Did the boys forget there was a wide window above the sink that gave Remy a perfect view of the backyard? This included the treehouse, which was not too far away from the vegetable garden. He saw JD climb up to presumably nap until dinner. He saw his youngest and broodiest son shuffle his way to his safe haven, probably to contemplate his existence. He saw his eldest and honest son, with battle scars it seemed, which would be brought up at the table, seek out his brother, probably to talk about said scars. And Damian came to him, said he’d be sleeping over for an undetermined amount of time, and also went to that treehouse.

These boys love that treehouse. To the point that his sons would go there first before saying ‘hi, dad, i’m home’. Thank you, Damian, for making your presence known. For saying HI.

This was a normal afternoon at the Wells’ residence. Remy chuckled to himself as he held a rustic tray with drinks for all his boys. The kitchen was massive — light colors and wide windows to keep things bright, spacious so he didn’t feel claustrophobic while he cooked, rustic furniture and knick knacks for a more homey feel, and magazine-esque decor — like perfect-looking fruit in a bowl, because, why not? The kitchen was HIS PLACE and he liked things a certain way. The flowers here and there were just pretty and smelled nice. Humming to himself a song that his husband had wrote for him years ago, Remy entered the small dining room area, strictly for immediate family, which was by the back entrance, and placed each drink down by the suspects’ usual seats. Starting at the end, and going counter clockwise. Red moscato for himself. Yummy! Milk for his charming and always smiling Trevor. Water for (the spitting image of his father) Damian. Warm tea for the night to his day, moon to his sun, and apple to his cinnamon, Jareth. One of the many homemade, healthy juices that JD surprisingly takes a strong liking too (not because of white lies or anything). Today it was Remy’s green juice with parsley, spinach, pears, and celery. Absolutely delectable. And last, but not least, chocolate milk for his sensitive son with far too much on his mind, Riley.

Taking a step back, hugging the wooden tray now, the feminine father scanned the table. It was the start of the second semester, which meant spring was just around the corner, so he let green and yellow be the aesthetic of the table placements. He even put daffodils at the center in a small vase! He loved when all his boys were home, so this was a special occasion. Every night was a special occasion, and the table’s “aesthetic” always changed in color. He couldn’t decide what type of cuisine to make. Italian? French? Indian? Chinese? There were too many options, but he settled with southern comfort food. You could never go wrong with pan-fried chicken, sweet heat cheerwine baby back ribs, bbq pulled pork, hush puppies, Brunswick stew, pot pie, country-fried corn sprinkled with bacon, a bunch of greens, mashed potatoes, cornbread, biscuits, gravy, pimento cheese, deviled eggs, peach cobbler, fried green tomatoes… and just know that he spent most of his day cooking. Yes, he did have work, but that doesn’t mean dinner needs to be dull. He had an army to feed, so Remy made time to cook a feast. He also had a section for Damian, just in case today was not a cheat day, but it was a very tiny section with greek yogurt, some oats and almonds, and a baked chicken breast. A tiny baked chicken breast. The fried chicken was placed very close to the tiny baked chicken breast. Remy was not a bad influence! He simply liked seeing people enjoy his food.

Speaking of the army…

Riley was the first to enter. A small smile, but not very genuine. “Hi, dad. Here, I’ll take that. Sit. You did a lot.” Riley took the wooden tray from his father, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Next came JD — Dixon, as he preferred to be called — with his fists balled up the front pocket of his hoodie. He looked angry, and tired, but mostly angry. This wasn’t unusual. When he looked to Remy, however, his face softened slightly. “Hey DadWells!” JD greeted before taking his seat at the table, in front of the green juice. He leaned over and peeked into the cup to inspect it, even going so far as to sniff it. As a kid, when he had originally told Remy that his favorite drink was juice, he had meant like… apple… or orange… but that wasn’t really Remy’s style. It was homemade everything in the Wells household, but JD was used to that by now.

Following Dixon, were Trevor and Damian, walking side by side. A package deal. Damian was running some serious defense on this play, at least, that was the hope. Trevor was doing his best to act natural, and not bring attention to his busted face, if that was at all possible. When the two teens reached the door, they couldn’t very well both fit through it at the same time, so there was a bit of an awkward pause as they decided who went first, bumping into each other like goons. Trev went first, finally hazarding a glance towards Remy. Smiling, he spoke: “Hi Dad, need any help?”

Damian was hungry. Now, he was almost always hungry, on account of all the muscles, and the sheer size of him (absolute unit), but he was nonetheless hungry. He knew his numbers well; how many calories he burned a day, how many he had to intake, how much protein he needed (he was pretty much always on a bulk, so it was a lot of protein), and how much good food he could eat. The truth was? Not much good food, really. Whenever Mrs. Wells, head chef of Captain Cuddles, laid out a spread, Damian was left saddened by all the delicious food that he couldn’t eat. Life was hard, but he wanted to stay really fucking jacked. He was happy to see the tiny spot set aside with food for him, but he knew damn well that Remy wanted him to cheat on his diet.

Bastard.

Damian scooped some of the greek yogurt into a bowl, before adding a generous helping of oats and grabbing the chicken breast. Then, he turned his attention to Remy, “Maybe… two chicken breasts next time? Look, Mrs. Wells, it ain’t easy stayin’ real jacked.” Damian helped with dinner most of the time, but right now? He was hungry and mentally burned out. It’d been a long day and he hadn’t even gotten his dick wet.

Well, he kind of had, but that was just because Joy’s shorts were thin and it was only on jeans which reminded him… “Hey, I just remembered I need clean clothes for school tomorrow. Do I got clothes here? Uh…” Damian sniffed under his arm. “Shirt’s good, I guess. Also, by the way, Mr and Mrs. Wells, I’m gonna be stayin’ here for, uh, the foreseeable future.”

“Is that so?” Inquired a voice from behind the squad of boys. Jareth brought in the rear and shut the back door gently after himself. Jar walked over to his husband, kissed his cheek, and rubbed his shoulder softly as he walked around the other side of him to take his seat. He looked back to Damian. “And why might that be?”

“My mama gonna beat my ass with a shovel.”

Remy gave Damian a narrowed side glare, before brightly smiling at his husband, “Regardless of the reason, Damian’s always welcomed here!” And then directed everyone to the table, “Now everyone take a seat, I didn’t make all this food for nothing — except you, Trevor.” Remy beckoned his son with his finger to ‘come here’.

And there it was. Trevor swallowed hard. He wasn’t scared of his father, Remy was probably the least scary person in the world, but Trev was pretty terrified of disappointing him. Disappointment was way, way worse than anger. The tall ginger boy walked over to his father and immediately started trying to explain it. “It was at football practice. It’s fine, Riley helped me clean it.” Half truths, no lies, all was well with the world.

“... I just wanted my kiss on the cheek.” Remy gave a playful wink and offered his face, but first he gave a kind, soft beam, and a forgiving stare. “I trust you. If it isn’t something you think I need to be involved in, then I won’t, but if you come home with more bruises, then that’s when it becomes a problem. My problem. Okay?”

Oh. Did Remy just bait his son into an explanatory apology? If so, it totally worked, Trevor was gullible enough when it came to the people that he cared about. Which was most people… so... he could be pretty gullible. Internally and metaphorically breathing a sigh of relief, Trev closed the distance between himself and his dad, and kissed his cheek. “Yeah, it’s fine. No bruises, just the lip.” And the back of his head, but thankfully his hair covered that.

“At least you don’t have lip rings. That shit would suck.” Dixon quipped before taking a sip from his cup of green juice. He peered over the rim of the glass, testing the waters of using a swear. His parents cursed like sailors, and PopWells did too, but DadWells was a little bit more sensitive. JD was fourteen now, he could say as he pleased. Shit was probably fine... at least it wasn’t fuck. He’d work his way up to that one. JD was rewarded by a furrowed brow from Remy, but the father decided to ignore the curse word and give his eldest boy a dismissal nod, to signal that he was free to sit down.

Jareth chuckled at that, seeing a whole lot of his bandmate, Lucas, in the young emo dining at their table. The Piccoli’s were a terse, uncouth bunch — but good people. He wouldn’t trade them for the world. Jar looked over to the son that took most after him now, and smiled. “You’re quiet, Rye. Was school okay?”

Of course Pops would bring him into the conversation from the get go. Riley circled the rim of his cup with his finger and gave Jareth a half-hearted smile, if it could even be called a smile. “It was eventful. Especially during my show. Met Evelyn Green for the first time. She’s… intimidating. Not gonna’ lie.” Yeah, Riley would focus on the show, which was primarily about Damian and Henry. Nothing too personal.

“Hah!” Jareth grinned at that. He reflected on his first encounter with Evelyn. He was just a teenager from Colorado then, visiting California for the very first time. His new friends had gotten him high as fuck and all of the sudden rock music idol Evelyn Harding (pre-Green) was standing right in front of him. It was mortifying, but that day was the start of everything — his music career, this fancy roof over their heads, having a family. So worth it. “Yeah… she always has been. Why… why was she at the school?” That seemed odd.

Suddenly, Trevor’s phone started going off. The ginger looked down at the screen, read the contact Ma, and immediately looked over to Damian, his eyes wide. He tilted the screen towards Dames to emphasize the point. Speak of the devils…

Damian, his mouth full of yogurt and oats, stared at the screen, and considered his options. Damian considered them carefully, as he did not have many. After a few moments, he reached out with a single, silent finger, and hit the red button.

The phone went off again. This time Remy looked at both of the boys, “Damian, you can’t run away from your mother. You’re only going to make things worse.”

The ringing kept going and then Riley stood up and reached over the table, ripping the phone from them, “Jesus Christ, that’s so fucking annoying.”

“Hey!”

Green button. Speaker. “Sorry, dad…. Hi... Mrs. O’Connor, it’s Riley!”

“Riley? Where’s your brother?”

Damian frowned. He'd ignored the call! Why was she so bloody persistent? Looking across the table at the little brother they all shared, Damian made his call. “JD, get the phone and pass it to me! Sorry, Trev,” he said sadly, glancing over at his friend. If the phone broke, Damian would buy him another.

Dixon snatched the device off of the center of the table, as if this were sport. Jesus, who knew the kid could move so fast? It must be all of those lessons at the combat club with Troy. As he grabbed the phone, Damian’s mother’s voice echoed from under his palm (“DAMIAN, I SWEAR TO GOD!”), and he chucked the thing full force at Damian. Yikes. Trevor dodged out of the phone’s path, just in case JD missed Damian entirely. “Do you not think about anyone but yourself!?”

Damian snatched that bitch out of the sky like it was the game winning pass of the most important game in his lifetime. “We'll talk later!” Then, using his expert quarterback skills, Damian pitched the phone through the air with expert, precise aim. “What do you mean later?!” It sailed over all the heads and above the sink — “Your father is going to be home in like an hour!” — through the just barely cracked window, spiraling all the way. His mother was the birds' problem now. Satisfied, Damian ate some more yogurt.

And then, when they thought the war was over, Remy’s phone started to ring. Jareth looked over to Remy. Remy glanced at his sons, JD, and then locked eyes with Damian. JD laughed. Trevor cringed. Riley dully blinked. Damian returned the stare, simply shaking his head. Don't do it, man. Think of the children.

Do not tell him through a stare that he doesn’t think about the children! Remy rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. Standing up, he looked down at ‘Melody O’Connor’ and the picture he took years ago of Connor wrapping his arms around her and she staring up at him with doe eyes. Where were they again? A trip to a waterfall if he wasn’t mistaken… either way!

He did it. He picked up the phone, but he didn’t put it on speaker. “Hi Mel, yes, yes your son is here… no! He isn’t avoiding you. I actually invited him over because you know how bad I’m at fixing things and Jar is too lazy—” Jareth’s fork stopped midway to his mouth as he gaped at his husband, taking offense to the implications on his character as part of this lie. Remy gave the hubby an apologetic stare and if he could, he would make a heart with his hands, but one was holding a phone. “He also has this huge project with Trevor. Even with everything that’s going on, he absolutely has to put school first…. mhm, yeah, I get it. I know. I KNOW. Here, how about this. Why don’t you tell Connor? Soften the blow. You know, do that thing you do that always makes him smile…. what if it doesn’t work? Come on, Mel. Really? You’re talented and Connor can’t deny you.” There was a brief pause, before Remy chuckled, “Do you remember our first party together? It was wild. You were wild. If anything, you should be proud your boy threw such an awesome bash! You are! That’s great… yes, I know ‘but Connor’, I’m sure you’ll handle it. I’ll even give Damian a bunch of food for you to share with him. Doesn’t that sound great? Oh! He’s home early? You’re nervous? You’ll be fine. I believe in you. Now go do your thing. If you need a pep talk, call Belle. Talk to you later, sweetie. Love you too.” Click. Remy sat back down, tossing his phone on the table, and immediately went to putting food on his plate. It was probably getting cold. Hmpf.

“Wow.” Dixon commented, happily chewing on a piece of fried chicken. He was impressed by all of that. The phone call, Damian’s expert toss, DadWells’ perfect speech. JD clearly enjoyed all of it, and was very glad that he had made it to “family” dinner.

Damian looked across the table at Remy, his mouth full of food, and gave a thumbs up, before talking, his mouth still full of food. “Thanks, Rem. Really appreciate it.” Damian said, munching down the food in his mouth, before he turned to look at Trevor, “I think Trevor has some news.”

Trevor cleared his throat after swallowing a bite of food. Time to take the heat back off of Damian, because that’s what bros do. “Uhm, yeah… so, I have a date on Friday.”

Savannah walked into homeroom, journal and pen in hand. She was ready to talk and redeem herself from yesterday, after her article turned sour (as deemed by Riley). Her green eyes darted around the room- he had to be here somewhere. After all, they did have homeroom together. Finally, her eyes landed on him. He was sitting in the corner surrounded by some other guys on the football team and didn’t seem too into the conversation, so she’d be the perfect distraction- she hoped.

Slowly walking over to him, she sat down at the empty desk in front of the boy and smiled genuinely, attempting to grab his attention. “Hey, Damian. Do you have a second?”

Damian’s mind was elsewhere. Last night had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions. His mom was pissed, and he knew she was pissed, because she’d called Trevor and then Remy right after… Sheesh. He was narrowly avoiding the executioner’s tax; a swing of the axe. As such, his mind wasn’t really into the conversation his ex-teammates were having, so when Savannah (right? she was redheaded. he should have had this down) approached him, he was more than happy to stand up.

“Yes, totally. Sure. Let’s go to the hall.” Damian said, before taking her arm and leading her to the hall.

Savvy was a little surprised with how enthusiastic Damian was acting- wasn’t he still supposed to be upset about the whole ordeal? Dropping her bag on a chair and following him to the hallway where it was a little bit quieter, the redhead tried to piece together the questions she had prepared for this interview. After all, she did practice in her mirror last night to make sure that this went flawlessly. She had already messed up once (‘messed up’ was up to interpretation- it was a bad article, but she did get a date out of it) and wasn’t planning on letting it happen again.

“So I’m the features editor for the Orange and Black and I’m writing an article about the upcoming Football season. As everyone already knows you are clearly missing from this season’s roster, so I wanted to take the opportunity to get your side of the story. Would you mind if I asked you a couple of questions?”

Damian listened to what Sav had to say, and stared at her for a few quiet moments, the only sound filling the otherwise dead air being that of the footsteps of their peers. Finally, Damian spoke in a quiet, soft voice. “That’s uh… that’s the school newspaper, right?” He said, carefully gauging her reaction. He really… really needed to keep up on these things. Damian had been so focused on getting in Joy’s pants, that he’d forgotten details like that. Look, when your mind is all stackin’ plates, bangin’ weights, and kissin’ girls, you forget irrelevant stuff like the school newspaper. It’s just bound to happen.

Sav let out a small laugh at his comment- he was kidding right? Nevermind that, she answered his question. “Yes, it’s the school newspaper.” She replied, brushing her red hair out of her face. She opened up her journal and clicked her pen so she was ready to write. “I just have a few things I want to ask you so your voice can be heard by the rest of the student body.”

Alright, that answered that. Yeah, Damian supposed he could work with the school newspaper. They were at least fair and didn’t blow things as far out of proportion as the Weekend Warrior tended to do. “Sure, hit me with the questions. I’ll answer them.” Damian said, giving her a thumbs up. If it were any other girl, he’d hit on her. ...well, that wasn’t really true anymore. He was an honest man now! But even if he didn’t have Joy, he still wouldn’t go for her. This was Trevor’s girl. Dude had good taste.

“Great, let’s jump right in.” Savannah stated, putting her finger on her first question for the ex-captain. She looked up at him. You can’t play nice, Sav. Riley’s right, a good reporter needs to get to the good stuff, not just go skin deep... She reminded herself of the conversation that her and Trevor’s brother had the previous evening, which was driving this interview. “The administration was extremely harsh on your sanctions and suspension from the team. Was your indefinite removal due to other factors, or strictly in result of the celebration you held on new years?” She asked, getting right down to the nitty-gritty.

Whoa, that was a rather tense question. Damian had expected stuff like ‘are you good at football?’ Yes. ‘Is the team good at football?’ Mostly. ‘Will they win without you?’ I’d say yes. Damian took a deep breath, taking his response into careful consideration. Saying the wrong thing was a definite possibility here, and something he certainly wanted to avoid. “Just the party. I’m pretty sure that the Coach is more upset about me being kicked than I am. It’s definitely not my grades, those are ace. Put that in there, in case my moms reads this.” Damian explained, leaning over to see the notes that Sav wrote down.

Scribbling down his main points, Sav moved onto her follow-up question. “There are...rumors that you didn’t plan this party alone. Why did you take the fault if this is the case?” In order to sound unbiased, she phrased things in a way that made it seem as though she was an outside party.

“I mean, I didn’t really take it alone. Henry was there. I guess, it sucks, but at the end of the day… Maybe I got a little singled out. Doesn’t really matter, the team will go on. I’ll go on?” Whoops. That was more of a question than a confident, brave statement. Damian repeated himself, “I’ll be just fine without football. Maybe the administration will change their mind, though. Who knows?”

“That definitely says a lot about your character, Damian. The fault of one over the fault of many isn’t an easy situation to be in, but I’m sure your friends value that quality in you.” Savannah stated, writing down as much as she could. She looked up at him, hoping that she wasn’t being all too harsh- she really did want him to be able to tell his side of the story, hence, her next question. “I want to give you the opportunity to speak- for you to say whatever you want to the administration. If they were reading this article, what would you tell them?”

These questions weren’t very easy, man. Maybe he would have been better off sitting in class and listening to boys talk about nothing. “I guess I’d just want to say… that I don’t really think this is fair… and maybe it’s a little harsh, but I mean I guess that’s your call to make. Not mine.” Damian shrugged his shoulders. He really didn’t have a whole lot to say on this subject. “What’s done is done, and I know they’re not gonna reverse it. Why would they? But maybe they can at least never do it to anyone else. They really screwed the pooch, as far as me and Henry go.”

Savannah gave him a smile. “You’re doing great.” She told him, hopefully instilling some confidence in the boy. This was a complete 180 from her interview yesterday, but it was the best flip it could be. “Just one last question for you…” She started and looked up at him in order to make sure that she was truly ready. “If you could change one thing that you did in this situation, what would it be?”

Well, that’s an easy question. This response didn’t take Damian anywhere near as long to say:

“I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

Savannah smirked, writing down the one-liner word for word. Shutting her journal, she gave an appreciative glance to Damian. “I know some of that wasn’t the easiest, but I hope that this article is meant to paint you in a different light than the administration is putting you in. Thank you, Damian, I really appreciate it.” Sav stated with a smile. This was the kind of article she needed.

Cassie skipped up the driveway of Ophelia’s home, cheer skirt flapping in the breeze as the January chill nipped at her exposed legs. The paper bag filled with weed dangled from her hand, swinging as she made her way inside. Ophelia’s home was no maze to her, not like it was to some others. The sheer size, while daunting, had become familiar to Cassie, and she quickly made her way up to the Candyland HQ, where Kit was still sound asleep on the bed.

“Kit! Wake up! Your sugar daddies have arrived, with gifts for you!” Cassie exclaimed, beaming and shaking the bag of weed around like some sort of illegal maraca. Her excitement at the moment knew no bounds as it practically wafted off of her. If there was one thing Cassie liked more than playing Cupid, it was a good time. And there was no doubt that she was about to have a good time.

“Pffft!” Marshall cracked up, following closely behind Cassie’s chipper ass. He was still carrying the pizzas, which he had somehow miraculously conquered the temptation to eat on the ride here — through the sheer force of will-power and manners alone. He might have bought the pizzas, but they were for Kit, so he could wait to partake of the greasy treat until she could as well. “We might’ve brought the sugar, but ain’t a single one of us here that could be called daddy.”

The brown-haired boy tilted his head and looked to the bed. Kit was still passed out cold — curled up in a tiny crescent shape with her blonde hair sprawled out around her face. It was adorable, enough to make him consider letting her stay asleep. She probably needed it, if she had been up for as long as she said that she was. But… if he did that, the pizza would get cold, and Captain Cuddles was best served fresh.

Marsh set down the boxes on a table and opened the pepperoni one. Kit seemed like a pepperoni kind of girl. He pulled out a slice and walked over to the bed, kneeling down beside it so that he was eye level with the sleeping freshman. Holding the slice of pizza towards Kit, Marshall wafted it under her nose like smelling salts, “Pizza’s here, sweetie, wake uuppp,” he said in a soft, sing-song tone.

Truth be told, Kit probably could have slept a lifetime. Maybe even two lifetimes, but the smell of delicious pizza was more than enough to rouse her from her Kitsleep. At least, that was what Kit called it when she went to sleep after staying up for long hours; like the Odinsleep, the Kitsleep revitalized her energy and her powers, butttt, an exception could be made for pizza. And Marshall’s smelling salts technique worked, as she opened her eyes slowly. Without talking at first, she reached out and took the pizza, slowly bringing it into her mouth.

She chewed the greasy, cheesy, deep dish, unhealthy, carboloaded piece of ooey gooey deliciousness for a long time, before she swallowed and sat up, then took another bite. And another. And then a third. Then, she polished off the bacon and cheese filled crust, and let out a deep breath. Kit rubbed her eyes.

“Did you guys get weed? And what is there to drink in here, huh? I’ve never been here before. Seen it on TV, though. Not this room, but the building. I’m real thirsty.” Kit licked her lips and considered something, before adding, “and hungry.”

“Yeah, he gave us candy weed, too! There’s a soda machine downstairs, infinite combo style. I can get some for you, what kind would you like?”

“Wait, really? Like those big red things with all the billion flavors? If you press fruit flavored, and go to orange and go to the second page, there’s Barq’s Orange Cream soda. Get me that… but, uh, maybe make it diet? I’m trying to, uh, watch my figure.”

“Ooh, girl, don’t I know that. But, no diets today, be right back!” Marshall replied before skipping off downstairs to go get Kit her orange cream soda.

Cassie grinned and strutted over to the bed and took a seat on the mattress, relishing in the familiar comfort of the bed. She opened up the paper bag and pulled out the weed, taking another whiff before placing it daintily in Kit’s lap. ”Here. This is for you,” Cassie said, beaming at Kit. ”Now, get us all high on candy flavored weed!”

Kit furrowed her eyebrows questioningly. Candy flavored weed? What did that even mean? She peered at the weed for a few seconds, before she smelled the bud. “...oh, right on. It’s Skittles! Here, hold on, I think I have a thing…” Kit rolled across the bed to her backpack and pulled it up to her lap, opening up the front pocket. Delicately, she retrieved what looked to be a hand grenade, though it was a bright orange in color. This, she placed by her side.

Then she unzipped the second most pocket, and dug around in it for a few seconds, before pulling out a small glass pipe, and a lighter (which was emblazoned with the Superman logo). She put these things aside, and grabbed the grenade. She pulled it apart and delicately dropped one of the nugs inside, before closing it again, and pulling the pin. There was a soft whirring sound, before she opened it up and looked closely at it. Now satisfied, she took the ground up bits of weed and stuffed them into the pipe. Then she put it to her mouth and lit it, blowing to cherry the bowl before she removed her finger and sucked. Then she pulled the pipe away from her mouth, and coughed valiantly, holding it out to Cassie. “Your turn.”

“She’s like a weed savant!” Ophelia exclaimed, looking over at Cassie and shaking her head. Wild. What a kid.

Cassie took the pipe from Kit, holding it daintily, and looking down at the object like it might snap at her. If Mom knew what I was doing right now...God I’d be dead, Cassie thought before taking a deep, calming breath, exhaling, and putting her lips to the pipe. Mimicking Kit, she inhaled, slowly, and for probably way too long. Removing her finger, she cleared the pipe and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, coughing as it vacated her lungs. She passed the pipe to Ophelia, tears in her eyes as her lungs threatened to tear her apart from the inside out for putting her through such an ordeal. “That does taste like Skittles!” Cassie managed to eek out in between hacks.

Ophelia accepted the offered pipe, while Kit frowned and patted Cassie on the back. Were they new? If they were new they probably shouldn’t be smoking so hard so fast… While she focused on Cassie, though, Ophelia took the pipe from her friend and stuck it to her lips. She wasn’t going to be outdone by Cassie! Powerfully, she sucked at the pipe, before clearing it. She immediately started hacking, throwing herself onto the bed and coughing frantically. Geezus! “I think I’m dying!”

“Oh, give it five minutes. It’ll pass, and you’ll be fine,” Kit tutted, shoveling another piece of pizza into her mouth with her free hand.

Following a shuffling noise from the stairwell adjacent to the door, Marshall returned, flavored cream soda in-hand. Upon walking into the room and seeing the girls passing a pipe around, Marshall’s jaw dropped, and his eyes grew wide. They were doing it! They were doing it without him. “Bitchesss, you didn’t even wait for me.” He gasped with mock-offense (mostly mock) before making his way back to the bedside. He handed the bubbly beverage to Kit before crawling on the bed beside her, laying on his stomach. “So… how’s it work?”

Cassie was too busy sputtering to offer much of a cohesive answer to her friend, so instead, she pointed to Kit. “Ask her,” she managed to get out, rubbing her sternum in an effort to reduce the burn in her chest. Despite the discomfort she was feeling, she knew that pretty soon she’d be feeling great. The light was near, she could tell.

“Man, you guys are dirty scrubs… Here,” she said, holding the pipe to Marshall's mouth. “Now, I know I'm probably the first girl to tell you this — but I bet not the first person... Suck, Marshall. Like a straw, though. Please, not like a dick.”

Marshall gasped for real this time. This girl was just… a girl. A kid! She was bold though, and… also, she wasn’t wrong. He found himself growing quite fond of this one, she was a keeper. “S’been a while, don’t really remember what that’s like, anyway.” Marsh quipped with a sigh before taking a drag off of the piece of glassware. He realized then, that he had no idea what you were supposed to do next. Did you hold it in? Breathe it back out right away?

Surprisingly enough, Marsh didn’t cough like the others had, but the urge was certainly there. This must be a trait from being a singer, him having really good breath control… Which reminded him that he probably shouldn’t be smoking right now, but, life was a mess, so whatever. Marshall exhaled then, it had probably been long enough, if there was a timing to this kind of thing.

Cassie, having recovered from her fit of coughing, grinned and clapped her hands as Marshall exhaled. “Marshie! You didn’t even cough!” she exclaimed, proud of her friend’s expertise with drug use.

“Of course not. You heard Kit, not my first time being told to suck.” Marshall said with a smirk before rolling over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling and wondered how long it would take to feel different.

Cassie swayed around to an invisible tune, before finally hooking up her phone to the bluetooth speakers in the room. “This song is a classic!

“I like that song.” Ophelia commented from her spot on the bed, wiggling her legs. Kit, on the other hand, was on her third piece of pizza. With her mouth full, she spoke.

“If you want more weed, you can use the grinder to grind some up. See how it's a grenade? I like to pretend I'm a soldier in ‘Nam when I do it. You have to go: GRENADE! GET DOWN!” Kit shouted, diving from the bed to the ground. Then, she poked her head up, resting her chin on the edge. “Then you have weed ready to be loaded! It, uh, really improves the experience.” Kit awkwardly added.

Cassie, still dancing to the music, grinned. “Well, don’t mind if I do,” she said, grabbing a nug of weed and placing it in the grenade. Laughing, she pulled the pin out. “GRENADE! GET DOWN!” she shouted, giggling. “Huh, that is fun,” she said. Once the grinder was done she packed the weed into the pipe and took another hit, smaller this time, and managed to suppress her cough. Ace. “Who’s next?” she asked, holding the pipe out for anyone who wanted it.

“Ooo, me! I still feel like me, and I don’t wanna feel like me.” Marshall rolled back onto his stomach quickly. Suddenly, he felt it, because the world was moving a little slowly. Regardless, he went with what he had said, and took another hit. This time, he did cough. I was just a tiny, dainty throat clearing, before he passed it towards Ophie, or Kit, whoever.

“You’re fun, Kit. So… tell me, what is it about the silver princess that has you all caught up?” Marsh propped his chin up on his hands and crossed his ankles above his bum while he laid on his stomach, smiling down at the little blonde.

Kathryn had to consider this carefully. No one had ever asked her why before! “Well, uhhh… She's very pretty. That's one thing… really, I've mostly spent time… Watching her… you know… From afar? Like, at family functions and stuff. She's really nice. And… Very pretty. Guess that's it really.”

“Pretty? Definitely. Nice? ...questionable. On some days.” Marshall commented, reflecting at the It girl’s catty behavior of late. Her and Brynn seemed to be beefing hard, presumably because Brynn was riding her brother’s d. What a lucky lady, honestly. Marsh was caught up in thinking about Sel’s dreamy brother when his eyebrows stitched together and he realized something odd with Kit’s statement. “Wait… did you say family functions?”

Cassie had been idly looking up at the ceiling, listening to the sweet tunes of Lana Del Rey when she heard Kit and Marshall’s conversation. She rolled over onto her stomach, eyes wide. “You guys aren’t like, related, are you?” she asked, horrified.

“Huh? No, what? My family is the… Well, we're the doctors. For the Lyons, the Greens, the Helmsleys, and the Sterlings. And a couple more I probably forget… But those are the biggest ones. So we go to the BBQs and stuff. Have you never been? They're pretty wild. You guys should go!” Kit exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Oh, not family, good... Lyons, Greens, Helmsleys, and Sterlings, all in one place… sounds… messy. You’ll have to invite me next time.” Marsh grinned at her and winked. Tapping his cheek, he mused and attempted to gather the words for his next question. His brain felt cloudy, so it wasn’t easy. “So… are you only into girls — or… just Selena’s?”

“Just Selena's. Other than her, I like doing flippy shit, playing video games, soccer, and beanies. I'm a real big fan of beanies. You should wear one. I bet you would look nice.” Kit gushed, getting another piece of pizza, which she immediately began to stuff into her mouth, “You shoulda got a bunch of cheesy bread. Like deep dish. Eight cheeses. The good shit. Just tell Ty ‘Kit wants the good shit.’ You know what else is good? Fries on pizza. Hey, do you guys like video games?”

Cassie looked up, pondering Kit’s question. Did she like video games? ”I don’t think I’ve ever even played video games,” Cassie said, before hesitantly reaching for a piece of pizza, her diet begging her not to until she suppressed the inner voice with a bite of cheesy goodness.

Marshall had unintentionally started zoning out after Kit had answered his questions. The ceiling tiles had suddenly become very fascinating. “...beanies?” He picked out a single word of the conversation. Would he look good in a beanie? After a bit of a struggle, Marsh withdrew his phone from his pocket and turned on the front-facing camera. He tried to envision a beanie on his head and, in doing so, accidentally dropped the phone on his face. “mm’fuck.”

“You guys are not very good at being high… Ophelia is like, dead. Marshall is on another planet. And Cassie’s diet is all out of whack! It's like I'm hanging out with adults… I bet you all even have alcohol problems, huh? You should start spending time in the day where you chill out for a minute, and smoke weed for an hour…” She shook her head in disappointment — weren't they supposed to be cool?! — before she dug around in her backpack and withdrew a brown Star Wars beanie, with Chewbacca’s face on it. She pulled it over Marshall's face, and held his phone up so he could look into the camera. “See?”

Cassie looked over at Marshall and Kit and grinned. “Marshie! You look great! If Jamie saw you in that...I’m sure you’d get laid like, yesterday!” Cassie exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement.

“You think so?” The now beanie-clad boy grinned and bit at his lip. He was sad earlier, and he remembered that he should probably still be sad, but that name still made him smile. And! There was totally a way that Jamie could see him like this. “I have an idea!” Making a second attempt to operate his phone camera, he snapped a selfie. No… too smiley. Delete. He snapped another one, this time with a pout. Better. After captioning it with a request to talk tomorrow morning, he boldly sent the Snapchat without proofreading, or thinking twice.

As quickly as Marshall had sent his snapchat, a text came in from the young journalist himself.

”Uh, k”

Marshall Radley once again found himself with a lot on his mind. How did his life suddenly get like this? He might be a drama star, but he was never much of a fan of tragedies. Now he was living one. He did drugs last night, for God’s sake. Not the cute gummy edible kind, either, he actually smoked pot — like some kind of… delinquent. Also, candy and multiple pieces of pizza in the same night? So much for a healthy diet. He was on a bender. Marsh was only almost-seventeen years old, and he was already having a damned mid-life crisis.

Thankfully, Marshall hadn’t gotten so wrecked that he couldn’t remember what had happened last night. He remembered it, all right. How could he forget? Apparently, a stoned Marshall gets even more confident than a regular Marshall, and he finds it appropriate to commit the weed equivalent of drunk-texting his crush. Jesus Christ… Marshall cringed at the thought of it. It’s not like he just texted Jamie, either. It was a pouty snapchat selfie captioned: can we talk tm? Thank God the picture had only existed in cyberspace for a few moments before disappearing, without screenshot. Marshall knew Jamie saw it, though… because he had responded. So much cringe.

Marsh sat in the front seat of his iridescent purple Mini, contemplating the fact that he was about to make his second attempt at explaining the party situation to Jamie. Hopefully, with a bit more success and far less interruption, this time. Although he had gotten ripped with Kit and slept over at Candyland, he asked Ophelia to give him a ride home early this morning to prepare for this conversation. If he was going to try to talk to Jamie, he needed to look really good, and certainly not look like he had gotten super baked the night before. Ohmygod, what if I looked high in the snapchat?

Sighing at the foolishness of his past self, Marshall stepped out of his car. He grabbed his leather messenger bag of schoolwork from the passenger’s seat, and his thermos of organic Throat Coat tea — which was a singer’s best friend. What was done, was done, it was time to own this chat, fix things, and totally woo Jamie Callaghan. Marshall spun on his heel confidently, and turned to see… well, the car of the last person he would want to see whilst alone. He was so startled that he jerked back and lost his grip on the porcelain Starbucks travel mug in his hand. The vessel shattered noisily, wasting the precious hot tea inside, and unfortunately drawing unwanted attention to himself. “Fuck!” Marsh exclaimed as he ducked down to pick up the larger pieces. Maybe he could go unnoticed…

Spoiler alert: he couldn’t.

But did Owen even have anything to say to Marshall? Not really, he didn’t. He didn’t have anything to say to someone who’d abandoned him when he needed him most. Someone who had chased greener pastures when things got glum for Owen Lyon. But, Owen had to make a point, and honestly? In a way, he got a sick pleasure from the way Marshall was treating him after their last confrontation. Owen sat in his car, watching Marshall scramble to pick up the remains of his tea cup, and he shook his head. Before he opened his car door, he grabbed something out of the side panel, sticking it in his pocket. He pressed the button on his car door, and it slowly shut behind him, clicking. He stepped across the parking lot, and stood in front of Marshall as he picked up his shattered glass.

“Marshall, get up.” Owen hissed, standing over his ex-friend. Owen’s left hand was still covered in gauze, though it was less bloody than the stuff he’d had on the night before. His mother had made him change it out, but the wounds still bled a bit, and even the fresh gauze had the dark red stains.

Marsh yelped lightly at Owen’s voice. He had purposefully been looking at the ground and busying himself with the task of picking up pieces. This was a mistake, as it only led to him being startled yet again. Marsh let the shards of porcelain fall back down and stood up quickly. Fear made him extremely responsive to the command, and it also caused him to cautiously back up into the driver side door of his purple car. Shit.Shit.Shit. Panic colored his thoughts as his heart hammered in his chest. Marshall was going to actually die this time, and there was no one around to stop it, or even see it.

Owen watched as Marshall backed away from him as if he were the devil. What a child. “Marshall!” Owen barked, to try and snap him out of it. He realized, though, that it wasn’t going to exactly make things better. The last thing Marshall wanted to hear was Owen’s voice with all that… force behind it. But then again, did it even matter what Marshall wanted? Not really.

“I’m sorry!?” Marshall barked back, his eyes had grown wide. It was an exclamation. It was a question. It was an apology. Marsh was confused. Owen was just… standing there, and yelling at him. Did he want something? Was he… was he going to hit him? Marsh did his best to meet Owen’s gaze, afraid that he was going to see the same look in his eyes that he had seen at the party. But, Owen was one of his best friends, so he couldn’t just… not look. “I’m sorry.”

“You really should be,” Owen said with an undeniable bluntness in his voice. His eyes weren’t angry. The fire in them seemed to have been significantly dulled, and he looked at Marshall almost as if he were gross. No, it seemed that Owen was not going to hit Marshall. Marshall, for now, was safe. “Just let Jamie know that I was serious. I don’t ever want to talk to him again, and if I see him at the gym again. I’ll do more than what I did last time.” Owen spoke in a low whisper, almost frighteningly calm, before he reached out with his injured hand, holding out the object he’d taken out of his car: a packet of the tea that Marshall loved.

“What?” His voice was more calm now, but still a little higher pitched than normal. Perhaps it was the mention of Jamie, that had caught him off guard. Owen knew that Marsh liked him, Owen was the first person to know, actually, besides Marsh himself. But what did Jamie have to do with this? Marshall was distracted from his thoughts by the bandaged hand that was offering him a box of Throat Coat. He gingerly accepted it, somehow managing to feel guilty in doing so. Owen was being nice to him, and he didn’t feel like he deserved that. The last he knew, Owen had wanted to kill him. Now this? “Thanks.”

Marshall’s eyes went from the box of tea, to Owen’s eyes, and then back down to Owen’s hand. The gauze wasn’t a good sign. Marsh had seen that before in the aftermath of one of the Lyon’s rage-filled outbursts. He could very well be hiding broken bones under those wrappings, with how hard he was capable of hitting things. “Are you… okay? Should we go to the nurse?”

Owen froze as Marshall looked at his hand, and seemed to be considering something. Here we go. Owen let Marshall finish, but after he asked about the nurse, Owen’s lips curled up into a scowl, and he shook his head aggressively, the fire seemingly relit. “I don’t need no help. Least of all from you, Sprinkles,” Owen hissed, turning around and adjusting the backpack that hung on his shoulder, stomping off toward the school without a further word.

Ouch. Marsh didn’t know it was possible for a special nickname to hurt that much. Apparently even cute words could cut when they were wielded like a blade. Marshall stood stunned, cradling a box of tea in both hands as if it were precious and fragile, as he watched his best guy friend walk away from him. He was going to fix this too… he had to. Owen might be a cheat, but, maybe Marshall could get past that. Everyone makes mistakes…

You know those self pity parties where you’re home alone because your husband decided to go out with the boys and your daughter is probably having sex with a stranger and your son has ignored you for god who knows how long? Yeah, that was the life of Kylie Lyon at 8 PM. Not even a homemade margarita could make her feel better. On top of that, all her family and friends were actually having lives and her dad could suck it. The solution for her lonesome feelings and seething bitterness over the fact that she made dinner for four but only one person ate it — her — was to watch tv and pamper herself. She was sprawled on the couch with a bunch of curling pins in her gorgeous red hair, her toes had a recently applied green nail polish on and were separated by those foam separators, and her fluffy, white bathrobe covered her pale but fresh, smooth, delectable skin. Her posture was in a slouch, with a large porcelain bowl on her stomach filled to the rim with popcorn as she watched the show that made her famous: Living it up with the Lyons.

Munching passionately on her popcorn, her phone only inches away, her eyes went from the show to her phone constantly. Waiting. Waiting for anyone. Someone. To call or text her. She was soooooo bored. Oh! this was a good part. This was when all the women in her father’s life cornered him. He never thought he’d be in the same room of all the women he slept with in the past, but it sure happened, and the products from such affairs, all his children, bore witness to the scene. Her dad was a fool.

Her mind was ripped away from the scene when she heard a ringtone she hadn’t heard in the longest time. HER SON WAS CALLING HER!!! HE NEEDED HER! She quickly turned her body, causing the bowl of popcorn to tumble over, spilling everywhere, and she grabbed her phone with utmost urgency. With the excitement of a child getting a lollipop from the doctor, she grabbed and answered the phone, all the while turning her body so she was staring at the ceiling. Happily, she cried, “Hi Pumpky!” Pumpkin was calling her and she was so happy he chose tonight of all nights. Her night would turn around, for sure!

Oh man, Owen was about to ruin her fucking life, wasn’t he? He had a streak lately. Trixie, Jamie, now Mama. Might as well keep adding to it. At least he’d swept up most of the glass… “Mom? I fucked up.” Owen said simply, sighing as he looked around at the carnage of the gym. Maybe he should clean up more before he called her? There wasn’t much left, he and Madi had done a pretty good job… but it was embarrassing. He’d destroyed his own sanctuary, for fuck’s sake.

“W-what do you mean?” Kylie sat up and ate a popcorn off her chest. After she munched on some popcorn, she washed it down with her alcoholic beverage.

Owen was quiet for a while, before he spoke aloud, making an offer to his mother. “You wanna FaceTime?”

From saying he fucked up to making an offer she absolutely couldn’t refuse. Was that even a question? Did she WANT to FaceTime? Did SHE his MOTHER want to see HIS face?! “Yes, yes! I’ll call you righttttt now.” With the speed of a cheetah, a phone call turned into a video call. “Hi Pumpky!” She repeated, her face beaming.

Owen gave her a weak smile, “hi, mama.” He said, before clicking away from the face cam and to the rear camera. With a heavy sigh, Owen slowly moved in a circled, showing Kylie what was left of the gym. “I had a moment.”

This felt like deja vu. For a moment, Kylie took in the sight and she couldn’t help but think of the time her husband did the same, when they were young. That poor gym. She thought for a second on how to approach this. It wasn’t hard to know the route she should take. Keeping her voice calm and showing no sign of fear or anger, she serenely asked, “Do you feel better?”

Well, that was certainly better than he’d expected. Owen had expected redhot fury and yelling and anger to come exploding from the other side… he flicked the camera back to his face and looked at his mother silently, considering what she’d said. Did he feel better? “Yes, absolutely. Someone from school that I don’t really like… came and said some mean things. I only hit him once. Well… twice,” Owen paused, before holding up his bandaged, bloody hand. “I hit the wall, too.”

If there was one thing a Lyon had, it was fire. Fire could manifest in many forms. One being anger. When someone in her family got angry, you feared your life. It was only natural for her son to do this, but like his father, there was always a reason. “Did you give him a chance to walk away?” She could imagine he did, but she wanted a better idea of what was bothering him. She had a theory.

“Yes, I tried to get him to leave. I even let him hit me first. I thought that was, uh, the right thing to do.” Owen explained, before he went on to address something that was slightly bothering him by this point. “...hey are you gonna yell at me? ...Is… is dad going to kill me? I broke everything. The office, too. And the desk. I think I lost my mind…” Owen said glumly, shrugging his shoulders. He really needed to… not do that.

“It wouldn’t be the first time that gym gets a repair job.” Kylie nonchalantly shrugged back and watched her boy’s expressions. She missed him. “I’ll come by and help clean up if you’re worried about your father’s reaction. But, we’re rich, Owen. This is an easy fix. Grabbing another popcorn off her couch, she ate it and shook her head at the thought, “You’re so much like him. It’s unbelievable at times.” She brought her attention back to the cam and made a silly face at her gloomy son, “We’ll take care of this, together. Okay?”

Owen nodded a couple of times, seemingly more reassuring himself than his mother. They could take care of this. She was right, they were rich, that was the whole point of being rich, right? To take care of problems fast. Yeah, something like that… “Okay. You should bring me food. I’m hungry, and there’s nothing to eat here except for vending machine crap. When you get here, we’ll, uh, talk. About it. I guess I should tell you now, before you have to get me from the police station.” Owen muttered, sighing before he blew her a kiss. “See you soon.”

Her heart. He blew her a kiss. Kylie was crying on the inside. She had been waiting for this moment since he started distancing himself. She didn’t even know what she did but after the break up, her baby changed and he stopped confiding in her. Breaks up weren’t easy but something in her gut told her it was most definitely heart wrenching. A tragic ending for someone who only deserved happiness. Joy didn’t tell her details either, but she also chose not to pry. She didn’t want to push him away more than he already was pushing himself away from her. She wanted to know answers but she wanted to know them from him. What happened to her son? What could she do to make him better? With watery eyes, she nodded with all the assurance in the world, “Yeah. See you soon, Pumpkin. I love you.” With that, the call ended.

Still with curling pins in her hair, but now with yoga pants on and a sweatshirt — nothing necessarily on underneath it — Mama Kylie made it to the gym in ten minutes tops. Her mother instincts were at maximum speed and she was ready to save the day! For once, she wasn’t the damsel. She had packed most of the leftovers that were left over from dinner in one of Troy’s cooler bag lunch boxes and then she went to the guest house and demanded her maid to drive her.

Because she had drank alcohol.

Not a lot, but if Troy found out she drove while being inhibited even in the slightest, she would get in trouble, more so than Owen. Entering through the front entrance, which no longer had a door, since all the glass was completely gone, she made her presence known, “I have dinner!” Stopping in her tracks, she was stunned with how much the gym was destroyed but not because of the destruction. No, because of how much was done in such a short time! She wouldn’t be able to do this amount of damage even if she tried.

“Hi, mom.” Owen said, and when Kylie put her eyes on her son, she would click even more similarities between father and son. Just like Troy had done when he was younger, Owen was laying on the ropes of the ring, in the corner, and staring at the ceiling. It didn’t last much longer after she’d arrived, though, because he rolled off and jumped out of the ring, heading over to her.

“What’s for dinner?” He asked, eyeing the cooler in her hands. Food was good, food was fuel. And honestly? Owen was tired. He’d had a long day, and a longer weekend and it was only going to get worse from here…

“Not because I cook this two to three times a week… but it’s your favorite.” Troy was honestly getting sick of homemade mac and cheese with bacon in it, and nice, crispy cheese on layered over it, but Kylie was hoping for a night like this! And her boy called her on one of the nights she made his favorite. She was on her boss game. Tonight couldn’t be any more perfect. Directing him to follow her, she went to the office and made his placement on the table by the futon, across from the desk. She even brought cherry sprite! Also, his favorite. After everything was set for him to have a delicious, mama approved dinner, as if he were eating at the dinner table with his sister, her, and his father, she sat down and rested her hands on her lap. Waiting patiently.

Owen followed her back into the office, where he spent most of his time nowadays. Owen sat down at the spot that was made up for him, and picked up the silverware she’d brought… and then, it was almost comical how fast and ravenously Owen ate the food laid out in front of him. After a few minutes of scarfing down food, he paused to explain himself. “Haven’t been eatin’ very good really. Can’t cook here, and I hate fast food. And I have nowhere to go anymore. Mostly been eating TV dinners.” He explained, pointing at the minifridge in the office. Another similarity to his father.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He added, before slurping down some of the cherry sprite and going back to demolishing the platter of mac n cheese he’d been delivered.

Kylie’s heart was on cloud nine. Just watching her baby eating good food, her food, made her ecstatic. But, she had to focus. This could lead to him opening up to her. Going back to the time when he told her everything! “I’m just a phone call away.” Kylie’s expression was nothing but hopeful. “You’re welcome, by the way.” She grabbed the napkin off the table and gestured for him to grab it. He had a little mess on the side of his face.

Owen grabbed it and wiped off his face, and pushed the plate away, satisfied with his work as far as ‘eating everything’ went. Then he looked up at his mom, very seriously. “I’m gonna tell you things now, but you can’t get too involved. I have to fix this myself.” Owen insisted, before opening the sprite and drinking what was left in the bottle.

Making an ‘x’ on her heart, Kylie smiled, “We got to do the thing.” By thing she meant them linking their pinkies together and then kissing their hands. That was their pinky promise that assured both parties nothing would leave this gym. Owen nodded, and held out his pinky, ready to do the thing. Good, this would seal the deal so he could talk about everything without worrying that she’d get herself and her friends involved.

Emergawd. He did it. Kylie’s face was flushing. This was the best day of her life. Gaining her composure, though her outer self was pretty calm, everything that she was feeling was sealed tight in her nicely formed body, she gave him a look that said ‘I’m ready’. She didn’t need to say anything more. He had the floor.

Alright, here we go. Now or never. Do or die. “Okay. So, you know that Trixie and I broke up, but you don’t know how or why. So, let’s go, I guess.” Owen let out a loud, almost reluctant noise through his mouth, before he tapped around on his phone, navigating to the website of the school newspaper, and pulled up the Cowardly Lyon article, before handing it over to his mother.

Le gasp from Kylie.

“Someone convinced Trixie that I cheated on her. I dunno how, or why, but I have an idea of who. I think it was Ophelia. OBVIOUSLY, I didn’t cheat on Trixie. But, she got those pictures of me and Rose, yes, that’s Rose, and then she lost her mind and went ballistic and published that article. Ophelia is the only person I know who could have been there to take the pictures.” Owen shrugged, but he wasn’t done talking yet.

Another gasp.

“So, anyway. That happened. Everybody read that, and now they think I have a small dick, I’m a woman beater, I have mommy attachment issues, anger issues, and that I’m a serial cheater. Oh, and as of Friday night, you can add ‘homophobe’ to that list, since I kinda sorta almost killed Marshall.” Owen frowned and leaned forward, furrowing his brow. “So nobody really talked to me. To get my side of things? So everyone just took it at face value. Trixie hasn’t talked to me alone since the publish date. Marshall hates me. They all hate me. It hurts. It sucks. I’m alone. I’m fighting against impossible odds, honestly. Damian, Trevor, Henry… They gave me a chance to talk. Becca too, but of course Becca did — she’s a Helmsley, and I’m family. But it doesn’t matter. I just want Trixie to know that I didn’t do that to her. I think that’s basically all of it? So today, Jamie, you know Jamie right? One of Trixie’s news slaves. He came here to try and get me to talk about the breakup, so that I could tell him this. So he could use it for a story.”

Owen paused briefly again. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m not you and I will not let my personal drama be something that other people look at for amusement.”

“Ouch, baby.” Kylie crossed her arms and looked at her son with a contemplative stare. She was taking it all in. It was a lot to take in. “I’m curious. As messy as this all is, and yes everyone is reacting… vibrantly, I’m proud you are level headed throughout this all. Shows how well I did on raising you. I’m curious, though. Why do you think Jamie approached you? He could’ve done that two months ago. He could’ve done that a month ago. Why now? Why does he care now about the truth?” There was something Kylie caught in her son’s words that his son didn’t necessarily catch.

“Because he's desperate? I don't know. I busted him in the fucking head, and told him if he came back I'd snap his neck. So I'm happy to report that there will be no more Callaghans intermingling with the Lyons.” Owen explained, running a hand through his hair. This entire situation was exhausting for him, and he wasn't sure about bringing his mother in yet. Hopefully, she'd respect his wishes, and not involve his ex’s parents.

Rolling her eyes at her son’s response, Kylie retorted, repeating his words, “One of Trixie’s news slaves.” She let that settle in before continuing, “If she is anything like her mother, she needs a cool down period. You’re lucky you haven’t made Trixie resort to a bat, but an article is still pretty shitty. It’s hard, finding a moment of peace, when you’re that popular. I would know, I was always with my girls. But her girls are not just friends, they’re family. Two months is a pretty short time for her… heart to demand air. I don’t think Jamie actually cares about the story. As a celebrity, you learn that those type of individuals, reporters, are always after the reward. Someone wants to know the truth, I just don’t think it’s him. He’s just the one getting his hands dirty.” She’ll thank her dad later for his teachings. If it wasn’t for his stories, she wouldn’t be this observant. Everyone had a motive, even if the motive was seemingly nothing. Nothing was still something. Keeping their life as is. From her baby’s story, it seems like everyone was tired of being stagnant.

Owen had to consider what she'd said. Some if it made sense, sure. What was that about a bat, though? Not really relevant, but hey, that was how his mother was sometimes.. a littttllleee bit squirrel brained. “Maybe you have a point… But if Trixie wants to know the truth, why doesn't she ask me? Why doesn't anyone ask me?”

“You can’t say no one asked you, when Jamie did. Today.” She paused and shifted her body toward him. “It’s different, when you’re a girl. Girls think of the bigger picture and we think of every single detail. Guys are a bit more simple even if girls still want to expect more out of them. They either like it or don’t. When you say yes, you mean yes, and when you say no, you mean no. Girls are either at war with each other or protecting each other. Why doesn’t Trixie approach you? Imagine Scott approaching you and saying Trixie has been fucking Henry and had pictures to show for it. How would that make you feel? I know it hurts that she didn’t take your side. But in a girl’s mind, she naturally thinks her girls have her back. And you want to know why no one else asks you? You scare them. When people want to talk to you, you push them away. You don’t want to answer them. You believe they should’ve trusted you from the beginning and it fucking hurts. That no one took your side. I understand baby. I just think, Trixie doesn’t know who to believe. Do you think she doesn’t care about you anymore?” Because if that were the case, she’d be a lot colder to him. She has Izzy in her. Izzy wasn’t afraid to cut people out of her life. Not until she cared.

“That is exactly what I think. I'd argue that I know it, not think it.” Owen said in a simple reply. She was laying a lot on him, wasn't she? He was tired, way too tired for this. And he didn't want to sleep in the fucking office again. He wanted his bed (which would feel empty without Trix), and his house. He hadn't been there in almost two months, and he missed it. He hadn't really realized how much, exactly. “... I want to go home and sleep on this, Mama. Can you just call grandpa or one of the grandmas and make this fix this?” He asked, gesturing at the gym’s destruction.

There was only one person who could fix this properly, along with his brothers. Her father. “I guess it’s time to bury the hatchet…” Her words shifted into a grumble. “Let’s go home and you get some sleep. I’ll get this fix.”

Sav stepped back into homeroom triumphant after her successful interview with Damian. This was redemption; She had taken Riley’s harsh constructive criticism and acted on it, making changes that would really improve her writing. Maybe her future career as a journalist wasn’t just a pipe dream!

With a giddy smile, Savvy made her way towards her usual seat in the back of the classroom, eager to formulate the conversation that just took place into complete and eloquent sentences. Pulling out her laptop almost immediately, she furiously began typing, wanting to remember not only what the ex-captain had said, but also note his facial expressions, mannerisms, etc. Savannah wanted the reader to feel as though they were the one speaking with Damian, which meant she had a lot of heavy lifting to do on her end.

Upon entering the homeroom, Trevor scanned the sea of faces present in the room. He was a social boy, both charismatic and popular, and he could truly sit next to just about anyone this room and manage to carry on a conversation. The obvious choice would be to sit next to his best friend Damian, but given that Damian would practically be living at his house this week (and possibly longer), it might be nice to spice it up and sit next to someone else for a change. A flash of red hair visible above a laptop screen made the decision of who to sit next to instead all the more easy.

Was Trevor nervous? Absolutely. He didn’t think there would ever be a time that he could look at Savannah and not be consumed by a stomach full of anxiety-inducing butterflies, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. That being said, she’d already agreed to go on at least one date with him, so he wasn’t as nervous as was around her a few days ago. Trev just had to make sure that he didn’t say anything to mess it up. Setting his single shoulder strap backpack down on the ground, Trevor sat beside Savannah. “Hey,” he greeted the busily working girl with a smile, his lip looked a little less gruesome than it did yesterday, more bruised than bloodied.

Savannah noticed out of the corner of her eye a certain redhead approaching, and as he did, she pumped herself up in her head. She wanted to impress Trevor so badly, but in order to not make an idiot of herself, she opted to just act casual and calm in his presence. “Hi, Trev—” Savvy started to speak with a genuine smile, but her train of thought and line of speech was interrupted when she looked up and noticed his clearly visible injuries from yesterday’s scuffle.

“Oh my god, your lip.” She breathed out, her hand instinctively moving towards his face to touch the wound. Realizing her habitual actions, she quickly drew her hand back. So much for being calm and casual. “Are you okay?” Sav asked, a concerned and worried look forming on her face.

“Heh, yeah…” Trev responded with a light laugh and looked down, feeling his cheeks heat up. “It’s fine, Riley and my dad made sure of that last night. Just so you know, I normally don’t… do stuff like that. What happened at practice, I mean.”

Savannah sighed, tucking a piece of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear. “Okay, just as long as you’re fine.” She replied, wondering how his brother reacted to the incident; after all, she did tell him beforehand. In regards to the issue at practice not being a usual habit of his, Sav smirked. She would never think of Trevor as someone to get into the middle of a fight — which was what made the situation all the more surprising. “No, don’t worry, I know you’re not usually like that. I don’t know what exactly went down, but hopefully it won’t happen again. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” She said the last part without thinking, but didn’t regret saying it in the slightest.

“It won’t happen again, not if I can help it.” Trevor smiled honestly at her. He noticed the word document open on her computer. He wasn’t looking closely or anything, but it was noticeable enough out of the corner of his eye. “Are you working on a paper? Or just writing?”

Savvy smiled, looking into Trevor’s gorgeous eyes — maybe for a couple seconds too long. Darting her own eyes back to her laptop, she had to think for a second about what she was working on. “It’s my piece for the paper; the one I interviewed you for yesterday. I just was talking to Damian about it, and I got some more things to add in.” She turned the laptop in his direction so he could take a closer look if he so desired. “Hopefully it’ll be good enough for Trixie’s liking.”

“Oh, you talked to Damian too? That’s great!” The male ginger leaned closer to read the screen. It definitely wasn’t just to read the screen, he was leaning closer purely because he had a good excuse to lean closer. It was then that Trevor realized that Savannah didn’t just look pretty, she smelled pretty too. Like flowers, like walking through a whole garden full of them. He managed to scan the words that she had written so far and nodded with a genuine smile. “It looks really good. I’m awful at writing, so I’m pretty darned impressed.”

Trevor grinned and chuckled slightly. The grin faded when he remembered what Riley had told him in the treehouse. “That reminds me, Riley mentioned talking to you yesterday?”

She blushed, her cheeks turning their signature reddish tint. Man, this guy knew exactly what to say to make her all flustered. Savvy closed the laptop slightly, mostly so she could get a better look at Trevor. “Yeah, after I left your practice I went over to that cute little bakery, Heartfelt Bites, to work on the article. Riley walked in and we started chatting, it was nice!” She replied, recalling their conversation as well as the chocolate eclair she had eaten. Talk about delicious!

“Oh! Good! … Riley mentioned that he might have critiqued you a little harshly…” Trevor recalled the conversation, and the sheepish look on Riley’s face when he had admitted it. “He had a pretty lousy day yesterday, so if he was harsh, that’s probably why. I think he feels bad about whatever he said, since he told me and all. So, consider this like an almost apology from him, even if you seem okay about it.”

“Yeah he was a little… direct — but that’s okay, it’s what I needed.” Savannah replied, reassuring Trevor. “If I’m going to be a real writer someday, I need to learn how to take constructive criticism, so he shouldn’t feel bad at all.” She gave him a smile to show that she was indeed alright and that a couple of choice words about her writing wasn’t going to phase her.

“He can be a little too direct sometimes.” Trevor agreed and kept scanning the document. He stole a few glances at her in between sentences and kept grinning like some kind of lovesick idiot. In a way, he was. “It looks like it did help you out, though, Damian’s perspective is nice addition. Do you plan on interviewing anyone else on the team?” His thoughts immediately jumped to the idea of her interviewing Jacob, and that made his hairs damn near stand on end. He wouldn’t like that, hopefully she’d saw enough of him yesterday to know better.

Savannah shyly looked towards the ground and then back up at Trevor. “No, I think I have all the information I want — I don’t think it’s necessary to make anyone else suffer through an interview with me.” She laughed, recalling some of Damian’s facial expressions when she spoke to him earlier; he didn’t seem to enjoy her difficult questions regarding his suspension.

Trevor looked relieved at her response before he shook his head at her. Suffer? Was she crazy? Damian might have been uncomfortable given the situation, but it wasn’t Savannah that made him feel that way, surely. “It wasn’t suffering, it was the furthest thing from it. Damian might have felt a certain way, but you can’t really blame him there. I’m sure it wasn’t you.” Trev smiled and sat back against the chair. He couldn’t smell her perfume as much from back here, which was lame, but he didn’t have a legitimate reason to be leaning in all close to her anymore. Such was life. “When is your article due?”

“We’re aiming for Thursday — just so we can get it out before the first game of the season.” Savvy replied, realizing that the deadline was only a mere two days from now. Hopefully, she could pull this piece together, enough so that it would not only impress Trixie, but also the redhead seated next to her. “I’m crossing my fingers that I can get it done in time.” She stated honestly, unsure if it would truly happen or not.

“Sounds stressful, I wish you the best.” Trev looked suddenly shy as cheeks flsuhed pink. “If you need some kind of distraction, let me know. We don’t have to wait until Friday to go out.” Oh wow, he couldn’t believe he just said that. Damian would be so proud of his boy, he’d have to tell him!

Savannah smiled widely — did he just ask her on another date? Before they even went on the first one? She tried her hardest not to show her excitement, but some of it definitely came through in her words. “A distraction would be nice…” She replied, rosy cheeks and all.

Maybe he was actually good at this! He was certainly doing better than he thought he would. She wanted to do something… something… but what? Trevor hadn’t planned this far ahead, he was just going with the flow. He remembered seeing the flyers around school this morning about the boat party tonight. That was a good segue. “Were you planning on going to the party tonight?”

“The one that all the flyers are for? The Helmsley’s, I think it was?” Savannah let her eyes glance down to her bag where one of the flyers sat. She had been thinking of going, but wasn’t too sure, as she didn’t know if Josie would be there or not. “Yeah, I was thinking about it, sounds like it’ll be fun.”

“It definitely will be, the Helmsley’s are made of money. It’ll make the bash the boys and I threw look like preschool. I could be your ride there, and we could do something beforehand, just you and me? If you want to…” Trevor looked a little apprehensive at that. He hoped she might want to, and that he wasn’t being weird in the way that he asked. This was all very unfamiliar territory.

Savvy replied all too eagerly, “Yes,” She quickly said, but paused after realizing how fast she had replied. Taking a deep breath before she continued, Savannah smiled wider than before. “I’d really like that.” She stated, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

“Great!” Trevor beamed giddily, clearly proud of himself for getting this far. He quickly scanned his mind for things that they could do. He didn’t know anything about her hobbies or preferences, aside from writing, so he went with a suggestion that he would like. “Do you like ice cream? It’s one of my favorite foods, even if it’s a cheat snack.” Trev wasn’t very good at watching his diet, truth be told, and having Remy as a father didn’t help with that. The amount of time he spent in the gym and on sports teams made up for his atrocious eating habits, though.

“Ice cream sounds perfect.” Savvy replied, thrilled that she’d get to hang out with Trevor today and Friday. She hadn’t been awake for more than two hours and she was already having an incredible day. “I’ve got a killer sweet tooth.” She admitted, a small laugh escaping from her lips.

“Mee tooo.” Trev agreed with a laugh. “I usually go this place called Creamistry. Hmm… when does the party start?”

Savannah took a look down at the flyer. “Starts at 8:00, boat leaves at 8:45 sharp…” She replied, reading off the paper and then looking back up at Trevor. “Would hate to be the person who shows up at 8:46.” She mused with a laugh.

“Yeah, totally. They’re punctual people, so that’s a serious deadline.” He chuckled and flashed an award winning smile at her. “How about I pick you up at 7 then?”

Sav nearly fainted right then and there when he smiled at her, but somehow managed to keep her composure. The way this boy made her feel just by looking at her was unlike anything she had experienced before. “7:00 it is.”

Still clutching the box of tea in his hands as if it were the most precious gift ever received, Marshall made his way to his locker. He was thoroughly and completely shook by the entire encounter with Owen that had occured just moments ago. The bloody gauze, his own fear, Owen’s look of disgust, and the fact that Owen just so happened to have a box of his favorite tea on his person, or at least in his car. What did that mean? Were they still friends? Enemies? Something else? Marshall wanted them to still be friends, he missed Owen terribly, and he was going to do his best to fix this.

One step at a time, though. Apparently, Marshall had become quite good at making messes lately, and it would probably be best to try to clean them up one at a time, rather than just swinging a broom around blindly and attempting to get it all in one sweep. He was gonna fix things with Jamie first, as he had already made inebriated plans to do so. And then Owen. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Marshall pulled out his phone to text his not-so hidden crush.

To: Jamie
meet me by my locker?

Marshall tapped the send button and immediately his stomach dropped. Oh shit. This was actually happening now. The Owen situation had been an unexpected distraction, but now he had just texted Jamie, and that meant that he would probably be coming soon. Their homeroom class was only just around the corner. Marshall spun the combination lock and opened his locker, at top speed, so that he could check his reflection. Gazing into the mirror, he messed with his hair until it looked as perfect as it possibly could.

Jamie felt his stomach lurch as his phone buzzed in his pocket, the tell tale sign of a new message. He fished the device from his pocket and swiped it open, examining the message from Marshall. Sighing, he stood up and left the classroom, weaving through the stream of his fellow students, nervously tapping out a beat on his leg.

He saw Marshall, looking into his mirror, messing with his hair. He couldn’t help the smirk that broke out across his face at the sight, a smirk that he quickly erased. Steeling himself, he walked over to the boy, biting his lip as the anxiety threatened to punch a hole straight through his chest. “Uh...hey,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly all too aware of his black eye, and every other imperfection he’d ever noticed on himself.

Marsh startled at Jamie’s voice. Embarrassed at having been caught amidst his coiffing, his cheeks grew warm. Despite that, he put on the the most stunning smile that he could muster before closing his locker to face the other boy. “Hi~” he greeted, still beaming.

Wait. Jamie’s face! Marshall’s smile quickly fell away, morphing into a look that closely resembled that of maternal concern. What happened to his eye? Without thought or reservation, Marshall stepped closer to him. Did Jamie get in fights? Marsh couldn’t recall that ever happening before. Jamie was a journalist, he certainly wasn’t a scrapper. Scrapping was Owen’s thing. Double wait. Owen… Marshall’s earlier conversation with the fighter played back in his mind at that moment. ‘... if I see him at the gym again. I’ll do more than what I did last time.’

“Oh my god!” Marshall gasped, his right hand dramatically flying up to his mouth in shock. Oh god, this was his fault! Owen did this because of him. Jamie was hurt because of him. There was no other explanation, at least not in Marshall’s mind. He was responsible for this.

Closing the distance between them, Marsh reached up towards Jamie’s cheek. With a touch softer than butterfly wings, Marshall’s fingertips barely grazed the skin just below Jamie’s injured eye. It was a far more intimate gesture than was likely appropriate, given the status of their relationship, but it was genuine. “Oh honey, what happened? What were you doing? What… what did you say to him?” He asked the questions in rapid succession, his eyes frantically scanning Jamie’s face for any other damage.

Jamie’s immediate instinct was to pull back, shying away from Marsh’s touch. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to people stroking his face, not since… well, not since AJ. His face grew warm at Marshall’s concern. God, this was embarrassing, showing up looking like he couldn’t hold his own in a fight.

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it,” Jamie said, suddenly taking an interest in his shoes. Looking back up, he met Marshall’s gaze, his face returning to it’s normal complexion. “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk,” he said, cutting straight to the point.

Marshall frowned when Jamie flinched away. He pulled his hand back to his chest and looked relatively ashamed. “... Sorry,” he apologized softly. When Jamie mentioned that it was nothing to worry about, Marsh disregarded that entirely. It was too late for that, he was already worried, and he planned to continue to worry until he smoothed things over with Owen. “Just keep your distance from Owen for a while, okay? He… he told me to tell you not to show up at the gym again, or it’d be worse. And I know I can’t tell you to do anything… but… please don’t go back?

The darker-haired boy chewed at his lip when Jamie wanted to switch the subject. Marshall didn’t blame him, he didn’t like how widely broadcasted his own encounter with Owen had been either. He understood not wanting to be seen as weak, and respected the desire to changes topics. “Right… I wanted to talk about what happened, at the party. Rather, what didn’t happen at the party. You ran off before I could explain it, so, please don’t run away this time. Okay?”

Jamie ran a hand through his sandy hair, sighing. Marshall’s words implied that maybe, just maybe, this conversation might have a happy ending. “Okay, I will try my best to stay right here,” Jamie said, smirking as he let his hair fall back down over his forehead.

The hand in his hair, his words, the smirk, the hair again. Cute, oh my god, he’s so cute. Marshall felt himself being distracted from his original goal in this conversation. Focus, Marshall, focus and you’ve got this. “Good,” he said, returning the smirk. Now what? All of this time to prepare, and Marshall hadn’t even rehearsed his lines. This wasn’t acting, it was real life, and that made it hard as fuck to talk about. “Uhm, so… well. I kind of… needed a moment? A moment to myself. After Owen.”

It was Marshall’s turn to awkwardly run his hand through his hair. He wasn’t about to admit to Jamie that he was crying in the closet. That would be mortifying. Still, he had to clear his name somehow. “I went in that closet alone, I didn’t want or ask anyone to come in with me. It was just bad timing that someone else did. Nothing happened.”

Jamie nodded, chewing his lip nervously.

Nothing may have happened in the closet, but something definitely happened in the hallway. In front of all who were rushing to homeroom. If these two boys weren’t so enthralled with one another, they, or at least Marshall, would’ve noticed their classmate, same year and all, striding down the hall, with the the morning light streaming behind him from the side doors that were propped open. He had a swagger that was out of this world. He knew he was the shit, and if you didn’t know he was the shit, you would soon find out that he was the shit. The light caused a halo effect around his head, and made his shampooed, chocolate hair stand out. One of his best features. How do you define this guy? Classy clothes, classy watch, classy ‘tude.

Bold.

Without any hesitation, AJ Tyler, the notorious jock who did whatever the fuck he wanted, when he wanted, slid in front of the drama kid, making sure Marshall had a good sight of who was getting in between him and AJ’s ex-lover, and in one fluid motion, not even saying any words, he pulled Jamie into a kiss. Making sure his hand was in his ex-lover’s hair. The kiss was rough, long, and passionate. Seduction was child’s play in AJ’s world. The resistance would crumble once their lips joined. Whether Jamie wanted to admit it or not, he still had feelings for him, and AJ wasn’t going to stop until he had no other choice. Take it all in, babe.

Freeing Jamie from his grasp, AJ teasingly licked his lips, taking in the saliva left behind, before chuckling, “How’s my Wonder Boy doing?” Did Jamie break things off with him months ago? Absolutely. Was he going to stop with his advances? Not until Jamie showed signs he truly, deeply didn’t want him. AJ turned on his heel to acknowledge Marshall, “Oh, hey dude, how’s it going? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.” If he did, he didn’t care.

Shattered. Marshall looked on, wide-eyed, as Jamie’s gorgeous ex-boyfriend stepped in between them and full on kissed Jamie Callaghan. Marsh’s heart was in shattered pieces, and surely shards of it would move through his bloodstream and kill him right where he stood. God, he hoped so, he’d rather be dead than be standing here right now. Everything had been going so well, too! They were finally going to talk it out and have a storybook happily ever after love story. Except for that was never going to be the case, because Marshall was an idiot, and he had misread everything. Here he was, trying to apologise to his crush about a boy that he didn’t even kiss because he thought that he was offended by the thought that Marshall might have kissed someone else. He felt like a complete fool, because obviously Jamie and AJ weren’t broken up, so Jamie didn’t even care. The evidence was right there in his face, in the form of Jamie’s devastatingly pretty, post-make out mussed hair.

“I —” Marshall began, and then paused. “It’s —” He looked from AJ to Jamie now. “Nevermind. I’ve clearly misread… many things. I’ve gotta go, yeah.” It was impressive that he managed to get all of that out without his voice cracking. He had felt the emotion clawing up his throat, attempting to choke off his words. Marshall turned on his heels then, and left the two lovers alone in the hallway. He wasn’t heading towards homeroom, though. To them it wouldn’t be clear where he was heading, but for him, it was to the safest and first place he could think to go; The music and theater wing. It had lovely soundproof practice rooms, where he could go and have himself a right and proper freak out without anyone but himself being wise to it. He would not show up in homeroom, and possibly not even to first period. The next time someone would hear from Marshall Radley, it would be through a text to Ophelia, not to the whole Candy group chat, just to his bestie.

To: Feels
u might wanna change my line from blue to black

Meanwhile, back at the site of the kiss, Jamie was livid. And confused. And livid. Very, very, livid. He took a step back from AJ, his ex boyfriend and maybe the most complicated relationship he had at the moment, although his and Marshall’s was becoming a close second. He’d broken up with AJ months ago, but that hadn’t exactly killed the physical aspect of their relationship, not that Jamie hadn’t tried. There was just...an allure to AJ that kept bringing Jamie back. And this had been the worst time to go back.

“AJ! Are you insane! I was— Marshall and I were...oh my fuck, this is so like you!” Jamie shouted, not a care in the world for the surrounding witnesses. He ran a hand through his sandy locks, his exasperation evident as he closed his eyes, struggling to regain his composure. AJ had just kissed him. And he’d kissed him back. And Marshall had seen. And why did everything bad always happen to him? “This, this, this thing we have going? It’s done, AJ,” Jamie shouted, storming off, his legs carrying him far away from AJ and Marshall and every other ailment this school brought upon him.

At first, Jamie’s reaction amused AJ, but then watching him say ‘it’s done’ again and walk away from him again... that caused the jock’s fist to ball up. He looked around at all the witnesses and then let his smirk mask his feelings in the moment, “Enjoyed the show? I hope you took pictures.” He winked at a girl, who had her phone’s camera aimed at him. She had started recording the moment AJ grabbed ahold of Jamie. After that devilish gesture, he turned on his heel and strolled down the hall, seemingly unbothered. Under his breath, he told himself, “You’ll come back. You always do.”

Bailee had been parading through the hallways, throwing flyers at everything that had a pulse and breathed, when she stumbled across quite the sight: Marshall Radley and Jamie Callaghan canoodling by the lockers near Winship’s room. Now, she may had been gone for nearly six months, but she knew that said certain blonde had dumped her longtime family friend, a one AJ Tyler, and left him in the dust. However, she didn’t hold that against him and thought it was nice to see him moving onto someone new.

Or so she thought.

All of a sudden a certain casanova swooped in and ruined the moment, causing one boy to run off in distress, and the other to begin screaming and yelling in anger and frustration. It seemed disaster seemed to follow wherever AJ went. Once both boys had vanished, the brunette stormed over to the offending party, visibly unhappy with his choices. “What the hell was that?” Bailee seethed, not even bothering for the stereotypical happy reunion with her friend, as this was the first time she had seen him in many, many, months.

AJ was taken aback with the sight of his lovely homegirl and her irritated demeanor. He knew the Helmsley triplets were back since the moment they landed, thanks to his bro, Brian, but he hadn’t seen any of them until this very moment. He had the honor of reuniting with the ‘sweetheart’ of the batch first. Was she actually a sweetheart? Depends on the season. Her reasons. And definitely never during his lifetime. If looks could kill, he’d be dead on the spot. On numerous occasions. But not because she had a bite that matched her bark, nah man. Bailee, and all the Helmsley Three for that matter, were bangin’ hot. She was bangin’ hot. He was surprised no one decided to tap that and make her theirs. Well, one of the reasons could be no one was up to par with her standards, and the other? They were too scared to approach her. For a tiny girl, she knew how to make big people cower. AJ, not so much.

The dynamic between the two was almost hysterical. While she reprimanded him for his ways, he couldn’t be anymore happier to see her. His lips rose into the dumbest, cheesiest grin any human being could ever make. “Bailsssssssssssssssss. Where the hell did you come from?” As bold as he was with Jamie, he pulled his friend into a bear hug. “How long has it been, a century?” It wasn’t like he was intentionally dodging her question, she was just too cute not to hug. Oh, and now he could see her cute butt.

Bailee, on the other hand, was not enthused in the slightest. Remaining stiff as a board in AJ’s strong embrace, she somehow managed to squirm out of his grasp and continued to give him the coldest look she could manage. Especially since she was not a ‘hugger’ by any means, the brunette was not pleased. At all. “Don’t you ‘Bails’ me, Alfie.” She replied, intentionally using his first name, which she knew he absolutely hated, in order to level the playing field. “Save the pleasantries for someone else, now tell me what the fuck I just saw.”

This bitch. Did she fucking call him Alfie? The happy face that once was written all over AJ, was now red with suppressed rage. With gritted teeth, holding his tongue for a moment to really digest what his childhood friend did, his form began to hunch, exuding spite and malice. Did he need to remind her who the fuck she was talking to? Regardless of their history together, there was one line in AJ’s book no one crossed and that was calling him by that name. Any other form of attack, he’d be more civil, but in this instant, Bailee Helmsley set AJ Tyler off. Making sure their eyes were locked, the boy clenched his right fist so hard that his knuckles started turning white. The halls oddly enough were now empty. They should be in homeroom now.

One final door had closed shut, the door closest to them, before AJ slammed his fist onto the closet locker to them both, inches away from her face. The slamming sound echoed throughout the hall. “Are you fucking high? You got to be the stupidest out of your siblings. Aren’t you supposed to take over daddy’s company? Neither Becca or Brian would be this fucking dumb. Do you think this is a joke? Do you think I’m a fucking joke!?” His words were loud, seething with poison, and threatening. If it weren’t for their already established bond, he might’ve snapped worse.

Although AJ normally was the lighthearted one of the group, when he got serious, he meant it. “How much do I amuse you, Bailee? How bad do you want to laugh at me? Like a clown.” To say Bailee set her friend off was an understatement. He leaned in closer to her, making sure she had a good look at his face, his arguably hurt eyes never letting go of her stare, “Then laugh, bitch.” Actually, this was the first time in Bailee’s life to use this card. She heard stories but never did she witness how AJ got. Truth be told, this wasn’t even how bad he got. There were three things you didn’t do as a friend of AJ’s. Use his first name, talk bad about his mama, or act like you have any authority over him. When AJ was loyal to you, that’s all he asked. There are ways to get him to do stuff for you, like tell you what had transpired moments ago in the hall with his ex, this was not one of those ways.

He waited.

He wanted her to laugh.

Bailee was quite a patient person in practice. She dealt with difficult people everyday at Helmsley Enterprises with the grace and poise of someone twice her age. The girl never managed to show any truly negative emotions towards clients and business partners alike. She was constructive, sure, but she never was outwardly demeaning or crude. But in that very moment, Bailee was shocked to find out that there was an end to her patience. And his name was AJ Tyler.

She tried her best not to flinch as his hand collided with the metal merely inches from her cheek, and swallowed her words through his fiery rant, but the way he spoke about her drew the line. Bailee could feel the anger swelling inside of her, and losing her cool was not something she did quite often. So much so that her next actions even shocked her.

Bailee slapped him.

Hard.

“Don’t you ever speak to me that way. I am smarter than you will ever be, and if you have a problem with that, you can tell it to my billion dollar company.” She could feel her face growing red as she berated the boy in front of her. “You need to step the fuck back. God, it is so hard to try to help you when you’re hurting other people.” She spoke in a low voice fueled with rage. She only wanted the best for him, and he made it so much more difficult to care. “What is wrong with you, AJ.”

Bailee breathed out in disbelief appalled at her childhood friend. Feeling the panic bubbling up inside of her, she tried to keep the floodgates of her anxieties from crashing in. Ignoring the bout of anger, Bailee said what she initially wished to say when she first walked over. “He dumped you, it’s over, move on.”

AJ was silent. Silent for an uneasy amount of time. He didn’t touch his cheek which had her print engraved on it, like a mark of shame, but would soon fade in time. Was he ashamed of anything he did? No. Was he even upset she slapped him? No. What he did care about was the fact that someone he’s missed, a fuck ton, greeted him with disrespect. His main friends were always gone, the Helmsley three, her, in particular, on her business trips, and Cece, the biggest goddamn tourist known to date. So that left him bothering Damian a lot to entertain him with video games. That wouldn’t be the case anymore because now his boy was preoccupied with his own Joy.

The slap, however, did help him gain himself again. He turned to face her, his eyes were narrowed, cold, hard, distant. AJ always had this customary warmth about him, but when he was upset, when someone offended his sensibilities, he was different. Unusually different.

Detached and with no trace of kindness, he flatly quipped, “When you know how it feels, then you can come talk to me. But you don’t. You don’t know how it feels to be led on. To still have a chance. To still see that he cares. How could you? The only risks you’re willing to take involves ‘your billion dollar company’.” AJ was over this. He needed to go for a drive.

Not waiting for her to give an uncaring remark, tired from her words that did cut deeply into the jock’s heart, he dismissed himself, “You’re late.” And he walked past her, his shoulder gently skimming against her arm’s skin, “If you need a ride tonight, you have my number.” And with that, he was gone.

Bailee could still feel her fingers tingling from the harsh skin to skin contact, her heartbeat loud and ringing in her ears. What a warm welcome back to school this was, getting into a fight within her second hour of being on campus. The brunette never openly showed her anger, especially to those whom she loved, so never in a million years did Bailee think she would slap her best friend. Pent up rage was a bitch, and now that is was gone, she was left feeling drained, exhausted, and running on empty.

His cold words reverberated through her head and played on repeat as he stormed off. You don’t know how it feels. You’re late. She knew he meant she was late for class, but the words took on a whole other meaning.

The fact of the matter was that Bailee was late. Six months late, in fact.

She wasn’t there when AJ needed her most; she was never there when it counted. The girl couldn’t even relate to him, getting dumped was something she’d never experienced, hell, she’d never even been in a relationship. The boy felt so distant from her, which made the situation all the more painful.

Bailee stood by the lockers for a minute or two after AJ left, absolutely dumbfounded and not knowing what to do with herself. Somewhat gaining a sliver of her composure back, she turned around and walked away. Where? She didn’t know, but she knew two things for sure.

One. She felt incredibly guilty. Two. She was certainly going to drink tonight.

Hailey Green-Locke was in a particularly good mood. It was, most probably, the sex. Getting laid helped ease all minds, even one as devilishly evil as her own. Plus, not only had they had sex, Hailey had obtained herself a girlfriend. And a beautiful one at that! She couldn’t wait to show her off; to her parents, to her friends, to the whole school. Hana was great. As such, Hailey had made her breakfast, while Hana slept in. They might end up being late to homeroom, but it didn’t matter. Hailey was always late.

Hailey had cooked herself, not an entirely uncommon thing at the Green residence, but nonetheless, she hoped the message got across the Hana. She pushed the cart she’d put her and Hana’s breakfast on through the door into her room that Butler had opened for her, and to the bed where Hana was still either asleep or had just gotten accustomed to the one position that she was in.

Hailey sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled the top off of the cart, revealing the plates of pancakes she’d made for each of them — buttermilk, fluffy, and with blueberries baked inside. Also on the cart, was bacon (fried crispy), and a few pieces of sourdough toast, alongside different kinds of breakfast toppings, such as syrup, whipped cream, and a small bowl of chocolate chips.

There was also a pitcher of orange juice, which, admittedly, Hailey had not squeezed herself. She’d had some servant do it. But, nonetheless, the deed was done and the orange juice was fresh.

Hana stirred when Hailey woke earlier but it wasn’t until she started smelling the familiar scent of a properly cooked breakfast that she woke up fully - just in time to see Hailey reveal the contents atop the cart. Part of Hana was convinced she was dreaming, that all of what had transpired last night was some kind of dream; but dreams didn’t feel that good nor did they leave lingering feelings such as the fact that her hands were still very much immobile. That didn’t stop her from moving to a seated position, albeit with a bit of difficulty as she used her shoulder to hoist herself up. She was somewhat used to the binding but going down was far easier than getting up.

”Good morning.” Her voice was still that early morning hoarse but it was said with a smile and that had made all the difference. ”Breakfast in bed? Now I definitely feel special.” Hana had figured the day would start like any other, just that instead of waking up either in her own bed or with her head slumped on her computer desk she would be waking up in a far nicer room but breakfast really helped solidify the difference that she was utterly in favor of.

”Though you might have to feed me. Kinda hard to do...well...anything.”

“Yes, I know. I had already planned on that,” Hailey said, nodding to Hana. She reached out and readjusted Hana so she was sitting more properly. Sure, she could uncuff Hana, but where was the fun in that? This? This was much better than letting Hana operate on her own! Hailey smiled and cut off a piece of pancake, holding it up on a fork for Hana to eat. “Did you sleep alright? I understand you may have been just a bit uncomfortable. But that’s okay, you’ll get used to it. After you eat, you ought to take a relaxing, warm bath. Then we can head to school, where I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

Pausing briefly now, to consider something, Hailey added. “Speaking of school, I think you ought to stop… you know, being a drug dealer. Now, there are two reasons for that: first and foremost, I think it’s a rather dangerous profession — one I’d much rather not have my girlfriend participate in. Secondly, I don’t think it really fits you. Just work at Captain Cuddles for now.”

The cuffs were awkward at first, especially as she tried to get comfortable, but when she opted to sleep on her side it was much more manageable and soon enough she found herself sleeping like a newborn. It had helped that she went to sleep following what was sure to be the happiest of her memories in quite some time. She hoped more would follow. Especially if more meant more pancakes in bed, which she happily took off the fork. Instinctively, as they do when tasting something delicious, Hana’s eyes closed as she enjoyed the fluffy breakfast treat, barely having to chew before it slid down her throat.

It was fortunate that Hana managed to swallow the piece of pancake before Hailey followed the light conversation. Hana would likely have choked on the food and made a mess of things; not from the suggestion that Hana quit doing what she was known for, but the casual use of the ‘g’ word. ”G...Girlfriend?” She had to repeat it if only to see how it sounded coming off her tongue. ”I...you...I mean…” She wasn’t sure how to respond only that her reaction wasn’t born of negative thoughts on the term or the idea of it. ”I’m...gonna have to get used to saying that. I’ve got…a...a girlfriend...who makes great pancakes.” When she thought that it would be nice to experience pure happiness again, she never expected it to happen so soon.

“The secret to the pancakes is just the smallest amount of beer. It really helps fluff them up. Cream soda works too, but I prefer to the flavor of the beer…” Hailey trailed off, feeding Hana with another bite of pancake as she circled back around. “Anyway, yes. Girlfriend. You didn’t think I did all of that last night just because it was fun, did you?” Hailey asked, reaching out to pet Hana’s cheek.

Hailey was radiating happiness. Though she wasn’t saying it aloud, it should have been clear as day: whatever Hana was doing, was the right thing. “You ignored my point about you quitting your side job, by the way. You should probably let whoever called last night know that you’ve got a girlfriend, by the way. I don’t know who it was, but curfews are awful and I don’t much want to deal with them. Surely they’ll go away if you let her know you’re dating me. Either that, or I suppose I could stay at your place…” While Hailey spoke, she continued periodically feeding Hana.

”It’s not that...it’s just that I’ve never had...I’ve never been in a relationship. I didn’t want to assume or presume but I know what I said last night wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing.” Hana spoke between fed bites of pancake. Part of the perks of struggling to sleep in handcuffs was giving Hana some quiet time to think on the events of the evening. Things had moved quickly but there was just a feeling she had felt where it just felt right. Her brother often made snarky comments on the lack of Hana’s dating life and Hana’s refusal to the blind dates once set up by her parents weren’t just because she thought blind dates were stupid. Hearing Hailey say it made it palatable. Hana had a girlfriend. Hana had the girlfriend.

”That was my sister who called. I live with her. The situation with me, my siblings, and my parents are...complicated. I’ll...I’ll tell her though she might insist on meeting you.” Telling Abby the news was about the furthest thing from Hana’s mind even as she was excited at being in a genuine relationship. The news was sure to travel quickly at school and her stock was sure to rise with it. ”I guess it wouldn’t do well for you to be dating a drug dealer. Do you know why I started? You’re gonna think it’s stupid but I really wanted a case for a phone I didn’t even have. Not the phone. A case. Because it was cross promotion with a game I was way into. My parents wouldn’t get it for me and I didn’t have a job so my brother told me he knew how I could make some easy money. Before I knew it, I was wearing clothes like the popular kids wore and I was being invited to parties and people knew who I was.” There was a wistful sort of tone to Hana’s voice and the memory drew a smile which only lingered after more pancakes were enjoyed.

”I can’t say I hated it. I mean, would we have even met if not for my side job? But if you asked me which was more important: drug money or being your girlfriend...I’d pick you every time. Beverly Hills High is going to have to find a new dealer.”

To someone like Hailey, who had never had to work for anything she’d wanted or asked for, the way Hana was speaking and reminiscing about her job and how it brought her to where she was… the story was strange. It wasn’t bad per se, but it was different than anything Hailey had ever experienced. It’d even caused her to think about telling Hana: Nevermind. Do what you want.

She had to stay strong, though. Hailey was confident that in the long wrong, pulling Hana out of the game now was the better move. It was a dangerous game to play, and Hailey was protecting them both. She fed Hana more of the food, before she reached under the pillow and held up the key. “Here, let’s get you mobile, and you can take a bath.” She said, before reaching behind Hana and undoing both of the handcuffs. “I hope your wrists aren’t too visibly bruised. If they are, maybe we won’t do anymore overnights in them. I’ll have to think about it, anyway. I don’t mind, but it physically marks you; it just turns me on.”

The choice was made. While it might have felt like Hailey was dictating everything, Hana was likely going to quit anyway upon graduation. She wasn’t stupid. She was well aware that drug dealers didn’t always get a clean exit; fortunately she didn’t have a debt to repay and though she had skimmed off the top when paying her brother and his friends, she had earned them enough money over the past three years. She could make a clean out and the world would continue. One drug dealer wouldn’t be missed and before long some other ambitious sort with connections would take over duties of doping up students.

Besides, Hana was onto something much more rewarding than drug money.

”A bath before school? I’m moving up in the world. No more simple showers.” Never was Hana so delighted to see a simple key; she sighed when the cuffs were removed and immediately she took to massaging her wrists. The hope of a lack of visibility was dashed as the markings were damn near imprinted fully on her wrists. The skin wasn’t grossly discolored but unless she wore long sleeves or bracelets it would be plainly visible. ”I think you’re gonna have to be prepared to be turned on then.” Hana held up both wrists as if for inspection, bruise and all. ”All the fun of cuffs without getting arrested.”

“A bath before school is moving up in the world? Sweetie, you may have just changed planets, if that’s the case.” Hailey kissed Hana on the cheek, smiled at her, then smiled wider after she eyed the bruises — hopefully someone would notice at school… — then she stood up off of the bed. “If you want more food after the bath, that’s fine with me. It’ll stay warm on the tray,” she explained, putting the cover back over it, and gesturing for Hana to follow her. Once Hana was following along, Hailey led her across the room and into the huge, luxurious bathroom.

In the center of the room was what was obviously Hailey’s bathtub, already filled to the brim with warm water. However, the bathtub looked like it may have very well fit ten people, should she feel so inclined. Hailey gestured toward the edge of the bath, “I wasn’t sure what you liked in your baths, so you have plain water to play with. I have bath bombs, bubbles… the works. Choose whatever you want.”

It was a good thing Hana was still technically an athlete, given the nature of breakfast and the high probability of spending more time at Hailey’s home, it seemed likely that lavish sort of meals were on the agenda going forward. She’d never really given much consideration about her figure, but softball had been sort of how she cheated her way around the much more preferable ‘junk food and vanilla soda in front of a computer’ thing. Cheerleading would have to be the substitute there. Still, the prospect of more food served in this manner was certainly enticing but right now her mind was on the bath and only that. Well, the bath and the fact that her cheek was burning red following the kiss. Would she get used to it? Possibly. But it felt great every time.

The bath was something else. To Hana it looked more like a swimming pool or a hot tub and it further reminded her of the gap that existed between the two of them. Hana’s family had a decent income, successful business owner for a dad and a hair stylist for a mom meant the kids never went hungry and with two of the four Park children legal adults and on their own meant that the only savings were for Hana and Jeremy’s eventual college fund. But even so, Hana’s financial situation was hardly so lavish - and she wasn’t complaining, just thanking whoever it was that allowed her such an experience. At school she’d have to thank Henry for what turned out to be her final order.

”Bubbles. It has to be bubbles.” Hana seemed elated at the notion, even picking out the bottle of bubble bath and doing the honors of pouring it in. As she waited for the bubbles to fill the tub, Hana trailed her hand over the top of the water before feeling emboldened. ”Will you be joining me or is this a bath for one?” Regardless of answer, Hana smiled towards Hailey and she had every intention of being the first one to step into the water.

Hailey’s lips pursed for a moment, before she giggled. Yes, the ice queen giggled, in an incredibly girlish manner, and her face lit up in a wide smile. It didn’t fade, though Hailey had a very sudden, very internal realization. Hana Park was melting her heart. Was this bad? Should she fight it? Hailey wasn’t sure — it’d have to take some reflecting on herself and perhaps a discussion with all three of her parents before she knew what she wanted and if she were truly okay with this. For now, though? Hailey was lost in the moment, and the moment was Hana’s.

“I think it can fit both us,” Hailey purred, pulling her shirt off, nothing underneath it. “If you get sleepy afterward, it’s not my fault. You’ll simply have to catch up during homeroom and in the car.”

Though Hana had gotten more than an eyeful the previous night, she still found herself breathless as soon as Hailey proved to be quite bold. She had instigated this with her absolutely in no way leading question and of course she had expected Hailey to agree, and yet even still whatever words Hana might have been thinking of at the moment were lost amidst a soup of bathwater, bubbles, and Hailey Green. Hana stepped further into the tub, to allow Hailey enough room to step in herself, thankful that the water was a good excuse for why her face seemed a bit more red.

”Sleepy? Right now I feel like I’ve just had a dozen coffees.” The worst thing about it being a school day was the fact that this bath had to be just that. A bath. Hana would take every opportunity afforded her, however, and a bath with her girlfriend was a hell of an opportunity. ”I’ll wash your back. With a cloth in case you had any ideas.”

Hailey did have some ideas, and they were lived out in the bathtub with her shiny new girlfriend. However, less than thirty minutes into their relaxing time together, Hailey had to extract them from the comfort of the bathtub, and within forty five minutes, she and Hana were both ready and tucked into the back of one of Hailey’s cars. From the front seat, the ever observant Butler, spoke up. “You’re late.”

Tersely, Hailey responded. “And you’re not paid to make such observations. Drive.” And their journey began.

Family dinner had been eventful, to say the least. In Jareth’s eyes, the hecticness of it was both amusing, and endearing. This was home. It was nights like these that he longed for whenever he was away on tour. This was his family — this rag tag group of men — none of which were related by blood, but all were family nonetheless. Nights like these made everything worth it, all of the struggle to get here, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not when he had the world already.

JD was sent off to join his actual parents at home for the night, and Jar told his other sons (Damian included) to go make themselves scarce. He would help Remy with the after dinner clean-up. And what he meant by that was, he would do all of the clean-up, and he would make sure that Remy’s glass of wine stayed full while he sat and relaxed near Jar.

Remy had been humming a song earlier, one that Jar had written him on one of his many nights away from the light of his life. It was a love song about long-distance relationships, and it was one of the softest, most intimate melodies that he had ever composed. As he made his way around the kitchen, scrubbing pans and loading the dishwasher, he also hummed the tune, which was now stuck in his head.

Having loaded the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, Jar turned to his husband now. The fairer-haired man was leaning up against the counters, his glass of blush colored wine beside him. Jareth sang the last verse of their song in a soft, angelic tone as he made his way over to him. He kissed him lovingly and hoisted Remy up so that he was now sitting on the countertop. Gazing up at him with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow, he asked: “Lazy… huh?”

By now, Remy had drank an excessive amount of wine and with the touch of his husband lifting him up, still able to pick him up even after they both grew in height and width, he couldn’t help but giggle. The giddiness he felt by simply being this close to Jareth was influenced not only by the intoxication, but his doting forever love for him. The flood of endorphins urged him to bite, but he refrained from doing so, his cheeks adorned with an attractive rosiness. Putting his glass down, Remy wrapped his arms around his Nightshade and ‘innocently’ defended himself, “I was kiddingggg.” The chef suppressed a smile, before leaning in closer and brushing his nose against Jar’s, “It took me years to be a good liar, and even now, I’m pretty bad. Mel’s just gullible. I’m surprised I kept my feelings from you for so long!” The gentle sound of Remy’s giggles softened the room. Vibrant. Warm. Lovely.

“You didn’t.” Jareth said through a grin and then kissed the tip of Rem’s nose. He looked at him with a loving smile in his eyes. “I was just blind.” He pulled away slightly, though his arms were still around Remy’s waist, whilst Rem’s own arms were over his shoulders. “Quite the lively dinner we had tonight, hmm?”

“Our baby has a date Friday! I’m so happy for him. When should I invite her over? Is it too soon? I want to meet her.” Remy excitedly rambled.

Suddenly, he came to a realization that showcased in a gasp, “Do you think Riley is upset about this? He was so moody! More so than usual. Though, I found it funny he was the first to answer the phone.”

Jar grinned at his rambling husband. His face was flushed and he was talking faster than he normally did. Remy was drunk, and it was absolutely adorable. “Mhm.” Jareth hummed in thought. “Damian also got himself kicked off the team, and Trevor showed up with a busted lip. I’m not convinced those two things are unrelated. Surely you remember how football boys can get…” It wasn’t that either of them played sports in high school, gods no, but Remy did convince Jareth to be a wolf mascot alongside him back in the day. “But yes, something’s up with Rye lately. Seemed worse today. Have you gotten him to talk about it?”

“No, I has not!” What a bad father he was, Remy pouted. “I should go ask, I’ll go ask riiiight now.” The blond father slid off the counter, only to have himself pressed against his husband. He was done. Inches away from Jareth’s chest, Remy devilishly grinned and nommed his love like he was the best cake known to man. Mmmmm, delicious.

“Not like this, you won’t” Jareth chuckled at his hubby’s inebriated enthusiasm. He pulled Remy back down off the counter and made sure that he was steady to stand. “You and I are going to go downstairs to the theater and snuggle up. We’ll see how many episodes of Parks and Rec we can get through before you pass out, and then I’m going to put you to bed. That’ll give Rye some time to brood. He’s like me, brooding’s good for our types. Then I’ll go talk to him. K?”

“I love my brooding boys! I can brood too, see.” Remy made the grumpiest face he could muster in his drunk state. See. He broods too!

Facing the ceiling of his bedroom, Riley looked up at the blaring light emitting from his phone at the number of the mysterious ‘B’ he needed to call. Why was everyone abusing all his hard work? The Morning Show wouldn’t exist without Riley. First, Trixie, by pushing Brynn on him, and now this person that he doesn’t even know. If they wanted a show so badly, why couldn’t they find a different time slot? Mornings were his. Though, honestly, if this were night school, his show would be more appropriate for that time frame.



What plans? Mrs. Green and Mrs. O’Connor gave the students enough to talk about for weeks. What did this person want to do? Obviously, one thing was to abuse the exposure Riley got just by being on every homerooms’ tvs in the morning. This was frustrating to say the least. All Riley wanted was peace, and to take back what was his! Rise was his baby! He worked hard to even convince the school to get as much financial backing as he did because hey, he isn’t going to toot his horn, but Riley would like to think he was one hell of a business.



It was 10:28 PM. Rolling over in his bed, Riley looked down at his phone. Did he have to? Why did he feel like if he didn’t, he would regret it? Ugh. Today sucked, and it wasn’t going to stop sucking until he went to sleep. Huffing to himself, he pressed the call button and waited in annoyance for whoever to pick up. He had to make sure his attitude didn’t appear on the line. While he waited, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, and then exhaled it all out.

Almost immediately, the phone was answered. “You were almost late. I said 10:30, didn’t I? That’s when I go to bed, Riley.” The voice on the other end of the line was easily identifiable after it spoke… Brian Helmsley. The boy who’d been gone for ages was very suddenly back, and apparently wanted to work on the show, now. “Anyway, hi. I guess I can’t complain too much, huh? At least you answered. The show. I need to have the opening bit; I want to use it to shill Damian’s next big party.” Brian explained; and just like the text… he wasn’t really asking.

Riley sat up immediately at the voice he was listening to — the unexpected person on the other end. Brian Helmsley was calling him? With a raised eyebrow, Riley questioned one of the most prominent figures that walked the halls of their school, “Why… why is Damian throwing a party so soon, and can’t you advertise it, I don’t know, like, the normal way? Everyone has social media.”

“I suppose I could. But this is much faster, and besides, the party is tomorrow night; social media isn’t that fast. Look, whether you like it or not, I’m on the show. I want to take the first four or five minutes to drop a few things on the audience, and then from there I can stand aside and let you handle business. I’m sure you’re more than capable. If you’d like, I can even only participate for this show. Maybe start a new trend: daily special guests.” Brian offered into the phone, doing his best to try and make this easy on Riley. Truth be told, Brian wasn’t much a fan of stealing other people’s thunder, but this was a special situation. They’d involved you know who.

Rubbing his forehead with one hand, the other holding his phone, Riley thought about the boy’s words. He really didn’t want to start anything with a Helmsley. Riley was good at staying out of the politics of the school, which is funny, because his show displayed his face everyday and yet he still wasn’t involved in any huge drama, besides the what he is in right now… with two gay boys. “A party on a Tuesday?” Would parents even allow their kids out late at night on a Tuesday? “Look, Brian, I don’t want any problems. If you think this is what you got to do, I imagine you’ll do it regardless of my approval. So, is there anything I need to know? Do you actually want to be a permanent co-host? I can’t really deny people in joining a school club, you know?” Riley would have to rework some of his planned episodes but if Brian wanted to be part of the club, he had no right to refuse him. Plus, Rise was suppose to bring the school together, so maybe this was the next step for him. Sharing the load of leaving some sort of impact on the school with Brynn and Brian. Riley shuddered at the thought that he would be working with two people that had similar names and people he never thought he’d work with during his high school career.

“You’re correct. Riley, I’m really sorry. I know that it’s your thing, and I don’t mean to interfere in your thing, but I have to do this. It’s very, very important to me, and I’ll fight you over it if I have to. Yes, I wouldn’t mind being a permanent host — but I won’t fight and push to be on there. If you feel like I’m encroaching on your territory, then you tell me and I’ll bow out. I promise.” Brian explained, and it seemed like for all intents and purposes, Brian was being very personable and courteous. He didn’t want to push Riley around, he just saw an opportunity, and he was going to take it. “And, yeah, a party on Tuesday. Don’t worry, you’ll know all the details as soon as you get to school tomorrow. Our conversation is over, I think. Any questions?”

“Nah, we’re good. If I think of anything, I’ll ask tomorrow.” Riley sighed in defeat, but he wasn’t opposed to the idea of a Helmsley being on his show. Could be a good move for the school, or it could be a bad play and ruin everything he built. It was too soon to determine that. “Uh, I guess, welcome back? And see you in the morning?” Words he never thought he’d say to a Helmsley.

“Yep. See you first thing.” Click.

Ugh. What has Riley’s life turned into? Tossing his phone to the side, the boy fell back on his bed. Why did he bother with this whole high school thing? He didn’t even know how he’d approach Jamie and Marshall next. His life was a hot mess, and on top of that, he was losing his brother. Resting his arm on his head, in the darkness of his room, Riley closed his eyes and took in the silence.

The quiet moment was interrupted by a soft rapping at the door. Riley’s eyes would look to see his more paternal father there, standing in his bedroom’s door frame. Jareth’s arms were crossed over his chest as right shoulder was leaning against the wooden frame. He was smiling warmly, which may or may not have been evident in the dim evening light. “May I come in?”

“Uh…” Riley sat up and quickly scanned his room to make sure it didn’t have left over food lying about, or dirty clothes. Good, still clean. Scratching his head, the young brunette nodded his head, “Yeah, sure.” As he waited for his Pops to respond, he looked at his Gundam showcase. He was trying to keep himself occupied while he waited for his impending doom. What did he do now?

Jareth pushed himself off of the door frame and stepped inside Rye’s domain. The room was relatively clean for a teenage boy’s, certainly far better than Jar’s had been at that age. He pulled the computer chair over towards the bed and sat down on it, kicking his feet up on a box and facing his son. “Late night phone call… could it be that both my sons have become Romeo’s in my most recent absence?” He asked with a crooked smile.

“Ha. Very funny, Pa.” With Riley’s luck, he’ll die single and on the way to his deathbed, he will ruin relationships. “That was... Brian. Brian Helmsley. One of Trevor’s friends. He’s back with his sisters and he was asking if he could join my show.” After shrugging at the truth, Riley reached for his juggle balls off his nightstand and started to throw them up in the air as he waited for his father’s response.

“Ahh,” Jareth mused in thought. He, of course, knew of the Helmsley's, everyone did. Jar had actually met many of them at their “family” get togethers, hell, he’d attended his first Helmsley barbeque when he was only seventeen, and a Colorado outsider. They could be… intense, in his experience. “Is that why you’ve seemed… bothered, recently? I know I’m like, the deadbeat dad who leaves all the time, but I’d still like to know how you guys are doing.” He laughed at his own joke. He was a dad now, so he could tell dad jokes that weren’t funny and laugh at them if he wanted. “You can talk to me, you know.” His tone was gentle now, more serious than humorous.

Riley let the balls drop in his hand, and he eyed his father for a good, long moment. He never did tell Trevor what was bothering him, and if he didn’t speak up, he’d explode surely, but to the wrong people. His Pops was a third party, which was a good thing. Gently squishing the balls in his hands to relieve stress, Rye defeatedly sighed, “I think I fucked up.”

Okay, this was a start.

Jareth kept quiet for a few moments. He didn’t look upset, he didn’t even look surprised, he just looked… patient. When Riley didn’t continue right away, Jar gently prodded him further, “How so?”

Errr… “By being in a closet with another boy on accident?” Was that a good enough explanation? Probably not. Wait! That made him sound gay. “I needed a breather, so I went in a closet. I found Marshall crying. Comforted him. Then when we left…” He trailed off, not finishing his thought. His dad probably thought he made out with this kid! He was doing a terrible job in explaining himself.

“Oh.” Jar’s eyebrows raised, but his expression remained otherwise calm. That was slightly unexpected. Yet, also, surprisingly un-surprising. Call it a father’s intuition, or perhaps the familiarity with what it felt like to be in the closet for forever, but Jar always did have a feeling that Rye might not be as straight as he said he was. “...and, you’re worried about what people might think? You don’t have to be, you know.” Jareth hazarded a guess at finishing the sentence that his son seemed to be struggling to.

“I’m worried about what Jamie would think! I broke his goddamn heart.” Oh man. He said too much. “And no, I don’t have a thing for Jamie. Or Marshall. But I think they have a thing for each other. I don’t know! I didn’t mean to cause a misunderstanding. I was just being me and being a good friend, but me being a good friend led to the end of the fucking world as we know it.” Well. He felt better after saying all that.

Jareth should have expected that Riley would get defensive. He would have been the same way if the roles were reversed. Jar had struggled to admit that he was maybe, sort of, kind of, a little bit gay until after he had kissed Remy. It took that long, so, he could understand, and he wouldn’t push the issue any further. Not tonight, at least. “Well, the world isn’t ending as far as I know, and that also doesn’t sound like it’s as much of your fault as you think it is. If they do have a thing for each other, then it’s their job to communicate. High school boys aren’t very good at that usually, but that’s also… not your fault. Have you talked to either of them since it happened?” Jar assumed that this took place at the infamous party, which was a few days ago. This would explain the excessive amounts of brooding lately.

“Oh.” Riley stood up and grumbled, “I’ll just go up to one of them and be like hey, so, I’m sorry I fucked up your chances with that boy you liked. Or man, dude, everyone was in that closet, why is it weird that I was in it too?” He pelted one of his balls against his closet door. “Yeah, right, Pops. The last thing they want to see is me.”

“I doubt that’s true…” Jar replied softly. He watched as his son chuckled a foam ball against the door. Rye had caught it and bounced it again a few more times, before it wildly bounced off in the wrong direction. “And that’s not just me talking as your father. If it were you in that situation, wouldn’t you want to know what really happened? If they are that hurt by it, your honestly can only help them.”

“Well, they can come to me when they want to talk, but I’m busy dealing with school politics taking over my show and accepting the fact that Trevor is whipped.” Oh fuck. Rye froze at the words that came out of his mouth. He didn’t mean to say that last part. “Daddy, I should go to bed. I have to get up early.”

Jareth’s lips formed a straight line, which ghosted into the slightest bit of a frown. He recognized the shift in Riley’s mood. The time for talk was over, it was shut down time. Poke too much harder, and he was bound to explode. Like father, like son. “Get some rest, we can talk about it another time.” Jar stood up and pushed the chair back towards Riley’s desk. He walked back over to his son’s side, mussed his hair and then let the hand fall to his shoulder, which he gave a comforting squeeze. If Rye wanted a hug, this was an invitation to one. If not, Jar would let him be. “Sleep well, kiddo. I love ya.”

He did want a hug. Did he go for it? No. He didn’t. Riley gave his father a thumbs up as a form of dismissal and then watched Jar leave his room, who shut the door behind him. Once he was left by himself, he lied down, turned to his side, brought his pillow close to him, and stared blankly ahead.

Tomorrow would be a better day.

A haunting C sharp rang out through the practice room as Johnny Dixon played the final note of his original piece, one that he was planning to perform at the upcoming drama club’s fundraising talent show. It still needed a lot of work, and much like the boy who composed it, the piece was imperfect, and finicky. The mood wasn’t right, and it certainly wasn’t illustrating his emotions properly. Not that Dixon would own up to it, but this was because he wasn’t admitting the emotions that he was trying to portray to himself yet. The melody felt trapped, and that’s what would make it beautiful to any outsider that might hear him playing. It was trapped, just like he was. There was emotion and passion in the music, it just wasn’t what he had meant for it to be — it was better, but he would never see it that way.

Being a creator was maddening at times, so it was no mystery to JD as to why many of the greats fell prey to their insanities. He could relate. Sighing, JD pulled his bow away from the A string and let the room fall into deafening silence. It was peaceful, for a moment. That was what this was meant to be… peaceful. Even when Dixon didn’t have a talent show to prepare for, he spent most mornings alone in the practice room with his beloved Ella. This regular morning practice, like taekwondo, had been recommended by Dr. Thomas. He said that routines could be healthy, that they were a calming constant to a mind so frequently wrapped up in chaos.

JD placed Ella and her bow in a velvet-lined case with an intimate, delicate touch. Everything about JD’s music and artistry stood in stark contrast to the turbulent way that he lived the rest of his life. When the case was clasped closed, the gentle part of himself was shut away for the day. He was in the process of placing his viola in one of the many metal compartments in the instrument locker room when the door a few feet away burst open. He tilted his head back enough past the locker door to see the familiar frame of one particular upperclassman drama star. The cute one.

No! Not the cute one... What? Just like he shut the metal locker in front of him, JD slammed that thought to the back of his mind. It was curious, though, that Marshall was back here at this time of day. Usually the only people JD ran into here at this hour were fellow band geeks and orchestra nerds. His cat-like curiosity got the best of him, and he wandered over to the practice room that the taller boy had holed himself up in.

Standing on his tiptoes, Dixon peeked through the small window just in time to see Marshall forcefully kick the single chair in the center of the practice room towards the back corner. Yikes. That kind of rage was familiar, JD could both sympathize and relate to it. Briefly, he considered walking in and seeing if there was anything that he could do to help — but the popular drama king was then quickly reduced to a crying heap on the floor. Double yikes. Dixon immediately ducked back down so that he was flat on his feet once more. He felt guilty that he had so blatantly intruded on what seemed to be a very personal moment. Part of him still wanted to help, but that would mean admitting to having seen the whole thing, which he wasn’t willing to do.

Instead of sticking around the music rooms to be caught as a spy, JD made his way towards homeroom. He was already late, but he was a straight A student (looks can be deceiving), so Mrs. Winship likely wouldn’t care. Not that she really cared regardless of your grades, but JD didn’t know that about her yet. This was his first semester with Winship as a homeroom teacher, and he’d missed homeroom yesterday, so he didn’t really know her quirks. Dixon paused in the doorway of the classroom, unsure of where to seat himself. He didn’t want to be a clingy younger brother and sit next to Trev, and he didn’t want to be the annoying freshman to sit by Owen, and he also didn’t really have that many other friends, so… this was a tough decision. Relenting to just sit by himself in proper emo fashion, Dixon attempted to slink towards the back of the room unnoticed.

”DIXON!”

Katie had stood up from her chair, waving at the boy, cheerful as ever. Her shout had drawn the attention of most of the class, leading Noah to put his head down, his face red from the attention Katie had brought to them. Katie however, couldn’t have cared less. She reveled in the attention she was receiving, even if her friend didn’t.

Dixon startled. Why on earth was someone yelling his name? The friendly version too, not JD, or Johnny. Dixon. He peeked up through a curtain of bright green and brown fringe to see Katie Callaghan, standing up from her chair and waving him over. Dixon ducked his head down and headed in that direction, if only to get her to sit back down and not be so… loud? JD didn’t like being at the center of attention, not even when he was on the stage playing. It was embarrassing. “Hi,” he greeted his theater friend meekly and took a seat.

Katie grinned, returning to her seat as JD headed over and sat down next to her and Noah. She liked JD, all things considered. She’d met him through drama club, seeing as how he was part of the orchestra, and as reluctant as he’d been to let her in, Katie was a persistent girl. She had made sure they became friends. “Dixon, this is Noah, I’m sure I’ve told you about him. Y’know, the one that does all the art? Noah, this is Dixon,” Katie said.

Noah was doing his best to blend in, up until Katie went and introduced him to her friend. Why did she always do that? His face still tinged pink, a reminder of the intense blush he’d had kicking moments ago. He brought his head up, his blue eyes halting on one… masterpiece. The first thing that Noah caught was his hair, bright green, radioactive almost. A warning sign that shouted “Noah! Don’t Touch!” but only made Noah want to touch him more. And the metal that poked out through the boy’s lips? Woah. This kid was just bursting at the seams with color and he was so… him. He didn’t give any fucks. Or at least, he didn’t seem like he did. Noah realized, after staring for what was probably way too long, that he hadn’t spoken yet. “Oh, uh, hi,” Noah said, trying his best not to panic, despite the telltale heat of blood rushing to his face.

At least Katie had stopped yelling when Dixon sat down, that was a relief. He hadn’t bothered to look at who was sitting next to her — JD made a habit of not really looking at people unless he was talking to them, and even then it was with limited eye contact, which was simply an odd social quirk that he had. Katie made quick work of forcing the young emo out of that by introducing whoever it was beside her. Noah... like the guy who loved animals and built a ship for them or whatever, Dixon recognized the name from previous conversations he’d had with her. By conversations, he mostly meant that she talked… and he listened. Katie was nice though, he liked Katie. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have come over here. JD looked up from his desk briefly to meet the eyes of this… oh wow, he didn’t look like some bible dude. Dixon’s gaze lingered for an uncharacteristically long couple of seconds before he focused it back at his hands atop the desk.

“Art’s cool.” Well, that was smooth. Was he trying to be smooth? No. Maybe… “I’m Dixon… or, JD. Dixon’s better though.” Like the last name of the Walking Dead guy, JD didn’t admit that, but if people associated him with being badass and killing zombies, that was cool with him.

Noah grinned, and looked down at the tile floor of their homeroom, doing his best to look away from this radioactive boy’s gaze. Two words, ‘Art’s cool,’ ran through his head, over and over. Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod! Noah’s stomach was doing flips, his heart was pounding, his palms were clammy. Was this radiation poisoning?

Katie on the other hand, was far from distressed by JD’s appearance, in fact, she’d long since stopped focusing too much on it. The kid dressed different and he dyed his hair bright colors. Big whoop. Instead she was focused on the more important things in life. Like where JD was gonna be tonight. “Dixon, you’re going to the Helmsley thing tonight, right? Me and Noah are going, we’ve gotta make sure my idiot brother doesn’t get his face pounded in,” Katie said, tilting her head over to where Jamie was sitting. Noah, having heard his name, looked up for a moment, clearly confused. “Oh I forgot to tell you. We’re going to the party,” Katie said, earning a resigned shrug from her friend. Noah had learned by now that Katie frequently got what she wanted.

“Helmsley thing?” Dixon looked up at Katie, meeting her eyes without much struggle. Katie was familiar enough of a person to get a full on look from JD, not just a sideways glance. He looked… confused. Although they were plastered all over the halls, he hadn’t seen the flyers. Dixon was often so far within his own head that he missed out on the happenings of his surroundings, especially when he had headphones in — which, he did this morning. “I mean, maybe? I’ve, uh… never been to a high school party before.” Or any party, really, besides a family gathering or birthday party.

What about Jamie’s face now? Dixon followed Katie’s gaze towards her brother, who was sitting at a table full of ladies, as per usual. The other token boy in that group wasn’t present. Weren’t they like… a thing, or something? JD remembered how angry he had seen Marshall earlier and his eyes widened… no way, that couldn’t be right… “Woah… w-who did that?”

“You’re kidding me, right? The Helmsley’s are throwing this party on their yacht. It’s gonna be wicked, I’m sure,” Katie explained, pulling a flyer out of her backpack and handing it to JD. “Jamie’s face? Owen Lyon.”

“What?!” Dixon hissed out in a shocked whisper, taking the flyer he was being handed without much thought. JD was close to the supposed perpetrator, very close. They sparred at the combat club all the time. They were friends. Owen’s dad was his mentor, one of his idols, even. “Owen, you’re sure?” He spoke quietly, his voice still colored with disbelief.

“Yeah, Jamie and him got into some scrap yesterday,” Katie said, careful not to hand out too many details. She knew Jamie’s job for Trixie was supposed to be on the downlow, and Katie didn’t want to blow his cover. “It’s not a big deal. But, what is a big deal, is the party. You’re coming, it’ll be ace, we’ll all have a good time,” Katie decreed, smiling. Noah shrugged, and chanced another glance at Dixon.

“Yeah, you should come,” Noah eeked out, trying to appear cool and collected, and landing somewhere closer to awkward and terrified.

Katie grinned. “See! Even Noah wants you to come! And how could you resist that pretty face?” Katie teased, nudging Noah playfully.

“Huh?” Dixon was thoroughly distracted from the fact his close friend might have beat some helpless kid up by the words ‘pretty’ and ‘face’ being used to describe this new acquaintance who did, in fact, have a pretty face. JD looked from Katie and then to Noah. A mistake, that was a mistake. He felt his lightly freckled cheeks grow warm in reaction to the other boy’s flushed expression. “Oh, yeah. It’s a... nice… face.” Holy crap, what? Move on, quickly! “Y-yeah, sure, I’ll go. I’ll, uhm, have to figure out what to tell my mom, though.” JD’s blushing increased tenfold and he kept his eyes on anything but Noah, or Katie, for that matter. What to tell his mom? Fuck, he was so lame…

Katie grinned, clapping her hands together with excitement. “Perfect! Just tell her you’re going to a study group and you’ll be home late. Works every time for me,” Katie said, seemingly unfazed by JD’s comment on Noah’s face.

Meanwhile, Noah had nearly died. He’d said he had a nice face. Wow. That was new. And exciting. And terrifying. And wow. He looked back up at Dixon, who’s attention was now held by Katie, and smirked ever so slightly. He could see the portrait he’d sketch the second he got a moment alone, of this boy, bright green spilling from everywhere, his mouth, eyes, nose, ears. Enchanting and dangerous. Radioactive.

Something dawned in Joy Darling’s mind as she put on her gym shirt in the girls’ locker room. She hadn’t brought her best friend, Katie Callaghan, up to speed with… everything. Popping her head out of the hole of her shirt, her cheeks shifted to a light pink as she looked at her friend standing in front of her, at the locker beside her. How should she go about this? What should she say? Katie probably already heard the rumors about her being on Damian’s hip the entirety of the New Year’s party. Scanning the room to make sure they were the last two left, Joy cleared her throat, before blurting, “I don’t think I’m a virgin anymore!” Was she completely sure? No. She blacked out. Her hands immediately went to cover her lips. She didn’t mean to be that loud.

Katie froze, mid way into changing into her PE shirt. She stood there, still for a moment, before finally pulling the shirt the rest of the way over her torso, and turning around to face Joy. One eyebrow cocked in an expression of intrigue, Katie gave her friend a long look before opening her mouth. ”I’m sorry, you don’t think? As in, you might be wrong?” Katie asked, the disbelief in her voice obvious. First off, if anyone would have placed a bet on who would lose their virginity first, Man Hating Katie Callaghan and Lil Miss Computer Nerd Joy Darling, they would have picked Katie. Joy hadn’t even had her first kiss last time Katie had checked. Second, how could Joy not know if she lost her virginity? Joy was not that reckless that she wouldn’t remember her first time, right?

“Okay here me out for a second.” Joy absentmindedly started braiding her hair that was lying on her left shoulder, “At the New Year’s Eve Party I was in this weird strong, empowered woman mood because my Mitty and Daddums really lifted my spirits. You already know I want to make small steps in my looks, hence the hair. Not for anyone but me. I kind of want to be classy, like my parents. Well the effect this change had on someone — Damian — was really… fast?” Man, how does she even go about telling her friend she was a fucking slut at the party. “Uhhhh…. well. I might’ve blacked out at some point? I’ve been asking around how I was. One person said during beer pong I got so in the moment for being on a total winning streak that I jumped on him and licked his face. Um, another person said that I was being super assertive on the dance floor and they couldn’t believe their eyes. Iunno, Katie. What I do remember is I woke up on his bed, with his shirt on, and I was hurting all over. But that might’ve been just the hangover….” The hopeless place that was the party brought out a side Joy didn’t even know she had in her.

Katie was shocked. Her best friend, her never been kissed best friend, had maybe, possibly, probably, lost her virginity to Damian O’Connor. As in, the hottest boy in school. ”I’m sorry, back up. Damian? The Damian? The one with the abs and the face and the jawline that looks like Michelangelo himself chiseled it? That Damian?” Katie asked, still in awe of her friend’s delve into adventure.

“Yeah… one and the same.” After Joy finished braiding half of her hair, she went to do the other side, “We have this very… intimate relationship now. We haven’t had sex since then! If we even had sex, but I guess I might be into kissing him and stuff. We’re not a thing though! At least I don’t know if we are. I feel like we have this friends with benefits thing going since we haven’t even gone on a date yet. It’s different for me. I don’t mind. What I do know is I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.” Joy bit the bottom of her lip, as she wondered if this was the type of relationship she wanted her first relationship to be. Her mother didn’t even know about her adventures yet and Joy didn’t know if she would ever tell her. Her mom wasn’t mad about the hair change, only upset because she didn’t tell her that she wanted to dye her hair. But sex? That’s a whole different ball park.

Katie shook her head, and crossed her arms. ”Joy, this is going to go poorly,” Katie warned, looking over at her friend. ”It’s all fun and games until you catch feelings, and Damian dumps you for the next hot girl,” Katie said. ”You and I both know enough about Damian, do you really see this going somewhere you’d like?” Katie asked. She didn’t much see the point in relationships, but if Joy wanted one she wasn’t going to object. She would heavily object to trying to get into a relationship with a boy who was well known for the rounds he’d make around the girls of BHHS. Joy deserved better than that.

“That’s the thing, Katie.” Joy sat on the bench, looking up at her friend, who didn’t think relationships would benefit her. Not even worth a learning experience. “I can solve quadratic equations in a matter of seconds. I can talk about the history of general relativity like it was a memory from my childhood. I can tell someone every single book I’ve read in order within the past year. I honestly remember further but who would care about that. What I don’t understand is relationships. The concept of how ‘love’ and ‘sex’ works is beyond me. Why people do what they do because they care. Why did Owen and Trixie react the way they did? Why did love do that?” Joy sighed and replayed the shitshow that was her brother’s break up, before adding, “I won’t ever know until I take a chance and learn for myself. Do I see something beyond high school with him? Truthfully? No. I don’t even know if I love him like that, but I do know I enjoy his company. That’s a start and who knows!” Joy hopped up with a resolved mind and heart. “Maybe we can be more than just friends. Or maybe we are simply here to make the other person feel a little less lonely while high school sucks our souls away. Am I wrong for thinking that?”

Katie sighed and shrugged. ”Hey, it’s your funeral,” Katie said. Joy was clearly set on this path, and Katie was smart enough to realize that nothing she said would change that. ”But! Let the record show that I was against this from the beginning,” Katie exclaimed as the pair made their way to the locker room’s exit, grinning. This was definitely going to crash and burn, but at least Katie had tried. Now all there was to do was grab her popcorn and hope Joy didn’t come out the other end too fucked up.

Once they arrived in the gym it was lap time. Joy hated laps, but it had to be done. So, as she ran beside Katie, she breathed out a question, “So, are you going to bail on the sadie dance or go solo? We haven’t gone to a dance together since… ever.” It was odd for Joy to even care about a school function like a dance. But she did and this was also her way of prying to see if her ‘hate men’ girlfriend had someone of interest. There were times Joy wondered if Katie was putting on a front. Even she, who only cared about succeeding in her own pursuits, like building a prototype for the science fair, thought about kisses and hugs and cuddles. It’s probably why she acted the way she did at the party, honestly.

Speak of the devil. Damian was in the same gym class, which Katie and Joy may have forgotten — since before this, they’d never had any reason to think about him! Damian was standing on the home side of the gymnasium, shooting a basketball into the hoop on his lonesome. Damian usually did whatever he wanted during gym class — what was the teacher gonna do? Tell him he didn’t do enough physical activity? Please, Damian was shredded and could do any PFT that was laid out before him.

So if he wanted to shoot hoops with his shirt off, then he was going to shoot hoops with his shirt off. Of course, he hadn’t yet taken his shirt off; sorry ladies. Damian’s gym shirt was still on for now, covering up the best part of being in gym class, but that wouldn’t last long. “Hey, does anyone wanna do a pick up game?” He asked to no one in particular, leaving the floor open to his classmates.

Connor Prince was lounging on the wooden bleachers, disinterested as ever with the goings on in the class. He was here because he didn’t want to get fined, that was all. When Damian offered up a pick up game, he decided that he may as well make his time here interesting. ”I’m in,” Connor said, standing up from his throne of wood and hopping down onto the linoleum floor, the smack of his shoes echoing throughout the gym, blending in with the sound of the underclassmen running laps.

Damian stopped dribbling the basketball and held it under his arm instead, before he looked up at the new guy and grinned widely. “Dope. You new? I’m Damian O’Connor — former captain of the football team, now I’m a drama kid. Life is weird. What’s your story?” He asked, holding his hand out for Connor to shake with a smile that was as bright and as winning as always.

Connor shook Damian’s hand, his face still a mask of nonchalance. ”Connor Prince. I’m from New York, but my dad’s trying to keep me from embarrassing him too much, so, here I am,” Connor explained, as if it wasn’t abnormal for parents to ship their kids across the country.

“Hey, right on. My grandparents did that to my dad, too. He doesn’t talk to ‘em no more. Maybe you should take that option. From what I understand, they suck. Never met ‘em. They’re alive, though. I think? I don’t think we’d go to their funeral if they were dead… Dad might want to desecrate their grave, but I don’t think I’d be along for that.” Damian explained, before dropping the basketball, “I’ll be skins. You be shirts.”

Connor cocked his head at the boy, slightly confused. ”Y’know, we don’t need shirts or skins in a one on one, right?” Connor said, already getting ready for what he hoped would be a good game. He hadn’t had a decent game of basketball since New York. The poor kid needed a challenge.

“Yeah, but…” Damian looked around the gym, then leaned in and whispered, “_{I hate shirts, man.}” With that, Damian grinned and leaned back.

Meanwhile, Katie and Joy had merged into the school of underclassmen, jogging around the court, everyone enveloped in their own conversation. Katie glanced over at Damian and Connor and smirked. ”Hey look, it’s your new fave,” Katie teased, nudging Joy.

For an instant, Joy had forgotten about the question she asked moments ago, even if Katie might’ve dodged it too. Glancing over to her… partner? Sex mate? Boy that took her v-card away? What even were they. Joy jogged in frustration. Shaking her head from watching such a distraction, she pouted at Katie, “You didn’t answer my question, Katie!” There was an obvious expression of confliction on Joy’s face. Katie knew Joy well enough to know that her friend hated not knowing things. Especially things that involved herself. Joy was all about facts and solutions. The fact that she blacked out and probably did something that isn’t a ‘Joy thing’ to do was most definitely eating her up alive, even if she was acting like she was handling this well. At the end of the day, Joy was a teen girl who didn’t know if she was a virgin anymore.

As Joy looked away from the center of the room, Damian’s hand went to the hem of his shirt, and pulled it off, throwing it to the side before he stretched his arms high above his head, leaning to either side. “Much better!” Damian expressed happily, and it seemed like the very air around the boy had become a better mood after discarding his shirt. Fuck. Shirts. Man.

”Oh, Sadies! Eh, I mean, do you want to go? I just think it’s stupid and sexist, like, oh thanks for the scrap, patriarchy,” Katie ranted, shaking her head. She was about to continue when she looked over and saw a very ripped torso. Damian. Oh boy. Even Katie, man hater of the century, had to admit that Damian’s body was a gift from God. ”Y’know Joy, I see the appeal,” Katie noted, still watching the upperclassman.

The appeal? Joy turned her head to look back at her childhood friend playing basketball. Oh. He was shirtless. Trying to focus, but unable to look away, Joy slowly muttered, “Is it really sex —” Having not watched where she was going, Joy totally didn’t realize she needed to make a left turn like a nascar. Instead, she slammed into the wall and went down to the floor, right on her bottom. Owwwwwwwwww. My face...my ass…. my life… Girl down. “—ist…”

Katie jumped out from the pack and knelt down by her friend, smirking. ”You good Casanova?” Katie asked, doing her best to suppress the full on laughter that was struggling to make it’s way out into the world.

Damian looked stunned as Joy ran into the wall, and he gave Connor an apologetic look. “One sec, man,” Damian said, before jogging off to the fallen girl, and looking down at Joy, “Joy! Are you okay? Why did you do that?! The gym has corners, babe…”

Casanova? Babe? Joy was seeing multiple Katies and Damains. She squinted her eyes closed before opening them up again, regaining focus. “I’m fine…” Damian never came this close to her in public during school hours. The only times they did was when he asked her questions in class or that one time in the library. That was all her, though. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, guys.” Joy sluggishly brought herself up.

It was only sluggishly for a brief second before Damian reached down and grabbed her hand, scooping her up to her feet — a little too hard; Damian let go of her, but almost immediately grabbed her again. Whoops, Damian pulled her into his arms a bit. Accident? Maybe. Maybe not. “You sure? Alright.” Damian smiled, and winked at her. “Let me know if you need me then. I’ll be over there,” Damian waved over his shoulder toward the court, then leaned down and stole a kiss from his Joy.

Errr… embarrassed. Completely and utterly embarrassed. Joy subconsciously pushed Damian away. Her face beaming red. “W-what are you doing?” Everyone was watching!

Well that was a development. Damian O’Connor had just kissed her best friend. In front of everyone. What the hell kind of melatonin fueled dream was this? The shock was evident on Katie’s face, her wide eyes flicking from Joy to Damian and back again. What the fuck

Meanwhile, Damian seemed genuinely confused by the things that were unfolding in front of him. Why was Joy being weird? She was all blushy, which he kind of liked, but… she seemed upset that he’d kissed her? Hey, maybe he didn’t do a good enough job. Damian looked to either side with his eyes, before he shrugged and leaned back down, kissing Joy again, this time with his mouth partially open and his hand on the back of her head. This time, it was more like a public retelling of their library based adventure.

That better, Joy?

Joy’s mind went hazy. Was this even real? Was Damian actually showcasing this kiss in front of their whole gym class? For a long moment, she couldn’t fight back. Instead, she carefully watched him; her face heated, her expression perplexed. When she finally registered where they were, by looking over to Katie’s wide eyes and open mouth, Joy once again tried to push away from Damian but not aggressively. Only enough to free her lips. “Damian… what are you doing? Everyone is watching.” The small nerd whispered. Damian didn’t say anything, instead he just kind of… stared at her.

Katie, having regained control over herself picked this moment to speak. ”So, uhm, this might be a bad time but, well I just need to clarify something. Did you take her v card?” Katie asked in a stage whisper, using a hand to block her mouth from the prying eyes of the rest of their class.

Damian finally turned his attention away from Joy and onto Katie for the first time, listening to her question before he shook his head, “Nah, almost. But not quite. At her house we got interrupted by the kid she was babysitting… then, at the party, we got really close but she kind of puk—”

Wait did she puke? Was he going to tell the whole class she puked on him at the party?! This would be the day Joy died. Her reputation would turn into: the girl that can’t hold down her alcohol or the girl that puked on the most popular boy at this school. Puke girl. She needed to change the subject quick. She’d have to admit, it was reassuring that she was still a virgin. “DAMIAN GO TO THE DANCE WITH ME.” Fucking christ, Joy. Volume control. _{“Please?”}

Damian wasn’t used to being cut off by that, but her next words just made things… more awkward for him. Damian leaned down to be at eye level with Joy and spoke plainly and carefully, “duh, Joy. Of course I’m going to the dance with you. I’m your boyfriend… and you’re my… girlfriend. That’s also… why I kissed you. Did you not know that?”

Oh. “No. No, I didn’t know that.” Joy responded breathlessly. She and Damian were official. He was her… boyfriend. Her first boyfriend. They were dating. Gulping to herself, she came to terms with her new reality. She had a boyfriend.

Katie, to her credit, had managed to keep her mouth shut during this exchange, despite the pure surprise that had her mind racing. Her best friend was now dating the most popular boy in school. And she was going to a dance with him!

Clearly, everyone has lost their minds.