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After a few drinks, Ariana had gotten a little tipsy. Well, little was a severe understatement. She was giggling at even the tiniest of things. Hell, she even had the racially patented Asian flush™. Balance was out of the question, and so was all rational thought. That’s what tequila did to you, and it had an even bigger effect on the relatively tiny Asian girl. Alcohol was coursing through her veins, which was not the brightest idea for someone who had just recovered from alcohol poisoning.

”Dude… Wesley… where have you been all my life?” Ariana slurred, slamming the shot glass down on the counter. ”You’re a lot of fun. I didn’t wanna drink today, but now… look at me!” She smiled dumbly, before ordering a couple more shots. ”I bet I can drink more than you, though. Bet on it. If you out-drink me, I will buy you more drinks. Deal?” Ariana raised an empty shot glass up for a cheers.

“Like I said, I’ve been in the shop. I hide in there.” Wesley laughed, looking down at the small Asian girl next to him. He was quite glad he had run into her at the bar- she was really funny and a blast to drink with. Seeing her pound back shots was very different from the Ariana he had met earlier who was drinking a virgin drink, and he definitely liked this version more.

Wes replaced the empty shot glass in her hand with a full one that the bartender had just brought out for them. He took one in his hand and clinked it against hers. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” He threw back the shot with ease and for good measure, downed the second one right after. Double the fun, right?

Ariana took her shots and downed them back-to-back without any qualms. Not even a flinch before she smiled and looked at her drinking partner. She signaled for four shots total. Mama didn’t raise a bitch, and Ariana wasn’t going to be backing down now. Whoever actually gave a shit about her wasn’t going to be happy about the lack of sobriety from Ariana, but she didn’t care.

All she cared about was beating Wes, and she thought she was doing so just fine. She took the shots like a champ, winking at Wes. ”Still wanna go?”

The blonde boy took another look at Ariana. He felt just fine and knew how to hold down more than six shots, but the girl looked as though her balance was beginning to falter. Although he would’ve loved to drink her under the table- and he definitely could- he didn’t feel like having a death on his conscience. After all, he didn’t think first-degree murder would look good on his college applications…. Or when he became a doctor. “Why don’t we take a break and explore a little bit, short stuff. There's a whole party to see!”

Ariana took exactly 2.3 seconds to think about the decision to start exploring before she nodded and got off her seat. Wobbling a bit, she took another brief moment to collect herself before grabbing Wes by the arm. ”Dude, I have an idea!” Ariana exclaimed, tugging his arm toward the bar/dance floor’s exit. The greatest idea of all time had popped into Ariana’s brilliant mind, and she couldn’t wait for Wes to see what she had in store. ”Let’s head to the front of the boat. You aren’t gonna believe what I have in store.

Wes had no choice but to follow the Asian girl, as she was gripping him so tightly that he felt his circulation being cut off. She was walking so fast that he nearly tripped over his own feet! “Whoa, whoa slow down Ari the party isn’t going anywhere!” He chuckled, trying to get her to slow down. They passed right by the dancefloor, which made him wonder where they were headed. “Why the front of the boat, there’s nothing happening there?”

Ariana had kept silent as she pulled him along the upper side. She was so happy with herself, that she was giggling a little bit as she sped past the very risque game of poker blackjack going on inside the game room. Her silence was supposed to indicate the sheer genius of her brilliant, brilliant idea. Drunk Ariana was the best Ariana, ”You’re gonna love it dude,” Ariana giggled, ”Bet.”

Once they arrived at the very front of the boat, Ariana let go of her death grip on Wes’s arm. She turned around and faced him, getting real close to him. She smiled, looking up and down his beautiful, blond, white boy face.

Wes looked around expectantly once they got to the front of the ship. There was nothing special going on… in fact there was almost no one there. He noticed Ariana grow closer and closer as they stood there in silence. Was she trying to make a move? Was this her trying to get him alone? In his drunkenness, he motioned around to the lack of people around them. “There’s nothing to see here, I’m confused.”

Ariana put a finger up to Wes’s lips and told him to shush. ”Just watch.” Ariana trailed… before moving up to her tippy toes and closing in very very close.


In a very unexpected fashion, Ariana turned around and stuck her arms out like she was t-posing. ”Hold me up, Wes! Hold my arms up!” Ariana felt the very cold breeze of the Pacific Ocean on her face. But at least there wasn’t an iceberg nearby, as far as Ariana could see. On her own, she started singing, starting softly and then crescendoing and decrescendoing dramatically. ”Near, far… whereEVER YOU ARE! I believe that the heart does go on…”

Oh man. It was almost a given that someone was going to recreate Titanic on this boat, but Wes didn’t know that it was going to be him. With a small anxious laugh, he looked around to make sure that no one was watching, and when the coast was clear, he swooped in without missing a beat. Holding up Ariana’s arms, he chuckled at her singing at the top of her lungs. “How does that line go again? It’s…” He spaced out, trying to remember the famous line from the movie. In all honesty, it had been ages since he had watched it.

”I’m flying, Jack! Ariana cried out, as she went on her tippie toes and felt more of the breeze on her face. Wes wasn’t exactly Leonardo DiCaprio, but he was close enough. She’d definitely be his Rose if he’d be her Jack. Turning her head, she looked at Wes in the eyes.

”Don’t ever let go… She whispered.

“That would be stupid.” Wes replied, looking at her and noticing how close they were. Deciding to close the space, he pressed his lips to hers. Retreating with a smirk, he pulled away completely. “Come on, let’s get away from the edge before you fall in…. I really hope no one has gone overboard yet…”

Olivia, watching her bestie Josie go off like a baby giraffe taking its first steps, touched her heart with a smile on her face. Finally, she had the balls to go up and talk to a boy for once in her life. Guess her stupid little dancing technique really did work. Satisfied with herself, she went over to a nearby table to get away from the heat and stuffiness of the dance floor. Some non-sweaty air was nice. But, not having anyone else to talk to anymore wasn’t as nice.

That was, until she spotted her favorite dramamonger, Roz. She was most likely sucking in whatever she could and processing it through that brain of hers. Maybe she picked up her encounter with Roz, maybe she didn’t. Olivia didn’t care anyway. Might as well go engage her. She looked lonely… if lonely was an emotion that Roz could feel. Taking her margarita glass, she walked up to wherever Roz was located and made her presence known.

”Hey Roz! What’s going on? Olivia raised a fist at chest level for a fistbump, hoping that she would take to the gesture.

In a word, this party sucked. Sure, it was well attended by the typical wastes of space that needed alcohol to mask their shitty personality long enough to convince someone to have five minutes of regret, but it was hardly a hotbed of dramatic activity. Which, given Roz’s ulterior motives, meant the party sucked. While it was still early yet, it wasn’t all that long after the New Year’s party where she had her provocative headline and she managed to catch wind of a certain someone ‘taking advantage’ of the one student in school that people were too nice to be honest to.

The most ‘exciting’ thing that she’d caught wind of so far was a drunken douche trying to make a move on the school’s walking billboard for why abstinence is a viable choice. But no one cared about underage drunks trying to stick their cocktail sausages down a double wide bun no matter how colorful Roz made it. She had faith that somewhere someone would royally fuck up, but Roz’s patience was already at a record low given the phone call yesterday and the blatant call out today at school. Something was going on and Roz hated not being in the know.

Her hands were deep in the pockets of her vest as her ears were open for any sign of trouble, though the only thing they picked up was Olivia Lee calling out to Roz. Roz, who was in transit to a more populated area of the yacht, paused and turned towards Olivia. If nothing else, there was always the chance that other party goers had seen some juicy happenings, and Olivia was typically cool enough to divulge. Right now, Roz needed a lead. Any lead, and Olivia being one of the few people that didn’t immediately make Roz retch made Olivia a valuable potential source.

”Olivia.” Roz returned the fistbump though almost reluctantly given the disinterested expression on her face; the disinterest came well before her path crossed with Olivia. ”What’s going on? Well, you tell me, because right now it’s as dull as a history lecture. Who’s bright idea was it to have a party on a fuckin’ boat? The only people who have fun on boats are fat old people who play shuffleboard with their guts out.” Roz was even more bitter than her usual self, and her ornery ways were already dialed up. ”What’s the word, you come alone or did your date ditch your suplexing ass?”

Typical Roz. In the time that she’d known her, not once had she ever seen her crack a smile. It was the way their relationship was. Roz was quite the character, honestly. There was no pair more iconic than Roz and being some sort of stubborn. It was just the way she rolled and Olivia loved that. However, now that Olivia thought about it, there wasn’t really drama for her to divulge to Roz, beside the thing with Josie and the DJ. Might as well have told her anyway, see how she reacts.

”Me? With a date? Olivia chuckled, trying her best not to play it up and seem boisterous, ”Good one. But no. My bestie, Josie, shot off to the middle of nowhere to try to talk up the DJ.” Olivia gestured at the DJ. ”See that guy? Apparently Josie has the hots for him, but she didn’t have the huevos to go talk to him before yours truly had to go dance and embarrass herself to get her to start talking. I don’t know how it’s going right now, but knowing Josie it should be just fine.”

Sipping her margarita, she was looking for other things to talk about or potential activities to do. She and Roz were on the same boat. Both of them were alone and with not really much to do besides idle conversation, ”You haven’t seen anything even potentially juicy? Not even the girls grinding in the middle of the dance floor?” Olivia hushed her voice a bit, ”Y’know, rumor has it that one of those girls wasn’t always a girl. I don’t know which one, but that’s what’s floating around nowadays.”

As much as Roz appreciated the information she tried not to let her disappointment show; there wasn’t much there in Olivia’s gossip. Certainly nothing that could be turned into a headline. She knew this party would be a bust and already she was regretting showing up. This particular party already had two strikes against it from the start: it was on a weekday and it was only days after an even bigger party. It was like a bad sexual encounter where a guy blows and doesn’t bother with a refractory period before trying to go for round two. She could’ve been at home right now. She could’ve been enjoying a cheap beer and watching old nature documentary tapes, but here she was miserable and on a fucking boat.

”There’s nothing juicy about girls grinding against random dick, Olivia. It’s like...you know what a mandrill is? Monkey, weird colorful shit on the face? Watching these thirsty slags grind against whatever dick they can convince to pop their cork for five disappointing minutes is like watching a mandrill present itself for a mate.” Roz really would have liked to have something to sip following her little diatribe, but she settled for a minor pause as she internally thanked the fact that for the longest time her television only got an offshoot of The Discovery Channel.

”And that rumor? So what? Good for her for being herself. I ever know who it is, I’ll buy her a beer.” Roz wasn’t in the business of badmouthing people for their orientation or gender, that wasn’t the point of her blog. Sure it got carted around as being nothing more than a tabloid rag but not once had she run an article insulting people for who they fucked. It was about revealing the character of the popular crowd and the unrepentant, unforgiving so-called elite of the school. She wasn’t above calling out shitty behavior from someone that wasn’t in the top one percent of course, but the goal had always been cutting the rich fucks down to size.

”Face it, Liv, this party sucks. If I wanted to be on a boat with a bunch of spoiled white fuckers I’d go watch Titanic. At least that’s got tits in it.”

Olivia shrugged. She knew whatever information she had wasn’t going to be enough, anyway. But, something was better than nothing. There was probably more shady shit going on, but neither Roz or Olivia had the power to see it. They were both bored out of their minds. Nothing was happening and nothing was going to happen unless someone decided to be dumb.

”I’m just spitballin’. Nothing’s happening, dude, whether we like it or not.” Olivia sighed and rubbed her temples, listening to Roz’s little comment about going to watch Titanic. ”Bet you there’s gonna be someone who reenacts it.” More than likely someone had already done so. The question was who, though? Did anyone here besides Roz and Olivia even know what Titanic was?

They weren’t dealt a good hand for this party, but that was typical. Not as many people knew Roz as much as Roz knew people. ”I wish we had like a deck of cards or something. I know there’s a game room upstairs.”

When Olivia followed up the Titanic comment with one of her own, Roz scoffed in response which might well have been the closest she’d come to cracking a smile tonight. There hadn’t been much call for smiles today which was shocking given that when she woke up this morning she was in a rare good mood. Maybe she should’ve gone to the bar and got a beer but she doubted the bar here had the real shit; these people probably drank their fancy IPAs brewed in fucking Belgium or Germany or, worse, a Pabst, because their spoiled tongues couldn’t handle the taste of anything that costs less than ten dollars. So rather than being bored and annoyed with a beer, she was simply bored, annoyed, and sober.

”Yeah? Which part you think people are reenating? Because it sure as shit isn’t a rich cunt mingling with a lower class immigrant. I wouldn’t mind people reenacting the part where everyone fuckin’ drowning and freezing to death.” Roz might well have been coming off a bit harsher than normal but she spoke with the honesty befitting her current state of mind.

With her mild annoyance aside she inclined her head towards Olivia. While the idea of there being a game room was laughable - who came to a yacht to sit on their ass and play video games when they could do that at home - she had to admit she didn’t have any better ideas. ”A deck of cards, was it?” From her vest pocket, Roz pulled out a deck of cards like she was a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. ”I’ve got the cards and I’m bored enough to use them. What’s the game and what’s the prize?”

Scoffing at the morbid comment, Olivia rolled her eyes. ”Water isn’t too cold right now. I don’t see any icebergs anywhere even close to us.” It was blatantly obvious that Roz wasn’t exactly the happiest of people right now, but Olivia felt that she could change that with her own genius and willpower.

Watching Roz pull a pack of cards seemingly out of nowhere, Olivia widened her eyes in surprise. Speak of the fucking devil. Well, now came the task of formulating what to play. There were two of them, so far, and a whole deck of cards. However, Olivia only knew how to play a handful of games. She was okay at poker, but an absolute demon at speed (dependent on whether or not she was dealt a good hand, of course). ”Well… uh… there’s only two of us… so I guess speed or poker can work? And I don’t have any cash on me, so I can’t really bet cash with you. So, uh, you got any ideas, Roz?”

Ideas were all Roz ever had and most of them were terrible but she did them anyway. Two people playing cards was rarely any fun unless it was those weird card games with the dumb monsters on it that the nerds play. More power to them for their weird game but Roz was of the mind that the best card games were the ones where you won money not kept spending it just to stay competitive.

”I’ve got an idea, but I don’t know...I don’t think you can handle it.” Roz was clearly hooking a worm on the fishing hook; it might not have been necessary but if she’d learned one thing in her years at Beverly Hills High it was that insinuating cowardice was a surefire way to get someone to agree to something. If she learned two things, the second would be that few of the students even knew what insinuating meant. ”It’d be better if we had more people but hey, I ain’t picky. You don’t got cash or gossip but you do got clothes. You in?”

It was a bold idea, but it was the only one that would’ve worked. Olivia had nothing else to offer than herself. There wasn’t really much that Olivia couldn’t handle, as a matter of fact. Taking her clothes off in a game room where mostly everyone was at least some form of intoxicated was nothing to her anyway. It wasn’t like she was in spandex whenever she was in the ring. It wasn’t going to be anything out of the extraordinary. Much worse was seen here than what Olivia wore.

Olivia shrugged, ”Yeah, whatever. I’m in. It wasn’t what Olivia wanted, but it was sure better than sitting around and watching people get their freak. ”Just follow me, Roz. I think I know where it is.” Olivia took a moment to locate the door she had walked through a while ago, before setting off towards it.

Roz deposited the deck of cards back into her pocket with a rather nonplussed shrug about her. Playing strip poker was a common enough party activity but there were usually more people involved. Olivia was no slouch in the looks department, but strip poker with two people was a quick game given Roz’s habit of winning. To make it interesting she would likely have to throw a few games, which she was going to do anyway as it was the best means of hustling.

”Who knows, maybe someone seeing you strip down might make people join in. But I promise I won’t post pictures of it online. I’m shit at photography anyway.” Roz followed along after Olivia; if nothing else the game would be amusing and a needed distraction. It might even be fun if fun were something Roz considered when going to parties. ”And for the record, jewelry and shit doesn’t count as clothing, so don’t be putting up a necklace when you’re down to a bra or something.”

Was there going to be some hustling going on? Probably. Did Olivia care? Not really. All that she cared about right now was just having something to do and finally having someone to keep her company at this dumb ol’ party. Listening to Roz talk, she realized her dilemma. She was wearing a dress. There was only underwear underneath this dress, so that meant she’d get naked fairly quickly if she lost.

Turning around to face Roz while she was walking, she lifted the skirt of her dress. ”This is all I have on. I’m going to be in my undies pretty quickly if you keep winning.” Olivia then winked and turned back around. Along the way, she passed a group of students who weren’t really feeling the party either. Or they were feeling the party way too much, considering the sudden cloud of cigarette smoke. Arriving at what she presumed to be the game room, Olivia peered inside the window to see if the coast was clear. It was. Putting her hand on the doorknob, she twisted and the door had revealed a modest game room. There was a table that was perfect for what they were doing.

Taking a seat at the table, Olivia looked to Roz. ”Go ahead and deal and shuffle and whatnot. You’re most likely way better at it than I am, anyway. Olivia sat back in the chair, hoping to god that she wasn’t going to take three Ls in a row.

There was something to be said about not giving a shit about dress code; while some might have dressed a bit fancy for the occasion - the occasion being the world’s most boring boat tour, Roz never was one to stand on ceremony. Compared to Olivia’s dress, Roz was like Fort Knox. Aggressively black jeans with shoes that wouldn’t be out of place at a punk rock show, a black shirt with a vulgar phrase written on it in big font, and the Roz standard of a black vest. It would’ve been more if she had worn her leather jacket but some things were best left behind.

It did create a bit of an issue, two people was already a rather low number but now just to make the game last longer than ten minutes Roz would likely have to intentionally not cheat and throw a fair few hands. A bridge to cross when it arrived.

Entering the game room, Roz first crossed over to the far side of it, towards a minibar that, thankfully, wasn’t completely empty. A half-finished bottle of whiskey that was too good for these bougies was now Roz’s for the night. She joined Olivia at the card table, sitting opposite her as if she were a dealer in a casino. ”The name of the game is poker, the goal of the game is to keep your top on. Hold ‘em rules apply, none of that five card draw horseshit.” As Roz acted a dealer, she was shuffling the cards and dealing accordingly,two cards to the players, three up cards in the flop: a six of hearts, a seven of clubs, and the king of diamonds. ”You much of a card player, Liv? Never struck me as the type.”

Laurel wasn’t normally one to venture out to a party. Sure, she would’ve loved to always be present for the drama, liquor and sexcapades, but anytime someone decided to throw one, she was booked. Laur usually had intensive practices or away competitions on the weekends, so it was a rare occasion that she could attend any of the gatherings that her peers held. But tonight was different. Somehow, it was if her coaches were intuitive enough to know that the party of the year was being held on the evening they cancelled practice. It was a godsend, a blessing in disguise.

She arrived on the boat no later than everyone else, got herself a Gin Fizz, and proceeded to explore the yacht in her own fashion. It wasn’t every day that you got to go to a party on the boat of the richest kids in school, and Laurel was definitely going to make the most of it! There would be time for dancing later, but for now the blonde just wanted to take everything in and memorize every detail. She passed room after room as she fought her way down the crowded hallway. Some had the sign in sheets- which she thought was just an invasion of privacy- others were just empty, until she stumbled upon a door that was slightly cracked. Peering in, Laurel gazed at the modest game room and two people sitting at the table beginning to play a card game.

Now, Laurel was quite the competitive girl. If there was ever an opportunity to win anything, she was there. It didn’t matter how small or how stupid the game was, Laurel always wanted to prove she could be victorious. Overhearing that they were playing Poker, the blonde girl knew she wanted in. Entering the room with her drink half finished, she looked over at the ladies sitting at the table and smirked. “Got room for one more?”

Olivia watched Roz deal the cards like this was Las Vegas. Even though nothing of real value was at stake, her heart was still pounding. She was like that for every competition. Hopefully she’d do some damage to Roz before she lost herself. If she knew strip poker was on the table then she would’ve dressed a little more appropriately.

”Yeah, I like playing cards. I don’t know how to play all of the games, but I like playing the ones I do know how to play. How about you, Roz?” Olivia asked curiously, as she took her cards and glanced at them. The cards looked promising so far. However, she was debating on her strategy. Did she want to fold? Or did she want to call?

Before Olivia could formulate her decision, she turned around to the sound of the door opening. A girl walked in and she already knew that she wanted in. Olivia pulled a chair out and gestured to it, ”Sure. The more, the merrier!

”Uh, back to our game. I think I’ll call.”

It didn’t matter what cards Roz had, she had every intention of throwing this hand and likely the next one, though to sell the illusion of playing she had a look at her cards. With the middle she had a pair of sixes. Not exactly a hand to go all in on but one that she could probably bluff about, had she been playing for stakes other than skin. ”I don’t carry a deck of cards because I think it’s stylish. Sometimes I’ll get Lucky to play a couple rounds but for some reason any time I ask the elite types they don’t wanna go.” Roz had never once asked any of the outwardly wealthy students to play cards, but it made for an amusing little anecdote.

Roz hadn’t been expecting a third player but she wasn’t about to turn down someone that wanted to join in the festivities. Unless of course they were a member of her ever growing Shit List but as far as she knew, Laurel wasn’t on it. Gymnastics nut, if she was remembering the names correctly. Between a wrestler and a gymnast, suddenly Roz was feeling a tad bit conscious about her own physique, which wasn’t awful but she wasn’t exactly going to be doing a routine on the parallel bars any time soon.

“Olivia says you’re in, then you’re in. Grab a chair and unhook your bra, chances are it’s coming off.” Seeing as the game wasn’t trading in money, Roz quickly shuffled the not-in-play-yet deck and dealt Laurel in, two cards face down. ”You in or you out, Handspring?”

Graciously, Laurel nodded and sat down at the seat Olivia had gestured to. It took her a second to decode Roz’s words, since she hadn’t realized this was a game of strip poker, but nonetheless, that wouldn’t have scared her off even if they were trying. Besides, she had worn a cute lingerie set tonight and this was the perfect opportunity to show it off. Taking a peek at her cards, she looked up at Roz, “I’ll call.” Laur stated, leaning back casually into her chair.

Looking over and realizing she left the door wide opened, she let a laugh escape her lips. “Maybe we’ll get some more players… or an audience.” She mused, tossing her hair behind her left shoulder. Laurel wouldn’t mind in the slightest if people came in to watch; she worked hard to keep this figure and she sure as hell enjoyed when people complimented her on it.

Olivia had a jack of hearts and a king of clubs. With the way things were going right now, Olivia was confident that she was going to win this hand. She looked at her hand once again just to double check what she was up to. Nothing but good feelings for the wrestler. Taking a look around the room, it looked like they had a good cast to play with. Maybe more would join. More potential for stripping and less potential for Olivia to lose all of her clothing.

”Neither of ya’ll are big poker players, are you?” Some of the blame could be leveled on Roz for assuming that everyone worth a damn knew the rate of play, but poker was a game about betting increasing amounts of money. Money wasn’t on the table in this game. They didn’t even have chips or a buy in or a pot. ”There’s no bet to call. Calling means you match the bet. Like if Handspring here bet a shoe, calling means you bet a shoe while raising means you bet something else on top of it. Here, gimme your cards.”

Roz scooped up the cards in the middle and began to shuffle the deck again. A better idea was popping into her head, one she could still cheat at but one that would be slightly more fair even with cheating. ”I assume you both know how to add, right? Twenty-One, no need to bet with that one. You know Twenty-One, yeah? Blackjack? Works like this, two cards to start, you wanna get your cards to be as close to twenty-one without going over. Simple.” Roz was shuffling and dealing the cards out, Two face up cards to Laurel and Olviia, one face up card for herself with a face down card as well. Roz’s face up card was a ten of diamonds.

”Here’s how it works, players - that would be you two - against the dealer - that would be me right now. If dealer wins, both players drop a piece of clothing; if either player wins then the dealer has to drop some fabric. We’ll swap who deals every round just to make it fair. Olivia’ll go first, then Wannabe Exhibitionist over here will go next. Good? Good. Hit or stand, Suplex?”

Finally, a game that Olivia actually knew how to play well. Poker wasn’t her strongest suit, but she still could’ve hung. Olivia looked at her new set of cards. A ten and a two. If she got a nine it would be perfect. But, there was still a small chance that she was going to bust, and a bigger chance that she was going to fall short. She rubbed her temples, thinking pretty hard for just a second.

”Hit me.” She said, tapping the table like she’d seen in movies. She hoped to all the higher powers that she was going to get a nine.

Roz quickly looked at her one facedown card, keeping it to herself even while going so far as not to react to it. The downfall of amateur players was a terrible poker face, which Roz couldn’t claim to have. At least when it came to actually playing poker. “Alright, it’s your funeral, Suplex.” Roz dealt the card with a swift hand. “What’ll it be, then, hit or stand?”

It was another two, which put Olivia in a very sticky situation. She didn’t want to lose and be the first person to take off a clothing item. She looked very hard at Roz, then back down at her cards. 14. If she got anything above a seven she would bust. The wrestler had much more to lose than everyone else here, so she was at an impasse. Finally coming to a decision, she tapped her hand on the table, ”Hit.”

The next card was dealt… and it was an eight, which immediately busted Olivia. She put her face in her hands as she realized what had just happened. ”Oh, fuck! Well… there goes my shoes…”

As much as Roz appreciated the enthusiasm and far be it from her to correct someone that was prepared to lose some clothing - as innocent as a shoe was - she broke her poker face to scoff at Olivia while gathering the busted cards to the discard pile for the next game’s shuffle. ”As much as I’m sure anyone with a foot fetish around here would like to see it, you’re clear for now. Remember: if dealer wins, you both lose, but if either of you win then the dealer loses. So if Handspring over here beats me, you’re safe, otherwise it’s skin time. But if you wanna take your shoe off, I ain’t gonna stop ya. It’s a bit borin’ but I can respect the hustle in making us work for it.” Roz took a swig from her snatched bottle of whiskey before turning to the third member of their little skintimate party. ”Your move, Aly Raisman. Hit or stand.”

Laurel didn’t bat an eyelash at the change of game- it truly didn’t matter what they were playing. The only thing that mattered was either one of two things: getting to show her lingerie set off or seeing these other two ladies strip. In her books, it was a win-win! With a smirk, she looked down at her two cards in anticipation of winning. A four and a five. Believing she could do better, and there being a pretty good chance of getting close to twenty-one without going over, Laur looked back up at Roz (who was admittedly doing quite well with the gymnastics puns). “I’ll hit, please.” She replied, sickeningly sweet.

”Lady wants a hit, lady gets a hit.” Roz was clearly enjoying dealing the cards even if she couldn’t quite yet stack the deck in her favor. Cheating on the first hand was certainly in the textbook but for this first hand with one of her opponents already out Roz figured it was highly likely that she could win without resorting to her standard mode of play. Roz dealt a card to Laurel with a snap of her fingers. ”No pressure or anything, but if you lose here poor Liv over there is one step closer to giving us all a glimpse that even spandex couldn’t hide.”

Olivia was posting her head on her arms, elbows on the mahogany trim of the poker table as she gave Laurel a death stare. According to Roz’s house rules, whether or not they took their clothes off was all up to Laurel. No pressure. ”Laurel, for the love of god, please get an ace.” Even though her face was all smooshed up, she was still trying her best to put all that pressure on Laurel.

The blonde looked over to Olivia, who was not helping the situation, and glanced back to the card. Instead of looking at what it was when she flipped it over, she looked up at Roz, raising a single eyebrow in the process. Once a second had passed, she let her eyes drift down to see her fate. It was a fucking six. Dammit. With a huff she looked back up at the dealer with a shrug. “It’s not over yet. Whatcha got sweetie?” Laurel asked, in reference to the cards.

”I take it you’re standing, then? Fair enough, you’d have to be insane to hit on fifteen.” Roz taunted with a smirk, knowing full well the outcome of this round of cards. Using her one up card of ten, she tucked it under the face down card and flipped it up, turning over her card to reveal a three. Roz looked at Laurel then at Olivia then gave a little shrug of her shoulders as she flicked her palm over the deck of cards. Quickly, she slid a card not from the deck in play into her hands and played it face up. ”Well ain’t that about a bitch. Looks like it’s your lucky day, Liv.” Roz’s card was another ten. ”Dealer busts.”

Roz, who might well have been one of the first people to cheat her way into a loss, gave another shrug before swigging at her whiskey. ”Fuck it.” Though she left her vest on - of course she would being as she loved her vests - Roz slipped her arms through the holes of her shirt and, with some awkward shuttering and shaking, took off the undershirt and left casually tossed it aside, leaving Roz wearing pants and a rather plain, cheap looking bra that was hardly covered fully by her vest. ”Who wants to deal next?”

“‘Cuse me.” A distant, mellifluous voice could not be heard over the booming of the music. Squeezing her way through the crowd, Honey Dalton wanted to see what all the commotion was about. People were seeping out of the game room to get a peek on what was on the inside. Before reaching the front to see the scene for herself, she asked a stranger, “Hiiiiiiiiii.” The virginal neon fairy was still very drunk. “What’s happen?” For the first time in awhile, as far as the night goes, she was standing in one place and could feel how unsturdy she was. Balance was failing her. She waited for the guy’s response, patiently-not-so-patiently, all the while contemplating her drunk stupor.

“Hot girls stripping. You should join them, you’re pretty hot.”

“That’s just silly!” Not waiting for his response, she continued to push through the crowd until she finally was at the front of the audience. Her heart stopped when she saw who was playing. If her cheeks weren’t already heated with color from the alcohol, they were sure burning fiery red now. What she didn’t realize was the moment she came to the front, she added glow to the general vicinity. Shiloh’s clothes was bright as hell.

”Oh shit! We won! Olivia jumped out of her seat and put her hands on her head before attempting a high ten with Laurel. Olivia’s shoes were safe. Mary and Joseph, she had done it! Now she wasn’t going to be doubting her fellow strip blackjack player anymore. Once Roz chucked her shirt away, she put her hands back on the trim.

”I’ll deal next, then it’s Laurel.” Olivia stood up and walked over to wherever the dealer was supposed to stand and traded spots with Roz. Taking the deck of cards, she took the cards back and started cutting them in her feeble attempt to shuffle. After a good seven cuts, Olivia felt it was good enough to play. She dealt everyone two cards, before getting herself set up. Looking over her current opponents, she smirked. ”So… Laurel… whatcha feelin’?”

Laurel perused her cards, and faked a pensive moment in thought. In actuality, she had pretty good cards, a seven and a queen, and wasn’t planning on taking anything else on. Looking up at Olivia, she smirked. “I’m standing.”

Nodding, she looked over to the half-naked Roz. ”Okay. How about you, Roz? You ready to keep your pants on or take them off?” Olivia smiled, knowing that she might have that comment bite her in sometime later down the line.

“Take them off! I mean… let’s go, Roz!” Honey had no filter. What was this? All she knew was she wanted to be Roz’s number one cheerleader. SHE WAS GETTING NAKED. It was like her fantasies were coming to life, right before her eyes! The only issue was, she couldn’t see straight. That Zombie was really putting her through a runner.

Before Roz decided what to do with her cards, which were a seven and a seven, she turned her gaze towards the entrance area of the gaming room; a little bird had been chirping and Roz distinctly heard her name being spoken - distinctly at that. But not much else beyond that, though the sight did come damn near close to making even Roz crack a grin. ”Lookit that, we’ve got an audience. Good thing your shoes stayed on, Liv, otherwise they’d all see your cold feet. And I’ll stay. Fourteen is just eight away from people seein’ my ass and why risk that.”

But I want to see your ass… Honey pouted to herself.

Olivia nodded at Roz’s response and looked down at her own card. She had a measly two. Putting her hand on the facedown card, it was revealed to be only a three. So, she had five. Another hit, and that put her to thirteen. She couldn’t stay as she was exactly two short of beating Roz. Taking the next card, it revealed itself to be a nine, which automatically busted Olivia.

Her face was as white as snow when she realized that she busted. ”Fuck… there goes my shoes…” She said, reaching down to take her heels and chuck them to the side. ”You’re up, Laurel.”

How lame of the Asian girl. Taking off her shoes, while Roz boldly took off her top under her vest. Roz was amazing. Sure, losing meant there would be more… to see… BUT, winning meant she was kicking ass. Cheerleaders got to support no matter what. Smitten. Honey was smitten, as she focused in her heart’s desire.

Laurel scooped up the deck of cards and began to shuffle the deck, breaking it a least five times in order to ensure the cards weren’t going to give anyone an inherent advantage. Dealing two cards to each player and then to herself, she looked up at Roz. “What’s it going to be next, Roz? You going to follow suit and take off your shoes or are you going to spice things up a bit?” Laur asked playfully, looking around at the people who had trickled in to watch them. The more the merrier!

Roz shook her head a moment as she observed Laurel’s shuffle; it was at least better than Olivia’s but it still hurt to see her cards being handled by what could only be considered amateurs. That train of thought remained fully in the station as she looked at the cards dealt to her. A seven and an eight. Decent, sure, but now she was faced with a conundrum. If she lost and Olivia lost, that meant Laurel would be the only one at the moment who hadn’t lost. Hitting on fifteen was usually a bad play, and given that she was dealt cards face up there was no good way for Roz to cheat here.

”I’d take my shoes off now and still take something off if I lost. Shoes are one step above watches and bracelets on the scale of ‘doesn’t really count’.” As if to prove a point to no one in particular, Roz used her right foot to hold the heel of her left shoe which she promptly slipped out of - and then repeated the process for her right shoe. ”I’ll stick with what I’ve got. Someone around here’s gotta be fearless.”

Watching Roz remove her shoes, she shrugged. ”Well… y’know… I got this dress and it’s one piece so if I lose again I’m gonna be just like Roz without pants. I should not have worn this today.” Olivia looked at her cards and found herself in a favorable position. She had an ace and a nine, which put her at twenty. Taking her hand and waving it horizontally, she decided to stay. ”I’m gonna stay.” There was no way Laurel was going to win now. They both had way too good cards to lose.

Unbeknownst to herself, Honey was creeping closer to the table so she could hear the conversation better. Part of her was happy she looked nothing like herself, because no one would recognize her as the DJ’s little sister. Tonight, she looked like a pretty rave girl. Like her father had heavily suggested, the bubbly girl was going to ‘let loose’ and right now she translated that as gawking at Roz’s body.

The blonde sighed, looking over the cards laid out on the table. Glancing down at her two cards, the one that was face up was a nine, so not bad, but the one facing down was a two. Not good. Laurel hit a card down, which was a three. Shit. Looks like she was going to be taking something off at this rate. With nothing more to lose at this point, she hit another card. A ten.

Laur sighed. “Well ladies, looks like you’re about to see some lace.” Standing up with absolutely no hesitation, she crossed her arms and gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one fell swoop and revealing her grey lace bra underneath. She twirled the shirt above her head once for dramatic effect and sat back down. She may as well put on a show, right? With a laugh, she pushed the cards over to Roz. “All you, Roz.”

”Well if there’s one thing we’ve learned tonight, it’s that Olivia’s the timid one.” Roz took her place again as the dealer and shuffled the deck of cards like she was paid to do it. She didn’t have to cut the deck but she did add a few flourishes, like fluttering the cards between her palms and dealing them to Laurel and Olivia with a quick flicking of her thumb. Roz’s face-up card was a queen and when she looked at her face down card it came with a whistle. ”Well, it’s a good thing one of you is comfortable showing something because you both just got dealt a bad hand.” Roz flipped over her face down card; the ace of hearts. ”Blackjack. Dealer wins. Sorry, Liv, but looks like you’ll be joining us in the bra brigade.”

“So cool…” Honey whispered to herself, before immediately changing her volume, “ROZ IS KICKEN’ YOUR GUYS’ ASSES!” Emergawd. She said ass. Would daddy be happy or disappointed? Well, in this moment, she didn’t care. Roz was literally the coolest person that ever existed, ever.

Jesus. Olivia had gone from being the most dressed person to the least dressed person in this room. She didn’t even have a chance to look at her cards because Roz had already won her hand. She made a long sigh and made a face of contempt at Roz and her perfect hand. Well, she figured that comment she made earlier had come back to bite her in the ass. Standing up, she reached up to her shoulder strap and pulled it off really slowly. She might as well roll with the punches and make a show out of it.

Reaching another hand to her shoulder, she pulled the other strap off and started to gyrate her body to get the chest part off of her. The fluidity of her movement was a huge indicator that she had done this before, but truthfully she hadn’t. It was just what years of wrestling and other martial arts did to someone, and Olivia was repurposing her skills for this very moment. It felt like a strip-tease, which was nice to anyone who happened to be watching, but Olivia was honestly just taking the piss out of people. Feeling her dress slide down further her body, it soon exposed a jet black lace bra, which was pretty much cleavage city.

After that, she let the dress slide off her hips to show off her accompanying black lace panties before she stepped out of the now empty dress and put it aside. ”Happy?” Olivia gestured to her body. The true extent of Olivia’s fitness was revealed with how rock hard her abs and how toned her legs and arms were. She shooed Roz away and got everyone all set up again, dealing and all that fun stuff. It was cold.

Laurel laughed, realizing that Liv was a tough act to follow. Simply slipping off her skirt to reveal grey lace underwear, she turned to Roz. “Alright, Roz, you definitely are too clothed for this.” She mused.

Roz could only shrug at Laurel’s comment, though not before pointing towards the audience - specifically the one that was making her voice heard above the whispers and people prodding each other in the elbow to remark about the underwear show going on. ”Seems some might disagree with you there, Laurel. But it’s not my problem ya’ll are shit at cards.” Before switching dealers, Roz made sure to shuffle the cards properly so her eyes wouldn’t have to bear witness to a murder yet again. ”Good luck, Liv. You’re dealing and you’re running out of options.”

Olivia leaned down and gave Roz a death stare as she looked down at her cards. Right now Roz was the one with the biggest target on her back. Suddenly, this wasn’t too much fun anymore considering how close Olivia was to revealing her sexy bits. ”So, Roz, hit or stay? Better pick the wrong one.”

Roz snickered behind her now depleted bottle of whiskey. Some people just weren’t cut out for strip gambling, though even Roz couldn’t have predicted there being a little audience and cheering section. They were all wannabe adults here, and she was sure everyone watching had seen worse on the internet. Roz looked at her cards. Ten and two, definitely on the low end. ”What’s wrong, Liv? You seem upset. We’re all girls here, ain’t we? It’s just underwear. You and Handspring here are flexing your fancy lacy unmentionables - kinda shit people only wear if they want it to be taken off. I did ya’ll a favor. And you can do me one back by hittin’ me.”

Roz’s third card was a king and her tongue clicked the roof of her mouth as she busted over by one. ”Well, shit.”

“ROZ.” Laurel huffed, knowing that she was that much closer to taking something else off. She had only planned this far, since she didn’t think she would have to strip completely naked. What else was she supposed to strip? With a deep sigh she looked at Olivia, knowing very well she had a six and a four. All she needed was a face card to save the round, and she was willing to take that risk. “Hit me, Liv.”

Olivia nodded and dealt Laurel another card, which turned out to be a measly five. She tsked and looked at the nearly naked Laurel and smirked. If she fucked up, something else was going to be coming off. Hopefully it’d be that bra, but it’d probably be the shoes instead. ”What are you feeling, Laur?” She smiled, holding the deck in her hand, ”No pressure.”

Laurel pensively stared at the card just dealt. There was still a chance, but it was slim. Very slim. But, the thin ice she was on was already cracking, so why not take a risk and see if it pays off. “I’m feeling like seeing another card, I’ve got nothing more to lose.”

Olivia dealt a card and Laurel had busted. The math didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it definitely exceeded twenty one and that Laurel was going to have to take off something else. Olivia grinned and looked at Laurel. She knew how she felt, but Olivia couldn’t help but to laugh. ”Oh shit, Laurel!”

Oh shit was right.

With a sigh, Laurel had already made up her mind on what she was going to take off. It was sure to be a crowd pleaser. With some flair, she stood up, reaching down towards her underwear, but at the last moment, passed them and took off her shoes, the one thing she had kept on the entire game. Ha! She certainly fooled them. With a smirk, she looked at Liv. “Just following your lead, darling.”

Olivia squinted. ”Touche…” Olivia then switched to a smile and chuckled. Damn, no nudity right now. The wrestler was looking forward to seeing something but it wasn’t going to happen just yet.

Roz looked around the table, and at the audience that had built up around them, gears turning in her head that might well have been partially activated by the whiskey she had drank during the duration of the game. Her eyes watched as Laurel teased the audience, and masterfully at that, which led Roz to making the ultimate decision. It wasn’t really strip gambling if the only strip stopped at a PG-13 rating. ”Bad at cards and modest. Strange combo, you two.” Roz decided to have her fun; it was her idea to play the game so it was only fitting that she give the people what they wanted. Was that not the first rule of journalism?

Roz slid her vest off and for a moment she could hear the disappointment in the air, but it lasted just long enough for Roz to reach behind and undo the hooks on back of her unflattering peach-colored bra. It joined her shirt on the floor. Roz, now sans a top, put her vest back on, which offered little in the way of coverage but at least kept her partially clothed. In the loosest sense of the word. ”You’re welcome.” Her words were loud enough for the room to hear.

Honey’s face was radiating heat like a hot pan. Jesus. Her father did not prepare her for something like this. Literally a live action wet dream. She could most definitely feel her heartbeat. Nothing about its beat was steady and the pounding felt like it would rip out of her chest. Boom, boom, pow! There was no rescue to how flustered, how squirmy, how weird she was feeling. Along with flustered, most definitely horny. Virgins were the horniest of girls, after all. She couldn’t take it anymore.

With confidence only given to her because she was intoxicated to the point of no return, Honey made herself known out of the crowd, going straight to the table, complimenting her crush, “Herro, Rozzie!” Herro? “I love, love, loveeeee your vest.” And everything that was underneath it. Was she even thinking before she spoke? “Can we… hang?” REALLY, HONEY? That’s the best you got?! Hopefully she’d say yes…

Roz raised an eyebrow as the loudest little cheerleader stepped forward; though the girl was blushing more than a hooker in church, Roz attributed that to the clearly drunken state the girl was in rather than the fact that Roz was in a state of undress. If nothing else, though, the drunken hot mess had an eye for style. ”Yeah, alright. You look like you could do with some air anyway.” Roz had nothing better to do anyway, might as well make sure a drunk student didn’t do anything too embarrassing.

Snatch! The girls weren’t aware that under the table a little redheaded freshman had slipped her way in and started stealing their clothes, not really having time to pick and choose. It was easy to crawl past the crowd and under the table. Everyone was distracted by the ballsy girls taking their clothes off, especially that glowy girl. Everyone was practically nakey by now. If Truly Bliss wanted to successfully hide from her beloved, she had to disguise herself. Become someone totally unrecognizable!

Somewhere along her travels, she obtained a bag and was slipping the easier stuff in it with hyperactive speed. The dress, the shirt, the pants, the bra — all in the bag. The shoes (so many shoes), she would have to stuff in it at the top or try her best carrying them all. When there was a will, there was a way. Trust that True would find a way. She always does. For now: Snatch! Did she care that she was stealing? Not really. They obviously wanted to be naked. Perhaps, they could consider this charity work! She needed their clothes and they needed to be in the nude. When she got everything she needed, she continued on her escapade (hide and go seek with her love). Next stop: Somewhere to change! Run awayyyyyy. Nothing to see here.

True, you thief.

Rotating once again, Olivia had momentarily forgotten where her dress was, so she looked down around the poker table. Nothing. Not even her shoes were there. Maybe she chucked it away? Olivia then took a quick gander around the room to not only see the absence of her clothes, but also Laurel’s and now Roz’s as well.

”Uhh… guys? Where’s our clothes?”

---

---

This was not ideal. Olivia thought it would be all fun and games in this room, but now after having all of their clothes disappear, things weren’t so fun after all. Running around the room in her undies, Olivia looked in every single nook and cranny that was possible to find her dress along with whatever else everyone else was wearing.

Now usually, if this was the summertime, it wouldn’t be so bad. But this was a boat in the Pacific Ocean in late winter. It wasn’t exactly beach weather, and Olivia (and surely the others) really didn’t feel like catching pneumonia. ”I could’ve sworn our shit was right here!” Olivia scratched her head, before turning around, ”Any ideas, guys?” The fighter was sure that it wasn’t a plan by one of them. So who would be dumb enough to steal the clothes of some of the toughest girls on campus?

Oblivious to the temperature of the room because she was one, still glowy clothed, and two, drunk AF, Honey leaned in closer toward Roz, not quite hearing that she agreed to ‘hang’ in the form of going out on the dock for air. The chatter was loud, since the girls still had a fair audience. Most enjoying the fact that someone stole their clothes. Someone in the crowd most definitely saw a tiny redhead crawling under the table, but that someone also didn’t care enough to stop her because naked girls for an entire boat party was far more rewarding than them clothed.

“Roz, did you lose intentionally so you could show some skin?” The dimpled blonde, whose smile was child-like and unbelievably sweet, with face point on that made it seem like she was wearing a glow-in-the-dark masquerade mask, innocently batted her light brown eyes. Even though outwardly, this sounded like her flirting, internally she was curious like a curious cat because based on her observation, Roz looked like an experienced card player, like her dad and uncles. Good poker face, a few tricks up their sleeves, and a winner’s demeanor. The loss didn’t add up unless it was intentional. For her, perhaps? Don’t get too excited, Honey Girl. Roz is just good at putting on a show. A show she was lucky enough to watch.

Such a lucky girl.

If the mood of the room was annoyance and anger, then Roz didn’t get the memo. Of the ones who had risked their skin in a friendly game of cards, Roz was somehow showing less than the others while also showing more. Her vest was doing a poor job at covering her very topless self but she at least still had her pants on; this was probably for the best as, like her bra had been before it was whisked away, her panties were not exactly built for showing off. In light of the incident, Roz had more immediate concerns to focus on, what the hell did she care if an old bra and an older shirt were stolen. At worst it’d fetch a few bucks. For Roz, what mattered wasn’t her revealing outfit, but the fact that there was a very drunk girl who was in need of supervision. Given the sorts of people on this boat, Roz wasn’t about to throw the girl to the wolves. Or the Sharks.

”Intentionally lose? Does that seem like something I would do?” Of course, Roz did in fact intentionally lose a hand but that was before she had the vocal cheering section of one. Luck of the draw was not in her favor tonight, though with a deck stacked towards the others how could it have been? ”And suppose I did. Lose intentionally. I seem to remember someone saying to ‘take them off’ but maybe I’m misremembering. Chalk it up to the booze, yeah?” Roz was almost enjoying the little side conversation, at least enough to give it her full attention. Whatever her fellow strippers-in-arms were talking about might as well have been a foreign language where Roz was concerned.

Patting her flushed cheeks, caught red handed from fangirling moments ago, Honey rested her cold hands on her face and cutely blew her bangs out of it. Roz was too smart for her own good! Or less drunk. Probably not drunk at all. Sighing in defeat, Honey admitted to her bold actions, “Even if I didn’t drink, which hey, Zombies are really good, but like, really strong, like so strong, it wants to make me dead, I’d still cheer you on! MAYBE less obvious. MAYBE less ballsy. But, and this is a big BUT, I’d still cheer you on.” Was this inadvertently a confession? Honey didn’t know. She was just being honest. Jax told her if people couldn’t handle the truth, they weren’t worth your time! Man, now that she thought about it, her brother was kind of cut-throat growing up… brutally honest, but honest nevertheless. Honesty was the best policy. No matter how sharp or dull it it was.

Laurel exhaled loudly in disbelief of the scenario they were currently facing. Well this was just great!

Not.

Gambling was a win or lose, and in this situation, she was most definitely losing. Not only was she nearly naked, but her clothes- not to mention one of her favorite outfits- had vanished. They say in Casinos that the house always wins, no matter how much you gain, and that saying rang true right now. Turning to Olivia as her cheeks began to grow redder, Laur nervously bit her fingernails and spoke. “You could’ve sworn? It’s either the clothes were there, or they were not, there’s no in between.” She replied in a huff. Standing up and looking around, she tried to see if anyone was playing some sort of sick prank on them. “Ha, ha, very funny guys. Now give us our clothes back.” Laurel spat at the crowd, to which she was met with empty gazes and the shaking of heads.

”They were there. I’d bet my panties that they were literally at our feet.” Olivia got up from looking underneath a couch of some sort and shook her head. ”I think we’ve got ourselves a thief, folks. Now the question is… who?” Olivia put her hands on her head and started walking around again. ”Can’t be that hard to spot a yellow dress, though. I think I’ve got an idea.”

Olivia ducked inside the bathroom for just a second to look for towels. Not those pussy ass small hand towels, but the big boy full-sized ones. It took her a cool forty-five seconds to finally find a stack of these towels, before she walked outside and handed one to Laurel. ”This is gonna be our ‘dress’ while we hunt this fucker down. Got it?”

Whatever was going on at the other side of the table was their business; of the three who had been victims of grand theft clothing, Roz was the least concerned. She had almost wanted to smirk at it all; wasn’t it Laurel who had mentioned hoping for an audience while the game was in its infancy? And yet now it was all panic and fluster. Roz was noticing a bit of a trend. So many liked to talk the talk but when it came to actually backing up the words, it was as disappointing as this party. Well, as she was engaged in a conversation that was at least a few notches above worrying about crappy clothes, the party was looking up just a tad.

”Is that right? You sound like a fan, but unless I’ve got some double life I don’t know about, I ain’t exactly done anything to gush over. No sports, no nothing. Ain’t even at the top of the class. You must be drunker than you look if you think I’m worth cheerin’ on.” Roz wasn’t quite sure how to take the information that she had a cheering fan; if she ever needed to start a fan club at least she knew who would make for a founding member.

“If anyone’s told you you’re not worth cheering on, they’re buttcheeks.” Honey made a grumpy face, before shaking her head in disagreement, “Heyyyyy, I may be drunk but my daddy says a drunk mind speaks a sober heart and I’ve never, ever, ever told a lie before!”

Looking over to the perturbed girls, Honey tilted her head in confusion, “Here take my hoodie.” She tossed it at the blond. Technically it wasn’t her’s to give, but hey, “I can get a new one! No biggie.” Shi would forgive her. With her jacket now off, her shoulders and stomach were bare and exposed. Her strapless sports bra only covered so much, but she didn’t care. People could get a better look at the universe on her skirt!

Not really explaining what she liked about Roz, Honey bounced up, yes, her chest also giving a little bounce, and she grinned down at her crush, “I want more drink. You should come with me!”

Laurel was about to put on the towel as a pseudo-dress, but was eternally thankful when Honey threw the hoodie at her. It may have been sheer, but it was certainly better than nothing. Nodding in appreciation, she slipped the holographic fabric over her shoulders and zipped up the sweatshirt. Now calmer, she attempted to think of at least a semblance of a plan. “I guess the only thing we can do is go and look. We’ve got nothing less to lose.” Replying to Olivia with a smirk, she glanced over to Roz. “Hey, you coming?” She asked, running a hand through her hair.

Watching Honey chuck her weird sweater thing at Laurel, Olivia finished putting on her towel-dress. Looking over at Laurel, she nodded in agreement with her plan. ”Sounds like a good plan to me.” She tightened the dress and made sure it wouldn’t accidentally fall off before gesturing to the open door. ”Whoever I find is gonna like… get it.”

What an odd sort this drunkent hot mess was. Who said ‘buttcheeks’? If Roz had to hazard a guess, and she was, she was dealing with someone who might not have been used to alcohol or the vibe of parties like this. As much as she liked to claim she knew everything about everyone, there were some gaps in her knowledge. Roz figured it was a good thing that she didn’t immediately know everything about this girl. That way she could be surprised, pleasantly or otherwise. The surprise came when she tossed a hoodie to Laurel which was probably not a huge, grandiose gesture but it was a nice, charitable gesture all the same and that was rare enough by the students of Beverly Hills High to impress Roz. Roz was so impressed that her eyes didn’t so much as glance when Honey did a little bounce, they were on Honey’s face as if Roz were trying to get a read on the girl, to see what she was like outside of the drunken antics. Honest, potentially altruistic, there was something there, a diamond in the outhouse that was this entire school. Curious.

“Am I coming?” Roz finally took a moment to break her gaze to the others in the game room, specifically to Olivia. “Not unless you take my pants off too, and even then I don’t think you’re quite up to the task. Nah. What I’m doing is going. With her.” Roz gestured with her head towards Honey before turning back to face her once more. ”Someone’s gotta keep her from getting into trouble. You kids have fun with your naked shit, I’m sure you’ll find someone out there thinking of you in their rooms tonight.”

---

---

Suave Steve. Hot Steve. Sexy Steve. Swaggy Steve.

Yung Steve was feeling himself at this party as usual. Free drinks was a surefire way to make sure he showed up at any school function. Either that, or a promise that he was going to be able to perform his bangers. Obviously he wasn’t performing tonight (thank god), so he was taking advantage of the free drinks. Yung Stevey was a rum and coke kind of guy, that being 99% coke and like three drops of rum inside. The only thing lighter than the living legend himself was his tolerance for alcohol, and a drunk Yung Steve wasn’t exactly the best kind of Yung Steve. Not if you liked your shoes barf-free.

He was bobbing his head to the killer tunes. They weren’t bad, but the aspiring rapper knew that he could do better. He knew some of his tunes would really liven up the place, but little did he know that it would only be because of the beats and not the lyrics. Taking a meager sip of his “rum and coke” he continued to relish in his own company. People slept on him, and that was okay. He just wished that people slept with him instead.

Seeing Justin Quentin, the recently promoted quarterback pass by, Yung Steve couldn’t have passed up the opportunity to call him over. The first man to hit up his local quarterback? He didn’t mind if he did… even though if he actually wasn’t.

”Yo Justin! What’s up, bro!

Justin heard his name over the music somehow, and turned around to see that it was Yung Steve. Oh boy. Discount Yeezy over here wanted a piece of him. He didn’t have a problem with Yung Steve as a person, but his tunes - well let’s just say that Justin thought that he would be able to produce a better product after some milk and a couple of minutes on the toilet than however long it takes for Yung Steve to make a so-called “banger”.

He couldn’t turn down Yung Steve though. There was no reason not to, and now that he had made eye contact with him. Walking over to his table, Justin dapped Yung Steve before he returned the question that everyone asked but nobody wanted to truly answer.

”Ah, y’know. Just getting turnt… getting my drink on… ya feel me?”

Yung Steve raised his glass and stuck out his tongue to emphasize the point that he was getting ‘turnt’. Justin chuckled sheepishly. He was going to raise his drink, before he realized that it wasn’t exactly smart considering the drink that he had. It was a strawberry daiquiri, with more strawberry than alcohol in it. It wasn’t exactly the most manly of drinks, and Yung Steve apparently thought the same about his drink.

”Yo dude! Is that a girl drink! What the fuck, man? I thought you were some big baller like Lonzo.”

”What? This drink? This isn’t mine. I’m just holding it for someone, if you catch my drift.”

Yung Steve blinked for about two seconds, before nodding and pointing toward Justin.

”Ahhh I see… my boy Justin over here getting it! Damn that’s wassup!”

Holy shit. The lie actually worked. Just how dumb was Yung Steve? Justin couldn’t believe that the lie actually worked. Now what was he gonna do? The conversation appeared to grind to a stop, which left Justin and Yung Steve at an impasse. Justin was going to take this opportunity to exit the conversation and leave Yung Steve by his lonesome.

Yung Steve really did think that Justin was holding a strawberry daiquiri for someone. Why wouldn’t he be? He was one of the coolest guys alive. He was the only person to help Yung Steve out when he lost out on that football clout after being cut from the team. He had nothing but respect for his quarterback.

”Alright Steve-”

”Yung Steve, but go on.”

”Right… Yung Steve, uh I’m gonna head outside and just get some fresh air. I’ll check you later, man.”

”Wait shit, no way? I was about to do the same thing!”

Justin internally rolled his eyes, but externally he flashed a smile, an awkward one, but it was still something. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t just leave Yung Steve hanging but he didn’t want to be tied down by him either. He might as well have stuck it out and actually gave the poor kid some attention. Nobody else was going to, so it was up to him to be an upstanding member of the community and take one for the team.

”Tell you what. I’ll meet you outside. I’ll catch up with you… I just gotta find the girl that this belongs to.”

”Alright man, suit yourself! I’ll catch you outside.

As soon as Yung Steve departed from his table, Justin stared him down until he left the room. At that point, he pulled the straw of his strawberry daiquiri out and downed it as fast as he could. That wasn’t a good idea, and his body told him so almost immediately. Feeling the wrath of brain freeze was no bueno as he put his hands up to his temples. He waited just a bit before it subsided, exhaling before he left the dance floor/bar.

Stepping outside, Justin came to see that Yung Steve somehow got his hands on a football. The quarterback was confused, but he wasn’t going to question it. The bigger question was why the air smelled faintly of vanilla and cigarette smoke, but that was something he decided to forgo in lieu of Yung Steve.

”Yo Justin! Catch!”
Yung Steve threw, or at least attempted to, the football. It wasn’t exactly the best throw he’d seen. As a matter of fact, it was just straight up awful. It was wobbly and the ball wasn’t even pointed toward Justin. The quarterback did still manage to catch it, though.

”Pass it back, my dude!”

Yung Steve hopped up with his hands in the air, not realizing that he wasn’t in the proper position to catch the ball. Justin sighed as he took the football in his hand, getting warmed up as he was going to get into a game of catch with Yung Steve.

”Alright. Coming in hot!”

Justin turned perpendicular to Yung Steve, planting his lead foot down pointed toward Yung Steve as he wound up his arm behind him. Justin then opened up his hips and brought his arm over, following through and bringing his thumb to his pocket as he threw the football to Yung Steve.

Watching the ball sail, Yung Steve was tracking it perfectly, stepping back to give himself room. He really did look like he was going to catch it, until he didn’t. The ball met his hands, but Yung Steve couldn’t coordinate his hands to grip the ball. As a result, it bounced straight out and onto the deck.

”Good throw, dude! I’ll get it next time!”

Taking the football, Yung Steve just flung the ball forward which lead to an absolute duck. Justin caught it with ease, though. The display right now would explain exactly why Yung Steve didn’t make it on the football team. Repeating the same motion, Justin threw a slightly softer ball toward Yung Steve, which he still managed to drop. It was like Yung Steve’s hands were made of butter. No. Actually, butter got sticky, which would do a better job than those things Yung Steve called hands.

”I swear, Justin, I’m gonna make the team next year! Bet on it!”

Justin laughed as he received the ball from Yung Steve, before holding the ball to respond to Yung Steve’s ridiculous comment. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He saw birds with better hands than Yung Steve, and birds didn’t even have hands.

”Alright dude, I’ll be sure to throw to you the most!”

The starting quarterback was painfully aware that he was inflating Yung Steve’s ridiculously inflated ego, but he also didn’t want to be a party pooper. For the time being, Justin was just going to have to live with Yung Steve’s antics.

”Hey guys, mind if I join?”

Brianna had emerged from seemingly nowhere, stepping up to the boys who were playing a game of catch at a party. Nothing better to do, huh? It’s okay. Brianna didn’t have anything better to do either anyway.

For Justin, Brianna was a godsend. He didn’t really know much about her besides that he thought she was a guy earlier in the year. However, he- er she was bound to have better hands than Yung Steve. Justin pivoted and threw the football to Brianna, who caught it perfectly. Thank god, someone who could finally catch.
Brianna then threw it to Yung Steve, who actually wasn’t quite that bad at throwing. Taking a closer look at her, Justin realized where he recognized her from. Yung Steve, of course, failed to catch the ball.

”Hey… aren’t you that girl who hangs out with the Combat Club? Like with Owen and them? Not the tall chick... uh… Brianna, right?”

”Yes sir. You got that right.”

”Oh shit. That’s cool, dude. Those people in the Combat Club are some cool people.”

”Oh fuck! You’re part of the combat club?

Yung Steve hurled the ball to Justin in an embarrassingly terrible motion, before turning to Brianna who had formed a triangle between the three.

”Those dudes are my boys!!! Especially Owen.”

”Wait… you’re that rapper? Lil Steve?”

Yung Steve had the most perplexed look on his face as Brianna mislabeled him. He looked at her as if she had murdered his dog in front of him. How dare she? How dare she slander the name of Yung Steve? Damn it, another sheep that needed education.

”No. It’s Yung Steve. Not y-o-u-n-g, but y-u-n-g.”

Brianna raised her hands apologetically for getting Yung Steve’s name wrong. Seems like this guy carried himself seriously. She respected the hustle, and to a lesser extent, the attitude.

”Alright Yung Steve… why don’t you drop some bars for us? Use my name and Justin’s name as part of the lyrics. Justin can bring some beats.”

Justin promptly pulled out his phone and went on YouTube to find some instrumental. Something heavy with bass just like Yung Steve’s style. He finally found one and cranked his phone to max volume. The three stepped in closer to hear the bars and the beat faster. Yung Steve did a little weird ass dance to get warmed up as he was formulating the lyrics in that weird mind of his.



A glass of milk was all it took to make something better than Yung Steve’s raps. Justin and Brianna were trying their damndest to avoid laughing at how bad these bars were.