Burntown was, in Alan Alexander’s opinion, California’s best kept secret. Yes, California’s. Maybe even America’s. When he was growing up, his dad and his dad’s best friend would tell him stories about the skatepark, which was all but abandoned by that point. It had been their stomping ground, and A Double had been intent on making it his. The very second he’d learned to skateboard, he’d wanted to go to the legendary skatepark. And he had, he’d gone with his father and Davy Powers and they’d skateboarded. And it was heaven.

It was fantastic, it was amazing. No one saw it, man! A Double’s heart was almost ripped out when he saw how few people were there — it had just been him and his dad and his dad’s friend at first. In fact, the skatepark was in danger of being removed for a long time; when he’d been younger there had been no one there. Nobody understood the history behind the place, not back then. From the legendary snake run the Z-Boys had ran way back in the day, to the halfpipe where Tony Hawk had landed the first 900, the skatepark was damn near a piece of history.

As A Double grew up, and found his way… he wasn’t quite as antisocial as Davy had been. Davy was the LA local, but he’d not really brought anyone around, so it had been him who’d ran the snake run solo day in and day out. A Double, on the other hand? He had friends, and was generally a popular, well liked boy. He’d saved the park, through simply bringing people and just… skating. Forgetting everything else, and just skating. Not all of them were virtuosos like he was, but that didn’t matter! It really, truly didn’t.

It became known as Burntown as A Dubs became the king of the stoners, and it got associated with that type of people. The skaters and the stoners were almost one and the same, sure there were one or two skaters that didn’t smoke, and a couple of stoners that didn’t skate, and just liked the camaraderie of the place, but it didn’t matter to A Double. If the halls of BHHS were Hailey’s kingdom, then Burntown was his.

He was a man of the people, really more of a leader and a king than he even realized. He and his kind just hung out there, almost always. Dreamland was great, sure, but that was his parent’s Dreamland. This was his. He’d even made a few additions in his time there, including building his own little chill spot, which was really just a lean to he and Wyatt had set up with a shitty old leather couch, a crappy TV A Double had lifted from his parents, an internet connection they bummed from the library, and a minifridge filled with snacks. It may not have been perfect, but dammit it was home.

And that was where A Double found himself now. A cream soda in one hand, a joint in the other, Wyatt to his side, and We Bare Bears blasting on the TV. The others came to them sometimes, younger kids for skating advice, older kids for weed, and A Double was happy to help everyone out! He loved it here, he loved the people, the atmosphere, even the gross smell of the air. If it wasn’t for Burntown, he wouldn’t have a place to hang out, or skate, or just have friends.

Every day started here, and ended at Captain Cuddles with greasy pizza being shoved down their throats.

And honestly? It was heaven.

He passed the joint over to Wyatt and looked at his watch, tapping it. “I feel like… the others should… be here. Shouldn’t they? It seems like it’s that time.” However, on A Double’s watch screen, was not the time. A Double was staring at the weather. This new weed was good.

Wyatt couldn’t help but burst out laughing at A Double’s watch. It helped that he was already, baked, but it was also one of the funnier things that had happened to him recently, at least in his opinion. ”Dude, that’s the weather,” Wyatt said before taking a long drag off the joint and passing it back to A Double. Wow. That was good weed.

”Anyways, Raf is probably tied up with Anime Club, Rose is probably being Rose, and Quincy… well she’s your girlfriend, not mine,” Wyatt said, naming off the usual suspects. ”Hey! Speaking of Quincy, what’s the sitch with you too? Did you guys sleep together? Is that why she was over the other night? Has the V Card finally been lost?” Wyatt asked, bombarding A Double with questions.

Oh man those questions were flying at him. Zing! Zing! Zing! How was he supposed to keep up with such rapid fire bombardments of hard hitting questions? First thing first. A Double put the joint in between his lips and stared at his watch for a second, adjusting it to show the time. There. Much better, now it served a purpose! Then, he turned his attention to Wyatt and thought about things. “Okay. Do you remember the party you didn’t go to, on account of you got too high and passed out in my room? Well, at that party, I was just building a sand throne, and Q came out and was like ‘I think I’m love with you!’ and I was like ‘alright, cool.’” A Double did his best to paint a picture where he wasn’t a stuttering mess. “And then she jumped on my lap and she kissed me and she shoved her tongue in my mouth and then she turned so she could straddle me and it was real weird, but then she knocked my bong out of the bong holder that I had built for it so I dove for it and we fell in the sand… It was James Bong, dude! Double O 420. I couldn’t let him go down.”

He paused, but only for the briefest of seconds to take in a drag, and hand it over. There was a small period of coughing, before he was back into his story. “Anyway, while we laid there in the sand, I realized I really wanted McDonald’s, so I asked her if she wanted to get some McDonald’s and she was like ‘yeah, sure.’ So we went and did that. Then, to answer your second question, she was over because I was really high and really hungry and I forgot to drop her off. She slept in the same bed as me, but we were clothed. My belly was full. I was happy and sleepy. So I just went to sleep. Anyway, the only reason we never said anything, mind you, I wanted to, was she thought everyone would get all weird about it and that it might change like, the dynamic of our group. I tried telling her it wouldn’t! But she insisted. I don’t really like being a secret, though, so I’m glad that’s over… Oh, V-Card is still firmly in the wallet.”

Wyatt sat, wide eyed and attentive, as A Double recounted the beginnings of him and Q’s relationship. He was intrigued, of course. Two of his best friends, dating? Uh, yeah. Q was already his mom practically. And A Double was definitely not his dad, but like, it was still cool. ”So, are you guys good now? She seemed pretty peeved during homeroom,” Wyatt observed, hoping A Double would say yes. He was already too invested into this relationship for it to shatter so quick.

“Yeah, I kissed her and told her how I feel and it seemed okay. I think we’re good, and all public and stuff. So that’s nice. At least I’ll get snuggles when we’re all hanging out now, instead of thinking ‘man, it’d be nice to be snuggling my girlfriend.’ This is tough work! Turns out, Q is emotional. Who knew?” A Double looked up at the sky for a few seconds, before looking at Wyatt. “...wanna go get tacos?”

Wyatt gasped with excitement. ”Of fucking course I want tacos!” he shouted, jumping up from his spot on the couch. Right as he was grabbing his jacket he saw a group of four or five underclassmen, making their way towards A Double’s makeshift throne room. He squinted and saw Stephen Rhett leading the pack, nursing a black eye. ”Yo, A Double! Your bitch of a girlfriend fucking punched me! As long as she’s around, we aint!” Stephen shouted. Wyatt winced and turned to A Double. Stephen had the wrong idea of A Double if he thought any part of that was gonna work for him. This wasn’t Hailey’s turf, that kind of petty politics wouldn’t fly here.

A Double frowned as he looked at the angry, younger boy. “She really hit you? That’s not cool, I’ll talk to her about that. But if you wanna go somewhere else, I guess that’s up to you, man… I hear the skatepark on Wesley Avenue is pretty tight! Maybe you guys can go hang out there? Hey, me and Wyatt are gonna go get tacos. You guys want tacos? It won’t make your eye less swollen, but… tacos are pretty good! I’ll buy.” A Double said, and almost instantly his normal large smile was back on his face. Wyatt was right. A Dubs didn’t care, if people wanted to go elsewhere, that was up to them.

Stephen scowled and shook his head, storming off with his posse. ”Yeah that’s right, you heard the man! Beat it, midgets!” Wyatt shouted after the underclassmen, much more energy in his voice than in A Doubles. If A Double was the king, then Wyatt was his hype man. Did kings even have hype men? Wyatt didn’t care either way. ”Come on my man! Let’s get tacos!”

Geeze. What kind of monsters could possibly turn down tacos? FREE. TACOS. Crazy. Though he did not voice his immediate concern, A Double wondered if people who declined free tacos were the kind of people they wanted around Burntown, anyway. “Yeah, totally. I’m feelin’ carne asada tacos, and maybe some deep fried ice cream…” A Double muttered, finally standing up and gesturing for his friend to follow him as he headed toward the exit of Burntown. A Double then pulled out his phone, and thought about texting Q. Thought about it, and then he realized that texting wasn’t the right thing to do. They were in a relationship. That meant he had to exercise a lost art. A Double pressed the call button, and for damn near the first time since he’d bought the phone, he put it to his ear and listened to the dial tone.

Q damn near threw her phone across her room before checking the caller id. At the sight of A Double sticking his tongue out like an idiot her face softened and she picked up. ”Yeah babe?” She winced. Were they at ‘babe’ level yet? Hopefully, cause she just went for it.

See, he knew calling her was the right thing to do! How exciting! A Double’s face immediately lit up with that huge smile and he excitedly spoke to Q. “I’m babe now! Cool.” You’re good, Q. Carry on. “Hey, so this guy said you punched him? Uhm, you probably shouldn’t do that I think. I didn’t say anything while he was here because I don’t like to be rude, but I bet he totally deserved it. Anyway, me and Wyatt are going to get tacos! You want tacos?”

Q couldn’t help but grin, despite the mention of Stephen. ”We can talk about that later. Of course I want tacos, pick me up in 10?” Q said. She didn’t feel the need to explain to A Double how apparently a bunch of their supposed friends hated her because she used to run with Hailey. It wasn’t like she thought A Double would have anything to say about it, because of course he wouldn’t. He was the chillest guy she knew. It was more so that she didn’t feel the need to remind herself that she’d never be one of them.

“Sure! But… where are you?” That was an important portion of picking her up for tacos… Maybe she was home? He didn’t care, really. They’d go pick her up, and then get delicious tacos, and then come back! Or something else. A Double was open to suggestions! “Also, I don’t usually call people, but I thought it was kinda like the right thing to do. Since we’re a real thing now? It works, like, in my head…”

Q shook her head, chuckling. ”I’m at home right now, the gates open though so you can drive on in. And, calling works just fine. Alright, I’ll see you in a few. Bye.” Quincy said, before hanging up the phone.

Back at Burntown, Wyatt flashed A Double a sly grin and nodded suggestively at his friend. ”Niiiiiice!”

The football field was home to two tryouts, at the same time. They were very different, too. One of them, of course, was the classic. Football. A bunch of teenage boys running around on a field trying to prove that they were bigger, stronger and faster than their peers. There were fights that broke out almost every time; it was damn near a given due to how pumped up on testosterone they got. The fights were pulled apart by the gruff, angry coach, and they were told to run until they puked. And they did! Because the alternative was to be kicked off the team: the deepest sin in the world.

The other? The other was cheerleading. The cheer tryouts were different. They were different because the people in charge of them, and the people participating, couldn’t get all their feelings out with a few hits to the head. Instead, the cheerleaders were bitchy, backstabbers, verbally abusive, and any other number of things. It was a wonder anyone new wanted to join them!

Of course, part of it had to be that being a cheerleader could be used as a pretty solid jumping off point to get in with the popular kids. Maybe that’s why so many people still showed up, despite the cheer squads open bitchiness. Or, maybe some of them were just competitive. The BHHS squad was pretty good, they at least usually placed high in regionals. Maybe they could win, or even go to nationals.

Ophelia didn’t really care about that part of things. She was on the squad because she liked the uniforms, and flippy shit. This was the only way for her to satiate it — BHHS didn’t have a gymnastics squad, so this was the best she could do. She was seated dead center in the table with the other judges, waiting for things to get underway. “We should have just done this in the gym,” she muttered to no one in particular, “too much possible drama over with the dudes, since they have to replace Damian.”

Brynn sat directly to the right of Ophelia, filing her nails whilst admiring the football players as they ran drill after drill. As one of the few remaining seniors on the team, she would have a larger say in which girls would be selected, since after all, they would be the ones replacing her after she graduated. “I’m not complaining-” Brynn replied, a small laugh following her words. Almost every single guy on the team was hot as hell, and lucky for the brunette, she’d slept with the majority of them. “Think of it as motivation for the new girls. If they get on the squad, they’ll get to gawk at them every day for the rest of the year...” She completed the thought, setting down her file and admiring her work; her nails were now pointy enough to nearly stab someone.

Sitting to the left of Ophelia was Madison Weaver, the daughter of two former AWE wrestlers. Still, she hadn’t earned her place on the team through money or her lineage. She was genuinely one of the most technically impressive cheerleaders the school had ever seen, and had been in the upper echelons of ‘Cheerleaders with the best body’ for most of her time here. She didn't do it for the popularity, though. She did it for the physical challenge. Though she was a noticeably kind person when not in her cheerleading costume, she took it very seriously. In some ways, the girls who were about to try out for the team would have as much to fear from her as they would from the bitchiness. “Don’t encourage them, Brynn," she replied to her fellow senior. "If they’re just here to be popular and get attention from guys, and aren’t going to put the work into mastering the routines, then they’re not getting in."

Sitting at the end of the judging panel-like table was Selena Sterling. The blonde was tapping her purple glitter pen against her rosy pink matte lipstick-coated lips. Observing the girls as they filed in a single line to tryout out, Selena did exactly what you were supposed to do when you were on a judging panel — she was judging. As always, Sel could hear the gossip birds chirping alongside her. She paid attention only when she picked Brynn’s voice out of the bunch. Brynn was sleeping with her brother, which meant that Brynn was under all but police surveillance in Selena’s world. Sel leaned forward and squinted at her not-quite-friend, not-quite-enemy before speaking. “Truly, Brynn, is that all you are capable of thinking about?” Selena followed up on Madison’s comment with a harsh sneer.

Brynn craned her neck to look over at Madison and Selena. Things had been shaky between the two of them since the blonde had caught the brunette in bed with her beloved brother, which didn’t make sitting at this table with her any easier than it normally was. Fed up with her cattiness, she threw it right back to her. “No, I’m also capable of thinking about how hot your brother looked in the Janitor’s closet this morning…” She replied, a devilish smirk appearing on her face. “I’m also capable of thinking about how I can ‘accidentally’ make you fall off the top of the pyramid later… Oops.” Brynn emphasized her words with air quotes, a laugh emitting from her lips.

Ophelia turned her head, leaning forward so that she could take a gander over at Shauna. Without a care in the world, she pointed and said. “Could be worse. They could be hanging around just to try and hook up with one of the literal children here. Come on, dude, don’t you have drama club?” Despite the way she spoke to Shauna, Ophelia had been the one to provide the extra chair at the table, like she almost always did.

Whoever came up with cheerleading was likely a saint, and if they weren’t then damn the religion that denied them that honor. What wasn’t there to love about cheerleaders, especially the ones that were young, flexible, and naive enough to assume that someone who sat at the judges table was part of the squad? Shauna Flynn had damn near been a staple at the tryouts despite only ever wearing a uniform after it had been removed from another. That didn’t stop her from occupying a seat at the table, but her judgment was of a different variety; she didn’t much care if they could do a tumble or a handspring or a half tuck. Her presence wasn’t one hundred percent welcomed, but at Ophelia’s comment, Shauna simply shrugged while keeping her eyes firmly planted on the young hopefuls.

"This is more important than drama club. They know me there, and no one wears skirts quite this revealing. More to the point, you aren’t going to accept all of them to the squad, and someone has to be there to dry their tears, and I know a thing about that. Don’t worry. I won’t step on your toes, Ophelia. Maybe if you were two years younger and a virgin I might be inclined to step on your toes. Which reminds me, which ones are the Freshmen?” Shauna clearly had no shame as she settled in to watch the tryouts.

Madison didn’t even turn to look at Shauna, let alone reply. Not because of anything to do with herself, but simply because she constantly reminded Madison of one of her many mistakes here in high school. Once, she had also courted a Freshman in Shiloh Clay. It was an admittedly very fun relationship while it lasted, and both girls had partaken in a lot of casual sex. But then the younger girl began to tell people and gossip spread around, and it all got a bit ugly. Shauna had tried to get with Madison several times since then but how could you say yes to a person who reminds you of an incident like that, especially when, after Madison, Shiloh immediately moved on to Shauna for a while?

Ignoring the conversation going on between Ophelia and the non-cheerleader that wasn’t even supposed to be here, Selena kept her eyes trained Brynn. She didn’t react to the girls words even slightly, not when she mentioned hooking up with Sean, nor when she weakly threatened the queen-to-be. Cute. Perhaps she had forgotten who she was speaking to? With a calm, regal smile, Selena reminded her. “Oh, why don’t you try that, hmm?” Sel’s voice was venomous as she tilted her head to the side and continued. “We all know that the only way for someone with your... figure… to make it to the top is to do so by such a petty move.”

Ophelia heard her two girls arguing and she shook her head. “Stop being babies,” she complained, drinking from the red Gatorade she had in front of her. She looked around at the entire judge table, and carried on speaking. “Can’t we just for once have a good day? Let’s just enjoy ourselves, and be here for our own reasons, right? Shauna’s here to cradle rob. Brynn’s here to stare at the men. Cassie’s here because she’s my bestie and she loves me. Sel’s here because it’s best for business. Madi’s here to win more trophies. I’m here to do flips and stare at other girls in, uh, well I picked pretty slutty outfits, and that was definitely on purpose.” Ophelia shrugged her shoulders, as if to say ‘sue me.’ All she wanted was for her friends to chill out and enjoy each other’s company.

“Brynnie, lovely, maybe you should… shake Sean. He’s makin’ a rift. That’s not okay.” Ophelia tutted, waving her finger at Brynn. “We have standards and rules, you know? Can’t be dating someone that makes Sel even… well, sorry, Sel: bitchier than normal. Dating, hooking up, whatever. Executive call man, you gotta ditch him.” She explained, before reaching into her bag and pulling out her clipboard that had the list of the day’s applicants. Upon seeing this, Madison, who had been ignoring the argument entirely, sat up straight. It was almost time to begin, probably.

Brynn sighed, knowing that Ophie had a point. Especially with all of the feelings she had felt today, she knew that she had held onto Sean for too long. “I surrender,” She stated, holding up her hands as if she had been caught by the police. Brynn was meeting him after school to talk to him anyway, so she would have to cut ties pronto. No Payne, no gain, as everyone would say, and she couldn’t deny the rest of the school the chance to get with her any longer than she already had. “Sel, congratulations, you can have your brother back, but you’d better watch your back or else my figure may come crashing down on you when you least expect it…”

“Now girls. Remember what I told you.” On the side of the bleachers, in an open area by the garbage, was a large table with an assortment of makeup and accessories, with the mother of Damian O’Connor and two, small freshmen standing next to it. The students waiting to be freed. Melody was extra, but anything for her baby and baby’s friend!

Her other baby. Not her son.

“If I need to puke, swallow it. The show must go on.” A redhead with short pigtails and an outfit that spoke 1999 Britney Spears ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’ let her mother apply the most glossy of glosses the world had to offer that smelt and tasted like raspberries. ‘Presentation was everything’ her mother would say. Absentmindedly, the young girl’s arms wrapped around her stomach, covering her bare belly.

“Truly Bliss, not that one.” Melody tsked. Why couldn’t her daughter use her brain? It wasn’t like she was making her write an essay on everything she’s told her!

“Mommmmmmm, call me True at school!” True was the sister of the captain, err ex captain, of the the football team that everyone seemed to forget. Minus the damn teachers. From the first day onward, they expected her to care about school just as much as her brother and to be just as good as him. It was dumb. She was only fourteen! Why should she try to be perfect when she can have fun? Like spend her school day staring at a certain someone, every chance she had, entertaining the idea of them. Together. Forever.

Melody simply gave her daughter a stern glare, in hopes it would help True recollect one of the thousand tips she gave her while she dolled her and Kit up. “Can I phone a friend?” The anxious freshman nervously laughed and nudged Kit to save her.

Kit’s eyes went wide for a second and she looked from Melody to True, and back to Melody, then to True once more! She was a Tekken God. She didn’t have time for things like CHEERLEADING, but this was all part of the plan; and she had to stick to the plan! But, she definitely had no idea what Melody was talking about… and it wasn’t really her fault! Choosing to do what she’d been doing all day, to great effect, Kit replied. “Mrs. True’s mom, to be honest, I’ve been awake for 30 hours straight now, or something dumb like that. It’s probably closer to 35 and if I hadn’t muted Echo she’d be berating me with an exact time down to the nanosecond but anyway I’m like really tired and I can barely remember how to walk so I don’t think I’m gonna do very good at this thingy do you think it’s too late for me to quit? I should quit.” Kit didn’t even like wearing lip gloss and all this other stuff. It was confusing! How was she supposed to remember all of that stuff!?

“Being a girl is real tough work… I wish someone would have told me or I never would have tried this.” Kit, to be honest, was fucking exhausted. Makeup, twice, in one day. Outfit building twice, in one day. Now she had to go do… flips, or something in front of Ophelia and Cassie and SELENA. Stress, stress, stress. Weed, video games, and pizza could not come quickly enough.

“You two are impossible…” Melody muttered in bewilderment before getting things back on track, it was almost time for them to shine! “Kit, baby, there is no one way to be a girl. Hasn’t your mom told you anything? She was Belle’s princess, after all... ANYWAYS! You remember the talent show story?”

Placing her palm on her face, True grumbled, “Where you and your friends danced like total slu---stars in front of dad and his friends and all your dads?”

“Precisely.” Melody walked around the table and rested one hand on both True’s and Kit’s shoulders, “You absolutely have to make your daddies proud! Everything you got, including your bods, you got it from them—”

“MOM.”

“Flaunt what your daddy gave you. You can have all the skill in the world, but if you don’t have the spirit and aren’t having fun, what’s the point? Be fearless and be spunky. Show those girls you are one of a kind and I’m sure you’ll win everyone’s hearts. Now run off! I’ll be on the bleachers cheering you both on. I love you both so much!” Before True could escape, her mother smothered her with kisses causing the freshman to die a little on the inside. Once she slipped out of the anaconda’s grasp, she grabbed Kit’s hand and started sprinting to the line.

Kit rolled her eyes after Melody showered her daughter with an embarrassing show of affection. “That sucked, man. I don’t think this will be that big of a deal, I hung out like, most of the day with Ophelia and Cassie, so I think we’ll be alright! No worries, easy livin’. Plus if we don’t get on the squad, maybe we can… go get pity donuts with your mom. Then take a nice, long… naaaaaaaap.” Kit said with a massive yawn, rubbing at her eyes as they stood in line. Here we go!

The excitement that permeated the air around the field seemed to roll off of Cassie as she strolled across the field, fashionably late, unsurprising to anyone who knew her. She turned the end zone into a catwalk, strutting over and taking her seat next to Lia, tying her chestnut locks into a ponytail as she looked around at her fellow judges. "Hiya girls! I trust I didn’t miss any excitement? I got held up with some dweeby little freshman who thought I was his one true love,” Cassie explained. In truth, she’d been on the phone with her mother, tucked away in a janitor’s closet, trying to convince her that a new cheer uniform was definitely necessary. Luckily, she’d agreed, meaning Cassie could actually make an appearance on the field, rather than come up with some excuse as to why she couldn’t cheer this year. She made a mental note to hug her mom when she got home before noticing a blonde haired little devil running across the field. "Lia look, it’s our new friend! Hey, Shauna stay away from that one, she’s nice. And she has a friend too! Anyone know the redhead?”

Lia peered off toward whoever Cassie was talking about, squinting. Whaaaat? “What do you mean? That’s Damian’s little sister, babe. How do you not know that?” Ophelia was blissfully unaware that Truly’s entire existence was basically ignored by the whole of the school board. She leaned forward and sipped at her juice, “Her name is Truly. Truly Bliss. But she likes to be called True, understandably I think… You seriously don’t know her? She’s Damian’s sister. Damian. The guy with the big biceps that Brynn used to fawn over until she got Sean… Hey that rhymes!” Ophelia beamed, seemingly pleased with herself for making such a wonderful thing as a rhyme.

Brynn rolled her eyes, “Lia that was one time, and I couldn’t touch him without having him freak the fuck out. I did not fawn over him. He may have the best arms in the Junior class, but that’s besides the point.” She gazed over at the redhead, “I completely forgot he had a sister… oh well.”

Cassie wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Weird...well, not my problem. If she’s as good at cheering as her brother is at getting kicked off of the football team then this should be a cakewalk for her,” Cassie said, smirking slightly, turning her head to face the football team’s gladiator show for a moment. She turned back around and clapped her hands, a grin on her face from the quick show she’d just gotten. "Let’s get this show on the road, shall we!” Cassie said, her excitement clear.

Madison, of course, had heard of Damian’s sister, Truly Bliss. You don’t forget a name like that. Her family is known for pushing the kids, and Damian proved that this could yield good results...physically, at least. Madi didn’t care what her personality was like as long as she could perform the maneuvers well, and from her background, she was either going to show promise, or she was going to break right in front of them. There as a high chance of both happening, actually. The girl next to her showed...less promise, but at least she seemed relaxed. Nerves had taken down many a good prospective cheerleader during tryouts, but if they can’t handle performing some maneuvers in front of a panel, they probably won't be able to perform a routine with hundreds of people watching them. Cassie seemed to know the relaxed one, and claimed she was nice. They would see if ‘nice’ would cut it.

The very worst thing to do was to tell Shauna to stay away from someone. As soon as Cassie had said that to the tourist, Shauna’s eyes honed in. Blonde. That was good, blondes certainly were adventurous. Young. She put the girl at a Freshman level, which was always the ideal preference, and judging by the look in the blonde girl’s eyes she was either overwhelmed or on the verge of collapsing once the sugar high ended. It was like she was drunk without having the alcohol - and that meant Shauna could use that to her advantage. And assuming the blonde didn’t work out she kindly brought a red head along for the ride. Two for one special. Buy one get one free. Or just take the one that was cheaper. “I don’t mind a nice girl, Cassie. She won’t be when I’m done.” She was trying hard not to leer, but her eyes were taking in the new arrivals like a missile locking on. “And the other is named True Bliss? Not until she knows me it isn’t. I was almost worried your squad would be lackluster this season but I’m happy to be wrong.”

Cassie rolled her eyes at Shauna’s comment but left the matter alone. If there was one thing she’d learned while at BHHS, there was no getting Shauna away from a hunt. Hopefully Kit and her friend could manage to steer clear of the Irish shark, for their own good. Neither of them needed to deal with that mess. Madison, on the other hand, couldn’t ignore Shauna any longer, and turned round to look at her. "If you’re going to stand there ogling the Freshmen and saying really suggestive things within earshot, can you at least tone it down so you don’t make any of them more nervous than they already are? Or, I don’t know, stand back or something?"

“You know, Shauna, it’s real weird the way you do things. You ever seen Dazed and Confused? It’s a good look into your future, baby girl. You get older, they stay the same age. If in five years, you hover around the high school hotspots and pick up freshmen, you’ll be like… the female version of that guy who’s 26 and dating a 16 year old girl, but it’s totally chill because like, she’ll totally be 17 in March.” Ophelia rolled her eyes in Shauna’s general direction, and flattened out creases on her skirt. She grabbed a handful of Skittles from her bag, and tossed them into her mouth, chewing them up before she whistled loudly, “Alright line it up! Everybody gets two minutes, no more no less. Don’t suck.” Lia chomped on my Skittles, and smiled at the line of girls who were ready to present themselves to the judges behind the counter.

And the Shark.

Fucking Shauna.

Cassie smirked as the girls lined up, her eyes scanning the group of fresh meat. Some of these girls certainly wouldn’t make it. But others, well, they might get lucky today. Who knew. Cassie’s gaze fell on Kit, the Candies’ newest toy. She grinned, shark-like in nature, or should she say Shauna-like? Pointing to the small blonde, she shouted out a command. “Kit! You’re up first!” Some of the older girls made faces, nothing new. They weren’t pleased to see a freshman get the first tryout. But they could all suck it. Cassie had favorites, better they learn that sooner rather than later.

Kit hadn’t expected to be called on, but hey. Maybe being friends with the Candies did have benefits? She stepped up, pulling True along with her. “Uh, that’s okay with me, but like… I got a thing I’m gonna do? Like, with my friend? So I mean if it’s all the same to you guys… We’re gonna do our thing?” Kit asked the judges, and Ophelia shrugged her shoulders to indicate that she didn’t care, and Kit nodded, giving an awkward thumbs up. “So we made this up yesterday and we practiced it like… once, but I don’t need to practice really anything, on account of… I’m the best. So look out, here we come.” Ophelia raised her eyebrows, then Kit looked over at True and gave her the same awkward thumbs up. Let’s go.

Truth be told, True was not as timid as she came across. The only reason she was being a little shy was because of this damn outfit. On a normal basis, she dressed conservative, yet cute and classy. Her mom said you can be fully clothed and still be sexy as hell. So unless she’s home in a tank and shorts, eating whatever food she could find in the fridge, her most important parts were covered and some. She could feel the breeze on her tush and her tummy was out in the open for display! On top of that, there was hardly any mystery. She was completely exposed and there was no fantasy behind the scandalous outfits. Nope. It was what it was.

Maybe, it wasn’t a bad thing, if he liked what he saw, but if this was all for not, she’d die. Right here, right now. True absolutely had to make the team. If she made the team, it could potentially get someone’s eyes on her. When a girl from her mother’s side set their eyes on a prize, they could accomplish anything. Driven to the core, it was part of her genetics!

Oh!

Kit was giving her a thumbs up. It was go time? It was go time! True was too focused on staring at the hem of her skirt to realize they needed to start. Lifting her wrist up, which had a her customized Oracle watch on it, with the colors of sherbert and a built in Assistant, True cleared her throat, before saying, “Cupid, bluetooth. Play T-Swift Cheer Remix.” Her dad loved Taylor Swift, and so did she! This was exactly one minute and 20 seconds. A quick mix made by a Darling. Extremely fast for a routine, but she had faith in her and Kit.

Before they actually started, Kit took a quick look at her bestie, and silently wondered if she was high enough for this. Probably not.

When the music started to build up, True gave her friend a nod and they both started to back up. All girls around them gave them the space they needed, creating two lines on each side of them, giving them field to the front and back, which caused the two freshmen to really be in the spotlight. True came to a stopping point at what she deemed the center of their ‘stage’ and rolled her shoulders, as her premeditated stretch. Then Taylor Swift began to sing. That’s when the girls started to match each other in dance moves.

True’s heart accelerated. They were center stage. She was being seen. Finally. Letting her inhibitions fly away, she started to walk forward with the music, while Kit went backwards. Her arms left her body, from a dagger position to a touchdown, and then quickly, she fanned her stretched arms down like two clock hands going the opposite direction in one quick beat, two quick beats. Her eyes were on fire as she looked straight at the judges and beamed her most attractive smile that yes, her daddy gave her! Her arms went down her body, almost like she was feeling herself and landed at her hips, as she sensually oscillated her waist like nobody was watching.

This turned into both girls doing a slow backflip, but while Kit continued to go back, even more than she had already gone, steadily, slowly, so she wasn’t the focal point, all eyes fell on True as she dropped to the ground and did some quick contemporary floor work, which was a definite showcase of her flexibility. Like how even did her body bend like that?

Soon enough, True rolled out and the song immediately sped up. Then, came the part that Kit really liked! Flips. Flips were awesome, and flips worked for her. She’d done gymnastics since forever, and this was her chance to look cool! There was the benefit of Selena watching, but honestly? Kit liked being in the spotlight, always had. A bunch of people behind a table staring at them, the people in line to the sides of them? Also staring. Life was good.

Kit took a second to breathe, just a second — they didn’t have a whole lot of seconds. She launched herself backwards, and did a smooth back handspring, and she turned herself slightly to the side, then did it again. And again. And again. And again. Honestly? She would have done it again! But her shift was over; she’d done an entire circles worth of continuous back handsprings, sticking her feet down after coming out of the last one, and then got ready to get out of the way and wait her turn for round two!

Suddenly, when the song slowed down, Kit ran off revealing True behind her holding a handstand and her legs, as well as her body, going along with the song, like waves, elegant legs dancing in the air, showing True’s strength and control. Her back was facing them, and she leaned her body towards them, still holding the stand… a little bit more, get closer to the ground, keep going…. Don’t give out…

Phew! She did it! That was intense. And then she brought her body straight up once more and opened her legs into a wide split for Kit to fly over.

Kit was of the opinion that she had the easy part of the job. True had to stay balanced and stuff and hold onto core strength… Kit just had to do what she would have done anyway! She positioned herself and did more back handsprings, bringing herself toward her balancing friend, and once she was in range, Kit launched herself extra high, flipping and twisting her body an extra rotation as she soared through the air, so that she stuck the landing facing the judging table.

The music came to an end as Kit grinned at all of the older women, and she raised up a hand and brought it to her shoulder, brushing the dirt off. Get that dirt off your shoulder, that’s what Dad would say.

Ophelia stared at the pair for a second, before looking over at her companions, before shrugging as if to say simply ‘I dunno, lol.’ Then, she did the natural thing: she clapped. There was no doubt these two had synergy together. A dynamic duo. While Kit did her smug thing, True slowly put herself upright and continued to smile, but her stomach was in painnnnnnn. As long as she was in front of the judges, she had to act like she was cool. So cool. Walking up to her friend, True gave Kit a warm embrace and giggled, “We did it!” It was so hot. Perhaps short skirts weren’t such a bad idea.

Kit nodded in agreement as she gave True a kiss on the cheek before looking over at the judges. Kit cleared her throat, trying to catch her breath, “hey, uh. Could I get one of those Gatorades? I need to replenish my electrolytes. BeforeIfallasleepwhereIstand.”

Brynn was a little stunned by what she had just seen, but in the best way possible. These youngins had talent, there was no denying that, which meant that there was hope for the future of the team. With a smirk, she reached under the table and grabbed two Gatorades, tossing one to each girl. “Drink up, you certainly earned it.” She stated, glancing over to the other girls at the table to hear their thoughts.

Cassie was beaming. This was the kind of skill this team needed. “That was great! I loved it! That thing you did with your legs and the flips and UGH! It was great,” Cassie said, bubbly and exuding the pep that one would expect from a cheerleader. “Damian’s Little Sister, you were great, Kit you were great, you were both great, long story short, I loved it!” Cassie exclaimed. Cassie turned to her fellow judges. “Anything to add girls?”

Madison, also beaming, shook her head at Cassie, before looking over at the two girls. She was very happy to have been proven right about True, and wrong about Kit. "Not a thing, Cassie. That was indeed some amazing, amazing cheerleading from two rookies. The moves, the presentation, the faces, the planning, the story...I’d have to get incredibly nitpicky to fault it anywhere, but I’m not going to ruin this moment. You two have just made my job a lot harder, because now I’ll need to go away and think of things that I can actually teach you! Great job!"

Selena quietly kept appraising the younger girls whilst Brynn, Cassie, and Madison shamelessly gushed. “That was surprisingly decent, but there’s always room for improvement. They’re okay with me.” Sel sounded harsher than her peers, but this was relatively high praise from the silver princess.

If there was one person who was exuberant to a bit of the extreme following the routines, it was Shauna Flynn. She hadn’t kept her eyes off the duo as they did their flips and splits and showed just why the Irish Shark had a thing for Freshmen - doubly so for Freshmen that happened to be so utterly flexible. When the routine finished, Shauna was out of her chair, clapping, the spotlight turning - metaphorically - to her once more. Just as she liked it. Her claps were the loudest. A standing ovation of one. And were it not for the fact that the actual cheerleaders might tackle her (which in its own way was appealing) she would certainly have covered the distance between applicants and judges and thrown her arms around both girls. Shauna knew the benefit of foreplay, though. “Girls, I think I speak for everyone on this cheer council that you’ve certainly secured a place on the team, if not my heart, and I want you both to know that as something of a professional in the field of vertical and horizontal based routines that my door is always open for anyone who would like a little one on one, two on one, private lesson. In fact, I extend that offer starting now. With me, you’ll be at the top of the pyramid in no time at all.” The sincerity of her words and tone almost masked the sinister meaning behind every word Shauna spoke.

Ophelia rolled her eyes. Shauna was too much, far too much, far too often. She cleared her throat, and leaned forward, looking over at Shauna, “babe… you’re not actually on the cheer council. You just show up to try and get sharky on kids. Smooth though, wicked smooth. I’m gonna steal the bit about routines.” She explained, before looking out at Kit and True, though as she opened her mouth, Kit held up her hand to hold Ophelia off, which was brave. Extremely so, and before Ophelia could even say anything, Kit was launching into one of her tirades.

“Two things: firstly basic common sense dictates that I would be at the top of the pyramid anyway on account of I’m very small. Secondly… you’re Shauna right? You’re icky so no thanks! That’s what I’ve been told anyway and I trust the source of said statement so I’m good on that. Can I get another Gatorade?” She asked, waving around the empty bottle in her hand. Behind the table, Ophelia giggled and looked over at Shauna.

“You heard the girl. You’re icky. Don’t you have drama club? Go deal with that, or something. You can pick up the sad ones later today. I promise you, there will be sad ones. Now! That being said! Kit and True, you’re on the squad.”

“Wewwwwww, lad.”

“WAIT. You’re Shauna? Like ‘fuck Shauna’ Shauna? You know how to get anyone you want? Like ANYONE?” While Kit went the ‘icky’ route, Truly Bliss couldn’t help but see an opportunity to learn from an expert in courting. Her eyes lit up with excitement. Her goal was achieved, she got on the squad (for personal reasons), and now she had someone who wanted to teach her. Teach her, her ways! Maybe she should take her up on this opportunity. But, Shauna’s targets were a specific gender… hmmm…. That might be problematic.

"You’ve both heard of me, I’m flattered. And I assure you, there’s nothing icky about me unless you happen to live in the Bible Belt.” Shauna didn’t even seem to mind the comment. She’d heard worse. She wasn’t giving up on either pursuit - though Ophelia’s remark about the sad ones was true enough; she wasn’t exactly desperate for the prize but Kit and True were fighters. They made the chase worth it. "However, yes, I am Shauna and yes the goal is to, indeed. ‘Fuck Shauna’ and that is an open invitation, girls. I don’t know about anyone but my black book is rather full of red marks. Just ask one of your cheer leaders here, I’m sure one of them has had their world changed. But I’d love to tell you all about my technique. Perhaps over dinner. I’ll even be sure to make you breakfast.”

As intriguing as the offer sounded and as much as the inexperienced girl wanted experience, True’s mind went elsewhere, as her gaze turned to the bleachers, where her mother was waiting. It wasn’t like she’d agree to the invitation anyways. Her heart belonged to someone else. “Uh, maybe some other time. I have somewhere to be.” Nowhere in particular. More like she had an engagement with someone.

She looked at Shauna with a pleasant smile, before turning to Ophelia, “Thank you for the opportunity! As much as I’d like to stay and hang out with the girls, tonight isn’t going to be a good night for the O’Connor house… I don’t think… man, it’s going to be terrible.” The daunting realization of how much tonight would suck, having no idea Damian was going to make it ten times worse by avoiding their house all together, was settling in. “I could catch you later? My digits are on that form thingy you had us sign.” Actually, True was going to find a way out of this mess no matter what and maybe track down a certain someone. Now that she got on the team, she could focus on what was more important. Her heart’s desire. Priorities.

Melody wasn’t hard to convince either, especially since Truly Bliss wasn’t the one on the hot seat. For once, her brother was the one in trouble, a lot of trouble, and not her. Honestly, her mother would probably prefer having a private conversation with her son, so yes, True had a chance to escape and do what she wanted. So, she’d take it.

Turning her body to her bestie and putting her hands on her shoulders, True’s expression turned serious. Super serious. “Are you going to stay with them or do you need a ride home? You. Need. Sleep”

“Whaaaat? No, I’m okay. I got Red Bull, in my bag.” Kit said with a dumb smile and a wink, before she leaned in further. “You’re coming with me,” she hissed in a low voice, before pulling True behind the table and toward Ophelia, their first class ticket to Candyland. Were there beds in Candyland? She certainly hoped so…

Ophelia shrugged her shoulders, and then went back to directing traffic. Only one spot left on the squad now! And together, the council waded through the oncoming girls, each more desperate than the last, but none of them really having what they were looking for (Shauna notwithstanding). Unfortunately, they went through almost the entire line, before someone (coincidentally, another freshman) did something impressive.

Ophelia clapped her hands and smiled, “That was awesome! I think you’re the — wait, hold up.” Ophelia looked down at her phone, reading a text from Hailey. “...who’s Hana park? Does anyone know who that is? No? You know what? It doesn’t matter. Sorry kid, you’re out, Hana’s in. Hailey’s call.”

The younger girl’s eyes went wide as if Ophelia had ripped away her favorite toy, and she opened her mouth to protest, before Ophelia held up a hand. “Are you gonna tell Hailey no?” The girl froze, before shaking her head slowly and Ophelia shrugged her shoulders. “That’s what I thought. Maybe next time, kid.” The girl’s eyes started to water, but Ophelia just gave her an apologetic shrug.

With that, she turned to the others in the group. “Okay~ Let’s go to Candyland.” She said happily, and Kit gave a thumbs up. Then Ophelia looked at Shauna and pointed at the crying freshman. “Enjoy.”

The BHHS cheer squad had gained a handful of new hopefuls this night, and a few of them even brought along some inherent talent. Selena had been quite impressed with the dual performance of True and Kit, though she was not nearly as vocal about it as Brynn and the other girls had been. Brynn. Selena seethed internally about how her interactions with the brunette had gone earlier. She would be speaking with Hailey about how to handle the issue of maintaining an aura of respect from her subjects. Twas better to be feared than loved, and Selena still had a lot of learning to do if she was meant to successfully rule Beverly Hills High in the Hailstorm’s stead.

Ophelia seemed rather excited to get back to her house along with a bunch of the so-called Candies after tryouts had ended, for whatever reason. It was probably something cheesy and romantic, or a girls night, if Selena had to guess it. Sel acted like she didn’t care, but part of her was a little bit jealous. A small part. Selena offered to stay behind and clean up after tryouts so that they could get to doing whatever it was that they had to do. Really, she would be thankful for the moment alone to stew. She needed it.

Selena was stressed. She was only half a queen for half a day, and she was already exhausted. How did Hailey do this? Maybe she didn’t have as much going on outside of school… like a depressed brother, or a family full of secrets. Or maybe she did… and that’s why she was taking a hiatus. After gathering the last of the papers off of the table and sliding them into her bag, Selena folded up a couple of chairs. She carried the metal folding chairs off to the sidelines to hang them up by the bleachers.

Connor had been meandering around the bottom of the bleachers for some time now, admiring the California sky that was slowly but surely changing from a brilliant violet to a pitch black. He was avoiding going back to his uncle’s house, but if someone didn’t come along soon, he’d be forced to resign out of boredom. Luckily, an opportunity presented itself.

The girl was blonde, beautiful, and a cheerleader. ‘Perfect. She checks every box,’ he thought, grinning devilishly as she strolled up, carrying a couple of metal chairs. She had an aura of tension wafting off of her, and her face was stern. Anyone with eyes could see that. Connor pulled out a cigarette and lit up, taking a drag and exhaling before waltzing up the girl. “You look stressed, Blondie. How can I help?” he asked, turning the charm on full blast.

Sel hefted the chairs up onto the hooks and pushed them flush with the others that were hanging there. She smoothed out her short skirt, which had hiked up even further when she reached up to get the chairs in place. Sighing, Selena looked at whoever just dared to speak to her. Of course she couldn’t just be alone for a moment, the universe couldn’t be so kind. Her eyes found an unfamiliar face. A handsome one, if she was being honest.

Trailing her eyes slowly from his head to his toes, Selena assessed this stranger. He was refreshingly well-dressed. The eccentric print of his top screamed Valentino design, and his pants had the tell-tale lines of Versace. Very nice indeed. Her gaze halted at the cigarette hanging from his mouth and she curled her lip up in slight disgust. “Smoking kills, you know.”

Connor couldn’t help but smirk. First this girl blatantly looks him up and down, then she comments on his cigarette. California girls. “Maybe that’s the point, Blondie,” Connor retorted, taking a drag and blowing the smoke out in her direction. Not in her face or even very close, just near enough to show her that he didn’t give a fuck who her daddy was.

The blonde rolled her eyes at his second use of his not-so-cute, and certainly not clever, nickname for her. What he had said still held some weight, however. “Maybe that’s the point.” Edgy, dangerous… intriguing. Selena cocked up a perfectly groomed eyebrow and otherwise had kept her facial expression even and cool. Wordlessly, she stepped towards Mr. Mysterious and held out her hand with her index and middle fingers poised in a ‘V’ shape to accept his cigarette. Selena had never smoked a single day in her entire life, yet she looked entirely comfortable and natural in this silent request. Or perhaps it was a challenge.

The shit-eating grin that was ever present on the rebel without a cause’s face only grew when the cheerleader made a silent gesture, asking for his cigarette. Silently he placed the cig into her awaiting fingers, with more care than one might expect from the ruffian. “So, the princess has a dark side,” Connor remarked. This girl was transparent, at least to him. The way she wore her hair, the way she strutted, the way she looked at him, it all screamed entitlement. He kinda liked it.

“It’s Selena.” Selena said and then actually smiled at the man. That was a rarity that few people in BHHS ever got to see, at least in a genuine sense. Such moments were reserved for shopping trips and frozen yogurt dates with Jamie, or when she was around her cousin Trixie — back when Trix was in better spirits — yet, somehow this stranger had managed to crack through Sel’s prickly exterior. But how… and what for? “Not Blondie, nor Princess.” Sel felt her cheeks get hot at that, and she quickly continued on as coolly and aloof as possible.

“Selena Sterling. You’d do well to remember it if you plan to stick around here for very long.” At that, Sel turned her attention to the cigarette that was nestled between her fingers. Smoking helped people that felt stressed, right? Why else would someone do something that knowingly risked their health, if not to relieve themselves in some way? She’d come this far, so she had to do something. Who knows, maybe it would help her feel a little better... So, Selena took a long, hard drag from the cigarette.

A fatal mistake.

The smoke snaked like fire, burning it’s way through her throat and lungs as she breathed it in. Jesus, was she not supposed to inhale? Water welled up in her eyes as she attempted to fight off the cough that was clawing at her throat. Much to her chagrin, she failed, and the petite blonde was helplessly reduced to a horrid coughing fit. Having caught her breath, Selena attempted to recover by daintily clearing her throat. “Ahem… no thank you.” She said in a light, raspy voice as she passed the offending cancer stick back to him.

Connor couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips, pushing it’s way past and into the smoky air that lay between him and Selena. “Don’t worry, Selena,” Connor said, putting emphasis on her name to prove that he could say it, “First hits are always a mess. So, what is there to do around here, other than max out daddy’s credit card and do fun cheer routines?” Connor continued, the snark clear in his tone. For someone whose father was being considered for a presidential bid, Connor held a lot of disdain for the upper class that so densely populated the Hills. Well, less a disdain of them, and more a disdain of what they, and people like his father, stood for. Rules and structure and elitism. Three of his least favorite things.

Selena’s smile shifted into something that would better be described as a crooked grin. Silly boy, Pearce Sterling’s credit cards didn’t have a max. “Such big talk for a man dressed in… Valentino and Versace, is it? I’m assuming the shoes are brand as well, and the jacket. You dress quite nicely, so what exactly makes you and I so different, hmm, tough guy?”

Connor cocked his head, and smirked. She knew Valentino and Versace. Maybe he was just as transparent to her as she was to him. “You’ve caught me,” Connor said, feigning surrender and rolling his eyes. “And here I was thinking you were just like every other blonde I’ve met, but no. You’ve got brains. I like that. I dress nicely because I was born into it, but I don’t deserve a cent of the money I spend. Neither do you, and neither do ninety nine percent of the douche bags at this school. But we all spend it up anyways. Why? Because we can. So maybe, there isn’t much difference between us. Other than the fact that I can smoke without coughing,” Connor said, winking with his last remark.

Smug. Selena looked positively smug at his response. He was damn right she caught him, she made a living out of her observation (see also: judging) skills. The jab at the end, punctuated with a wink, had her feeling a different type of way, though. A bad way… no, a good way. Somewhere in between. She liked it. Selena turned on her heel to head back to the field to get more chairs. Expecting that he would know enough to follow her, she continued to speak as she started to walk away. “That, and I have a name. Do you have one, or shall I also give you a nickname based on face value alone? Rebel? … Hypocrite?” Sel smirked over her shoulder at the last word.

Oh, she was good at this. He dropped his burnt out cigarette on the ground and stamped it out before following her. “Connor. Connor Prince,” he said, smirking. “I’m from New York, but I’m staying here with my uncle for an… indefinite amount of time,” he said, rolling his eyes when he mentioned his uncle. That was still a bit of a sore spot, but he figured he had to give her some info about himself. Girls didn’t want to sleep with shadows. They wanted to sleep with shadows that they thought they knew.

“Prince?” Selena responded almost incredulously. Was he still toying with her? Surely that wasn’t the actual surname of someone that just accused her of being a princess not moments ago. He wasn’t wrong in his assumption, actually he was amusingly spot on. “A mysterious new transplant, how alluring.” She mused aloud, whether or not that was sarcastic was too be determined, and went to work folding up some remaining chairs now that they were back out on the field. “To answer your previous question, there’s not much worthwhile to do around here… but, you did offer to help me.” Sel gestured towards the table that remained to be broken down and carried to the the sidelines. And then she walked away from him… again.

Connor smirked. She had a point. He followed her over to the field where he folded up the table that the judges had been seated at earlier and hefted it under his arm. “You never did tell me what had your panties in a twist earlier. It couldn’t have been me, seeing as how I hadn’t even graced you with my presence yet. Don’t tell me it’s a boyfriend,” Connor inquired, sarcasm rampant in his tone, masking his genuine curiosity about this mysterious bombshell he’d stumbled upon. For once, someone was keeping up with him. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed.

“Ha. I don’t do relationships.” Well, that was one way to put it. It came off as sounding cool, and non-committal, which might have been her intent? Selena honestly responded before thinking about her words, which she was usually very careful not to do. It wasn’t exactly a lie, per se, she didn’t do relationships… because she’s never had one. Despite Brynn’s knowledgeable sex coaching and promise to be a wingwoman, Sel had still never even gotten close to having something resembling romance. She’d kissed a boy once in fifth grade, and that was it, but Connor Prince didn’t need to know that. “It’s nothing, just some of those silly one percenter stresses. I’m sure you know the type.” That statement was more of a direct lie than the first, but this stranger had no rights to her personal business.

“Well that’s great because neither do I,” Connor said, flashing a toothy grin at Selena. Where as the blonde had been fudging the truth a bit about her and her relationship with commitment, Connor was not. He had dined and dashed at many a girl’s home, but he was not one for commitment. He’d been taught by one of his friends in New York that commitment this young was a trap, to keep you from experiencing the pleasures of life. So far, he’d yet to find a girl that could prove that statement wrong. “God damn the world and all that one percenter stress,” Connor said, chuckling a bit as he carted the table over to the bleachers. Once he’d placed the table down he spun around to face Selena, smirking. “So, when were you going to invite me over? I was hoping today, but I understand if one percenter stress has you busy.”

Selena was not prepared for that. Really, she should have been, because she was laying on whatever alternate universe femme fatale Selena persona this was fairly thick. It was a fun distraction, but the proposition of this man wanting to go to her home, most likely to sleep with her, snapped her back to reality. “How… bold. You really do have a lot to learn while you’re here.”

She reached up to hang the last of the chairs now, having recovered from her momentarily stunned state. Sel adjusted the strap of her pale pink Fendi bag over her shoulder and met his gaze head on. “Thanks for the help, but I am a bit busy, I guess I’ll have to see you around, Prince.”

Connor smirked. It was worth a shot. “See ya around, Princess.”

Benedict and Arnold’s habitat on the Green compound was undeniable proof that when you threw enough money at something, you get what you want. For how stupidly over the top and extravagant it was, it was a damn shame that the pair of capybaras spent most of their time inside the house, hanging out with Henry, Parker, Min, or some variation of the three together. Their habitat was a man made river, with large trees surrounding it. It went in a small circle, and the water flowed in a direction, which made it perfect for relaxing. Henry could often be found, lazing on an air mattress, with Benedict and Arnold on either side while he floated down the river. Typically, he did so accompanied by a joint or a bottle of booze.

Today, Henry was accompanied by both. There was an ice chest that floated beside him, kept cool mostly from the water surrounding it. It contained a single bottle of the alcohol of the day: peppermint schnapps. Was it gay? Probably. But Henry was having a fucking god awful day and he didn’t care if he looked gay. He’d had to go to fucking detention for christ’s sake. Which, by the way, he didn’t deserve.

Resting on his chest now was a dab pen that had done a wonderful of dulling the mental and emotional exhausting of the day by instead drowning it out with a purple, THC influenced haze. This, to Henry, made it easier to think. Coupled with the buzz from the schnapps, and Henry was in a pretty decent place, all things considered. This was when he was at his best, mentally speaking. This was the only way he could come up with a genius plan to deal with all this crap.

There was a third thing that he was waiting for, that Hana was supposed to be bringing to him, but for now, Henry was doing alright. He had his babies swimming beside him, and the speakers hanging from the trees above him played soft music, an older song that he’d heard in a movie forever and a half ago.



Looking up at the cloudy sky, Henry considered things. Why did he agree to help them? Oh, right. Because they wanted to stick it to his sister — but Damian cracked like a fucking bitch at the first scent of woman. Hailey and the goons were let inside like it was nothing, and it damn near broke Owen’s resolve. Maybe he’d lost his mind a bit too much, but hey. They deserved it, fucking cunts.

Then, Hailey just left. She just turned around and left. It wasn’t surprising to Henry, he knew Hailey well enough to know why she’d left. It’d just been another show of power from her, another way to say “By the way, Satan always gets her way.”



That much was true whenever Hailey was involved. She was basically the Omen, and Henry’s mind was fucking blown everytime his parents didn’t see anything wrong with the shit she did. Really, in a lot of ways, Henry wanted to give up. Apparently, Hailey had the power over the Weekend Warrior too, since all it had done was take shots at them. There had been one or two attacks on Hailey and her bitch brigade, but anything against Hailey was low hanging fruit.

Besides, the Weekend Warrior hadn’t painted Hailey or her friends as the enemy, the villains of the night. That honor rested with Henry, Damian, and Owen. Trevor, it seemed, had skated by simply because he hadn’t done anything anything that could be painted as controversial. Henry though? He’d clearly taken advantage of Paker. Owen? Obviously, a homophobic gay beater. Damian? The mastermind behind the whole thing. No, the Weekend Warrior was used a vehicle to push the idea that the Elite were evil, their intentions were moreso. Stealers Wheel had a point: Something ain’t right.



Henry definitely wasn’t afraid. He couldn’t speak for all of them, in fact he suspected that Damian might be afraid. It was too much, too fast. The punishment from the school was unfair, to say the least. It was overwhelming, and it stole Damian’s identity from him, more or less. Without football, what was he? Owen… Owen was a harder nut to crack. Henry knew, just from the way he acted and spoke, that Owen was still very much in love with Trixie.

It was almost sad, when he really thought about it. And Henry Green didn’t often admit when things were sad. From what he understood, their breakup was caused by the meddling of Ophelia and Hailey which… sounded about right. That was why Owen had been present, that was why he’d helped. He wanted revenge, and to get his girl back. But would it happen? Maybe. Maybe not. Owen, Owen may have been afraid of the idea that he couldn’t win.

He’d done nothing wrong, and gotten stabbed in the back. Henry had chastised him about it a bit. Trusting Hailey, even slightly, was just getting yourself ready for the bite of a snake. Did Owen deserve it? Absolutely note. He reckoned that the entire situation sprung as retaliation over something he’d done ages ago, defying Hailey. Henry could agree with that. Hailey was such a control freak that even the slightest bump in her life had to be quickly smoothed out. Now, for all intents and purposes, the Owen bump was smoothed out.



That was fair. Stairs weren’t the right word, weren’t the right metaphor. At least not down the stairs. Henry had to climb up the stairs, and he had to pull the dead weight of the Elite the whole goddamn way. Henry would be damned if he was going to go down in history as the reason Hailey managed to flex on the Elite.

As a group, the Elite were volatile. Damian was himself; he was the king, he was the charisma, the it factor. He was hot and everyone loved him. But, he was very emotional. He overreacted, he was dramatic. Then you had Owen. Owen was angry, blinded by anger and pain and hatred and all variety of negative emotions. Then, there was Trevor. Trevor was the simplest there; his major flaw was that he was just too goddamn sweet. It was honestly gross. There was a fourth one, but they hadn’t been around in a while, so Henry chose not to think about them.

They had something that the HOT girls. The Elite, despite all their individual problems, were a unit. They were friends. A group. Inseparable. Hailey and hers? They were fake friends because the felt obligated to be.

With a little bit of work, Henry would whip them into shape and everything would be back to normal. He’d beat the life back into them, and they’d square up for round two sooner rather than later.



A little harsh, but basically. Henry was a consultant, but he was a consultant for what was a group of a bunch of people who had no idea what they were doing or who they were messing with or what they needed to do next. Damian thought the fight was over, but it wasn’t. That was just round one of what was sure to be a war. The war against Hailey would be a battle of attrition.

Henry felt like he’d done a good job of getting Owen refocused. When Owen had been getting ready to leave, to run away after the girls had made their way inside, Henry had stopped him and they’d had a conversation. He’d told Owen what he was confident of: the only way to get Trixie back was to deal with the Omen and her Demons. Maybe with that wall out of the place, he could talk to Trixie.

Henry had told Owen the truth: the break up was half his fault, half Trixie’s. Sure, it was driven by outside factors, but ultimately it fell back on the two involved. It was their responsibility to talk and to work things out. If nothing had happened, then Henry knew it would be as easy a discussion before things were back to normal. “But,” Henry had warned, “forgive, bro. Don’t forget.” Time would heal all wounds, but Henry felt it would be best if he warned Owen to keep his guard up at first, should he and Trixie fall back for each other.



Henry was stuck in the middle. He was sandwiched in between the Elite, in some kind of sick, gross fantasy Marshall had surely had. At first, it had been simple. Henry was fucking with Hailey because he liked doing so, so he’d taken a clear role not fully involved in the Elite. He’d been a consultant. No more. Henry would take his place as an official member of the squad soon enough.

Fuck it, boy band time.

Henry cracked open an eye and saw they had floated an entire lap. Henry caught himself on a piece of grass, and brought it to a stop, shoring himself, his ice chest, his floaty, and Arnold. Henry rolled up onto the grass and stood up to his full height. “Cut the track. Come on, Ben, what are you doing? It’s time to roll.” He gestured, and the second capybara pulled himself out of the water and onto the shore. Both of the animals shook themselves, slooshing water around.

Henry brought the dab pen up to his lips, hitting the button. He inhaled and let the smoke out with a couple of coughs. A plan was beginning to form in his head. “How hard you guys think it is to get a meeting with the Weekend Warrior? An interview, dig? I need to hit up the big dog.” Henry tugged the air mattress behind himself, dangled the ice chest of peppermint schnapps on his arm, and had a pet on either side of himself as he and his two beloved capybaras headed toward the castle entrance.

Time to play the fucking game. Let’s go, Hailey. By fire be fucking purged, bitch. Henry Green was going to bring the world crashing down around that bitch.

Wait, why did everyone in her fantasy look so familiar? Biting her thumb, as she laid on a chaise lounge chair, Ilyana Powers snapped back to reality, having danced around the animal kingdom that was her school for far too long. It wasn’t even lunch time yet and she’s already had a dozen fantasies. Some having no relation to the other at all. The imagery played out so vividly and she couldn’t help herself. But enough was enough.

This only gave her more questions!

Why do they fight? Why do we watch? Why is there so much pain? Why hasn’t anyone done anything about the tyrannical Queen? “Why do kids care so much about being shiny? What’s so great about being popular?” Rose paused realizing her questions were no longer in her head. Shrugging, she continued to talk out loud what was on her mind, “I guess I can see it making people feel beautiful but mommy and daddy says the most beautiful things can’t be seen, can’t be touched. Beautiful things are felt in the heart. But why do people think being shiny is beautiful?”

Doctor Thomas had to stop and think for a moment about what Rose had asked him. Why do people think being shiny is beautiful? That would have been a good question to ask his wife, once upon a time. He had to ponder for a few moments, before he finally had an answer for her. “I can’t be sure. No one can really be sure about the answer to that question, but I think people just want to be accepted. It’s natural, to want that. People want to be wanted, it’s really just human nature.” The Doctor explained, tapping his chin. “Why do you think people like that so much? You don’t want to be shiny, or popular. Why not?”

“I mean I do, but it’s different… I don’t know how to explain it.” Sitting up, Rose tugged at the ends of her hair, “High school doesn’t seem like… the place? To be spectacular. I’m only sixteen!” If anything, she should enjoy being young, right? “And like…” She stood up and paced around the room, “I have a lot to live up to! My shine has to be mommy and daddy’s level of shine but like it’s got to be my own. I don’t want to feel trapped. Caged. If being popular at school means faking who you are, I don’t want any part of it! I’m happy with people like my brother! A Double is the best. I think the best shine is the shine you give to others, like making people smile. Genuine smiles. Not that fake stuff all the pretty girls do nowadays.” She approached her therapist and pointed her finger at him, “Did you care? About being shiny? What makes you shine?”

Well, that was an easy answer. “Kit and Molly.” Two words, and the answer couldn’t be any truer. Oliver shrugged his shoulders, before he addressed the latter half of her question. “Well, no, I mostly just hung out with Alex and Sully when I was younger — er, those are my two friends. I didn’t really care about being popular because I was having fun. I had a privileged life, though. I think if you can be happy, then that’s what you should do. Everyone should chase what makes them happy, or shiny. If you’re worried about feeling trapped, then you’re right. Don’t shine at school.”

Oliver smiled at her, “by the way, Rose. You shouldn’t compare yourself to your mother and father. You don’t have to be as big as they are, to make them proud.”

Thinking about his words for a second, Rose took out a packet of gum and offered him some, “What if I’m nothing? What if I disappear?” She was always surrounded by extraordinary things, being ordinary seemed like something near impossible for her. What was normal anyways? She knew she could smoke weed and dropout of school and her parents would help her through whatever. Her mother wouldn’t necessarily be stoked about her not getting at least a high school diploma, but she wouldn’t scold her for her decisions either. Learning from her mistakes was important to growing as a person. It’s part of the process of ‘chasing what makes them happy’.

“If that happens, then you get to be something a lot of people would be jealous of: peaceful. Trust me, disappearing isn’t that bad of a reality. You get to be relaxed, and comfortable, and free. There’s no reason to really be anything special. Sure, you can be, but you might not want to be. You might want to be… left alone. And that doesn’t mean you don’t have friends, or family that you’re close with. That just means that you’re not pushed to meet people, and a bunch of random people don’t seek you out. It might be nice.”

Slumping down back on the chair, Rose shoved the rest of her gum in her mouth. The more she ate, the bigger the bubble. It was important. And minty. Trying to chew as politely as possible, but still having a lot of gum in her mouth, she softly said to herself, “Maybe that’s why I like fantasy so much.” And then her thoughts took a 180 and she urgently chirped, “DOC!” Pause. Blow bubble.

Pop!

Okay continue. “How was your first kiss?”

At this, Oliver raised an eyebrow. That was not a question like what Rose usually had in her mind, where did it come from? “Well, it was a little sloppy. It wasn’t perfect, but… I enjoyed it, and it was definitely special. ...why? What’s up, Rose? That’s not something you normally ask...”

Although Rose’s cheek flared, because the thought of her first kiss made her flustered and embarrassed, she kept a serious face, dodging his question(s), “Can you tell me more about it? Like where? Was it with your wife? Was it for fun?”

Oliver had to think, and think hard to bring up such ancient memories. It took him some time, but he eventually recalled it. “It was… at my house, my parents house. Yes, it was with Molly. Uh… I think it’s fair to say it was for fun, looking back. We weren’t serious yet, at that point.”

Rose threw herself on the ground and sprawled out, face buried in the rug. She was just a joke to him! He took away her first kiss because it was for fun and now she had to live with that for the rest of her life. Being a teenager was stupid. “I need weed.” Her voice was muffled due to how she was lying on the ground.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, but laid down on his stomach beside her on the floor, turning his head to face her. “Rose. What happened?” He asked quietly, reaching into his jacket pocket and withdrawing a pre-rolled joint, which he slid toward her.

Oh thank god. She’d wait to smoke it so his office didn’t smell like weed. Doc was her savior. But this was also a trade. He gives her weed, she tells him… more. “SO.” She brought her head up and held the joint in her hand, making sure it didn’t get away, “There’s someone I haven’t talked to in like… years? Outside of class and whatever. It was entirely my choice. I just, I don’t know. Things were changing. Things felt weird. Things weren’t like they use to be. We are two very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very…” Stop stalling. “...very, very, very different people. There was this really big party where I made an awesome food tower with my boy Raf. Well, that’s beside the point. Some girls had asked me to take their picture and that turned into people just coming to me while I’m doing my own thing and asking me to take pictures with their phones. I shoulda’ got paid for that stuff. Like seriously. It was a lot of pictures I took.”

Man, she got easily distracted.

“I’m on the dance floor because I’m super high as a kite and I couldn’t find my friends anywhere. Turns out A Double totally left without me and Raf. Took his girl to Micky D’s. I’m so jealous he went to McDonalds. I could’ve had so much food! Quarter pounder. Fries in shake. SO MUCH FOOD.”

Focus, Rose.

“Okay, okay, so I feel a tap on my shoulder thinking it was like another person wanting me to take their picture. I turn around and the next thing I know I’m kissing a boy. Not just any boy. A boy I used to know! And now I’m super sad because I feel used and abused and taken advantage of because everyone keeps saying kissing is for fun but mommy and daddy kiss because they love each other.” After her words came spilling out, she caught her breath. Her life was OVER!

That was a lot to take in. He had to approach this carefully, to make sure that she didn’t freak out anymore than she already did. “I don’t think you should be sad about that. It sounds kinda exciting. Now, you might be right to feel the way that you feel, but Rose… maybe you should look at it as an exciting experience, instead of something being stolen from you, you know? I get it, you probably had an idea of it being like this perfect experience for you, but, sometimes our fantasies are taken away from us. That doesn’t mean that reality has to be a bad thing, though.”

“But what does it MEAN?” With her free hand, Rose pulled her gum out and twirled it around her finger. Exciting things still have purpose right? People don’t just up and kiss some random girl, do they? But the thing was, she and he… he and her… they KNEW each other.

“It’s really simple. It means that he likes you enough to kiss you.”

Ding. They were out of time.

“Well, until next time, Rose.”

...she still didn’t have peace. It was time to smoke weed. Weed would help for the time being. Picking herself up, she walked to Doc’s garbage and spat out her gum. With conflict still inside her, she shuffled to the door. Before she left, she asked one last thing, “Should I talk to him?” That was a terrifying thought. But maybe it was the only solution on making her feel better.

“Probably.”

Nodding to her therapist, she gave him a hopeful smile, “Thank you for listening to me as much as you do. I got a lot going on… in my head.”

“Anytime! Make sure you take notes, so I know how it goes.” Oliver smiled at Rose, and opened the door for her.

Owen’s hand flicked the shifter, kicking the car up a gear as he blew past the exit toward the estate where his grandfather lived.

What was he doing? Why did he always do this to himself? He was chasing pain. Chasing a bad decision. He knew that much, he really truly did. Maybe he was desperate. Maybe he just worried about her. Worrying about her was fair, right? He’d seen how bad Ophelia and Hailey were letting his Trixie get. They didn’t know what they were doing, they didn’t know her.

She had been drunk, upset, and he knew she was about five seconds away from a breakdown when he’d saw them. The right thing to do would have been to take her away from them, physically pull her aside and hold her until she felt better. But Owen was undeniably volatile at the moment, and Ophelia had egged him on. She’d set his time bomb off.

He would be okay, with time. But would Trixie? Owen didn’t know. He wanted to be back with her yes; romantically, sexually, emotionally, all that stuff. But most importantly? Owen wanted to know she was okay. If he knew she were okay, even if she wasn’t his, he’d be better. Maybe they’d never get back together (he really hoped that wasn’t the case), but Owen didn’t really blame her for anything that had happened, and he wanted her to be okay. She deserved to be okay.

He hit the shifter again, this time downshifting as he pulled up to the gate to the Stentorian Estate, where Trixie Kingsley stayed with her aunt and uncle, Ty and Juliana Locke. He reached out with a hand and punched in the number; it never changed and he’d put it in very, very many times over the years. The gate rolled open and Owen’s car revved up as he pulled inside, a sound that had not been heard on the Estate in almost two and a half months, but one that was unmistakable nonetheless.

He pulled up the driveway and parked in front of the Locke’s home. Owen’s car door opened upwards, and he stepped out of it, holding in his hand the stupid flower that the lil guy had given him. With a deep breath, he approached the door, and knocked. Stella and Luna would help him out, right?

Peeking through the curtain of the family room window, not so conspicuously, Stella ‘psst’ at her sister, “OWEN IS HERE. Why is he here? Did Trixie and him get back together? What is he holding?”

“I know as little as you do, Stel.” Luna dully stared at her sister by the archway that led to the front door. She was insufferable at times. “You know… he probably can see you.”

“WHAT?!” Like the silly girl that she was, Stella ducked to the ground. Down, down, down! Ha-hah! He didn’t see her. She was too fast.

Rolling her eyes, Luna decided to ignore her sister and open the door. “What?” Her response came out much shorter than she meant it to. Oh well. He was the one that cheated. He deserved it.

It had only been two months, but in the span of that two months, Owen had been happy to put Stella in the back of his head. He’d half considered waving at her, but ultimately decided to let her have her fun. When the door opened, and it was Luna that spoke to him, Owen considered turning around and leaving. He closed his eyes for a brief moment to steel himself, then he spoke up. “Kid said I should give this to Trixie. Give it to her for me.” There. Fast, simple, and to the point. Owen didn’t need to explain his whole life story to these girls, no way. They barely deserved the bare minimum of details. Owen held out the beautiful red flower, and shook his head. “It’s stupid, isn’t it?”

“GIVE WHAT?” Stella yelled from the other room, before prancing toward the door and poking her head over Luna’s shoulder. _{“Give what… hi, Owen.”} She shyly whispered, as her gaze scanned the boy she hadn’t seen in AGES. Her eyes rested on the flowers. Aw. Owen was such a romantic. Always giving Trixie flowers. One day she’d have a boy to give her flowers. Though, honestly, she’d prefer plushies. Lots and lots of fluffy, soft teddies.

Raising an eyebrow, Luna’s expression showcased the thoughts: what do you think, dude? But the words that left her mouth were, “You do it.” Trixie’s emotions were all over the place. She was not going to be caught in this mess and if he wanted her back so much, why didn’t he just go… talk to her? Granted, that could push her away. The situation was messy and Trixie was still very much sensitive over the fact that he cheated on her and then she threw her professionalism out the door and ruined him on the Black and Orange. Hey, at least she owned up to her article, unlike the Weekend Warrior.

“Are you crazy? I can’t do it.” Owen protested, stomping his foot before he looked over at Stella. “Hi. Stella. Give this to Trixie.” Owen said, changing his plan of attack as he thrust out the flower in Stella’s direction. He couldn’t give it to her, didn’t they understand? He should have thrown the thing away. Owen’s protests carried on, before he even gave Stella a proper chance to respond or decline.

“You don’t understand. She can’t see me. I’ll just make things worse. She’s not okay. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!” Though Owen was yelling, it wasn’t like when he yelled in the past; when he was angry and enraged. It was just a yell of someone who was speaking the truth: he didn’t know what to do.

“She can’t see you? Or you won’t see her?” Luna had faith that her cousin was a lot stronger than people made her out to be. Yes, she was emotional. Breaks up do that. And yes, plenty of times she wasn’t okay. But, she was working thing out. Today she was happier than she has been in awhile. It was like seeing the old Trixie again. A Trixie ready to face anything. No matter how much pain it brought her.

Hesitantly, Stella walked around her sister and gently pushed Owen’s hand, that held the flower, back to him, “It would mean a lot more, if it came from you.” Trixie still very much loved this boy. If she didn’t, his stuff wouldn’t still be in her closet. His jacket, especially. If anything, Trixie was holding herself back from attacking him, in the romantic sense, whenever she could because she was protecting him. From her. Honestly, she could believe her cousin didn’t think she deserved happiness. Not the love kind of happiness. Not after what she did. This whole ordeal brought out the worst of her and now she must cleanse herself until she is fully okay. But no one can make her okay but herself. That doesn’t mean she should avoid her problems and avoid people that revolve around all of them. Owen was and still is very important to her cousin and so, he must be the one to give it to her. Not Luna. Not her. No one but himself. It was his gesture. For forgiveness? Or maybe just to show he still loves her? Stella didn’t know, but it felt right to say no. She was going to follow her instincts.

Owen drew in breath deeply through his nose. Fine; he could do it himself. “Fine. You want me to give it to her? I will.” Owen grumbled, shouldering his way past the twins and into the house. Like clockwork, he walked down the hall and directly to Trixie’s room, where he took the flower and put it on the bed. He went to her drawers and withdrew a pen and a piece of paper, from the places he knew they never left.

Owen was here. Hi. Don’t be mad.

He scribbled onto the piece of paper, and sat the flower on her bed with the note. Then he walked back to the twins, and glowered at them. “There. Are you happy?” He demanded, running a hand through his hair. “I left her a note too.”

“Hm, I’d be happier with cake.” Luna lightheartedly teased. Truthfully, she was just happy neither Owen or Trixie were… sitting around anymore? The first step of getting better was admitting you weren’t okay. The second? Taking action.

“Strawberry shortcake! You should totally come back with cake.” Hey, if they asked favors, maybe it would be like the old times! Maybe on the cake he could say: I love you, Trixie. But Trixie may never see it… it probably would get eaten. Hm. This might not work in the forgiveness department, but it’ll at least make her and Luna’s tummies happy!

“I’m not coming back with a cake. I’m probably not coming back. She’s going to see the note and freak out and want me dead again.” Owen shrugged his shoulders helplessly and walked past the twins, sighing. “Thanks for the help. Even if you weren’t really very helpful. I appreciate the thought.” With that, Owen slid into his car, and started it up. “See ya next time, if there is a next time.”

“Such a debbie downer!” “I’m sure there will be— ” “—a next time! Stay hopeful. It totally—” “—suits you.”

It was a good day. Truth be told, most days were good days in Rafael’s world. School was over, and he had anime club today, and he didn’t have to work at the diner tonight. That’s a triple dope trio of facts, right there. To top it off, he had a pocket full of kush and his favorite board in hand. If he remembered correctly, which was a big if, Raf still had some time before anime club started.

Riff would be the first one to tell you that japanese animation is best enjoyed while high. With reefer vision, you saw everything the way that it was meant to be seen. It made the art tangible, and the action scenes extra exciting… almost 3-D? Way cool. So, it was about time for him to pregame for the club. Rafael didn’t even bother to get all the way off of school property before lighting up. He lazily rolled through the back parking lot, near the dumpsters, and occasionally did jump tricks off of the curbs while he smoked.

Satisfied with his post-class bake session, Riff snubbed out his joint on the pavement and flicked the stub into one of the dumpsters. The long-hair burner pushed off of the ground to gain speed and coasted along the parking lot, back towards the school. Once at the sidewalk, Raf stepped off of his board and stomped on the back end, causing it to jump up towards his outstretched hand. Despite being faded as fuck, Raf caught it with ease, and buckled the board into the straps of his backpack. Rafael might suck at a lot of things, but he was pretty darned good with a skateboard.

Upon walking into the classroom in which anime club was held, Riff found that the entire room was staring at him. He was probably late, but he was always late. This wasn’t really out of the ordinary. Not thinking too much of it, Rafael took his usual seat and settled in. Everyone kept staring.

“Uhm, Raf?” One of the regular attendees, a sophomore named Phil, spoke up.

“Sup, dude?” Rafael replied with a calm smile and a nod, still not picking up on the social cues that something was off. He did realize, however, that nothing was playing on the screen, and the club president wasn’t at the computer setting things up like she usually did. “Where’s Alice?”

“Don’t you rememb— scratch that, of course you don’t remember. She’s in actual Japan right now, through the foreign exchange program. Weebin’ it up. You’re supposed to be running things today.”

“Me?” Riff looked genuinely surprised. Sure, he was on the leadership board or whatever, but he was the Public Relations Rep. That was the goofy arts and crafts role, he made flyers and posters to advertise for the club because he was relatively good at art. He wasn’t actually entrusted with money or responsibilities like the treasurer or the president and vp were. Speaking of the vice president, “What about Mike?”

“He’s still out, extended vacation with his family or something.”

“Oh… okay!” Rafael said cheerfully and stood up from his chair. He probably should have done so slowly, because the world spun around a little bit as he did so. This latest strain he bought off of A Dubs was some real good shit. Too good. Riff swayed as he made his way up to the front of the room. Once there, he looked around at all of the faces and realized that some of them were new. “Hey, I’m Riff. Do, uhh, the new people wanna say hi?”

Gabriela was stoked when she’d first heard there was an anime club. This more than made up for the fact that the school itself didn’t have DnD sessions. She signed up in a heartbeat, got through her lessons with ease in the knowledge of the reward that lay in wait. And then...she spent almost seven minutes sitting in a room with fellow nerds, never the most sociable or confident of peoples, waiting for somebody to take charge. Maybe this wasn’t going to be fun. That’s when a guy waltzed in, with long hair, a skateboard in his backpack, absolutely reeking of weed, and confesses that he’s no authority figure…

This was going to be fun after all.

Gab didn’t stand up to introduce herself. This seemed like too chill a place for that. Or if it wasn’t, it certainly was with Raf running things. “Hey. I’m Gabriela. Gabriela Garcia. Just call me Gab, or Gabby, or G.G., or Gib-Gab. I’m not really picky!” she spoke to the whole classroom, introducing herself in a very relaxed and casual manner, as if she was chatting to friends instead of making introductions to an extracurricular group.

A couple of newbies introduced themselves, but most were too shy to speak up. Such was the usual in a nerd club like this. What was surprising to Raf was the last person to say something. Woah…. Pretty. He flashed a smile when she spoke up and laughed a little at the last nickname. “Gib-Gab. I like it. My pops calls me Riff-Raff, so I got one of them double nicknames too.”

Rafael looked over to the computer and powered it on. “So… any suggestions on what we should watch? Newbies get first vote, it’s tradition.”

“Gib-Gab it is, then!” she cheerfully replied, as she sat back and prepared to watch some good old animu. Then she got a curveball thrown at her. The newbies picked. She looked around. Was nobody going to suggest something? Then it would have to be up to her! What about...No, but maybe...She wanted something that was good. Funny, but not too wacky, too serious, too combat oriented, too character oriented, too ecchi, too ‘kiddy’, too much of an acquired taste, too generic, too obscure, and nothing too mainstream, or she’d look like a fake anime fan. She eventually decided on something that subjectively ticked all these boxes; A classic.

“Hmmm, what about Ranma ½?” She suggested finally.

Riff pondered the name as the computer booted up. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t recall having watched it. He very well might have watched it and just simply wasn’t remembering, that was a distinct possibility. When no one else suggested anything or vetoed that, Raf shrugged. “Cool,” he said as he typed the name into the site that they frequently used to stream. Three typos later, he managed to get the name right and show search results. “Looks vintage, I fucks with that.” Raf clicked the first episode link — sub, not dub — always sub, and then he turned to face the screen.

The screen was blank. Huh. Rafael hadn’t thought about that part of it. He scratched at his head through his beanie and studied the computer settings. It looked like it should be displaying through the projector, maybe something was wrong with the projector itself. Riff stood up and slowly made his way to the piece of machinery. He clicked a button… nothing. He tried another one… still nothing.

“Hmm…” He mused in a hum and got eye level with it to read the descriptions. Oh, the lens protector was still in place. Riff pushed the button to remove it, whilst still eye level, and was greeted with a blinding stream of light. “Acckkk, shit!” Raf exclaimed and dodged away before rubbing at his dilated eyes. He blinked rapidly, but it did little to shoo away the stars that danced across his field of vision.

Passing the remote off to Phil, he said: “You’re in charge now, volume control’s on you.” Riff then headed back to his seat, next to the newbie girl. “Did you just hear about the club? With a choice like that, you must be an anime fan, so where you been?”

Watching Raf struggle to overcome several hurdles in the herculean task of playing a movie on a projector, whilst the other members or the room got a little annoyed and restless, Gab found kind of endearing, like watching a dog try to run on a treadmill. Eventually he got it working, and came to sit next to her, before asking her about why she had only just now came along to the anime club.

“I’ve been busy up til now. My family moved here just for me to come to this school, so I’ve had to go home and help them upack things and set things up and move furniture and stuff. We finally settled in a few days ago. Not having a social life’s been killing me, and there’s no DnD sesh either!”

Raf nodded his head slowly. She was talking pretty fast, which always tripped him up, unless the conversation was taking place in spanish. He could understand and speak surprisingly rapidly in spanish, primarily because that was the only way that his mother communicated — fast, loud, and in her native tongue. Riff was about to ask where she moved here from, but she shifted topics to something that caught his attention far more than anything else she’d said so far. “Oh mannn, you play DnD? That’s awesome, my dudes and I play sometimes. Mostly… we kinda say we want to play and then we spend a few hours making super cool characters only to end up getting reeaallly baked and eating snacks instead. But, we’ve played some too. You should come to Dreamland sometime.”

Gab’s eyes lit up when Raf mentioned that there is DnD here after all! Why was she scouring Beverly Hills High School for an official club? She should have just asked around the nerds from the beginning! Though, she’d never been baked before in her life. Would she have to try it if she joined in? Is that even a bad thing? The thought was actually quite exciting. “I’d love to join you guys if you have a sesh! But we’d have to start playing earnestly. The fun part is the actual playing. What’s the fun in making characters if you can’t use them and utilise how broken they are to infuriate the DMs?” she asked, giggling. “Also, what’s this ‘Dreamland’? Does it have anything to do with… you know… getting baked?” Gabby’s voice had trailed off and gotten quieter at the end of that sentence. She didn’t want the rest of the classroom to hear them, and she felt a bit of a nerd traitor even thinking this, but they all struck her as squares. The intrigue and impish excitement was clear in her voice, as was the glee at which she talked about the kush.

“Oh yeah, usually. You don’t even have to try that hard, it’s basically part of the atmosphere.” Rafael smirked at her as he responded to her inquiry about getting baked. How was that even a question? Of course you get ripped at Dreamland, that was part of the charm. Gabby had asked another question, however, and Raf addressed it. “It’s A Double’s place. Basically paradise. He’s got old video game systems and movies and beanbags. Man, I love beanbags. But we hang out there a lot, I’ll take you. Don’t worry, they’ll like you for sure.” Nodding his head in a agreement with his own words, Raf beamed a wide smile at her.

The more Gab heard about this Dreamland, the more it was beginning to sound as such. By the end of his description, her eyes were sparkling, and a wide grin was plastered on her face. “It sounds like literal heaven and I’m not even kidding. You’ve sold me on it. There’s no way you’re getting out of taking me now! Oh! Who is A Double, and what’s he like? I don’t think I’ve heard of him. Not that I really know who anybody is yet besides Hailey, and even then, all I know is several Sophomores and Juniors give her the prefix ‘watch out for-’. We’ll probably never speak to each other, and I doubt she’ll even know who I am before she graduates, so I’m not worried.” Damn, this girl was a motormouth!

Raf’s eyes grew wide as he slowly nodded and tried to follow along with her. Fast words were especially hard when you were as high in the clouds as he was. The easiest thing to focus on, and truly it was the only thing that he could focus on, were her eyes and how shiny they got before she started talking. And then they stayed that way. It was like they were smiling along with her mouth. “Wow, you’re really pretty.” Raf mused quietly whilst she was mid sentence.

“Oh, Hailey is alright. I dunno why people say stuff like that ‘bout her. She’s nice to us. And uh… A Double is, like, my friend? He’s got two first names so we all kinda call him A Double, or Double A, or A Dubs. Whatever, really, just as long as it’s not his names. He’s the best hookup for some green, and he skateboards n’ stuff.” Raf shrugged, not really knowing what else to say. “D’you skate?”

“I’m definitely calling him A Dubs!” She replied, not addressing the Hailey part of what Raf had said. That conversation was over in Gab’s mind. She also, whilst she was busy talking, didn’t notice his mutterings. She had noticed he had muttered, but didn’t know what he had said. She decided to chase him up on that after she addressed his other points, to sate her curiosity.

“I don’t skate, no. I’ve never tried, but I’d probably suck at it. Wouldn’t mind trying to learn, but even for a newbie, I’d probably inventant a whole new level of suckage. By the way, when I was talking just now, you muttered something. What did you say?”

“Oh…” Riff crinkled his nose as he tried to remember what he had said. You could practically see the wheels of his mind spinning as he attempted to rewind the conversation mentally. Oh, right, duh. “I said that you’re really pretty. Your eyes did a thing, and I mean I thought it earlier too, because you are. Really pretty.”

That caught her off guard. Before her brain could get kicked into gear and start processing that, she could feel the heat radiating from her face, and knew that she was suddenly blushing as she stared at him with the kind of shock a child would express getting caught by an adult doing nothing wrong, but getting caught for it suddenly. Her brain then started to work. Was he trying to hit on her, or being sleazy? She took in his face. No, he was just being completely transparent and honest, likely on account of the weed.

Gabby smiled, though it was a smaller, shyer smile than before, and brushed some hair behind her ear. She knew she wasn’t ugly, but she’d never actually been called pretty before. Then again, she only started wearing makeup last year. But that’s not what Raf had been talking about. He’d been talking about her eyes. He thought she was pretty! She wondered if she should return the compliment, but she wasn’t sure handsome was the right word. It wasn’t untrue. He wasn’t bad looking, but there was a better word for his looks than ‘handsome’. He wasn’t a lantern-jawed heartthrob, and she preferred him for it. She liked his hair, too. In the end, she gave up trying to compliment him in return. Too much could go wrong. Her meaning could get lost.

“Thank you!” she replied instead, her smile growing wider. “Nobody’s called me pretty before.”

Savvy was stuck.

Having been holed up in Heartfelt Bites for the past two hours attempting to write her article, she was beginning to get frustrated, her words not sounding as good as she thought they would. If she were writing this by hand, the garbage can in the corner would be overflowing by now with drafts, but since she was on her trusty laptop, the edit history was longer than life itself.

Sav took another bite of her chocolate eclair, savoring the delicious dessert that was currently keeping her sane. She was still a little shaken up from earlier, the incident at practice engrained in her memory, but knew she shouldn’t dwell on it. It had been a long day filled with ups and downs, but as her mother taught her, chocolate was always the cure to anything and everything. A deep sigh escaping her lips, she took a sip of her coffee and continued powering through with the article.

The bell of the door ringed and Riley Wells, the brother to a lovely redhead’s desire, came rolling in with a black helmet on his head and a medium-sized delivery bag on his back, having just gotten done with his round of cheesecake deliveries for the day. All food in this building may it be served at Captain Cuddles, Heartfelt Bites, or The Underground, was influenced and catered by his father, Remy. His father could’ve been the next Gordon Ramsey, minus the anger and cursing, especially with the experience on his belt, but he chose being a father first, chef second. Some people may say settling at a family friendly place like Captain Cuddles was a waste of potential for Remy but Riley knew his father was happy. He got to see him and Trevor grow up and all three of them would patiently wait for their famed father, the money maker of the family, Jareth Wells, to return home from frequent tours and other music obligations. Their life was good and together they all could and would get through anything. At least once all things were out in the open and not left inside one’s head… festering.

Truth be told, Riley was in the dark with a lot of the happenings in Trevor’s life, as of recently, and vice versa. Especially today. They haven’t had enough time for a good heart to heart. Trevor didn’t know about Riley’s party mishap with Marshall and Jamie and Riley didn’t know that Trevor had asked Savannah out, and also gotten in a brutal fight with Jacob. But maybe before dinner they would catch up! There was no doubt that Riley needed brotherly support today — he was a mess.

After exchanging the bag and the money with the afternoon shift manager, Lacy, who usually took care of financing for his father, Riley, while taking off his helmet, sluggishly scanned the menu of the bakery that only had females working there. It definitely had a visual the moment you walked in. Only girls were hired. The color scheme was pink, red, and white. And it was super lovey dovey. Hearts everywhere. It was extremely gag worthy. Usually the girls would attract people that wanted to flirt with them. Riley was pretty sure one of the girls had a crush on him, but he just wasn’t into her like that. Speaking of that girl…

“One cappuccino and a slice of strawberry buttercream cake, right?” Jasmine beamed her dimpled smile and leaned on the counter, with obvious intention to show cleavage. She even added a wink at the end of her words, as if she knew everything about him even if she knew absolutely nothing besides his usual order. If there was one thing Riley knew, this girl had a type, which he has seen during many bakery visits. It usually involved boys that wore black and came off as ‘cool and mysterious’ (edge lords), but he also knew at her school, which wasn’t Beverly Hills High (thank god), she was always in a relationship...one after the other, with different guys. Riley would like to think he knew crazy when he saw it and this girl definitely gave him those vibes.

“Yeah… that’s right.” It didn’t help he was not good at handling encounters like this. After attempting to pay and she stopping him,’it’s on me’, like she had power in this place, he decided to find a seat since the bakery usually brought your food to you. His eyes did light up when he saw a familiar face. Savannah. The girl that captured his brother’s heart. To what extent, Riley didn’t know, but he did know his brother had been crushing on this girl for some time. Clearing his throat, Riley approached the redhead, his helmet rested between his arm and side, “Mind if I sit here? Oh, and yeah, sorry about the party. I don’t usually drink and I might have said things and done things that weren’t okay. Like call you out and totally embarrass my brother.”

Savannah was so engrossed in her writing that she didn’t notice when someone approached the table, and nearly jumped five feet when the person cleared their throat and began to speak. Realizing that it was Riley, she let out a small laugh at her panic, nearly cursing herself for making herself look like an idiot in front of Trevor’s brother. “No, not at all, please do,” She replied, clearing her papers off of the far side of the table to give him some space. Sav smirked at his apology regarding the events of the party, knowing that he had nothing to apologize for- if he hadn’t said anything, things wouldn’t have been the same. “I didn’t mind, it actually made for some good conversation.”

Gratefully, Riley took a seat and placed his helmet under his seat, sweat gleaming from his forehead. Being delivery boy wasn’t the easiest when his father was locally a big hit because of his grinds. “I haven’t seen him all day — he’s probably worried because of how bad the morning show went. Gotta’ take the punches as they come, you know?” His attention went up to Jasmine who loudly placed his drink and cake on the table, purposely side swiping some of Savannah’s papers so that it fell on the ground.

“So you like gingers. Figures.” The girl clicked her tongue with an immense amount of tude.

“What? No.” Riley bent down to pick of Savannah’s papers.

“Then you must be gay.” Hearing that, Riley jolted up, hitting his head on the table. Fuck. He had enough shit going on. His friend hated him. His other friend had god knows what going on with him that made him cry in the closet. Oh wait, Owen did scare the daylights out of him… that would definitely make someone cry. Pulling himself up, his head pounding, Riley placed Savannah’s papers back on the table and watched the girl flip her hair and walk away. Just because he didn’t want to fuck her didn’t make him gay.

“Yeah….punches...right.” Too soon.

From thinking about one altercation to witnessing another, for second time today, Savannah was absolutely shocked by someone’s behavior. What was this girl’s deal anyway? Why did she have to be so rude? “For someone who works at bakery like this, you’d think she’d be nice…” She whispered to Riley, afraid the girl would hear. “Your head okay?”

With a warm smile, Riley nodded at the natural sweetheart and lightheartedly joked, “It’s seen better days, but I’ll survive.” After grabbing his fork, Riley scooped a small piece of cake and cutely nommed it in his mouth. His face lit up. Man, this cake was the best. Too good. Giving himself a moment to enjoy his dessert, he glanced toward Jasmine briefly then back at his brother’s crush, “She doesn’t like that I’m not into her. I come here at least three times a week, which is three times too many for a girl that wants to get in your pants.” The dark haired boy shrugged, continuing to eat the cake, with incredible speed and like nobody was watching. It was like he ate cake as if it were going to run away. “So —” He put his fork down and grabbed his cappuccino. If he could, he’d ask more questions about her progress with his brother, but he didn’t want to come across as that nosey, possessive brother that needed to make sure the girl his brother was into wasn’t batshit. “— you seem deep into writing. What’s your story about?” He’d assume it had something to do with the paper.

Sav couldn’t help but laugh at Riley as he ate his dessert- he acted like a little kid who was experiencing sugar for the first time in the way that he smiled giddily as he ate. But she could agree that the pastries here were that good, and probably looked the same way as she chewed her eclair. Dabbing her mouth with her napkin, Savvy then gathered her papers and stacked them neatly next to her laptop, resembling the way they were before the waitress knocked them off the table.

“It’s actually next week’s main feature for the Orange and Black about the Football team and the upcoming season,” She picked up one of the sheets of paper that had some bullet notes and passed it over to the boy across from her so he could peruse the bits and pieces she had already thought of. “I stopped by tryouts today to do some research, so now I’m planning it all out and beginning to put it on paper- well, screen.” Sav joked, motioning to her computer.

Riley raised an eyebrow when the interview highlights were focused solely on his brother. Absentmindedly, and perhaps rather crudely, Riley said out loud, all the while still looking at the points, “Is this about the team or about my brother?” Don’t get him wrong, his brother was interesting and really did care about Football, but the article would appear bias if it only focused on one person’s opinions, especially after what had transpired this morning. “Don’t you think this should be more about how each player is going to handle losing their biggest asset? This just seems like just another glorified article about an unstoppable team. When everyone knows without Damian… they’re kinda fucked. Sorry for the cursing.”

He didn’t mean to critique her or make it seem like he knew how to find a story better than she could, but none of the students would care about this. At least he didn’t. None of the players knew what to expect this season. Why? Because they lost their captain. Their captain that unified them. How were the boys going to keep that strength? That unified brotherhood? Trevor was too nice and it showed in the written script of her interview with him. The only time his brother actually showed backbone was when he defended someone he cared about. The rest of the players? Jacob, he was too angry. Lucky? He could care less about the winning streak and probably was only there to watch everything fall. The others? They followed the leader. “I want to know what’s going on in Damian’s head. He deserves to clear his name because no one deserves what he’s going through. And it sucks he’s getting punished for a party that we ALL were at.” Riley didn’t know when Savannah’s deadline was, but what she had so far wouldn’t impress Trixie. With all this time Trixie has been spending with him trying to create projects for both his club and her’s, he was starting to realize she was a tough girl to please, which probably was a bitch for the writers of the newspaper club. Her being the editor-in-chief and all.

Savvy willed herself as much as she could to not turn crimson, but her face did not listen to her brain and thus her cheeks began to match her hair. Riley’s comments had quite a lot of truth to them- Sav was so concerned with impressing her crush and talking to him, that her resulting article lacked any real substance. The biggest thing to happen to the team in the past two years had just occurred that morning, and yet her writing didn’t reflect any of it. She sighed deeply, looking down at the ground in defeat. “I got to the tryouts with much better questions, and when Coach Moss said that Trevor was the most likely to not say anything dumb besides Damian, he looked absolutely distraught.” She admitted, “I couldn’t bear to make him feel even worse by talking more about it. Plus, I was going to talk to more people on the team but there was a little...incident that prevented me from doing so..” Sav took another bite of her eclair in frustration. “Needless to say the interview did not go as well as I wanted it to.”

“An incident?” Riley was in the dark as ever. The closet incident was haunting his mind and her bringing up the word ‘incident’ made it wash over him again. Stop, Riley. He took a sip of his coffee before continuing.

“And hey, you’re still a phenomenal writer.” He softened his expression, internally reprimanding himself for hurting Savannah. “Sorry, my brother says I can be a downright ass because I don’t know how to sugarcoat my words. But, you’re extremely welcoming and that’s a great trait to have when it comes to talking to people. If there’s one thing I know journalists have, like Trixie or… Jamie, they’re ruthless. Nothing else matters but the story and what they gain. That’s the only thing you lack and oddly enough, my brother too. But that isn’t a bad thing. You don’t have to corner or pressure someone to get them to speak. And I’m sure you’ll find the best method that works for you.”

“It’s okay, I need some constructive criticism in my life. Sometimes I’m afraid that people aren’t being completely honest with me.” Sav reassured him. It was true- she always worried in the back of her mind that people were putting up a front and saying terrible things behind her back, but this was refreshing. It kind of stung, but it was what was necessary if she wanted to be a writer. “I guess I just need to be more direct and not worry completely about hurting someone else’s feelings, even if I do care about them...” She trailed off, not wanting to say too much more about it.

“But yeah, there was a small incident at tryouts. I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you what happened…” Sav cringed thinking about Riley’s possible reaction to Trevor getting beat up.

“You have to tell me now.” For some reason, Riley didn’t think his brother was involved. He did assume things would go to shit because of Damian being MIA, but his ignorance of never thinking his brother would be directly involved or even that his brother would get hurt, because his brother was kind of his hero and never got hurt, was definitely written on his face. Hopefully the Weekend Warrior wasn’t around because his brother being in the general vicinity of ‘an incident’ was never good for anyone. That bashing site would paint his brother in a bad light and his brother probably didn’t do anything.

“Well…” Savvy tried to tread lightly, not wanting to scare the younger brother of her crush. “I don’t know why, but Jacob threw Trev to the ground during a play, and then they started arguing about something, I don’t know what, but Trevor was really angry. I’ve never seen him lose his cool like that. And then…. they got into a full on brawl, it was pretty bad.” Sav couldn’t help but wonder if it was her fault, since she had pulled Trevor aside to interview him and Jacob didn’t seem to take to that, but she doubted that was it.

Oh.

His brother was involved. A full on brawl? That wasn’t like Trevor at all, unless he was defending someone not something. Did Jacob have beef with anyone? Emotions were probably heightened because Trevor was most likely going to be Captain. That would make anyone on the team that actually cared angry, but if that was the only matter, Trevor wouldn’t have fed into the jabs. Riley knew for one he had nothing going on with Jacob so it didn’t make sense for Jacob to use him against his brother… his eyes rested on the girl in front of him. Was she already that important to him? Important enough for her brother to fight for her? All this time, he thought Trevor’s crush for her wasn’t something too serious. She was pretty and his type.

And yet, he had a feeling they cared about each other more than he expected. Was he going to lose his brother soon? “I’ll check on him.” Riley’s response was short, like he was taking in everything. A new revelation dawned on him — that his relationship with his brother was going to change soon because his brother now had someone else to go to. “Which reminds me… I need to help with dinner tonight. Thanks for letting me sit here, Savannah. You’re... sweet.” Not waiting for a response, Riley got up and left the bakery, forgetting his helmet under his chair.

She knew she shouldn’t have told him. Watching Riley react wasn’t pretty, and she knew that he was probably going to have words with his brother about the events. Oops. But something else was going on, Sav knew he just wasn’t reacting to the fight alone, she could see the wheels turning in his head. But before she could say anything else, he got up and left, clearly not too pleased with the situation. Gazing over at his empty seat, she noticed he had left behind his helmet. “Riley, wait!” She grabbed the helmet and ran out the door after him, catching him before he got too far away. “Don’t need you hitting your head a second time today.”

“Ah, yeah. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure.” Taking the helmet, he placed it on his head and gave her a thumbs up before hopping on his mini motorcycle. His dad didn’t think he was ready for a big one. He gave Savannah a final nod and then the brother to her heart’s desire sped off.

Clink. Clank. Slam.

A chorus of metal lockers opening and closing rang out through the halls of Beverly Hills High. The first day of school after winter break was over, and students were already hooting and hollering in their excitement to go home, or out, or wherever they were headed now that classes were through. Marshall stood in front of his own tin cubby. He was one of those people who actually took the time to decorate the inside of his locker. It was… over the top, extra, bright, loud… you know, most of the adjectives that one might use to describe the drama star himself.

At the center of a sea of sticky foam stars and clippings of Broadway show titles was a large mirror, which had “SMILE :)” written on it with lavender puffy paint. Staring into the looking glass, Marshall’s own advice mocked him, despite the pretty handwriting. He didn’t much feel like smiling, today had sucked, even though he was really excited to be back at school. Everything was going wrong and not even having french class for last period could save his day. In Mar’s mind, french was the best language, the most romantic of all of the romance languages… but... his romantic dreams seemed pretty dim recently, so french sucked too.

Stop taking yourself so seriously, Marsh, you’ll get wrinkles. Blowing a raspberry with his lips, he challenged his own somber reflection by sticking his tongue out at it. Perhaps drama club would help him feel better, he could do some acting and step outside of himself for a little while. That could be refreshing. With that thought powering his steps, Marshall tossed his books and writing utensils in his locker and headed over to the theater.

Ms. May, the young chorus and theater instructor, who also oversaw the drama club, was standing amidst a circle of chairs that were set up on the stage. There was also a table with a few folders and papers strewn about it — Marshall assumed these were scripts and scores, as they were meant to decide on this semester’s school production today. Clearly Ms. May had come prepared with options for them to choose from.

Many of the faces were familiar ones, though there were a few first timers in the midst. Good, fresh talent, Marshall hoped. Both of his previous fellow co-stars, Jacobi and Shauna, were nowhere to be seen. Marsh then remembered that he agreed to fill Jacobi in on what he’d miss, because today was cheer squad tryouts — and that fact answered the question as to what Shauna was up to as well. Marshall rolled his eyes and pulled out his cell phone to text Shauna as he took a seat, perhaps he could spare some sweet freshman’s heart with a message.

better get ur lezzy ass here quick or im putting my vote towards Hamlet

Damian’s shit day had been, however briefly, saved by Joy in the library. After that, though? It was all downhill, dude. Tons of freshies had come up to him and asked for advice in the tryouts. Damian had gotten sick of it after about three of them, but he’d kept a smile on his face, and been encouraging. He’d given advice where it was asked for, and done his best to be himself; that is to say, a generally nice guy. After school, Damian had gone to detention — only to find out that he wasn’t due until the next week. Since he wasn’t on the team anymore, he’d done the next best thing and decided to make a rare appearance at his other extra curricular activity: Drama.

By the time Marshall had walked in, Damian had taken a seat in the classroom and was looking around on his phone for plays that they could do (he wasn’t much of a singer, but he liked acting). He looked up though, when one of the girls in the room suggested they do a performance of Tarzan. When Ms. May had asked why, the girl had shamelessly responded, “So Damian can play Tarzan and be shirtless.”

“Is that… is that a complement?” Damian asked slowly, looking around the room for a second opinion.

“Pfft,” Marshall responded snarkily, both to the girl, and to Damian’s reaction. “Girrlll, unless you’re looking to see my candy-ass shirtless, you might wanna rethink that vote. No way is Damian getting the lead role, this isn’t the football field.”

“Marshall, watch yourself.” Ms. May chided with a glare.

Marsh shrugged in response, completely unashamed of himself. He didn’t press the situation, instead he offered up an idea of his own. “What about a fun musical? Like Hairspray… or Legally Blonde?”

Damian looked up and suddenly found himself way more interested in drama than he could have ever imagined. His pride had been poked at, and while not yet wounded, Damian had to stand up for himself. He couldn’t take something like that, especially not from someone like… Marshall, of all people. “Actually, uh, I’m pretty good at this whole acting thing? I know I haven’t actually been in a production yet, but I’ve been practicing with my mom since the day I was born. I promise you, I’m miles better than you could ever believe.”

“Well, isn’t that sweet?” Marshall said with a smug grin. The stupid Elite and their party and their Owen had done enough damage, Marsh wasn’t about to let them have more. Marshall had no doubt that he would get the lead male role, and if not him, then Jacobi, but most likely him. He was the star of the show, and Damian was just begging for scraps. Damian was free to think what he wanted to, though.

Damian shifted and leaned forward, “We ain't doin’ either of those, though. Let’s do Tarzan. Then we can let someone else choose who gets it. Auditions, right? Same as a tryout for the team…”

That caused Marshall to raise an eyebrow. Honestly, who did he think he was stepping in and attempting to call the shots right away? Marsh was about to open his mouth for some more sassy banter when another voice chimed in from behind them.

“I… have an idea.” Coming from the shadows of the auditorium, among the seats of where the audience would be, Rose hugged a booklet that looked like a professional Broadway script, with an art cover and everything. She didn’t even know if it was worth bringing, it wasn’t even her best work, but she felt like she should try. Starting small and then seeing where that took her. Her best work was too personal to actually bring to school, so she would start with one of her smaller projects.

The burners had a reputation of not getting involved in school activities, but Rose wasn’t like most burners. She knew better than most that there were talented kids in all circles. No matter how high, or low, on the ladder you were (are), this school was full of kids with aspirations, dreams, and talents beyond belief. Even if her therapist said it was okay to disappear and have a relatively simple life, Rose didn’t think sitting around and doing nothing would help her feel… whole. She wasn’t going to pretend to be someone she wasn’t — why couldn’t being yourself be enough? The weed had definitely calmed her nerves so that she could handle something like this but she was still a little nervous… presenting her work in front of a tough crowd would make anyone nervous! And yet, she was willing to try.

“We’re all ears, Rose.” Ms. May gracefully gestured for the junior with voluminous near platinum blonde hair to take center stage.

“Okay, yeah. I got this.” Once Rose had made it up the stairs and on the stage, she stood inside the circle. Most people knew the eccentric girl had a melting pot of skills. Clearing her throat, she displayed her book. The front cover had a striking picture of a female’s face, only the bottom half, and it was taped close. On the tape the title of her book was written in bold marker: Say Something.

“I wrote this freshmen year actually. The concept is simple. If you could say anything you wanted, without any consequences or feeling like someone won’t like what you say, what would you say? Going to this school I learned a lot by simply watching people… it follows the lives of four vastly different teens. One fateful night puts things into perspective for them. By the end of the play, they each learn something about themselves. It explores simple, yet intimate questions that root back to their personal battles like admitting you don’t have everything together or realizing you lost your chance by not saying how you feel. Throughout the story, there are monologues where you’re in their heads. The scene freezes and the spotlight is on one of the teens. The audience gets a glimpse of what these kids want to say, but do they ever say it?”

Rose dramatically paused for a second, to add to her presentation, give her audience food for thought, as she handed the drama director her book, “It doesn’t have to be picked. I just thought I’d try. Even if you guys read it and play out scenes during club I’d be more than grateful. I know plays usually help students forget about exams and what not — a time for us to suspend our disbelief, but I feel like a lot of people would take something from this.” Rose was a lot wiser than she gave herself credit for. Her play essentially went over the struggles of being a teen, which many people at Beverly Hills High could appreciate.

What they didn’t know, which was mentioned in the prologue, is the problems she covered are from real kids that she reached out to online to make her play feel real. “I think it would be cool too if the ending was interactive. Like what if you had people at the school submit an entry of something they wish they could say, but were too afraid to. A confession box... I guess. Before opening day, of course. It would stay anonymous. But it would be read out loud by the leading four people after the finale. I think some people here would find comfort they’re not alone.”

And while Rose talked, she glowed. There was no doubt she cared about her colleagues and was more present in the ‘know’ of the school than people realized. “There’s a quote from one of my favorite musicals, Dear Evan Hansen… that kinda inspired the idea. And well, learning more about my mom and dad’s love story, which was far from perfect.” Closing her eyes, she actually started to sing the words from this musical. Her voice had a surprising uniqueness to it. Wistful, strummy, and even kind of haunting... in a good way, that is.

“Even when the dark comes crashing through
When you need a friend to carry you
And when you’re broken on the ground
You will be found...”

Ms. May was awestruck, to say the least, and was surprised Rose’s voice hadn’t been noticed until this moment. A girl with more shine than she knew. What couldn’t she do? She had more going for her than she even knew. Her presentation itself simply for them to use her script was outstanding.

Marshall looked at Rose thoughtfully. He knew of her, because Marshall made it his job to know about everyone and anyone at school. Being as nosey as he was was pretty much a full time gig, but he was damned good at it, and he sure as hell enjoyed himself sitting at his spot in the gossip mill. She was one of the creative types, a little unchained, but so were most of this world’s most fantastic authors. “That was really brave of you, Rose.” He began in a completely genuine tone. “Like, really brave. I applaud it. I’d like to be able to read it over first, but I think it might be fun to try something totally new and original. Is there any music?”

As the other members of drama club were discussing what was sure to be something woefully silly and incorrect — such as the merits of Shakespeare (who of course, had none) or which insipid musical was better: the one about love or the one about sad people and also love — the door swung open and a bit of laughter carried through the entrance as the proverbial drama queen (and self appointed queen of drama) herself finally deigned to arrive. Shauna Flynn wasn’t alone, given the laughter of hers, as her arm was around the waist of a clearly younger student who was trying to smile and see the best of her situation as a bumped cheerleader. Shauna was making sure the freshman girl was as close as one could be without simply being carried and Shauna was smiling enough for the both of them. “And we’ve arrived. See? I told you there was more to this school than those short skirt twirlers. Like me.” The Shark had already started to sink her teeth into another lost soul.

“Sorry I’m late, everyone, but today was cheerleading tryouts and as you can see there’s a wealth of…talent this year. What have I missed? Probably nothing important, I hope.”

When Shauna stepped in, there was a wash of emotions on Damian. Fresh ones, not lust for Joy, sadness for the loss of his spot on the team, or even anger at Marshall for trying to cut him down. It was mostly disgust with Shauna for being… well, herself. Shauna was a manipulator; a gross, vile person. She took advantage of younger girls, then cut them off like fat and left them in the dirt, where they cried and cried and did their best to get over her. It was evil.

Did Damian hate her more than Hailey? Yeah, yeah he did. Fucking Shauna. Hailey had her issues, and she tormented everyone, but at least she tormented everyone equally. Shauna just fucked with kids. Which was weird to begin with, man! Fuck it, Damian wasn’t gonna be well liked here, anyway.

“I mean, yeah, you did. All we’ve been doing is talking about the production we’re gonna do next. Aren’t you like, a leading force here? Shouldn’t you be here on time? Can’t you poach at a more convenient time for everyone? Come on, dude. Even I did better than that, and I just signed up like two hours ago. You suck.”

Damian shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe that people took her seriously (and he couldn’t), before he turned his attention to Rose. “I like your idea. I say let’s do it, and I,” Damian gestured at his chest. “Shall play a tree.”

Suddenly, things started feeling real awkward when Shauna had arrived. Rose didn’t even get a chance to respond to Marshall saying she was no composer, and that she didn’t want to take away from the monologue format by adding songs. Instead her head turned from Shauna to Damian, to Shauna, to Damian again, before shuffling out of the center, ultimately leaving the circle. In complete silence, she opened up her bag and gave Marshall a couple of paper copies of her script. They could duke over what they were going to do about the spring play with her not being in the room… She did the thing. It went successfully, maybe. And now she wanted tacos. By the look of Ms. May’s face, it looked like she wanted to speak to Rose more, but was preoccupied with settling her usual students. Let Shauna take the floor, and then escape. Good plan, Rose.

Shauna knew better than to rise to the provocation and if she hadn’t been so clearly trying to impress an impressionable young student she likely would’ve let Damian’s comments go without comment. Instead she held firm, turning her attention from her Freshman Catch Of The Day to the meathead masquerading as a thespian. “And who are you, exactly? I didn’t know we let tourists into the club. Shouldn’t you be bashing your head against other brainless beef slabs or is this some sort of last ditch effort to pretty up your college application letters? I bet you don’t know Mamet from Macbeth or Godot from Diana Son. Now if you’ll allow true fans of the craft to discuss freely, that would be appreciated. Pretend it’s like one of the insipid football games and be a cheerleader.” Shauna finished her little response by looking to the girl still very much attached at the hip. “No offense, you’d make going to the games worth every minute.”

“I’m gonna start from the top, and I’m gonna cut your shit down step by step. First off, you know who I am. Everyone knows who I am. Secondly, I’m not a tourist. I’m a member of the drama club, just as much you or Marshmallow.” Damian paused, glancing over at Marshall. “Gonna try a couple out. What do you think? I figure if I’m gonna be hanging out here, should have nicknames for people. That’s kinda my thing. Nicknames.” With that, his attention went back to Shauna. “Thirdly, I may be a beef slab, and I mean… I am. Best arms in the school, worked hard for it. But I'm definitely not brainless, and I got kicked off the team. Do you pay attention to anything that’s not younger than you? I don’t need to pretty up my college apps, any school I choose is gonna beg for me. Now, onto the important stuff. Now, some of you might not know this about me, but ol Damian, well… he’s a bit of a mama’s boy. Now, my mama? She was allll about drama in high school. Ever since I could walk and talk, I’ve been doing actin’, dancin’, and singin’ bullshit with her. Thought I might apply those years of training to something, same as I did when I joined the football and blew everyone away, because, well, I’m my father’s son. Now, I can show you that I’m my mama’s son too.”

Damian ran a hand through his hair, and jumped up to his feet, stuffing his necklace down his shirt. “You wanna see me do Hamlet’s soliloquy? You want me to do a scene from Death of a Salesman? Newsflash, Shauna. I can do it all. Years and years of practice, time to flex it.”

“Ain’t no fuckin’ tourist.” Damian, after saying that, blinked for a second and turned to look at Ms. May, “sorry about that, excuse my language.”

Boy, was someone rather full of themselves. Shauna tried not to let the indifference show on her face, but as she listened to the droning of a boy playing up his own sense of self importance she found it hard not to simply roll her eyes. How utterly droll. Here she thought he might have had something original to say in his ramblings but when he wasn’t simply parroting the words of others as it pertained to her proclivities he was instead being a braggart that didn’t understand the fine line between cocksure swagger and downright douchebaggery. But more to the point, here was someone attempting to invade Shauna’s domain, and she could not abide that. Four years she had given to this club. She was not about to let the last few months be overtaken by someone who would find tech theater degrading.

Shauna removed the freshman girl’s hand from around her shoulder (and her own hand from around the freshman’s waist) and approached the newest ‘member’ of the club. “Foul spoken coward, that thund’rest with thy tongue, and with thy weapon nothing dares perform.” Challenging words delivered with the chutzpah of one who knew the material off the top of her head. But of course, if this pretender was who he said he was, surely he would know what Shauna was doing.

There were a lot of thoughts swimming around Marshall’s mind. The first and foremost of which was that he quite liked the nickname Marshmallow. He would not, of course, tell the ex-football captain that he liked it. But he did. The second thought was that this moment was literally everything. So much drama in drama club today, he wished he had a mug for all this spilled tea. Marsh might not approve of Shauna’s thoughts on love and affection, but it was times like this that he loved his lesbian bff. Shauna had the same fire that he did, the drama queen to his king, and had today not sucked so royally, he might even be participating in these shenanigans himself. The Shakespeare line threw him, however, because he knew how much she disliked the old dead guy. “Eww, Shauna.”

It seemed like Ms. May didn’t want Rose to leave. Grumbling to herself, she slumped down in a seat, part of the circle now, and watched two of the most influential people at this school brawl. Her seat was right next to the boy named after a white, fluffy, good snack. Best heated, with chocolate and graham crackers. Not really wanting to listen to their verbal strikes, Rose slipped out her headphones that were attached to her phone and plugged them in her ears. She’ll play her video game playlist. It seemed fitting. The first song to play was the Mortal Kombat theme song and she simply stood silent and watched everyone.

Geeze, did people really take drama this seriously? Had he not made his point? And they said the jocks were macho maniacs and overdid it. This was nutty… Whatever. Damian winked at Shauna, yes, he did. Then he spoke. “Away, I say. Now by the gods that warlike Goths adore, this petty brabble will undo us all. Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous it is to jet upon a prince’s—” Perhaps not a perfect recitation, Damian put emphasis on the word ‘prince,’ “right? Titus Andronicus. That’s kindergarten shit, Shauna.” Damian, it seemed, was what he’d presented himself as. Thanks, mom. Finally, the weekly practices, the monthly plays he put on, would be worth it. If only to shut Shauna the fuck up.

Damian was right about one thing and one thing only. Titus Andronicus was kindergarten shit. What idiot didn’t know Shakespeare? The man was pedantic, pretentious, and pedestrian. Shauna had given a test that was practically open book and she wasn’t exactly impressed that he was able to poorly perform the part of Aaron. She’d expect anyone to do as much as that. “You might be able to say lines, but you can hardly perform them. Do us all a favor and leave the acting to the professionals. I’m sure our production could always use more set architects.” It was a point of pride that Shauna had the last word here. No one stepped to the Drama Queen so long as she had a say.

“Look, man. I get it. You’re angry. I just showed up, and I did everything you thought I wouldn't be able to do, but that’s no reason to be so… aggressive. Did your mother never hug you as a child? Because I’m definitely getting some unloved child vibes here.” Damian asked, his voice dripping with what seemed to be genuine concern as he leaned forward toward her, tilting his head quizzically. “And it’s one thing to take that aggression out, y’know, physically. I know an awesome Combat Club you might join. But don’t be so emotionally, you know… bitchy? Maybe people would actually like you if you weren’t such a wretched cunt. I offered to play a tree, but you guys had to keep pokin’ the pride.”

“That’s quite enough, don’t push it with the language, Damian. I am still a teacher, even if this is a club activity. Let’s get back to the task at hand. First, I would like to address Rose’s proposal. Would you mind if we made copies of the script for everyone to review before the next time the club meets?” Ms. May cut into the conversation that was turning much more vitriolic than was appropriate for a school function.

Errr, taking out her headphones, Rose stared at the teacher and dumbly blinked, “...come again?”

“Rose gave me some copies, Ms. May. I can make enough for everyone after drama club.”

“Fabulous, thank you, Marshall. Let’s all check out the story before our next meeting, and we will table the discussion of this semester’s production until then. Next on this list to get through today is our fundraiser. As you know, each school club is required to hold at least one fundraiser per semester. The drama club usually puts on a spring talent show, so be sure to get involved somehow — be it working the event, or participating in it. Perhaps you can put some of those emotions to good use, Mr. O’ Connor and Miss Flynn, by raising money for the Childhood Cancer Foundation.” The blonde teacher concluded with a warm smile. She then walked over to Marshall and Rose to obtain a copy of the script for herself. “And I do hope that you will be joining us, Rose. You have a lovely voice.”

Talent show, huh? Damian was feeling like actually being in a play was pretty… toxic. And he wasn’t about that life, BUT a talent show? That was something he might be able to get behind. It would be a much easier way to show off for his mother, rather than trying to get the leading role in a play where egos were this big… Damian nodded to himself, and without another word to Shauna, walked over to where Marshall and Rose were sitting, taking a seat on the other, free side of Marshall. “Wanna be partners for the talent show?” He asked, beaming.

That was unexpected. Marshall looked at the jock skeptically and all but squinted as you could visibly see the cogs turning in his mind. Why on earth did Damian want to be his partner? Damian, friend of Owen, BHHS’s very own resident ‘gay basher’, who still seemed very much so out to get Marshall. This was fishy. Despite his responses usually being well-thought out, sassy, and very put together, Marsh could only manage to reply with a: “What?”

“Me. You. Partners. Do a scene together. For the talent show?” This time, Damian deliberately spoke slower.

“Why me?” Marshall asked, his suspicion clear and plain in the tone of his voice.

“...because you’re good at this and I want a competent partner since you guys are nutty as fuck and I don’t want to try and get the leading role anymore? I’m content playing a tree, but if I can put a show on for my mama, that’d be cool.”

At that, Damian did just about the only thing that he could have done to distract Marshall from his suspicions (at least momentarily). Damian spoke to Marsh’s pride. He was good at this, he was the best at it, in fact. Marshall’s lips quirked up slightly. “Well, at least you have good taste, because you’re not wrong. I suppose I can agree to that.”

“Me? Acting? _{I-don’t-know-if-I’d-be-good.}” Or even if her schedule would allow it! From smoking weed to preparing for the fashion show to being home doing stupid stuff with her friends to helping with the set of whatever play they chose… Rose had A LOT going on. But it would be a new experience and Ms. May said she had a lovely voice. How would her mama and daddy feel if she was acting beside shiny people like Marshall, Shauna, and Damian? Potentially her play too! Her cheeks grew warm at the idea of making her parents smile in the audience, while she stood on stage. “I’ll think about it, Ms. May…” Oh snap, she forgot there was a talent show. Dude, she and her friends should do stupid stuff on stage. That would be dope.

Owen wiped the sweat off of his brow and sucked down a fresh Gatorade, Glacier Freeze flavor, before he climbed up on top of the corner of the boxing ring in the center of the gym, and sat there, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes. “Maya. Play something calm.” He said, speaking allowed to his Assistant. The gym was nothing but him; he’d turned the sign to say closed, but hadn’t bothered locking the door. What kind of asshole would let themselves in while the sign said ‘closed?’ He had no problem playing loud music and reflecting on the day.

He checked his phone, and seeing no text messages from Trixie, Owen dropped his phone to the ground as the music filled the area. Owen nodded to himself, mentally praising his assistant. Good choice. He put his elbows on his thighs and put his head in his hands. Owen let out a long breath, and thought about how he let things get so bad.

Why couldn’t he just be like Sebastian, or even Gabriel? They would have taken matters into their own hands, and used their fists to fix things. Owen could do that; Owen had the skill to fight most people, but Hailey and her goons? That was easy. He could have beat them into submission and taken his prize.

And with his prize in hand, the Lyon would roar.

But Owen wasn’t Sebastian. Owen wasn’t Gabriel.

He just wanted Trixie back. Was that so much to ask? All he needed was to talk to her. So why didn’t he? Why was he afraid of her reaction? Because he knew that if she reacted poorly, it was one and done. He had to pad the reaction as mucha s he could, which may prove to be harder than he’d thought, since the silver tongued snake was always with her.

Fucking Ophelia. Maybe he should just tell Belle, or even his mom. But, that would bring in the whole family crashing down on them, and he didn’t want that. Didn’t want to deal with the frustrations he knew would come from that route. He’d fix this himself.

Owen ran his hand through his hair, and watched sweat droplets fall to the ground and he let out a long breath, snapping his fingers. The lights in the gym cut, and it got dark; the only remaining one was the dome light above the ring. He needed a break.

The mid afternoon sun was beaming down on the Hills outside of the gym, the area strangely absent of the buzzing with the usual bustle of Beverly Hills at this hour. While the sun was beating down, the air was still cold, chilled by a light breeze. Jamie’s breath turned to mist in front of him as he bustled towards the front door of the gym, pulling it open and walking inside.

Yes, he’d been planning to meet Owen on Wednesday, but Jamie’s curiosity had forced his hand on this one. He’d driven by the gym and spotted Owen’s car, and decided it was now or never. Walking into the gym, Jamie was immediately hit by the smell of sweat, a hot, moist air wrapping around him and enveloping his senses. God I can practically taste the masculinity.

Making his way through the dark gym, Jamie eventually came upon Owen, alone in a boxing ring, sitting under the one light in the gym. And they say the gays have a flair for the dramatic, Jamie thought, rolling his eyes. He didn’t have a very high opinion of the boy, but that much wasn’t very secret to anyone. Whatever his thoughts on Trixie, he didn’t like cheating, and what Owen had done to Marshall at the party was shitty. He hadn’t remembered much, but he remembered that. His teeth ground together at the thought of The Abominable Snowman here shoving Marshall against the door. That said, he’d try to be professional, for the sake of the story. ”Owen Lyon, just the man I wanted to talk to,” Jamie said, holding his notebook and a pencil out in front of him.

Owen did not initially look up. He kept his head in his hands, and wondered why he even bothered turning the fucking sign to say ‘closed.’ He should have known it would be out of the reach of the people who lived in L.A. to honor such a request as to ‘stay out of my place of business.’ “Gym’s closed. Didn’t you see the sign?” It was then that Owen looked up, hoping off the place where he sat and taking in the person that had invaded his sanctum. Jamie? The guy that was on the newspaper? The snake? “What are you doing here? Don’t you have… anything or where else to be? Shouldn’t you be trying to steal Trixie’s spot, or something?” Owen leaned on the ropes, rather surprised that Jamie was here. For what reason, he did not know, but Owen was sure of one thing. He’d probably disagree with it.

Jamie rolled his eyes. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but the resistance Owen gave was still a nuisance. But, he kept his cool and soldiered on, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He didn’t need to piss off Owen on his home turf. “I’m here to ask you some questions about your breakup with Trixie. Get your side of the story. You two were a big deal, and the breakup shocked everyone. Trixie got a chance to say her piece, but I think the people would be more interested in hearing what you have to say, assuming you’re willing,” Jamie said, doing his best to make it seem as if he was doing Owen a favor, rather than trying to figure out why he cheated on his ex-girlfriend, and then report back to her.

Almost immediately, Owen’s face soured. He slipped through the ropes and jumped down to the floor, walking forward so he stood across from Jamie, arching one of his eyebrows, “what, are you serious?” He questioned, before shaking his head. “I’m not interested. Thank you, though. I don’t like talking about my personal life, especially not with the media.” Owen explained, trying his best to take the civil way, though all the different reasons flooding through his head for Jamie to be approaching such a subject did nothing but irk him.

He flicked his head toward the door. “Now, since both of us know you have no business in a gym, the doors right there. Don’t let it hit you on the way out, okay?” Owen was done with this discussion, and he hoped he did a good job of sending that message.

Jamie’s exterior remained cool and collected, even through Owens snide comment. Asshole. Jamie probably should’ve turned around and left. But Jamie wasn’t the type to let a story go. So he tried again. “Look, I get that you aren’t my biggest fan, but a statement from you would go a long way, especially for you. Dispel the homophobe rumors, and get Trixie to see your side of the story? If you want to reach her, a story in her paper is the way,” Jamie said. How could this kid resist that? Jamie was practically offering him his ex back, an ex that everyone and their mother, knew he wanted back. He had to take the bait.

Kid didn’t get the idea of ‘no,’ did he? He wasn’t going to feed Jamie a ‘story’ for the paper, he wasn’t going to be something that people gawked at. At the homophobe comment, though, Owen scowled. Did people seriously buy into that bullshit? His best friend had been fucking Marshall before this had happened, for God’s sake. “Why is it so hard for you to get it? I don’t want that kind of thing to be published. Especially not by you, you’d find a way to blow it out of proportion and sensationalize it. I. Do. Not. Trust. You. Don’t you get that, man?” Owen made a face again, before adding, “Marshall was my best friend for five years. If people think I’m a homophobe, they’re projecting and using me to fill the villain role in their life. Now, do you need me to escort you to the door, or something?”

Jamie did his best to bite his tongue. He really did. But Marshall came up and he just couldn’t help the retort that slipped past his lips. ”Yeah, sure seemed like it when you slammed him up against a door and almost beat his face in. I’m sure he really felt the love there,” Jamie said, turning around and storming towards the door, his blood pumping like he’d just run a marathon. Why had he gotten so peeved? Marshall? Did he care that much about him that he was willing to take on Owen Lyon? Apparently so.

“Fuck you, man!” Owen barked, throwing his middle finger at Jamie’s back as he walked away. Fucking coward; he showed up and pushed his buttons, then left as soon as it got scary. “You always walk away when you get upset? You’re a coward, Jamie…” Owen folded his arms over his chest, and carried on.

“Aren’t you? That’s why some random guy had to step in, and save Marshall for you. Since you ain’t got the balls to take a shot. That’s okay, I don’t blame you. Your pretty little face might collapse, and that just wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

Whoop, there it is. Jamie froze just as he was about to exit the gym, spun on his heel and marched right back towards Owen. The rational part of his brain had been switched off. His heart was slamming against his chest, as if trying to warn him against what he was considering. But he kept going. ”I’d rather be a coward then a cheater, Lyon. Oh, wait. According to Trixie, you’re both,” Jamie said, sneering ever so slightly.

If Owen were anyone else, he might not have had the self control necessarily to hold back, to drag it out, to torment Jamie. Jamie had asked for this, he’d butted in somewhere he didn’t belong, broaching a subject he didn’t have any business involved in. Owen would show him, definitively, once and for all, that Owen’s relationship with Trixie was not to be ‘dug into.’ Owen controlled his breathing, did his best to control his anger, and pressed on further.

“I’m no coward, Jamie. You’re gettin’ all riled now, ain’t you? Least I don’t surround myself with the girls everyone hates because I’m desperate for attention and popularity, yeah? This is gonna get very real, very fast, man.” Owen lifted his head up, presenting his chin, tapping his jawline. “I’m gonna give you a freebie. You ever hit anyone before? Here. Go for it. Swing for the fuckin’ fences, you little bitch.”

And Jamie did just that. Making sure his thumb wasn’t inside his fist, Jamie twisted his body and extended his arm, sending a right cross straight into Owen’s jaw. Just like Dad had taught him. It hurt his hand, but he imagined it hurt Owen a hell of a lot more. No matter how buff you get, you can’t build muscle on your face.

No matter how many times he got hit, it still hurt. Even untrained fists were still fists. Bone hitting bone hurt, but Jamie wasn’t a fighter. Owen, on the other hand, was. He took a slight step back, mostly taken off guard by strength he hadn’t expected in Jamie’s small, twink-like form. He looked down at Jamie, rubbing his jaw. “Nice hit, kid.” Then, immediately, Owen’s left hand flew out, colliding with the side of Jamie’s head as he stepped into it, using the small distance from the stumble he’d had. Then, his right hand came up in an uppercut, a one two combo that came out fast as lightning.

After Jamie fell on his back, Owen stepped forward, rolling his neck. “Now you get up, you leave, and you don’t ever come back.” Owen said in a low growl, his eyes dark.

Jamie had never been punched in the face before, but he’d come to a conclusion after only one time. It fucking hurt. But he wasn’t about to let that show. He gritted his teeth and quietly stood back up, his eye already swelling where Owen’s fist had connected. “Cheating on Trix was the best thing you could’ve done for her,” Jamie said, before turning and walking out, grabbing his notebook off the ground on his way. Once the refreshing breeze hit his face he felt his jaw begin to ache where Owen had punched it. God this was gonna hurt for a while. Ever the faithful servant though, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Trixie.

Quincy was, for the first time in forever, putting some effort into how she looked. Yeah, she’d looked like a hobo all day at school, but that didn’t mean she had to look like a hobo when she went out with A Double. Obviously she wasn’t going to completely doll herself up, that would be preposterous. But a spritz of perfume, and, gasp, some make-up weren’t going to hurt.

In other words, Quincy was head over heels. If anyone saw her as she looked in the mirror at that moment, they could tell you as much. Because there’s not a person alive who stresses as much as Quincy was over a simple fling. Quincy was, for better or worse, falling very quickly for A Double. Well, more accurately, she’d been falling for a very long time. She just hadn’t realized it quite yet.

A Double wasn’t thinking this through quite as much as Q. He had parked the car in front of Q’s house almost ten minutes ago, but he had told Wyatt they were gonna give Q a minute to do ‘girl stuff.’ To be honest? A Double wasn’t sure what ‘girl stuff’ pertained to, but he knew from experience that it took her at least fifteen minutes to get ready.

Now that it had been about ten, he texted Q a simple text saying that they were there! Then, he turned over to Wyatt. “Okay, dude. She should be here soon! The longer we wait, the more tacos I’m gonna eat, man. I really like tacos.”

Wyatt grinned at the thought of tacos. ”I’m gonna get like...at least twelve. I fucking love tacos, and I am so hungry. God, where is Q?”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the passenger side door opened up and Q was suddenly there, causing a very stoned Wyatt to jump with shock. ”Woah, Q, long time no see!” he said, earning an eye roll and a smirk from Q. ”Nice to see you too Wyatt. Now, uh, can ya move?” Wyatt looked down at his seat. Why would he move? He always sat shotgun. He looked over at A Double, and then back at Q, and then back at A Double, and once more to Q before he pieced it together. ”Ohhhhhhhhh.” Wyatt nodded and clambered into the back seat, as Q took his place, leaning over and planting a kiss on A Double’s cheek. ”Hey,”

A Double watched as Wyatt clambered into the back and shrugged his shoulders. He sort of agreed with it, but he couldn’t remember the last time Wyatt hadn’t rode shotgun! Weird, man. He shifted the car into gear and pulled onto the rode, smiling over at Q. “Hey! You excited for tacos. I’m excited for tacos.” He said happily, heading toward the spot. “So, hey, I offered to buy that dude you punched tacos, but he didn’t want any tacos, and he was really upset. So I guess he and his friends aren’t gonna hang around at the spot anymore? Which is okay! I told him about another skatepark that’s pretty killer across town. I hope they find a place to hang out! I dunno how I feel about people leaving. Burntown’s supposed to be welcoming, not scaring people off-ing.” A Double paused, and gave Q a rather serious look.

“I’m not gonna tell you to not punch people. Really, I’m not gonna tell you not to do anything, because I can’t really tell you what to do. But I’m gonna ask really nicely… please don’t punch people at Burntown? Punch them away from Burntown. Like, by all means, babe. Punch. But not in the happy place.” There. That was handled maturely, right?

Q chewed her lip for a second. How was she gonna go about this? C’mon Q, it’s A Double. Straight forward is the only way to go, she thought, looking out at the road. She then turned to face her boyfriend, frowning slightly. ”Look, A Double, they don’t want to hang out at Burntown cause they don’t approve of us being y’know… together. They don’t like that I used to be friends with Hailey and the Bitch Brigade,” she explained, biting her lip as her stomach did flips.

A Double listened to her talk, and when she said her piece, he frowned slightly. “Really? That’s dumb. You’re not friends with them anymore! Even if you were, we don’t… really have a problem with Hailey and her friends. They are friends right? I can never really tell.” A Double shrugged his shoulders, “People are weird. Why can’t they just be relaxed like me?” He said, making a discontent face. If everyone just chilled the fuck out, the school and the world alike would be much different, and much better places.

Quincy shook her head, sighing. “It’s high school babe, that’s why. That said, Hailey’s bubble of protection isn’t exactly extended to every outcast who happens to join our merry little band. I’m guessing that’s why they weren’t too pleased. But, that’s bullshit anyways. Are Raf and Rose coming?” Quincy asked, doing her best to change the subject without being too obvious. She didn’t want to talk about BHHS politics anymore, it exhausted her.

A Double wasn’t necessarily a smart man, but he definitely wasn’t a dumb one. He caught onto the attempts to change the subject, though when Q brought up something else, her choice of subject brought a look of surprise to his face. He totally forgot about them! Oops, time to assemble the squad. “Oh… oops. I forgot to text them! But now I’m driving… Can one of you two do it? I bet they’ll want to come. They’re our best friends, after all.” WHOOPS. “Just tell ‘em to meet us at the spot.”

Wyatt had been seated in the back, quietly looking down at his shoes. This was partly because he’d become mesmerized by the materials they were made of, the complex weaving and stitching, but also because Q had taken his spot. And it felt...shitty? It’s no big deal WyGuy. Calm down,” he told himself, fending off the oh so swift feelings of abandonment that had always seemed so common. Wyatt perked up though, at the mention of Rose and Raf. “I’ll text ‘em in the group chat,” Wyatt said, pulling out his phone and slowly typing a text to the crew’s group chat.

Although she carried her day with strength, the moment she was no longer surrounded by a thousand, the moment she no longer had to smile, the moment she no longer had to fight, where she was alone and in the comfort of her bedroom, she couldn't help but feel the stillness of the afternoon. She couldn't help but feel lonely. Laid out on her desk were things he left for her throughout the day. Two notes and a flower. She hadn’t checked her locker until after the club meeting, which was honestly for the best. If fate had timed things any sooner, she might’ve spent most of her day in the girls bathroom. Not necessarily crying, but a means to get away from it all.

Wouldn’t that be nice? Getting away from it all.

The first thing that brought to surface these… emotions... she continuously tries to surpass but with little to no avail was hearing him on the morning show. She couldn’t help but laugh at his endearing self and lean in closer, on the edge of her seat, curious of what he’d do next. There were some things people would never be good at, being a videographer was one for him.

That brought back fond memories, of a time where no one else mattered but them. When they naively loved each other and didn’t consider anything, or anyone else. It wasn’t until she became closer with her cousins where a love they had, wouldn’t work in the long run. The reality of their situation was, their love, her love for him, as pure and genuine as it was, distracted her from facing her own personal demons — demons she wasn’t ready to face.

Was she ready to face them now? No, not really, but… she didn’t want to run away from her problems. She didn’t want to run away from the truth, as painful as the truth may be. She didn’t want to run away from him. He didn’t deserve that. He did more good than bad, even if the bad weighed heavily on her. He helped her feel like she belonged and that she was important and worth every second of his day. He gave her effortless care. Something she needed. Being surrounded by family and friends doesn’t necessarily mean your life is okay. If anything, that could be another form of loneliness. It took a break up for people to take time out of their day to show they care. To show it wasn't always about them. To show that even among the chaos that was life, she could be found.

He just… cared.

The letter in her locker, or well purse, felt like she got hit in the head by an anvil or her entire body collided with a speeding train. Opening her locker and seeing all her things that she had forgotten in his car or bedroom or both made her heart sink. The feeling of him being completely done with her... Even the slight hope of them rekindling a friendship felt like it was no longer in their foreseeable future. She hadn’t checked her purse until she was home and saw the flower on her bed. He was here? Owen was here in her bedroom?

Owen was here. Hi. Don’t be mad.

The flower was different. Not a lily. And yet, the sentiment still held the same value. Actually, it had more, because of the meaning the flower had. He was such a goddamn romantic… and all his love was still directed to her. Why whenever she felt like she was on the right track, something happens that makes her want to go back? With the discovery of the items on her bed, she went through her things to see if he left anything else and he did…

Can I
Trixie
I suck with words
Please
Come ba
Call me
I miss yo

Follow your heart.

— Kitty

That note hit her the hardest. She knew he was well aware of what he did. He didn’t change papers, because he wanted her to see she was still on his mind. He wanted her to see that he still loved her.

He wanted her to see…

Sitting at her desk, the flower having been placed in a small vase with the lily from earlier and the two notes laid out on top of her open journal, Trixie endlessly surveyed these gifts (which were both a blessing and a curse).

The notes will reside in her journal until she figured out what she wanted to do with it — later. Trixie peered out her window, staring at the welcoming sight of the warm sky. The sky that kept her company, as she reached for her phone that waited for her beside her laptop. The action was hesitant, but the undeniable yearning urged her to press on. Her muscle memory typed Owen’s number, since she took him off her speed dial and contacts, during her emotional breakout. Biting her bottom lip as her finger hovered over the call bottom, she wondered if this was the right thing to do.

Unanswered questions, always.

Would she regret this moment? Would she regret reconnecting and hearing him out? Would she be able to handle this?

Never ready to face a beast like this, Trixie prolonged pressing the button. She was terrified. Terrified of how he would be. What if the way she was now, 'part of the bitch brigade', bit her in the ass? What if this wasn't a happy conversation? What if word vomit just comes out and all she can be is an insufferable bitter-bitch-ex?

What if.

As if life knew, it wasn’t time yet, she flinched when her phone vibrated in her hand, having stared intensely at Owen’s number for a good minute or two. Reading Jamie's text out loud, internally thanking him, she couldn't help but be a little shocked he had seen Owen so soon. Admirable how fast Jamie went straight to business.

To: Jamie Callaghan
He can be. Thanks.

Placing her phone down, Trixie sighed to herself. What was she doing? She was lying to herself. Her heart told her one thing, but her brain told her another. He cheated on her. He made his mistake. He… her eyes glanced at her light green pack of sticky notes and trailed to her pens. After a lingering stare, she got up and went to her closet. Sliding the door open, her gaze went immediately down to the ground to a box. A box with his things.

Going to her knees, she pulled out the box and took out his jacket. She brought his jacket close to her in an embrace and buried her face in it. When she thought she was all out of tears, they started flooding out again… tenfold.

She missed him.