jamie studied the boy next to him, curious as to just how genuine this kid was. Genuine people tended to mix poorly with the kids here, for better or worse. “Scott’s fine, but his friends suck,” he said, all too happy to throw AJ’s name in the mud. “Under the radar is an option here, but that’s boring, and you don’t seem boring. Broody, but not boring.” He sped up his pace and spun around so he could face Owen, walking backwards as he began to list off the potential safe havens for a new kid at BHHS. “You’ve got your classic band geeks, but that’s social suicide. If you smoke there’s the PLC for all your illicit substance needs, and if you’re serious about flying under the radar, the gamers like to practice there,” he said, pointing towards a closed door.

“You don’t seem like any of those though.” Jamie came to a stop in front of a large trophy case, filled with pictures of sports teams, past and present, and the myriad trophies that had been won for the school over the years. An empty space was reserved in the middle, where this season’s oversized golden cup was expected to eventually rest. “You, my friend, are an Elite.”

This was not the kind of tour Owen had expected. In his head, he’d imagined a quick trip around the school, a little ‘here’s the classrooms for the classes on your schedule,’ then bam, right back into the homeroom to finish up the day. Instead, he was getting the real tour of Beverly Hills High. To him, it almost felt like he was stepping into a TV show. “An Elite? What the hell even is that? It sounds like a boy band, and I ain’t no pop star.” Had he mentioned a PLC? Owen only knew PVC.

Owen shook his head as he could already feel that Jamie was trying to typecast him as a jock. He looked at the trophy case in front of him, and tried to defend himself before it became too late. “Dude, I’m really not trying to join a sports team. I get too competitive.” He hoped that Jamie wouldn’t pry any further, but every single fiber of his being said that he would. At least he hadn’t been Googled yet, though he could almost sense in Jamie’s aura that he would be shortly after this conversation. “What about you? What’s your group? I’m gonna guess it ain’t band geeks or the gamers.”

“They aren’t a boy band, unfortunately. And they aren’t all jocks,” Jamie said, quietly running through the mental list of Ethan Green’s band of brothers. It would be kind of nice if they could perform synchronized choreography to pop music, but alas, that was a fantasy for another day. “Okay, well, I guess that part’s not really true, but you don’t need to be a jock. They’re just,” Jamie let out a particularly perturbed sigh, “the ‘bros’, y’know? Not to typecast you or anything but like…is that not your thing? I mean, your parents own a gym.”

He crossed the hall and pointed at a poster advertising the school paper. “Trixie and I run the school paper, and keep track of everything that’s happening around here. Well, everything that matters. You can grab lunch with us if you want, but you don’t strike me as someone with a passion for journalism,” Jamie said. He crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Ethan thinks with his dick more than he should, but he’s not the worst person in the world.” He walked further down the hall, gesturing for Owen to follow. “What I’m saying is, you can either be a loser burnout, or you can put the biceps to good use and go get your parents some new gym patrons?” Jamie looked back at Owen with a smirk and a shrug. If he was being honest with himself, he needed a man on the inside of the Elite more than he needed Owen Lyon to survive his senior year, but sometimes you could kill two birds with one stone, and it always paid to get the new kid in your pocket. You never knew what tricks they might have up their sleeve. “Here, give me your phone,” Jamie extended his palm, tapping his fingers as though he had anywhere else to be.

Owen stared at Jamie as he held out his hand expectantly. Was this guy serious? Had Owen died and gone to hell? After Jamie asked for his phone, Owen didn’t hand it over. Instead, he focused on a particular part of what Jamie had said, “dude, are you hitting on me?” He asked, then looked down at his arm, absentmindedly tensing it slightly. They did look good, he supposed, but he wasn’t sure how to take what was happening then and there.

“Who’s doing the typecasting now?” Jamie replied, one eyebrow raised as he looked expectantly down at his empty hand. Owen was hot, Stevie Wonder could’ve figured that out. He was much too focused on a certain Gearhead however, and the events of thirty minutes ago, to even consider exploring that feeling. Besides, he knew a straight man when he saw one. “I’m making sure you don’t spend your last year of highschool as a complete and utter nobody. You will thank me later.”

He hesitated at first, and then thought back to his father’s words. BHHS was weird, and the number one rule was simply to not trust anyone. But where had trusting his parents ever really gotten him anyway? There was a hint of caution, but he dropped his phone into Jamie’s open palm.

“My gym’s not like… a weightlifting gym. It’s more for MMA, y’know? Self-defense. That kind of thing. You know anyone that might want to sign up? I can teach ‘em how to throw a mean 1, 2.” Owen quickly threw a couple of punches in the air, shadowboxing as if he were fighting with the very idea that he ‘belonged’ with the jocks. After he did so, he looked at Jamie almost as if he expected to impress the other boy with his half-hearted swings. “Are you a journalist? Cool. My last school didn’t have a paper.”

“Journalist, paparazzi, school’s biggest gossip. Pick your favorite I guess.” Jamie’s focus remained on the phone as he added two numbers. The first belonged to Ethan Green, and the second to Jamie himself. God, he really was starting to hand that out like candy. “Tell Ethan that I said he owes me one for not telling any of his girlfriends about eachother. He’ll get the hint,” he said, handing the phone back to Owen. “MMA?” He was hardly impressed by Owen’s shadowboxing, but he could still feel AJ’s breath on his neck and he took the bait. “You wanna teach me how to deck my ex-boyfriend? For legal reasons, I don’t think I actually want to. I just wouldn’t hate having the option.” He rubbed the mark on his neck, almost absentmindedly, and looked up at Owen. This was not his usual kind of friend, but this was not his usual kind of day, and the more he thought of it, the more he realized…he didn’t have a lot of fucking friends.

“Dude? Totally. I’ll text you the gym’s address, you can come by after? If you sign up for classes, you’ll probably be working with me. I can teach you how to throw a couple punches. Since you’re like… the first friend I’ve made, you don’t even have to pay. We have a discount.” Owen was making a hell of an assumption, but he could kind of feel it in the air. Neither one of them would normally socialize with the other, but fate seemed to have brought them together. And also, Owen wanted to make a good impression because meeting people was stressful and Jamie seemed connected enough to introduce him to a few different people. Including… the Elite, whoever that was. “For legal reasons, I can’t tell you to do it, but if your ex deserves it, they deserve it.” Owen opted to be gender inclusive, a little unsure of how he was coming off after the jab about typecasting. He didn’t mean anything by it! He just couldn’t help but notice when miring was happening. It wasn’t like he minded. What was the point of all the muscles if people didn’t look at them?

“Who’s Ethan?” Owen asked, looking down at the number in his phone. It was a bit weird to have someone playing friend matchmaker for him, but Owen was tentatively going to explore the option that Jamie was giving him. It seemed like the right thing to do, but that didn’t stop Owen from asking a second question. “Hey, if this uh, boy band tryout doesn’t work, you’re gonna teach me how to be a good journalist, right?” He grinned, and for the first time in a while, Owen found himself not feeling the weight of his past mistakes on his shoulders.

“Ethan Green. Lead singer of the boy band, so to speak. He’s throwing a party tomorrow, and you should be in attendance. ” He returned Owen’s smile with one of his own, more reserved, but still, surprisingly genuine. Another idea was beginning to take shape, featuring this new kid, his best friend, and some forced proximity. “The Newsroom is always open. You should talk to Trixie, she’s a much better teacher than me.”

Green? Owen frowned almost immediately after Jamie said the surname, as he recalled what his father had to say about that particular family. “Green? I don’t know about that one… my dad said everyone with the last name Green is evil.” He paused for a second, thinking about it to himself. What else had his dad said? “No, wait. He said the women were heartless demons and the guys are sometimes okay.” He shrugged, and pulled out his phone, quickly penning a text to the mysterious Green.

“Eh, it’s hit or miss. Ethan, Andy, and Diana? Safe to engage. Levi and Celeste? Keep your distance.” Jamie said, habitually looking over his shoulder to ensure they weren’t being overheard. You could never be too careful. “Which does bring me to the most important rule of surviving Beverly Hills High. Don’t piss off The Hive. Whatever mean girls you had at your last school pale in comparison to Naomi Davis.”

To: Ethan
yo, im new. my name’s owen. jamie suggested i text you
he said i need to be in attendance for your party tomorrow
he also said you owe him one for telling your girlfriends about each other

Owen dropped his phone back in his pocket, only then starting to realize how much blind faith he was putting in this guy he’d met only a few minutes ago. Unfortunately, there was no way for him to take it back, as the tweets were already flying over the airwaves. That only left one question burning in his mind, and Owen couldn’t help but blurt it out. “Trixie? She cute?”

Jamie smirked. He loved being right. “I’m sure you’ll decide that for yourself sooner rather than later.” He paused, debating just how hard he wanted to play this before deciding that he wouldn’t be a very good best friend if he didn’t take some risks. “But yes, she is.” Jamie’s next thought was interrupted by the slapping of shoes on linoleum, and the quickly passing figures of Levi Green-Locke and Butler. “Speak of the devil,” Jamie muttered, once they were out of earshot. “That’s Levi. Naomi’s red right hand.” Jamie took his phone out and checked the time. Perfect. “He doesn’t know it, but he’s got a meeting with me in ten minutes. You’ll be good on your own right?” He didn’t wait for confirmation. “Send me the address for your gym, and don’t flake on the party tomorrow. I’m your first real friend here, so you kind of have to.”

Owen had to admit, in his high school career, he hadn’t really had a friend do this much for him. He’d only known Jamie for a few minutes, but the other boy had already set him up with a party, a friend group, and was shilling a cute girl. This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, at least as far as Owen was concerned. Owen had been unable to do anything but stare as the pair of Levi and Butler walked past. He ended up not responding to Jamie’s question, or even acknowledging the request for the address - though that went unspoken.

“Does that kid have a bodyguard?”

Jamie gave a solemn nod. “Yeah, you’ll get used to it.”

BHHS: Limitless

_{TIMESTAMP: 7:30 AM
Location: Front Office
Mentions/Interactions: Naomi & The Hive @Fabricant451@Aewin@LovelyComplex@NeoAJ}

---

---

The Hive had descended upon the school with all the glitz and glamour they advertised. Truth be told, this was why he did it; for the attention. He relished every gaze that fell on him, gulping it down like it was the secret to everlasting youth. He was going to need it. As The Hive passed the front office, Levi bid them adieu. “I’ve got a meeting with Mr. Mackenzie. Indy, Angel, don’t let anyone take my seat.”

He didn’t offer up any more info than that. Indy and Angel had hardly proven themselves worthy of an explanation, Lottie would forget it in two minutes, and Naomi was more clued into his movements than anyone else at this school. She’d been there when he made the appointment with Mackenzie last week, a preliminary step before he began mailing in applications. This all felt like formalities wrapped in formalities; his last name would probably get him farther than any personal essay would. Still, he knew how to play the game, and he would not ever let it be said that he wasn’t any good at it. Not to mention, the guidance counselor had a good eye and he needed someone to look over his portfolio.

Butler followed him into the front office, down a narrow hall, and stood stoicly as Levi sat in one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs that had been bought and paid for with Green money. Butler followed him everywhere, always had, always would. He hadn’t been in Naomi’s car, of course. That would be ridiculous. He was following them at a safe distance in an unmarked, black sedan. Duh.

Four doors, spaced evenly down the hall, marked the different BHHS guidance counselors and their offices. Levi hadn’t bothered remembering the other ones. He’d been assigned to Mackenzie at the beginning of his freshman year, and he’d never been given a good enough reason to request a swap. He didn’t really like anybody, other than Diana and Naomi, and Lottie on a good day, but he tolerated Mr. Mackenzie, mainly because he was a good listener who was legally bound to keep his mouth shut.

Levi sat and waited, tapping his Italian leather shoes against the linoleum as the clock ticked forward. Five minutes, then ten, then fifteen. He was about to have Butler bang on the door when it opened and some poor little freshman came scurrying out, eyes freshly dried. Mr. Mackenzie leaned against the doorframe, dressed like a lumberjack with a thick, greying beard to match. He watched the girl leave, before turning to Levi with a warm, welcoming smile. “Levi, come on in,” he said, gesturing inside his office.

Mr. Mackenzie’s office was decorated with motivational posters (Levi’s favorite featured a cat and the words “Hang in there!” in bold font), bookshelves packed with tomes on psychology and self-help. His desk featured pictures of a happy little family in front of a quaint little house. The room was warm in a way that Levi found alien, but comforting. He figured that was the point. Butler took his place at the back of the office, and the counselor smiled. “Stoic as ever, Butler.” Butler nodded. “So, Levi. College applications. Can I ask you a question?”

“You’re going to regardless, right?”

Mr. Mackenzie leaned against his desk, still smiling. Did he ever stop fucking smiling? “What is it that you want to do?” Levi blinked. “I’m looking at your portfolio and…well, I’m not sure you’re giving me a very clear idea of who Levi Green-Locke actually is.”

Despite appearances, Levi was very accustomed to failure. He had lost MVP on his Little League soccer team every year until he finally quit, he’d always struggled with science and math no matter how hard he tried, and he’d been failing to win his moms’ approval for pretty much his entire life. He knew that feelings were reserved for after the conversation, in private. “Are you saying it’s shit?”

Mr. Mackenzie clicked his tongue. “Language. I’m not saying that. Technically, you’re very good at what you do. The pictures you used are compositionally great, it’s just…well, they don’t seem to say much. I know what these places want, and it’s somebody with a message.” The counselor threaded his fingers together and placed them on the desk. “They lack heart, Levi. Vulnerability.” Mr. Mackenzie opened a familiar binder and splayed out a series of pictures that Levi had taken. A picture of the ocean, taken from one of the family’s boats, and a series of shots from his summer trip around Europe. They were beautiful photographs, but they weren't anything special. Every queer kid with a camera and a way to get to Florence had taken a picture of David. “I mean, where do I see you, in these?”

Behind his eyes, a small star was exploding, boiling his blood. He clenched his jaw and his fists, desperate to keep his composure. “So…I should be taking pictures of my friends? Family? My adoption papers?” The indignance in Levi’s voice was unmistakable. He might’ve grown accustomed to failure, but he’d never grown to enjoy it.

Mr. Mackenzie leaned back, and offered up a measly, useless shrug. “Is that what you want to show off? I mean, comeon, art is about having something to say. I know I'm not the first person to tell you this. Do you even want to be a photographer?”

“I want to travel the world on my parents' Black Card.” This was not quite a lie. Levi, for all his pomp and circumstance, had no earthly idea where he’d be in ten years. Everyone else seemed to have been born knowing, while he had spent the last seventeen years trying on different hats, desperate to find one that fit. He’d been good on stage, he thought he’d been good behind a camera, but really, he just liked new things. New places, new people, new experiences. Everyone wanted him to go and be something, and he…well he just wanted…okay so he had no idea what he wanted.

“See, you’re sitting here, at 7:45 on a Friday, discussing this with me, so I have to believe that’s at least a little bit of a lie.” Well, he had him there. “You don’t have to know what you want to do right now. Most people don’t figure it out until years after high school! I mean, when I was your age, I thought I was going to be a lawyer.”

“And now, here you are, helping spoiled kids like me live out their dreams? I think a lawyer would’ve made more sense. Financially speaking.”

“I am really gonna miss that sense of humor, Levi,” Mr. Mackenzie said, with a tone that made it clear that he would not. “I’m just trying to say that, if you spend this time actually trying to figure out who you are, instead of pretending to be someone you aren’t, you might end up happier for it. What do I know, though? I’ve only got a masters in psychology.”

To his credit, Levi’s thoughts did not immediately jump to ways to get Mr. Mackenzie fired. Those would come later, and would likely fizzle out by the time he got home. His initial thought was, What the fuck does this guy know? followed by, Maybe a little bit. Levi stood up, collecting his bag with a huff. “Are we done?”

“We’re done when you want to be done,”

Levi spun on his heel. “Great, thanks for nothing.” If it wasn’t for the stupid little mechanism that forced the door to close slowly, it would’ve slammed behind him. He made a mental note to see if those could be removed. They really killed any dramatic exit.

“You’ll talk to him, Butler?” Mr. Mackenzie asked from his desk, as Levi stormed out. Butler nodded. “Good. He might actually listen to you.”

---

Stupid, stupid, stupidstupidstupidfuckingstupid. At a certain point, as Levi stalked down the now empty halls of BHHS, it became unclear if his thoughts were directed at Mr. Mackenzie, the school, the universe in general, or just himself. He wanted to be anywhere but these halls, he wanted to be anyone but Levi Green-Locke. He tugged at the collar of his shirt as his face began to heat up, and his breathing began to accelerate. What was he going to do, who was he going to be, how the hell was he going to get there? His heart pounded in his ears, his chest grew tight, like his body was betraying him and squeezing the air from his lungs. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. This was not happening.

He was vaguely aware of Butler coming up behind him and ushering him into the bathroom. At least someone is good at what they do, he managed to think. His fingers grew sore as he clung to the sink, white-knuckled and shaking with adrenaline. It took five minutes to clear his mind, five more to slow his breathing. The panic left as suddenly as it came, and he felt his body relax as it did. He looked up at his reflection, flushed and flustered, perturbed by this brief flash of imperfection. He fixed the strands of hair that had fallen out of place, adjusted his shirt, and wet his face, waiting for the redness to subside while Butler guarded the door.

As he stood and stared at his reflection, his posture straightened out, the anxiety was put away, and the unfiltered emotion on his face faded into his usual stonefaced expression. He was going to be perfect. Perfectly perfect. He dried his hands and glanced up at a flyer on the wall. “VOTE CALLAGHAN” was printed in large, black and red block letters. He paused. Katie had been talking about her student government campaign for a few weeks, though he’d mostly tuned it out. It hadn’t seemed important until now. A thin smile crept up his face. This was who he was.

To: Nomes 👑
Crazy idea, but hear me out. Let’s run for office.

BHHS: Limitless

_{@smarty0114 & @Hey Im Jordan
TIMESTAMP: 7:25 AM
BHHS Parking Lot
Introducing: Katie Callaghan & Scott Lyon}

Scott had parked his car near the back of the parking lot, near the G Spot (she hated the name, for the record, but AJ had denied all her formal requests to change it and she wasn’t sure it was worth it anymore) partly because he didn’t want anybody to ding his darling, but probably mostly because Katie didn’t like to make out at the front where the whole school could watch. She did have some class, after all.

Music poured from Scott’s speakers, but Katie wasn’t especially concerned with it. She was more focused on Scott’s lips on hers, and the nagging realization that her hair was going to be completely fucked. She didn’t care. When Katie had first gotten dropped off here, nearly four years ago, she hadn’t really envisioned herself becoming known for her (somewhat surprisingly) stable relationship with one Scott Lyon. And yet, here she was, making out with this beautiful boy while they listened to music her parents had loved. She wouldn’t have called it perfect, but it was pretty damn close.

You should probably tell him about the Juilliard interview, or else you’ll wait another two months, you big fat liar.

Okay, so it was maybe farther from perfect than she would like, but she didn’t want to focus on that. She shut her eyes tighter, leaned harder into the kiss, and pretended that highschool would never end.

Once upon a time, Scott had made a point of making sure his car was parked at the front of the row, near AJ’s. The first time he and Katie got a little hot and heavy in the car before school, AJ had only had to knock on the fogged up window once before Katie insisted that if he was going to get touchy-feely then they were going to park in the back where no eyes would pry. It was almost the very next day that Scott started making a habit out of parking in a dark corner where no one could see them.

Sure, no one could see his darling - but no one could see his queen either, which meant getting hot and heavy before school quickly became a habit. Scott was a young man, he was never going to say no. Even thinking it in his head, it sounded ridiculous. What? No, honey. I want to go into the school instead of seeing what your cherry lip gloss tastes like.

Still, they’d kissed enough times that Scott could tell when things weren’t quite right. Sometimes, kissing was a distraction; Scott had used it as a distraction many times over the course of their relationship, especially back when he was fighting with his father more often. He pulled away from the kiss, breaking it prematurely (which was a landmark moment for Scott). “Babe, are you okay?” Before Katie could protest, Scott hooked a finger in his own mouth and fished something out, eventually holding out a piece of gum on his index finger. “I wasn’t chewing gum.” He said, unable to hide the grin that crept on his lips as he teased her.

“Scott, what the fuck?” Katie said in between laughs. She’d gotten better than she should have been, at brushing off her boyfriend’s concern. She had her excuses, of course; her interview was hardly an acceptance, she didn’t want to tell him anything that wasn’t a certainty, she didn’t want to get her own hopes up. The list went on and on, but they were all just lies she told herself to feel better about her continued secrecy. The truth was that they had plans, plans that involved the Peace Corps and gap years and an apartment of their own. She didn’t want to be another person who abandoned him. She didn’t know if she even wanted to go to Juiliard, if she even wanted this life her mother had begun to lay out for her, but she knew that she didn’t want to hurt Scott. So she smiled and threw her brother under the bus.

“Jamie and AJ are back together. Well, not back together, I guess, but…y’know,” Katie said, gesturing into the air at the anomalous relationship that her brother and Scott’s best friend had developed. Jamie would be annoyed with her, but he would get over it. He was chained to her, whether he liked it or not. “It’s very hush hush right now, so don’t go telling the whole fucking garage. I’m just worried about them. Not everybody can be as perfect as us,” It worried her a bit, how easy lying had become. It really wasn’t much different than acting, she thought it was easier even. She looked down at the radio, saw that they had five minutes till the first bell, and leaned back in towards Scott, close enough that he could smell the lavender perfume she’d put on. “Are we going to keep talking about my brother, or are you gonna kiss me?”

Katie had a good point. It was hard to be as perfect as their relationship was, especially for two people who were very un-perfect in their own unique ways. Even so, Scott couldn’t help but think something was wrong with his girlfriend; losing your gum was a rookie mistake, and there was no way Katie was so invested in the relationship of her brother and his bestie that it would impact her kissing skills. She was a good actor - hell, Scott would even say she was one of the best. A future Oscar winner for sure, but that made it harder for him to take her at face value, when there were signs.

Internally, he took a breath and reminded himself that the last time Katie had done something hurtful toward him was in the 8th grade. They were a team now, and that meant he had to trust her. Which was a whole lot easier to do when she was telling him to kiss her, but Scott held out for a second longer. He had to choose his next words carefully, and there was a noticeable pause. He’d just have to trust her.

“Wait, wait, wait. Again?! Katie, we’re not babying them this time. When they break up AGAIN, which they will, I don’t wanna go on some wild goose chase across Los Angeles county to make sure AJ is fine. And don’t get me started on Jamie interrupting us because he’s petty that we’re happy.” Scott’s mood had soured a bit, a combination of thinking about the last time he had to deal with Jamie and AJ’s catastrophic breakup and that lingering thought in the back of his mind that there was something wrong.

Katie rolled her eyes and smirked, all too happy to believe that her tracks were covered. “When they break up, Jamie’s gonna owe me dinner at Nobu. Half because he’ll need it, and half because I like dinner when I do emotional labour.” She tilted her head, clearly proud of herself and leaning into it. “You don’t need to baby AJ, you’ll just have to like, take his phone for a day or two. Maybe introduce him to some new dick. Preferably one that comes with less baggage than Jamie.” She kissed him again, quickly this time, before pulling back and holding up a finger, a stern but playful warning. “Don’t tell either of them I told you, or I’ll hear about it and I’ll have to start carpooling with Jamie again until he’s not pissed.”

“Actually, babe, I do have to baby him. He’s very unstable,” Scott protested, but couldn’t fight the smile on his lips. One quick kiss and a teasing tone, and Scott very quickly remembered how wildly in love with this woman he was. She didn’t have to tell him then, but he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it - trust was the most important part of any relationship, and theirs had plenty. “I won’t tell a soul. Come on, Katie. You can trust me! I earned it when I jumped into the ice cold fucking ocean to pull you out.”

He leaned forward and gave her a kiss. “You can literally trust me with your life. And if you don’t agree? Next time you’re drowning in the ocean. Call Free Willy. Let Willy set you free.” Scott stole another kiss from his girlfriend without another word and then threw open the car door to step out into the outside world. Unfortunately, this was where they split off, unless Scott could convince her to meet him in the janitor’s closet for a quickie. He had about a forty percent success rate which… wasn’t that bad, all things considered!

“I can’t believe they split us up for homeroom. It’s targeted right? It has to be targeted.” Scott glumly pouted, unable to help himself. He and Katie had been together so long now that even the hours apart in the morning were agonizing. What was the point of coming to school if he didn’t get to hang out with Katie for the entire day?

“Babe, I’ve told you this, I can swim,” Katie said, while she checked her makeup and smoothed her hair using the reflection on her phone. “They’re just looking out for your academic future. Would you really pay attention to anything if I was there to distract you?” Katie teased, before stepping out of the car. She gripped her bag tighter, swallowing any anxiety that threatened to rear its ugly head. Confidence was just a mask, and it was one she wore well. She tucked her blonde curls behind her ear, and met Scott at the front of his car, squeezing his hand tight. “I’m running lines at lunch today, but I’ll see you for the rally?”

“You are so pretty, I literally didn’t hear a word you said. Was it something about me being distracted if you’re around?” He smiled and squeezed her hand, kissing her on the cheek before he nodded. “If AJ and Jamie are back together — again — you’d better be sitting with us at the rally. I can’t handle it alone.”

Katie smiled. How could she ever even think about doing anything other than kissing this beautiful, lovestruck boy? How could she ever even think about being anyone other than the beautiful, lovestruck girl who kissed him? “Of course. I wouldn’t be the best girlfriend ever if I didn’t, would I?” She smiled harder, even as the lie sank its teeth into her gut. She ignored the pain, and told herself she had it under control. This year was going to be everything she wanted it to be, because she was Katie Callaghan and she got what she wanted. “Let’s go kill this shit.”

BHHS: Limitless

_{TIMESTAMP: 7-7:30 AM
Location: Aunt Gina’s Aviary → Ms. Belmonte’s Classroom
Starring: Benjamin “Benji” Mayhew
Special Guest: Aunt Gina}

---

---

Benji Mayhew had grown awfully fucking tired of birds. He hadn’t felt that strongly about them before this year, in fact, he might’ve even had a soft spot for them. That was before he and his mom moved into his Aunt Gina’s house, and his mornings were filled with the endless tweeting of her birds. Thirty parakeets, named for different musicians Aunt Gina claimed to know (in the “Biblical sense,” as she liked to say) back in the day. He could hear them in the kitchen, he could hear them in living room, but most importantly, he could hear them in his bedroom while he was trying to get some fucking sleep. Gina said she liked the way it made her feel like she was living outdoors, and she didn’t appreciate Benji pointing out that she lived in a very expensive home made of concrete, steel and glass. The only outdoorsy thing about it was the smell of bird shit.

As he lay in bed, staring at bare walls and a floor still covered in half-unpacked boxes, he wondered if he was destined to end up like Aunt Gina: living alone in a big, cold house with a menagerie of animals that would probably eat him when he died. At least Aunt Gina had money. He’d probably end up working at Sunshine Diner for the rest of his life, surviving on tips and an inevitable cigarette habit.

The thought process had become something of a reoccuring anxiety over the last few months, but it had grown more relentless as the homecoming game approached. With barely twelve hours until kickoff, he felt sick, unable to escape the idea that he was going to fuck it all up. The Benji of last year wouldn’t have thought twice about potential failure. Now, the vision of his classmates’ disappointed faces was consuming him.

You could pull a Mom and just hide in this stupid house until tomorrow. Tell everybody you’re sick. Or dying. Or in jail.

He snoozed his alarm three times before he finally got up, put on his jersey and a pair of wrinkled black pants, and trudged out into the hall. He ignored the low thrum coming from his mother’s room, the tell tale sign of another sound bath. They’d become part of her morning ritual, an attempt at wellness that only made him raise an eyebrow and scoff at the ridiculousness that had taken over his life. Liana Mayhew had always been out there, but recent events had truly sent her spinning.

In the kitchen, Aunt Gina was dancing between a frying pan and a cutting board, humming along to Bob Marley while she slipped pieces of fruit to a bird on her shoulder. The bird chirped as Benji approached, hunting for something he could eat on the drive.

“George Michael said ‘Namaste, Benjamin,’” Gina said, setting down a large knife and spinning around to face him. Regina Lowe was one of those women who always wore a smile, even during a tragedy. Benji had always found it unnerving, especially when she got upset. She had a nervous energy that came off of her in waves, while also espousing the many benefits of her New Age spiritual practices. Benji found it hard to take yoga tips from someone who popped Klonopin when she thought nobody was looking, but he did his best to humor her.

“Namaste, George Michael,” Benji said, his tone so dry that you could hear his eyes roll. He didn’t consider himself an expert on social issues, but he did think there was something weird about white people from the Hills saying ‘namaste.’ He opened the fridge and gave it a cursory glance, praying that something good had found its way in there since he’d checked it last night. Nothing had.

“Here take this,” Gina said, pushing a cup of some mysterious greenish-brown liquid into his hands. He looked down at it, suspicious. He didn’t trust much of anything she made anymore, not after she served half-cooked chicken a few weeks ago. “It’s kale, beet juice, some ginger, cayenne, and pineapple.” Benji glanced down at the smoothie one more time before taking a cautious sip. Surprisingly, not the worst thing he’d ever had. xx

“Not bad,” Benji said, as he popped a piece of whole wheat bread into the toaster and set it to char. He would’ve loved to sit there in an awkward silence, but Gina didn’t understand the benefit of silence.

“Big game today! I put a few crystals in your backpack for good luck. They got their moon bath, so you don’t have to worry about any bad energy,” Gina said, returning to her breakfast. “I thought me and the girls from yoga class might come out for it, and cheer you guys on.”

Benji pursed his lips in between sips of his smoothie. His mother, unmentioned, hung between them like a ghost. “Is she going to come?” Benji said, gesturing down the hallway.

Gina sighed. “Your mom is just taking everything really hard.” George Michael chirped in agreement. “I don’t know if that’ll be the best place for her. You know how the Hills can be, right? We just got the reporters to stop hounding the house, I don’t know if we should give them more reasons to.”

“Yeah, no, of course,” he said, cold and detached. Benji knew exactly how the Hills could be, it was why he wanted his mom to come. While she had been stowed away from the tabloids and the socialites, awash in good vibrations and manifestation rituals, Benji had been forced back to the feeding ground where all the Hills’ spawn grew fat on rumors and scandals. Naomi and the Hive had iced him out of the social scene, Jamie and Trixie had blasted his dad’s indictment all over their socials, and his only saving grace was Ethan Green and the Elite. He was being eaten alive out there, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last. He was closer to college than elementary school, but his life was falling apart and he wanted his mom. “Guess the homecoming game isn’t the best spot for fucking meditation,” Benji huffed.

“Benji, I–” Gina’s consolation was interrupted by the toaster, and Benji took the opportunity to run. He chugged the rest of his smoothie, grabbed his toast and gave his aunt a quick side hug before making a beeline out of the kitchen.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said, before rushing out the door and hopping into his car. He knew it was an impossibility, but as he pulled away from Aunt Gina’s home, he wished for things to go back to the way they were six months ago, when his most pressing issue was who he’d be taking to junior prom. He and his dad still had one thing in common, at least: the two of them were both paying for his crimes.

Twenty minutes later, Benji pulled into his parking spot with only minutes to spare. Ms. Honeycutt, the school’s underpaid and overworked resource officer, was waiting out front, shaking her head as though she might be able to shame Benji into punctuality. He ignored her, the same way he’d done every morning, and rushed towards Ms. Belmonte’s class, thankful that at least people still moved out of his way when he came down the hall.

He took a seat in the back, with a spot next to him for Mac, and tried very hard not to imagine all the ways he could fuck things up tonight. He would be fine. Everything would be fine. Probably.

BHHS: Limitless

_{@smarty0114 & @Hey Im Jordan
TIMESTAMP: Between 7 AM & 7:30 AM
The local Quick Quack -> BHHS Parking Lot}

---

---

It was a Friday. Everyone knew what that meant. It was the day! The day was today, and today was the day. A day of a time honored tradition, spanning back to the very Friday Nicky Snyder had decided to anoint Dylan Hearst his one and only passenger princess. There was something special about their bond - they weren’t quite dating, but their bromance certainly transcended the regular friendships their peers had. For their whole lives, they had been homies, besties bound by the eternal flame of the never ending grind to ascend the ladder.

It sounded dramatic, but it was how Nicky would have said it if anyone ever asked him, not that they ever did. Nicky and Dylan may have been lightyears apart in skill, but that didn’t change the fact they were two peas in a pod. The most dynamic duo in the history of dynamic duos - it was a common joke in their own friend group that everyone needed a girl who looked at them like Dylan looked at Nicky.

They were best friends! That was why Nicky didn’t care that Dylan didn’t drive. It wasn’t that big of a deal to be someone’s personal Uber driver when they had basically dedicated their life to being your personal hype man. For the rest of their lives, probably, Nicholas Snyder would be dutifully transporting Dylan from place to place, and he was completely and honestly okay with that.

The car rolled to a stop as he pulled into the carwash, he put the car in neutral and killed the engine. Nicky disengaged his seatbelt and twisted his body in his chair as he spoke. “Time to play one of my - sorry, our favorite games. That’s right!” He sat back up, holding his treasured position. The one and only ceramic bong they were fortunate to have. With a bowl already packed, it was somewhat questionable where he’d been storing it, but it wasn’t like Dylan was about to ask. “Are you ready for the real Friday night lights? Testify, my brother, because it is time to play: Let’s See How High We Get From Hotboxing the Car in the Car Wash.” A lengthy title, but it was still a working one.

As the sudsy water began to crash on the windshield
while they rolled through the car wash, Nicky held the bong out to Dylan. “You can take the first one! You got a lighter, right?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be me,” Dylan said, channeling all the ancient wisdom of the teenage stoners who had come before him. Sitting there, in black and red sunglasses that read “Seniors!” on either arm, and a wrinkled class shirt he’d almost certainly pulled out of his hamper, Dylan Hearst was the picture of chill. He didn’t think there’d ever been anyone more chill than him, except for maybe Nicky, and that was close. The chillness he exuded made it all the more startling when he bounced into action, fishing a lighter from his back pocket so fast, you’d have thought he lost his vape.

Two flicks and one drag later, and Dylan was blowing smoke up and smiling as it ricocheted off of the ceiling. He was a simple boy; all he really needed was this. He passed the bong and his lighter (wrapped with a picture of the happiest golden retriever to roam the earth) to Nicky, and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Good stoners of the world, the soap is falling, the bowl is packed, and the absolutely stunning Dylan Hearst, has started us off with a perfect rip,” Dylan crowed, morphing his voice into his best imitation of an overzealous announcer. He’d never really picked up on the difference between an “indoor” and “outdoor” voice.

How many motherfuckers could say that the universe had given them their very own Samantha Irvin? Nicky Snyder never really realized how lucky he was, but he put a hand on Dylan’s shoulder and nodded enthusiastically, “bro. You should do voice overs for movie trailers. You know, like… In a world where high school never ends.” He said in a voice that he tried to sound like an old school movie trailer as he took the bong and lighter from Dylan. It was only a few seconds before a smoke cloud emanated from Nicky. In the midst of a coughing fit he did his best. “Naomi Davis and her galavanting band of sycophants do their very best to ruin our every living moment. Where OliCritz is too cool to ride to school with his buddies,” the last of the smoke left his mouth as he finished his hit.

“Dylan Hearst and Nicky Snyder continue their unending quest to find the Raphael and Donatello they’ve been searching for their whole lives.” He started to cough, hacking out his final words as he looked up at the ceiling. “Faze up.” As he spoke, he realized that he was getting baked.

“Damn. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a bad idea.” He mused, passing Scooby-Doobie back over to Dylan. It was too late to back down now!

“No such thing as a bad idea, just bad execution,” Dylan said. He took another hit, and passed it back as the plain, white bubbles gave way to technicolor foam. This was his favorite part. “Voice actor… you think you gotta go to school for that? Probably not if you’re really good at it. I don’t think Troy Baker went to school, and he’s in like, everything. I’m pretty good, I probably wouldn’t need the school,” Dylan said, with all the unearned confidence of a rich, white, teenager.

For better or worse, Dylan had mastered the beast that was ego a long time ago, mostly out of necessity. Nicky had been better than him at pretty much everything that anyone cared about for basically his entire life. He had better grades than him, better aim, he even walked before Dylan did. He learned pretty quickly that their continued friendship was probably proof enough that he was good at something, and he felt like that ‘something’ was keeping his boy at his best. It was Dylan’s philosophy that a hype man who didn’t believe in himself, couldn’t believe in anybody. So, for better or worse, he believed.

“Or, maybe, I’ll graffitti my way up the coast. That definitely doesn’t need school, and I could live in a cool van.”

As he listened, Nicky dumped the ash out of the bowl and carefully disposed of it on the floorboard of his car (he’d vacuum it later if he remembered). “Live in a van? That sounds kinda wild, duder. I don’t know if I could handle it. I’d be all cramped when I try to aim… Can you imagine playing Valorant in a van? I’d prolly have to like… play Fortnite on my Switch just to be comfortable. And bro, that’s like fuckin’ Dante’s 12th circle of hell.” Nicky, of course, knew perfectly well that there were only nine circles of hell in Inferno, but his reasoning was that playing Fortnite on a Nintendo Switch would suck so much sweaty swamp ass that it would skip the 10th and 11th circles to take him straight to the 12th circle of suckage. He couldn’t help himself, he physically shuddered at the thought.

It was late, but Nicky finally did respond to Dylan’s question about if schooling was needed for voice acting. “Nah, no way you need to go school to voice-act. You just gotta talk funny, and you’re hilarious bro.” Nicky fished around in the center console as the car approached the end of the line. He eventually produced what he was looking for: his grinder. He opened it up and dumped what was left of the deliciously purply purple Cali Kush into his palm, before packing it into the bowl of the bong. “Here, bro. For the funniest dude I’ve even and my most righteous and best friend: the final bowl of Lemon Cherry Gelato. Cowabunga, brother.”

Once again, he held the bong out to Dylan, as the carwash ended and he got ready to start the car back up.

“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?” Dylan snapped the bowl as the blow-dryers whirred to life, and watched a housewife shake her head in abject horror at their delinquency. He laughed. He did not want to acknowledge that these days would be behind him sooner rather than later, so he reveled in this hotbox and the 90210 socialite they’d just offended. “Cowabunga, my dude.”

---

After fifteen minutes and a lively discussion about the finer points of the Power Rangers, the dynamic duo pulled into Nicky’s freshly painted, senior parking spot, probably too high for school, but definitely too high to care. “Do I smell like weed? I don’t think I do.” Dylan shrugged, nonchalant. He did smell like weed, and anyone who hadn’t been sitting right next to him would’ve been able to tell him that. “Eh, who cares, Phoenix won’t do anything, he’s a big softie.” He smoothly stepped out of Nicky’s car, and shouted out to his fellow peers, “Attention, attention, you all can rest easy, the most important people in school have arrived, safe and sound. I know you guys were all really worried.” His trumpeting did not garner much attention from anyone other than a handful of underclassmen. Damn. He really needed to get his megaphone back from the principal’s office. People always cared more when you had a megaphone.

One day, Nicky hoped he’d get to hear Dylan herald his arrival in front of thousands of screaming fans who were ready to see him raise the trophy above his head for the first time… But that day sadly wasn’t today. Today, he was yelling into the aether at people who didn’t really care about either of them. Nicky jumped out of the car and looked over at Dylan. “Here, bro.” Nicky reached in his pocket and pulled out a bottle of eye drops, which he used in each eye before tossing it over to Dylan.

“We don’t wanna show up to class like that meme with Sonic where it’s like ‘do I look high?’ Because man, do we look high or what? Hold on, I’ll show you.” He pulled out his phone and tapped away for a few seconds before he shoved his phone in Dylan’s face. “Like this.”

Dylan popped his sunglasses up and looked at his own image staring back at him with two bloodshot eyes. He smiled and waved to the mini-Dylan, before rolling his head back and dropping a few saline drops into his eyes. He looked back down at Nicky’s phone, blinked a few times, and watched the redness begin to fade. “Dope.” He slung his arm around Nicky’s shoulder and began marching them towards their eight-hour sentence. “Tell me Nicholas, who do we know that could get in and out of a principal’s office unscathed?”

BHHS: Limitless

Levi Green-Locke

18 • cis male • pansexual • he/him • single

(FC: Harris Dickinson; Dialogue: 922b2b)

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Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

Levi's name speaks for itself, and if you care about your social life in Beverly Hills, you certainly remember it. His mother, Hailey Green built a media empire, and if you don't know her name, then you just haven't been paying attention. Levi is the cool, calm and collected right hand to BHHS' Queen Bee, Naomi Davis, and the kind of person it's hard to ignore. He's charming and intimidating all at once, always wearing a smirk that's not quite legible. If Katie Callaghan is the Queen of the Drama Club, then Levi is its king, although he has little interest in anyone who hasn't proven themselves. In addition to the stage, Levi makes occasional appearances at the Art and Photography Clubs, and is rumored to be running alongside Naomi as her VP.

► current dilemma

Levi is currently (and always has been) trying to win his mother's approval. It's been made pretty clear to him that his achievements are built on the back of her success, and he's beginning to realize that her money will only take him so far.

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

@levig on anything that's relevant.

► style

Levi's style is curated to give the illusion of chill. Designer sunglasses, carefully distressed tank tops and loose fitting polos, usually paired with board shorts or designer jeans. To his followers and fans, he looks like a traveler, an artist, a man of the world. There's a bohemian quality to his clothes, if you could call a trust fund baby 'bohemian'. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

► ride & everyday items

Usually gets driven to school in the family's Bentley, but he has a Lamborghini for his own use. Carries a satchel that was custom ordered from Louis Vuitton.

► extracurricular activities

Photography Club, Drama Club

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

"Cooler than you, probably. Definitely richer than you."

In my free time I like to _______.

"Plan world domination, take one of the boats out, explore the city, party. What else is there?"

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

"How the fuck do eels reproduce?"

This is how I define success and failure:

"Success is whatever makes my mom happy, I guess. Failure is pretty much everything else."

I'm inspired by _______.

"The Moms, my grandparents, Anthony Bourdain. Dude was sick as fuck."

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

Super Rich Kids - Frank Ocean | Pluto Projector - Rex Orange County | Sweet Creature - Harry Styles

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

"Definitely my first trip to Europe with Moms and Diana. We had lunch with Elton John."

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

"Buy that YSL blazer, you would've killed in it."

The things that make me smile are _______.

"The ocean, the adoration of the masses, pretty people. I'm a man of high class, but I'm not that hard to please. Usually."

My whole life story in one sentence:

"Moms wanted twins so they adopted me and now I'm rich and famous. Some call it luck, I call it generational trauma."

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► extra information

Very secretly volunteers at a local children's home as a youth mentor. Nobody can know that he has feelings.

Katie Callaghan

17 • cis female • heterosexual • she/her • cuffed

(FC: Kathryn Newton; Dialogue: ba314c)

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► reputation

Katie Callaghan is hard to miss. She's the kind of kid that isn't afraid to argue with teachers, or use a bullhorn during lunch to advertise the upcoming play. She's loud, dramatic, and much too determined to disappear for too long. You've probably seen her starring in school plays, or in one of Ethan Green's short films. In a school where people are waiting around every corner to push you down the social ladder, Katie is a refreshing face, able to drift around the complicated ecosystem with relative ease.

► current dilemma

Scott and Katie's post-high school plans have been decided for months. And then, Katie's mom pulled some strings and got her an interview with an admissions officer from Juilliard. She's not sure how she'll tell Scott, or if she'll even go to the interview. Honestly, she's not sure of anything right now.

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

@ktc on everything.

► style

Katie's not nearly as preppy as her brother, but she's no slouch either. Most days, she's wearing an outfit she thrifted, with designer accessories mixed in. Denim, or faux leather jackets, corduroy skirts or loose fitting trousers, usually paired with a pair of Doc Martens. A carefully curated, not-quite-grunge, aesthetic that she's perfected over the years. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

► ride & everyday items

Usually catches a ride with Jamie or Scott, but she does have her own car. Uses a shoulder bag because backpacks are soooo out.

► extracurricular activities

Drama Club, Film Club, and on the Dance Committee

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

"Driven."

In my free time I like to _______.

"Hike, kiss my boyfriend, binge watch TV, hang out with friends."

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

"How to play guitar."

This is how I define success and failure:

"Oof, can I skip this one?"

I'm inspired by _______.

"My mom, Audrey Hepburn, Jane Fonda

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

all-american bitch - Olivia Rodrigo | Still Into You - Paramore | Slow Dancing - Aly and AJ

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

"Watching my mom win her first Oscar. Followed closely by my first musical. I was eleven, it was a junior production of Shrek the Musical, and I absolutely killed as Young Fiona."

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

"Be nicer to Scott Lyon. But not too nice."

The things that make me smile are _______.

"My boyfriend, a standing ovation, and a quality shopping spree."

My whole life story in one sentence:

"Badass mom and badass dad make a badass, incredibly perfect, daughter. And Jamie too."

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► extra information

SELF-EXPLANATORY

Jamie Callaghan

17 • cis male • homosexual • he/him • don't ask

(FC: Miles Heizer; Dialogue: 31ba9c)

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Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

For better or worse, you probably know Jamie Callaghan. Maybe you saw his mom in one of many Oscar bait movies of the last two decades, or you're a fan of his dad's many directorial credits on some of those same movies. Maybe he helped your little brother pass freshman English, or maybe he told everyone that you cheated on your boyfriend at last week's party. Jamie is known as one of the smaller serpents in the BHHS garden, but a snake nonetheless. Snakes have their uses though, and so does Jamie. Between him, Trixie, and Indy, theres not a secret in those linoleum halls that couldn't be brought to light, and if you need to run a smear campaign... well, sources are sources. At least with Jamie, you know you can remain anonymous.

► current dilemma

His on again-off again relationship with one AJ Motherfucking Tyler. And getting his college applications together. And keeping the newspaper running. And probably fifty million other things.

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

@jamiethegreat on everything, except for LinkedIn. @jamiecallaghan on LinkedIn.

► style

Jamie dresses like he came out the womb with a black card, which, to be completely honest, he might as well have. If it wasn't for the inability to grow more than a few wisps of facial hair and the occasional breakout, you might think he was a 24 year old law student who got lost in Beverly Hills. Preppy, but modern, mostly designer, clothes that scream, "I'm a pretty little rich boy." Which, y'know, he is. His wardrobe probably cost more than most cars, but he does look damn good in it.

► ride & everyday items

Daphne, a white Range Rover is his usual ride to school. Always has a pen and notebook on hand, and a digital recorder in his bag.

► extracurricular activities

Editor with the school newspaper, and co-host of Salt and Truth, with Trixie. English Tutor.

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

"Ambitious, pretentious, and a bit of a bitch."

In my free time I like to _______.

"What free time? Read, write, hang out with my friends. I'm a simple boy, I guess."

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

"How to get over my ex-boyfriend How to chill out How to be a better me. Or something like that."

This is how I define success and failure:

"Success is a Pulitzer Prize, a big house, and majority ownership of a news organization that restores people's trust in journalists. Failure, for me at least, is pretty much anything else."

I'm inspired by _______.

"Easy. James Baldwin, Anderson Cooper, Taylor Swift."

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

Watch - Maisie Peter | Cruel Summer - Taylor Swift | Kyoto - Phoebe Bridger

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

"Family movie nights on the weeks when my parents weren't flying around the world. Those fell off when Katie and I got to high school, but I miss them."

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

"Try harder."

The things that make me smile are _______.

"AJ Motherfucking Tyler Rom-coms, good music, bad movies. Finishing a killer article, getting an A, my friends. Like I said, I'm simple."

My whole life story in one sentence:

"Uber talented mom plus ultra talented dad equals twins with chips on their shoulder, and the slightest of self image issues."

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Dylan Hearst

17 • Cis Male • Straight. Certainly. Probably. Maybe. • he/him • Single

(FC: Rudy Pankow; Dialogue: #EAB147)

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Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

Dylan is the kid that gets kicked out of class because he can't stop talking. He's a mainstay in detention, the one who probably would've been kicked out by now, if it wasn't for his family swooping in to save his ass every time he royally fucked everything. You might know him as the unofficial mascot of the BHHS E-Sports team, mainly because he won't stop screaming in the halls about how his boy Nicky will be leading them to victory this year. He may or may not have forgotten to print out sign up sheets so that there could actually be a team to lead, but that's unimportant. He's hyperactive, overly excited, and generally obnoxious. In short, he's your average 17 year old boy. Too bad BHHS is anything but average.

► current dilemma

His boy is about to shoot off into the stratosphere, and Dylan is just...Dylan. So yeah, maybe he is on his way to flunking out of high school, and maybe he IS starting to worry that he's completely fucked everything in a way that can't be fixed, and yeah, maybe he IS a teeny tiny bit in love with his best friend, but who cares? He's got no prospects other than an assistant manager spot at the comic book store, and he's handling that like he's handled every problem before it. By not thinking about it.

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

@dylpickle on Twitch, TikTok, Twitter and Instagram.

► style

Despite having the money for it, Dylan has never cared much about his wardrobe. He has a couple designer suits that his parents had tailored for him, but he prefers his clothes to be comfortable references to the pop culture he fills his days with. Graphic tees, a shell shaped backpack that looks out of place amidst the sea of designer bags, and a pair of jeans that are beginning to fray are really the only things he needs to feel like he's taking the world by storm. At a glance, he looks like he doesn't belong amongst the children of the rich and famous, and frankly, he kind of likes it that way.

► ride & everyday items

"Mom and Dad took away the whip because I got a D in Chemistry last year, which is stupid because like, who has ever passed Chemistry? Everybody fails Chem, it's like, not even in English dude. Sorry, what was the question? Oh right, how do I get to school. Easy, Nicky takes me."

► occupation

Working part time at The Watchtower, a comic book store in the Hills that is probably only still open because of him and Nicky. Another horror inflicted upon him by the nefarious force that is Mrs. Wheeler's Chemistry class.

► extracurricular activities

Helping to give the overachievers of BHHS tutoring positions. It's a very important job you know.

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

"God's gift to Beverly Hills. Or the guy that can score you a vintage Spider-Man comic for real cheap."

In my free time I like to _______.

"Play Valorant with the homies, read comic books, draw, smoke weed, find some sick rooftops to graffiti. I'm a pretty little pearl, and the world's my motherfucking oyster baby."

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

"How to do a backflip. Last time I tried I landed on my back and I'm pretty sure I saw the Big Bang. Although, I guess that could've just been the drugs."

This is how I define success and failure:

"I don't know dude, I guess like, having money and shit? That's what my parents think at least. Failure is...not having money and shit?"

I'm inspired by _______.

"Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo and Raphael. Not the old dudes, the ninja turtles. Those guys are dope as fuck."

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

|Revvin My CJ7 - Summer Salt | SWEET - BROCKHAMPTON | Only in the West - Yeek |

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

"Bro comeon, you know what I'm gonna say. Midnight premiere of Michael Bay's best movie ever, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, with my boi. Probably like, the greatest moment in cinema history, and I'd put money on that. It's either that, or like, the one time I met Stan Lee before he kicked it."

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

"Don't sleep on mixing nacho cheese and salsa. Slaps so hard."

The things that make me smile are _______.

"The turtles, Spider-Man, that one scene in Endgame when all the portals open up. And my boy Nicky. And weed. And a good day in Santa Monica. Video games, those Snickers with peanut butter. Honestly, there isn't a lot that doesn't make me smile."

My whole life story in one sentence:

"If Nicky is Batman, then I'm Robin. Only he's shorter than me."

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Benjamin "Benji" Mayhew

18 • Cis Male • Bisexual • he/him • Single

(FC: Chris Briney; Dialogue: 3665b8)

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Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

For pretty much the entirety of his high school career, Benji has been shotgunning and schmoozing with the best of them. His dad, Alexander Mayhew, helped manage the finances of some of the biggest names in Hollywood, and that came with benefits. A beast on the field and on the ice, and an affable jokester in the halls, Benji was one of those guys that was hard to hate. You might've wanted to, because of everything he represented, and the way life just seemed to shift into place around him, but when he slung his arm around your shoulder and invited you to the next big party...well, all of that just sort of melted away. It all went to shit last year when Mr. Mayhew was revealed as Beverly Hills' own Bernie Madoff. After the very public arrest of Alexander, and Benji's own very public nervous breakdown, Benji and his mom moved in with his aunt, a woman who made all her money and lost all her marbles back in the eighties. Benji more or less fell off the grid all summer, before returning to school with a smaller wardrobe and slightly less smiles. Everyone, including Benji himself, seems to just be waiting to see if he'll break again.

► current dilemma

"Dad's awaiting trial, Mom's been practically catatonic for months, and we're stuck living with her batshit sister and her fifty fucking parakeets. Most colleges wouldn't touch me with a twenty foot pole, and I'm pretty sure everybody is just waiting for me to snap again. Which one interests you the most?"

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

@beanjamin on Insta, Twitter and TikTok. @beanjammin is his finsta for the occasional guitar video.

► style

Up until this year, Benji's always cared quite a bit about his appearance. Designer clothes, usually under a varsity jacket, always slightly preppier than you might expect from your average jock. In the wake of his family's sudden financial shift, most of his expensive wardrobe was sold off, and he's replaced it with plain hoodies and jeans, and even the occasional pair of sweatpants. Truly, how the mighty have fallen.

► ride & everyday items

His Jeep is one of the handful of things he got to keep after shit hit the fan with his dad, and probably his prized possession at the moment.

► occupation

Forced to get a job at The Sunshine Diner once the allowance got cut off.

► extracurricular activities

Football and hockey keeps him pretty busy, but he likes to support his boys and their clubs when he can.

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

"Uhhhhh...I don't know. Fast, funny, fucking your mom? Probably a bit moody, but hey, I think I'm allowed my moods. One a day, at least."

In my free time I like to _______.

"Hang with the boys, go surfing, play guitar, tear up a hiking trail. I took up boxing over the summer cause I really needed to hit something, and I didn't want it to be a wall. I don't know, I'll do anything that lets me tune the rest of the world out really."

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

"Aunt Gina wants to teach me how to do yoga, but I don't really wanna fucking do that. I'm trying to learn how to play that one John Mayer song because honestly, the guitar moves never fail to get people's pants off. Also, the Diner makes this insane omelet that I'm trying to learn, but I haven't quite gotten the texture right."

This is how I define success and failure:

"Comeon, this one seems obvious. I think as long as I'm not rockin' an orange jumpsuit, I'm doing better than my dad, and what's success if not showing up your parents?"

I'm inspired by _______.

"Freddy Mercury. I hated the movie, but his music is like, insanely good."

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

Freudian - Daniel Caesar | Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana | Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen |

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

"When I was ten, before we moved down from the Bay, my parents took me to a Niners game. My dad was making a lot more money by that point so we got a private box and everything. I think it was the first day in months that my parents didn't fight. I think that was when I decided I wanted to play football, honestly. Kind of stupid, I guess. Dad probably stole those tickets too."

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

"Drink more water, and open a savings account now. It'll come in handy later."

The things that make me smile are _______.

"Ghost hunter shows, reality tv, when the Forty-Niners get a win, and a perfect pass. Yeah, I do believe in ghosts, what the fuck about it?"

My whole life story in one sentence:

"I was born, I was rich, my dad got arrested, and now I work at a diner while my mom and her sister meditate all fucking day. It's been chiller, that's for sure."

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► extra information

Overly pretentious about his taste in music.

Calliope "Calli" Jane Helmsley

17 • Cis Female • Pansexual • she/her • Single and mingling

(FC: Maya Hawke; Dialogue: CADAF7)

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Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

The youngest of the Helmsley triplets, and the heart of the trio, Calliope Jane is something of an enigma. You’d expect someone like her to be snobbish, a sycophant of Naomi Davis. Instead she is brave, bold, and probably more competitive than she needs to be, but always friendly where it counts. Her parents raised a winner, not an asshole. Calli has always been the self-proclaimed “fun triplet.” If she isn’t practicing her lacrosse throws or prepping for soccer season, she’s usually with the Elite, cheering on whatever idiocy they’ve gotten themselves into on that particular day. She’s an adrenaline junkie by nature, always looking for the next great high. Calli wants new experiences, new people, new sensations, and she wants to look great while doing it. She lives for those moments where her blood is pumping and her heart is racing and she is on top of the world. Life is a juicy fucking peach, and she wants to go all Timothee Chalamet on it. She finds the seemingly endless drama that surrounds her classmates silly, but that doesn’t mean she won’t stir the pot a little bit. After all, if nobody gets hurt, then it’s really all fun and games, right?

► current dilemma

"Uhhhhhh planning the best birthday party ever? We've still got a few months, but we can't agree on a theme. I wanted to do "Famous Lesbians" but Herc and Athena said that was too niche. I guess I should probably decide where I'm gonna play next year too, but honestly, I think I might just flip a coin."

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

@calamityjane on everything that's relevant.

► style

Calli is as at home in sports wear as she is in a sundress and a cute little hat. She oscillates between tomboy and intense femininity with ease, and reckless abandon. You're just as likely to see her walking through the halls in a pair of running shorts and a tank top, hair up, face free of makeup, as you are to bear witness to her considerable wardrobe of luxury and designer clothes. She's not a trendsetter, but she is something of a chameleon, shifting and changing to fit her environments and moods.

► ride & everyday items

The Chariot, a refurbished VW Bus, usually driven by herself or Herc. Big enough for a set of triplets and their dogs.

► occupation

"I started picking up some shifts at Creamistry last summer, mostly because I wanted an excuse to hang out there, and the kids who work there seemed chill. Ice cream's a plus too. Not to mention my parents own the place, so it's easy to work around my schedule."

► extracurricular activities

Captain of the lacrosse team, midfielder on the soccer team. Member of the Adventure Club.

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

"A team player, a good lay, and the first girl in BHHS history to sneak an entire keg of beer onto campus."

In my free time I like to _______.

"Torture Mikey, crash Herc's DnD sessions, and lie. Just for fun. I convinced this freshman last year that we owned a small South American country. I maybe took that one a bit far, my editing privileges on Wikipedia got revoked."

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

"How to get my editing privileges back. Wikipedia, if you're reading this, I promise I won't invent another small nation, I've learned from my mistakes."

This is how I define success and failure:

"Success is just happily ever after, y'know? It's that moment when all the forest animals show up and sing you out. Failure is just, like...not being happy, right? Like Ursula was girlbossing pretty hard at the bottom of the ocean, but she felt like a failure cause she wasn't happy with any of it, even though her garden of souls was kind of cool."

I'm inspired by _______.

"Aunt Becca, the guy who came up with the Cinnabon recipe, and Mom. And myself, 'cause how could I not be?"

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

| Espresso - Sabrina Carpenter | Banana Pancakes - Jack Johnson | Levitating - Dua Lipa |

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

"It's kinda hard to pick just one...I guess I'd say when we picked up Duke? That's one of our dogs. Don't tell the others, but he's my favorite. Or maybe making pancakes with Mom on the weekends? OH! I know! Beverly Hills Junior Lacrosse Championships, 2018. Lucy Mansfield was this terrible little witch who wouldn't stop making fun of my braces, and that day, we were playing her team for this sick trophy. Anyways, I hit her in the stomach with the ball and she puked in front of everybody. I got benched, and we lost, but Lucy couldn't stop crying long enough to take a picture with the trophy. Only time I ever felt good about losing."

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

"Wikipedia will revoke your editing privileges, no matter how well researched and written your fake country is."

The things that make me smile are _______.

"The petting zoo, winning obviously, and Neapolitan ice cream. It's the best of three worlds."

My whole life story in one sentence:

"I was last out the womb and made a promise right then, to never lose another race."

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► extra information

BHHS: Limitless

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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx click pictures below for some vibes x x x x x

𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐰𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. ____________________________________________________________________ You’ve finally made it! With homecoming rapidly approaching, you and your peers have made it to the final year of high school. Attending Beverly Hills High has been almost like going to school in an active warzone; with never ending drama, fights both physical and verbal happening on the daily. After four years, it’s finally time to focus on graduating and leaving school in the past. Senioritis is infectious, and the whole class has got it. After spending junior year focused on finding the right college and making sure you get in, senior year is finally a year of rest and relaxation. As long as you didn’t fuck up the last three years, it’s finally time for a year of nihilism and doing whatever you want. Just this once, it doesn’t matter if you don’t sign up for a full load of AP classes - take the photography elective you’ve been eyeing for a year. If even more school doesn’t speak to you, that’s fine. The senior class this year is sure to have plenty of extra curricular debauchery for you to get involved with. It’s almost tradition at this point - for their last year, the senior class of Beverly Hills High School has always thrown parties of increasing intensity almost every other weekend. According to rumors, the seniors this year are planning to go even more over the top than those who came before them. That only leaves one last question to be answered: What are you going to do next? The answer is simple… Whatever the f**k you want. ____________________________________________________________________ x x x x

𝗛𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗥𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀

• A fair amount of us in this roleplay are old hats. That doesn't mean we don't want others to join. If you're interested, feel free to grab a sheet, make a character and apply. We want to run this roleplay as a community willing to grow, understand and support one another. No petty drama. We will not tolerate harassment and passive aggressiveness. If you're insecure, reach out and we will assure you and address your concerns. We are adults so lets govern ourselves accordingly, fostering maturity, grace and kindness as we handle issues we have with one another, with the story, and with anything guild related.

• Communication is essential to creating a secure creative collaborative space. IRL life will always come first but if you can kindly let us know when you're not available, we will make sure to adjust as needed. In addition, issues can be prevented if you communicate with us. We as your GM team will go out of way to make sure this roleplay, and our server, is fun and safe. Personalities may clash but we will do our due diligence to help you where help is needed.

• Ideally, we want to keep a tempo with this roleplay but we aren't really crazy on setting deadlines. Just know there will come times we may poke you and check on you/where you're at. Your character can only shine if you put content out. But like I said earlier, we understand if the inspo isn't there or if life is rough. Just keeps us updated and we'll try to help you out.

• We encourage you to challenge yourself as a writer and explore honestly whatever the heck you want, with reason. This is a slice of life, coming of age roleplay in Los Angeles. Obviously keep to the genre but we want to see you flourish creatively. Let us provide you that space to do exactly that.

• Be aware you're not the only writer in this story, which means others have triggers, interests, beliefs, views that aren't like your own. When you join our discord, we want to keep an open conversation with our group and share any necessary information you feel comfortable sharing, so we can provide a space everyone is comfortable to write in. As long as we remember we are a community and this roleplay is a collaborative effort, I'm certain we will have a wonderful time.

• No posting order, just wait for the GMs to start the intro of the roleplay. Character cap at the moment is six but write what you can handle. We likely will bring the cap up eventually. Real face claims is a requirement and fyi, this is a sandbox style roleplay surrounding the seniors, Class of 2025, of Beverly Hills High. Please don't post WIP in the OOC. Once your character is done, post them in OOC tagging the GMs, and wait for our approval to move your character to the character tab.

• Last but certainly not the least: Normal guild rules. No godmodding, no metagaming, don't be rude which means no cyberbullying, no perfect characters, etc etc. You get the drift. If you have any questions, please PM or DM me, Jordan and/or smarty.

Thank you so much and we can't wait to embark on this journey with you!