WAIT, NO.

Sam was bailing on her now! What was Kit supposed to do?! She was trying to attach herself to Sam so she could lean on her tonight! Kit needed an adult, and someone to hang out with! All she’d done was show her a dick pic, what was the big deal?! Sammy was hot and tall and had eye catching assets! She’d seen a dick before! Right? Kit was chasing behind Sammy as they wandered through the boat together.

“Sammmmmyyyyyy, don’t leave meeeeee. I’m scared!” Total bullshit, sure, but Kit figured it was worth a shot. Samantha Lassiter would surely take pity on the small, scared, confused, blonde, dependent Kit. “There are a lot of big, intimidating, terrifying people at this party. And, ahem.” Kit gave a little cough, trying to draw attention from the more immediate matter of her ‘needing’ Sam.

“I can’t drive, and the Doc is surely gonna be asleep when this boat re-docks. Speaking of, when is the ship gonna go back to port? It feel like we’ve been at sea for like two months!” Kit shook her head, drawing back to the important point: “Sammy, I need a ride.”

Every single fiber of Sam’s being was telling her to ignore Kit and to keep on walking. Her idea of a good night definitely didn’t involve looking at dick pics from Henry and she didn’t even want to know why Henry was sending those pictures to Kit. Just keep walking. When Kit said she was scared was when Sam stopped walking away and at that point her fate was sealed. Sam cursed under her breath, hating the fact that her loyalties made her somewhat predictable. Kit might’ve been young but technically she was a friend.

Sam was disappointed that the truth turned out to be a bit more selfish but then this was Kit she was dealing with. If someone was going to try and mess with Kit, Sam would have no qualms about stepping in much as she wouldn’t have any problem if her other friends had trouble - though her other friends could likely take care of themselves. ”It’s a nice night out, the walk will do you some good.” Sam had stopped long enough for Kit to catch up but that didn’t mean she was immediately going to swap to agreeable.

”If you stick to the sidewalks you’ll probably not get accosted or anything.”

“I live like twenty miles from here, dude! Plus, I’m small and insignificant. I’d definitely get accosted by some ruffian, who would fuck my shit up.” Kit claimed in protest, frowning up at Sam. “I don’t wanna get my shit fucked up!” Geeze, maybe Sam was the wrong person to ask. She could always ask Henry, but now that she’s seen his dick, would he be willing to drive her places?! Did he even know!? Those were questions meant to be asked and answered during science class, not during a high pressure situation like finding a way home.

Kit ran a hand through her long blonde hair and looked up at her friend. Way up. “Sammy, when did you get so tall? Did people expect you to get that tall, or were you just like BOOM! one night and you woke up and none of your clothes fit and you were screwed? That would be the worst thing…” Kit frowned. The truth was she did need a ride home that night, but there was a little fear in the back of her mind.

“I am a little scared of something. See, earlier tonight, I ran up to Selena Sterling and kissed her, because I was in love with her. It sucked, and then I ran away. So, anyway, her friend Jamie was there, and like… Well, they’re kind of mean? So I’m a little worried that they might be mean to me, if they catch me alone on the ship.”

”You cheated on me?” Sam saw an opening and went for it; even though she was mildly annoyed at the bait and switch she couldn’t just not make a comment when the opportunity presented itself. ”Here I thought our kiss meant something. I grabbed your ass and everything and you go on to kiss some...skank? We’re so over, Kit.” It was a good thing Sam was talented when it came to fighting because her acting left much to be desired. If nothing else, her mood was slightly better and thus more equipped to handle Kit.

”You kissed Selena Sterling, you’ve got a dick pic from Henry Green, you wanted me to grab your ass in front of people, at this rate by the time you’re a senior you’ll have starred in Beverly Hills High’s very first gangbang. Well...maybe the first one on film anyway.” Were the students responsible for Kit’s growth? Probably, but Sam was probably one of the better influences there could be. That was probably why Kit came to her for a ride. Either that or Sam was just the closest potential option.

”Twenty miles? You got twenty bucks on you?”

“No, I use Google Pay to pay for everything with my phone, I’m not some kind of savage. The Doc might have twenty bucks on him, I can ask him when we get there. Gangbang? It would be much of a bang, since it’d be me and girls. Henry’s taken, so all I’m gonna see is the dick! Plus, I don’t want Selena that much anymore. I kissed her and now I guess magic is gone? Because she just seems normal now. Also, Sammy… I kissed Selena first, so if you think about it, I cheated on some skank with you.” Kit explained, winking up at Sam. “If I don’t have twenty bucks, can I just let you touch my butt some more? That’s a thing girls do, right? Grass, gas, or ass, as the sticker says.”

”That saying doesn’t mean touching ass, it means fucking it, dude. Not specifically ass just, like, sex in general. I’m not gonna have sex with you in exchange for driving you home, do I look like fucking Shauna Flynn?” Now that Sam mentioned it, she was surprised Shauna hadn’t already gotten to Kit. Kit was just Shauna’s type: a Freshman. But she digressed. ”Also, your butt isn’t worth twenty miles. I would know. So you don’t have twenty bucks and I’m not sleeping with you...I dunno, Kit, this doesn’t sound like I get anything out of it.”

“No, dude! Shauna sucks, she's already tried to mack on me twice now, but I have a will of solid adamantium. Uhm, what do you mean my butt isn't worth twenty miles?! That's mean…” Kit sighed in utter misery. Why was Sam driving such a hard bargain? Just give Kit a lift, damn. She blew a long lasting raspberry, before looking up. “Uh… What if I sing karaoke with you again sometime?” Worth a shot!

”Done. No take backs.” When Kit mentioned karaoke there wasn’t any hesitation on Sam’s side of the table, metaphorically speaking of course. The news about Shauna going for a swim in the kiddie pool didn’t come as a surprise; if Sam had been around she probably would’ve gotten a bit slappy but fortunately Kit had a better head on her shoulders than some. ”I’ll wait for you by the exit plank when we dock. Don’t be late. Oh, and for the record, I was gonna given you a ride anyway.”

“Whatever man, karaoke was ace anyway.”

Flashback...

The profile of Henry slowly shifted to the profile of a pink haired girl walking into the ladies room at the Tuesday night boat party. Rose wiped her eyes, coming back to reality from her random stupor. Maybe he was right. Maybe she should cut back on the weed and live. Maybe she shouldn’t take the back seat and actually drive (metaphorically speaking, since she drove her friends most of the time).

Take action. Call the shots.


Even so! He, that damn Henry, was living too hard! That’s the main reason she distanced herself from him in the first place. They came from two very different worlds. He was uncontainable and in the spotlight, and she watched and created amazing things, behind the curtain. Yes, they both had a pretty penny but without his mother, her parents wouldn’t be where they are today. She owed a lot to the Greens. Henry and her? They grew up. They lost their rhythm because they didn’t see the same things anymore. They weren’t little rascals dreaming fantastical things anymore. At least, he wasn’t. They both, however, wanted more than what money could give them.

Carpe diem.

Breathing in and then out, Rose set on a new mission. A mission where she would no longer hide behind a flower. No longer use herb as a coping mechanism. No longer be afraid to stand out, when she was someone who stood out without even trying. No, she would show her worth as Ilyana and take advice from an old friend and: live.

That girl with pink hair knew how to live. Shiloh lived freely and in the moment, all day, everyday, just like her parents and uncles had raised her to. Right now, she was living somewhere else other than earth, but she was no less living. Unaware of comings and goings of other ladies in the stalls, including one very familiar blonde, Shiloh stared enraptured by her own reflection in the mirror. Originally she’d come here to pee, of course, and also to touch up her glow paint and fluorescent lipstick before heading back out to the party. Shi had gotten one swipe of the lipstick on and had begun to press her lips together to blend it when she became distracted, still holding the liquid lipstick wand upright in one hand with the open tube in the other.

Eyes that were once a cool, crystalline blue were now blown wide with darkness. Dilated black pupils dominated her irises and stared back at her from the mirror, like inky black pits leading to the abyss. Shi stood on her tiptoes, the front of her thighs pressing into the countertop softly as she leaned so close that the tip of her nose nearly brushed the surface of the reflective glass. The entire universe was in those eyes. Those eyes that weren’t even her own anymore. Sprinklings of stars and swirling galaxies were in their depths. ^{“Am I an astronaut?”} Shiloh whispered a question to no one in particular, her breath fogging up a small patch of the mirror as she did so.

Behind her, Rose’s heart rate picked up. Her breathing matching the pace. What was going on in her head? Shiloh was a close friend. Her parents knew her parents and they found some kind of friendship in their oddities. Truly, only Rose could do this with someone she had some sort of connection with, a connection similar to her connection with Henry, but healthier. “Why not be a star?” Rose whispered, not expecting the token pink-haired girl to respond.

Too impatient to wait, because that isn’t what Henry would do, Ilyana turned her friend around, pulling her away from the mirror. Using her friend’s ass, she let it swipe the forgotten makeup tools on the counter and to the floor.

Hot.

The platinum blonde pushed her friend up against the counter. To her surprise, Shiloh was easy to manhandle. The rest, she let instincts take over her.

Carpe diem.

While her right hand felt Shiloh’s gorgeous pink hair, her left hand ran down her neck, to her chest, to her stomach, until she allowed her delicate, warm lips to make a trail on her neck. Her hot breath blowing against the girl’s slender neck. Eventually, Ilyana’s left hand found Shiloh’s right hand and as a result, she interlocked their fingers.

Kissing all over made sense, because kissing was fun, as Wyatt put it. She would kiss Shiloh, like it was nobody’s business, because it made sense. Her lips suddenly, and fiercely, pressed against Shiloh’s glowing ones.

It was soft. Passionate. Even, lustful.

Ilyana’s hand that once touched Shiloh’s hair, now slid down the surprised girl’s body until it was around her waist, pulling her closer, and letting their womanly forms press against each other. Hey, she wasn’t bad at this. Unbeknownst to Rose, she got this from her mother. There was no thoughts in the initiate's mind. Just, the moment.

She was living.

One minute Shiloh was an astronaut in space, and the next she found herself suddenly and forcefully back on earth. It wasn’t an unpleasant trip, it was actually quite the opposite. In her shock at being groped and turned around, Shi gasped. When Rose’s lips found her neck and kissed trails along it, Shiloh gasped again and also dropped the lipstick tube and applicator she’d been holding in her hands this time.

Whoa, this was new.

For as long as she’d known Rose, the girl had never shown any kind of romantic interest in anyone. Shi had pretty much assumed that she might be asexual… so this… well, this was surprising. What was even more surprising, was how good she was at it. Riding the vibes of her high and this sudden bout of lust from her friend, Shiloh tilted her head back and hummed out a pleased moan. “Mmmmm, Rose?”

Shiloh tried to establish some kind of understanding of what was happening. What did this mean? Why was Rose doing this? Had Shi missed some kind of secret crush all of this time? She’d had no idea! Instead of granting a verbal response to her question, Rose kissed her. On the lips this time. Okay then, that was that, right? Shiloh pushed aside any attempt at trying to understand why it was happening, and simply enjoyed it for what it was. This was a party, she was high, Rose was hot, and her friend, and she was kissing her. There was really nothing to complain about, these were all good things.

Shi moved her hands to the other girl’s cheeks and held her face gently as she kissed back, for the first time being more proactive than reactive in the kissing. She wanted to do more, to touch Rose back, to explore new territories on her friend, but she still had some reservations on whether or not she was allowed to. The blonde could be fickle, and flighty, one wrong move and Shiloh could accidentally scare her off, she knew that. Rather than follow through on her lust, Shi reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, her hands still softly against the other girl’s cheeks. “...Rose?” She asked again for clarification, her voice now more raspy and breathless.

Ilyana didn’t think she’d get this far. Somehow, she did. Whether it was her sudden burst of confidence or her remembering things she’s seen in the past, here she was, kissing a friend, like Henry did on New Years.

Inviting and resolute, Ilyana locked her gaze with the girl questioning her intentions. “Ilyana.” was her response to the ‘Rose’ question, as a form of correction. She was ready to go by her first name, Ana for short. A change was on the horizon, and she was digging it.

Her cheeks did have an attractive rosiness, which showed she was either hot or embarrassed, but her eyes read: I got this. After a moment of silence, Ilyana gave a cheesy grin and made her voice deeper when she voiced, “I’m Batman!” Before cutting their moment short, pulling away, and running out the bathroom.

Flighty indeed.

They’d talk about it tomorrow.

---

---

Clearly, this situation was bad enough that it warranted an immediate conversation (plus she knew Josie wouldn’t pull her away from Trev if it wasn’t important), so Sav cut right to the chase. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt or injured or bleeding?” She asked quickly, checking her over for any bumps or bruises.

Shaking her head, her coils getting messed up as she ran her hand through her hair shortly after, Josie began pacing. “No. No. No physical injuries… Just-” Pausing she tried to think of how to even start, her mind was all over the place as everything continued to replay in her head. Specifically the kiss… if it was that.

“There was a boy. DJ. Talking, flirting,dancing, kiss. Sav, I don't know what to do!” Josie started to explain normally but quickly it turned into her rambling out words related to everything that happened. She was a mess right now.

Three words stood out in that sentence as Savannah let her jaw unhinge and fall free from her upper lip. DJ. Flirting. Kiss. Of course the one night that the redhead could not wingwoman her best friend was the evening where sparks flew! “I’m sorry, WHAT?!” She exclaimed a little too loudly, as she noticed the people around them giving the pair dirty looks for causing a scene. But Sav didn’t care, this was major!

She tried to remember who the guy at the DJ booth was, but to be honest, all she was focused on this evening was Trevor. A million questions poured out of her mouth all at once. “Who is he? What does he look like? Did you get his number?” Savannah stopped herself shook her head, realizing she should just let Josie do the talking instead. “Sorry, too many questions. Just take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

Josie did as Savannah told her, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes as she let the breath out. Starting from the beginning, Josie was able to calmly recall everything that had happened between her and the blonde DJ. From her glances to finally meeting at the bar to them going to the dining room. Through the explanation of the dancing she began to slowly get more panicky, especially as she explained the moment shared and then immediately lost. But as she drew to explaining the closet, she had to pause as she began to pace again. “Oh god… oh god… then the closet… and the kiss. Savvy, I just… we… I…” The dancer couldn’t even form a coherent thought as she thought about her first kiss and the lip ring, oh god the lip ring.

Coming to a stop, Josie leaned against the wall and put her face in her hands as she took a few deep breaths. “We heard two loud voices approaching the dining room and Jax said he didn’t want to go back to DJing yet and said he wanted to spend more time with me. So I did an impulsive thing and dragged him into the small supply closet in the dining room. It was so much smaller than anticipated Sav… we were squished against each other and when he turned his head… hislipsendeduponmineforlikethewholetimewewereinthere!” Josie’s last words ran together as she once again freaked out, but who could blame the girl. It was her first kiss and it wasn’t even expected, plus that boy was sending her so many mixed signals that she was just confused and lost.

Sav listened intently as Josie described everything that had transpired- this was some exciting stuff! It also sounded quite romantic and sexy, the dancing in the dining hall sounding like something out of one of the sappy movies the two always watched. But evidently, her friend was more anxious and overwhelmed than excited, so Savvy was going to try and talk her through this as best as she could. She was no love doctor, but now that things were seeming to move in the right direction with her ginger mister, she was a bit more qualified to give some advice. “Sounds like one hell of a first kiss…” She breathed, a small laugh escaping her lips as she tried to diffuse the situation. With another deep breath, she placed a comforting hand on Josie’s shoulder. “How did you guys leave it? Did he say anything or?”

Josie’s eyes widened, “I totally just left him hanging! I told him I had to go and got out of there asap. I didn’t even get his number Sav. Oh my god. What have I done? Probably ruined the only chance I had with him. You are gonna marry Trevor and have cute adorable red haired babies and I’m going to live alone with a 100 cats! I’m doomed!” She cried out the cat statement and got looks from people nearby but ignored them as she leaned against the nearby wall and slid down it until she was sitting on the floor, her head resting against the wall.

“Josie…” Sav sighed, taking a seat next to her anguished friend on the floor. “Sweetie, you did not ruin your chances, and you’re not going to live alone with 100 cats!” The redhead lovingly moved her friend’s head from the wall and rested it onto her shoulder, cushioned by the cardigan she was wearing. The last thing she wanted was for Josie to start banging her head against the wall in panic, which Sav knew she would do if the situation called for it. “The night is still young- what’s stopping you from approaching him and asking for his number? He’s going be DJ-ing for the rest of the party!”

“I would make a fool of myself and become a stuttering, flustered mess. That was my first kiss! You know for the longest time I expected it to be someone different and here a week after he is gone I find Jax and he actually shows interest in me… then bam he takes my first kiss in a complete accident then just acted like it didn't happen! Sav why are boys so confusing?!!” Josie turned her head and buried her face into her friend's cardigan. She just wished they were easier to understand especially Jax. What was it about the boy that drew her to him so much but also just confused her!

Sav shrugged, “Sometimes, Jo, what you expect and what you get are two different things…” Comforting Josie as she buried her face in her cardigan, she wrapped an arm around her friend. “My first kiss was at a county fair- I thought it was going to be magical and perfect, but it really wasn’t. At the end of the day, It was just a kiss. You’re going to have to kiss a lot of frogs in order to find your prince, and you’ll know it when you find him, so don’t worry. If Jax is the one, then thing will work out.” Savvy replied, rationalizing the situation. It was true- you get this feeling when you know you’re with the right person- Sav got it with Trevor.

This is one of the many reasons Josie and Sav were perfect friends. When Josie found herself if situations that overwhelmed her and got her overthinking everything, there Sav was to rationalize everything and bring Josie back to the ground. Bringing her face out of Savannah’s cardigan, she turned her head to just rest it on her friend’s shoulder. “Why do you always know the right thing to say? I swear I’d end up going insane if it weren’t for you Sav, absolutely bonkers.” Josie let out a sigh as she thought about what her friend had said. She just needed to not worry, what is meant to be will be.

The redhead laughed, “I doubt you would go insane- maybe a little crazy, but insane is a stretch.” Sav looked to her friend. “If you like Jax, then I say go and get him. Go find him- ask for his number. If he doesn’t want things to be that way, then fine, you’ll move on, but what’s the hurt in trying?” She questioned, hoping her friend would gain the courage to find the DJ and sweep him off his feet.

Standing up Josie offered her hand to help her redhead friend up, “Okay. I will do that but only if you promise to tell me everything about what you and Trevor have done so far tonight later.” She winked at Sav with a playful grin, finally back to her normal self after having her little freakout.

Taking her friend’s hand, Sav smirked. “Deal.”

If she knew there was a room like this, True wouldn’t have stolen other people’s clothes. Dropping the backpack and shoes on the ground, right near the entrance, her innocent mouth agape, True tread slowly into the dungeon inspired room. If you wanted to find out the Helmsleys had kinks, this was not the way to find out. Truly Bliss could not put a name to any of these things like the St. Andrew’s cross or the spanking bench. There was a cage, ankle cuffs, plenty of discipline weapons, and a section with a large display of costumes. Weird. Why did Ryan and Adelaide Helmsley need any of these things? Unless there was an animal they needed to tame.

As she made her way to the costumes, her hands glided over the tools, that she had no idea was used to give pain and pleasure to someone. She’d have to ask her brother later about all these things. What intrigued her the most was the throne, all these other devices in the red light dungeon she could care less about. The throne, she knew exactly what it was, and wanted to sit on it. But first, she had to look at her disguise selection.

A police… a nurse… a nun… a cat… a maid… a cheerleading outfit that said daddy on the top… leather… more leather…. True decided to try on the naughty schoolgirl outfit that had green, which she thought would look best with her red hair. The little freshman had no idea all the outfits were designed for a red haired woman. Adelaide was after all Irish and her signature mark was her gorgeous, long red hair. Quickly, she threw off her sweater, unbuttoned her blouse, pulled down her knee length skirt, and tried to see if the outfit would fit her. Luckily for her, the mistress of the boat fitted her costumes a size smaller so that her boobs would ooze out of them, for True, though, the Miss Behave outfit fit perfectly. Okay, maybe it was a little big in the boob area, because True’s boobs were still coming in, but still! It was leather at the top and leather snuggled against the body. No one would notice it was slightly bigger than her tiny frame.

Checking the mirror, True blushed with how different she looked. This was something she’d never be caught dead wearing! Why would someone wear something like this anyways?! It was really revealing and like not exactly accurate to actual school girl uniforms. This didn’t make sense! And yet, she liked seeing herself in it. This was a good different. Taking off her glasses, True stepped closer to see her face. Absentmindedly, she placed her glasses to the side and decided she should give herself pigtails. Fortunately, there were plenty of hair accessories and jewelry by the vanity. Humming to herself a tune, True did her hair, having to squint here and there to make sure there wasn’t any unnecessary bumps.

Ah-hah! Perfect.

Okay, now she was ready for the throne.

Wyatt had been on a journey. He’d been all over the boat, searching for his mysterious red head. After scowering the party, he finally found himself below deck, but still, no redhead in sight. Well, not the one he wanted at least.

As he searched below deck, the curly haired stoner found a door, slightly ajar, red light pouring out. Curious, he poked his head in, to see True, atop a throne, dressed in some school girl outfit, surrounded by sex toys. Okay. This was unexpected, though surprisingly to Wyatt, not unwanted. Maybe it was the weed, but he was kinda into the outfit.

For a moment, a long moment, True forgot what she was originally doing. She was supposed to disguise herself so that she could hide from — Shit! How did he find her?! Her blush seared through her cheeks, she needed to think fast. To continue to hide? Or to pretend? Even if she hid, she had no idea where there was a guaranteed safe zone, so instead, trying her best not to squint her eyes at her crush, she cooly said, “Good evening, Mr. Durand, I’ve been expecting you.” Okay, she’d just go with a meme and see where that takes her. Maybe she’ll be able to slip past him again.

A game of cat and mouse!

But for now… to add to her game of pretend, she lifted her right leg and brought it over her left. Long, nice, slender, out for display, with nylon to tease. She was the villain in their story, muahahahaha! Did she have any idea what she was doing? Nope! However, she’d act like she wasn’t going in this blind; like she knew she was the boss (when really she was just an innocent lamb).

Wyatt chuckled a little bit. Was she legit? This night was slowly getting crazier and crazier, but thanks to the high levels of THC in his bloodstream and a general lack of impulse control, Wyatt rolled with it. What was the worst that could happen. He sheepishly stepped into the red room, shutting the door behind him and running a slender hand through his mop of dark hair. “Uh, hey,” he said, his face heating up with embarrassment. Wyatt was never a womanizer, always steering away from cheesy one liners, going for a more awkward approach. It worked, I mean most of the time. Wyatt hadn’t been tied down in some time, but he’d been around the block more than once.

How was she supposed to respond to that?! If she moved from the throne, she would lose power in the situation. The throne was her safe zone, she decided. Crossing her arms, almost expectantly, she carefully watched her crush, at least to the best of her capabilities since she was kind of, sort of… blind. “I wasn’t really expecting you.” Truth. Yeah, she was hiding from him but she didn’t expect he’d find her, in this red dungeon. What were the chances? “I will, however, grant you permission to see me.” A mischievous smile appeared on her face. “So tell me, do you like what you see?” Wowzer. Where was all this coming from? The magical attributes of this throne were uncanny.

Wyatt grinned, strolling across the room. This girl was different than the one he’d met earlier, he could tell. She was more...confident? Empowered? It was strange. Maybe that was just the weed talking. “It’s dope,” he said, before pulling the note out of his back pocket, and holding it up. “So, I’m guessing you wrote this?” he asked, somewhat sheepishly, afraid that he was very, very wrong.

Raising her hands up as if he caught her red handed, True batted her eyes and giggled, “I don’t kiss and tell, Wyatt.” Her eyes said yes, that was me, but her words contradicted her expressions. He could decide if she wrote it or not. She liked this game. “Why do you think it’s me?” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, while her elbow rested on her leg. “That’s a huge assumption.”

Toying with her crush was fun. Why didn’t she do this before?

Oh. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Well, you told me I had a pretty face earlier today, so like, it made the most sense,” Wyatt said, smiling nervously and glancing to the floor then back to True’s eyes. He wasn’t used to this, flirting. He couldn’t have made that answer seem coy even if he’d wanted to.

Deciding to relinquish her power, realizing how uneasy he seemed, True stood up and skipped her way to her husband, breaking the distance between them. She wasn’t even drunk. She wasn’t even high. She wasn’t even ready.

Was she ever ready?

And yet, the stalker in her wanted to look at her love, face to face, for what felt like the first time, ever. “You do have a pretty face.” She admitted again, before clasping her hands together and cutesly swaying her body from side to side, while she stayed in position. “But, what if someone else likes you?”

She didn’t deny or agree.

After a brief moment of silence, Truly Bliss allowed herself to come to a stop, as she looked up at him, rather seductively, unintentionally, and teased, “Is it smart for you to put all your eggs in one basket?”

Wyatt screwed up his face in confusion. Eggs? What eggs? “I don’t know anything about eggs or anything, but like, you like me and I think that’s cool and like we should do something about it,” Wyatt said, grinning. Realizing that he should do something cute, he suddenly grabbed one of her hands with his. Good move.

As simple as hand holding was for True, this gave her an explosion of emotions. His aura was like elixir and she wanted more. She didn’t understand how one boy could flood her mind to this point, and to her, he was perfect. He was exactly what she needed.

Wyatt was adorable. Active and lived in the moment. Loved dogs. She would know, she had pictures of him with dogs. His favorite chips were doritos. Nacho cheese, spicy nacho, salsa verde, tapatío, cool ranch, supreme cheddar, jacked ranch-dipped hot wings! DORITOS everyday. Rain or shine. He loved doritos. He was in the film club, which wasn’t a very big club. It was led by Henry Green, it had her best friend, Kit Thomas in it (though, fairly new), and one other familiar face: Riley Wells (also a new attendee). For the most part, it was him and Henry, eating snacks and watching films. An unspoken bond, where they both shared a love for movies. She could tell that the bond was there.

Wyatt was a boy that valued his friendships. He spent a lot of time with his friends, like played video games in the student lounge with them, skated with them, smoked with them… he freaked out when there were creepy crawlers and made faces when his friends challenged him to eat sour shit, when he didn’t like sour shit. If he had a book near him, he was usually sleeping on top of it, rather than reading it, and forget about math. He’d rather not do his homework than touch it.

She loved him.

Even so, there was a part of her that hesitated. The part of her that wasn’t ready to say, I do. The part of her that liked staying in the shadows and learning everything she can about him, before she could take the risk and say, hey, let’s make my fantasies a reality. Wyatt was genuinely a nice guy and he deserved to win everything, but was she really the prize he deserved? Was she even worth his time?

Such a simple gesture caused her confidence to deflate. Retracting her hand, bringing it to her side, True looked at her feet, her fears taking over, as she blatantly lied, “It wasn’t me. I can’t take credit for someone else’s feelings…” The shadows was where she belonged.

Wyatt’s face fell. He’d been so sure it was her, but it seemed he was very wrong. “Oh, uhm, okay. Well, sorry to bother you I guess,” Wyatt said, his eyes now glued to the floor, his hand awkwardly massaging the back of his neck as he slowly backed up towards the door. “I should get going. Secret admirer to find and all,” he explained with a nervous chuckle, before stepping out of the red room, the door closing behind him.

“Mm, yeah… I’m sure you’ll find her.” True wanted to cry. Watching him walk away was the hardest thing for her. She wanted to tell him to not go, to not leave her alone. For some reason the feeling of being alone was the scariest feeling that ever existed, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t face him and tell him how much she truly admired him. She couldn't say he was right all along. The love letter was written by her.

She just couldn’t...

What was wrong with her? Looking down at her outfit, no longer fond of it, she decided to put her old clothes back on and find a place to lay down until the party was over. Forgetting her glasses and the strangers’ clothes she stole from the game room in the red dungeon, the place she didn’t understand, True quietly left.

Feeling shitty.

For the brief time she was sleeping, Joy had found herself in a surreal dream, where she and Damian were in a retro colored talk show, sitting in large white seats, with the host between them. She looked at her boyfriend with suspicious eyes, calling him out on his lies. All the girls he slept with were in the crowd (though it was just her imagination creating fake lovers). It was like they were on the Maury Show, but the episodes focused on her new found relationship.

Damian gave off this uncaring nonchalance, taking her feelings lightly, which only riled her up more. Joy never got this riled up. The dream shifted to her talking to a fortune teller with a crystal ball, asking questions of what her future had in store for her, but all Joy could see was white clouds and obscure images. Not being able to predict things was frustrating and her dream displayed the feelings she carried that day up until she left the party and he assured her, she had nothing to worry about.

Slowly, her eyes opened to see that her face was inches away from Damian’s, who was holding onto her, asleep. Where was Lil’ Boss?

When Amity came home from picking her husband up, they both found their son and his sitters sleeping on the guest bed. To prevent a nuclear war from happening, since her son did not like waking up in a room that wasn’t his room, Amie quietly separated her child from the two lovebirds and brought him to his room, tucking him in his bed for the night. Thankful that her son had fallen asleep, hoping it would stay that way, Amie decided that Damian was okay in her book. He got her child to sleep, just like he said.

After tiptoeing out of her son’s bedroom, closing the door behind her, she went to the master bedroom to find her husband. Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her face against his back, into his shirt that he still had on, that smelt like him. “Still sleeping…” She mumbled about their son.

“Really? Is he a wizard?” Jericho asked his wife, putting his hands over Amity’s and almost frowning a bit; though she couldn’t see. “Putting him to sleep is supposed to be my thingggg.” Surprisingly, Jericho sounded mostly disappointed. He turned around and put his chin on top of Amie’s head. “Did Tyty just outgrow me? Like he outgrew Sesame Street.”

“You’re his father, he’s stuck with you, but yeah, probably. He found a new method to help him sleep.” Amie teased. She liked this. She liked when their schedules weren’t filled to the brim. She liked the time they shared together. Her time with her family was when she was most happy.

“Oh noooo.” JJ whined, sighing as he kissed her atop the head. “I’ve outgrown my usefulness. All he’ll want me for now is to beat hard levels in Crash Bandicoot. I’m hurt, my heart has been ripped out of my chest. I just want to be a loving and excellent father, but now some young thundercat has moved in and put my son to sleeps,” JJ said, before pausing. A brief moment passed, before he spoke up.

“Hey, I haven’t met him. Is ‘young thundercat’ a good descriptor?”

“Yeah, I think that works. He kind of gives me Lion-o vibes. Though, he probably has a awful first impression of me… I was woken up and so was Tyty. I may have overreacted.” Amie sheepishly looked up at her lover. “He drank your juice and I yelled at him!”

“Sounds like you.”

Meanwhile, in the guest bedroom, Joy quietly caressed her boyfriend’s face. He was her’s. All her’s. And now that they were together, she could do things like this. Her kisses were slow and soft, comforting. In his hold, which loosened momentarily, she climbed on top of him, feeling his chiseled to perfection chest.

Damian didn’t stir as Joy touched him and began to straddle him. Sometime along the way, Damian had taken his shirt off; sleeping with your shirt on was next to impossible. Pants, too. In fact, all Damian had left on was his boxer briefs. He was, however, a very heavy sleeper, and it seemed Joy would have to try a little harder if she wanted to rouse him.

Challenge accepted. There were many routes Joy could take this. She didn’t know if this was the best one to choose from, but staring at his chest made her want to do it, so she did. With no restraint, Joy bit her boyfriend’s nipple. Because for some reason, that was on her mind, and she wanted to do it.

This did get a response, but it wasn’t exactly Damian waking up. Instead, it was Damian sleep talking, “owwww.” Well, rather sleep whining. Damian’s arms pulled a little more snugly around Joy, nuzzling her closer to him. “Shhhh, am sleep.”

“Damiannnnnn.” Joy whined back, squirming in his hold. This was a rough pursuit, but she couldn’t give up! A Darling never gave up. Deciding the bold route, she slid her tongue up his body until once again she was back to his face, but this time she thrusted her tongue into his mouth.

Okay, that one worked. It was hard to not wake up when something like that happened. Damian’s eyes opened as he loosened his grip on Joy slightly, pulling out of the kiss, “...good morning, Joy.” Damian said, staring up at his girlfriend. He was still tired, still half asleep, and offered a question before anything, “Where the little guy?”

Sitting up, on top of him, Joy turned toward the door, then back down at him, “My theory is Amie grabbed him. The little guy does NOT like waking up anywhere that isn’t his bedroom.” Unlike Damian, Joy still had all her clothes on. Once she was asleep, she was out until now, so she didn’t have an opportunity to ask her aunt for a change of clothes. “Also, it’s like 3am.”

“Okay, let’s make out.” Damian said. He just wanted to make sure that the little guy wasn’t around, in case things got too heated, which they were almost bound to. That being clarified, though, Damian put his hand on the back of Joy’s hand and parted his lips slightly as he pulled her mouth to his, locking their lips once again.

That didn’t last long, before Joy pulled away, “Waitttt!” Yes, she wanted this, but she wasn’t ready. Not explaining herself, Joy took off her sweater, so that she was only in her spaghetti strap tank and jeans. Yeah, no, she wasn’t going to take off her pants. If he wanted more, he’d have to work for it. “Okay, now let’s make out.”

Bringing their lips back together, she ran her hands through his hair, eyes closed, and allowed her actions and body to do the talking. Pressing her small boobs against his well defined chest, she granted access for his tongue to enter the seam of her lips. Unlike on New Years, she was completely sober and everything she did right here and right now was fully intended and not influenced by the courage of alcohol. All her thoughts were obliterated by their kiss. They didn’t need to hurry and she doubted her uncle and aunt would peak in. For once, they could savour each other’s lips, let their desire to touch each other take over, playing a big part in their instincts, and grow hotter and hotter by the second.

Instinctually, Damian wanted to roll them over so he could be on top. Instinctually. He fought against it, and instead ran his hand down her back and to her butt, gripping it as they kissed. His other hand slid up her side, to her shoulders. Once there, he carefully went about pulling her spaghetti straps down, going slowly at first to gauge her feelings. He didn’t want to pressure her, but Damian had been blue balled quite a few times already with Joy, and didn’t want it to happen again.

Although her cheeks were burning red, from her nervousness and thumping heartbeat, and her body reactively shivered when Damian’s hand trailed down her spine leading to her ass, Joy didn’t push him away. She didn’t fight against this. Instead, she anticipated for more and could feel the heat from her face traveling throughout her veins, straight to her toes. Taking the next move, she oscillated her hips, which hopefully was enough to tell him she was ready.

As her hips began to move, Damian pulled away from their kiss and moved her head to the side. He took his lips and pressed them against her neck, sucking lightly sucked on her pale flesh. He took his hands and hooked his fingers underneath her shirt, beginning to pull it up and over her torso. Damian broke the kiss on her neck as he pulled the tank-top off the rest of the way, and dropped it over to the side of the bed and down to the floor.

Then, Damian rolled them so he was on top, and smiled down at her. “Finally.” He muttered, before leaning down to kiss her on the lips once again. As if fate was against them, again, Joy’s phone began to ring, with her designated ringtone for her mother.

Gently nudging her boyfriend a little up, so she could give him an apologetic look, she whispered, “I should take this.” Yeah, she could hold off and enjoy the moment but it would kill it for her if her mother started to have a panic attack. Joy always answered when her mother called. Staying on her back, she reached to the nightstand to find her phone and answered it, “Hey mommy!” Okay, yeah, she could totally act like she wasn’t in a position to lose her virginity.

Keep calm, Joy.

It’s three in the goddamn morning? Why was Jude calling? Why didn’t anyone want them to have sex? Damian was tired of this, but he wasn’t exactly surprised that Jude was calling. She was kind of the overbearing mother type, even in comparison to his own. Rather than let the the phone call be the end of it though, Damian slid down slightly, and put his lips back on the marked spot on her neck where he’d been before. Without a word, Damian set about sucking on her neck again.

Ignore him for a phone call, huh?

Oh fucking really, Damian? “Oh? You called…. twice already? I must of… missed it.” The angel on her shoulder was telling her to push away and go somewhere private to talk to her mother, to ease her worry, but the devil on her other shoulder was telling her to prove to Damian she could do this just fine with him being lewd and stubborn. Holding her phone close to her ear, she looked up to the ceiling and focused on her breathing, “I fell asleep.... After the project, I went to... Uncle’s for dinner… and decided… to spend… the night.”

She was doing a good job, Damian had to admit. But that only encouraged him to do more. Damian sucked a little harder, and ran one of his cold hands along her now bare stomach. Really, he knew he could force Joy to make questionable noises, but he wasn’t sure if he should.

“Oh, it’s okay mom… like I said, if you— you worry. Then call me! Uh, what?” Jude was questioning why she had many pauses in her speech. Talk better, Joy! “Oh, my b! I justtt tired. I’m tired.” It was then that Damian’s other hand completed its mission, and Joy’s jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped.

Everyone knows what happens next.

Embarrassingly so, a high pitched moan escaped Joy’s lips, causing her to slap her mouth closed. “Yes, mommy?” There was brief silence as Joy tried to not do that again. What even was that? “You, mm, want to speak to… him?” Joy felt like she was caught red handed, but she didn’t know how much Jude really knew. “Okay!” Her ‘okay’ turned from low to high, quick, and then Joy rushingly tapped her phone on his head, glaring at him.

Wait, no.

Damian pulled his lips off of Joy’s neck and winked at her, before he took the phone away, and rolled onto his back, flopping onto the bed. “Hey, auntie.” He said cheerfully. Damian only had type of speaking voice: confident. “What’s going on?”

Joy wished she could hear what her mother was saying. There were a lot of words coming out of her phone, but words she could not hear. Turning her body over, she shuffled up to see if she could hear exactly what was being said. There seemed to be a ‘thanks’ in there. It was too muffled and low!

“Well, alright. I guess I’ll see you then. Bye, Jude.” Damian shrugged his shoulder and took the phone away from his ear, handing it to Joy. “I’m coming over for dinner, Saturday.” He explained as Joy took the phone, before shifting back to a more comfortable position.

“Wait, did my mom hang up without saying goodbye?” Joy stared at her phone dumbfoundedly, which no longer had her mother on the other line. “Am I in trouble? Why are you coming over for dinner? That’s really weird she didn’t say goodbye. Should I call her back?”

“Because she’s tired, no, because she loves me, no it isn’t, don’t call her back. Come snuggle so we can sleep.” Damian quickly rattled off answers to every question she’d asked, then opened his arms for her to come.

Okay, maybe she was overreacting. Maybe it wasn’t that deep. After putting her phone to the side and silencing it, she made her way to him and laid in his arms, “...so we’re going to sleep?” She asked him, wondering if her mother’s phone call killed the mood.

“Yep. Moment’s ruined, sorry baby. I love you.”

A tomato. She was a tomato. Did Joy hear that right? Did he say he— “Come again?” Joy was stunned for a round.

“I said: The moment is ruined, I'll show you the glorious pleasure of being finished inside later. Then I said sorry baby. Then I said. I.” Damian kissed her upon the lips, “Love.” Another kiss on the lips. “You.” A final kiss, this time upon the nose.

Dead.

Joy was dead.

_{“...I love you too.”} She hid her face, against his chest.

“That’s my girl.”

For Honey Dalton, Shiloh's fairy magic seemed to be going in her favor, as the blonde was now making her way to the pool with the apple of her eye. The girl she's always wanted to talk to, but never had the courage to do so until she drank a hefty Zombie. Not all divine intervention can lead to a positive end result. Especially if LSD was given to someone who wasn't in a positive mood to begin with. Nothing was beautiful, spiritual, and god-like about this trip.

At all.

Well at first, the water intrigued the boy. Riley Wells leaned against the railing, watching energy loom over the water as it kissed the night sky. The water danced with the most vibrant pinks and blues, which were in reality the strobe lights coming off the boat and reflecting against the liquid surface. At least, the scenic experience was like he was inside a psychedelic painting and that was unbelievably surreal. His trip started taking a turn for the worst when he could hear a familiar female voice singing him a lullaby. The voice was rather ominous and ghost-like, but why did he feel like he knew who it belonged to?

Where was it coming from?

Hastily and on full alert, he turned around and grabbed the nearest girl's shoulders, who looked at him in surprise, "Uh, hey Riley." She wiggled out of his grip. Her dress read fuck me, which was rather distasteful to see, but he had to get to the bottom of this. The bottom to finding the voice. The haunting voice that filled him with nostalgia.

"Do you hear that?" He looked from side to side. His paranoia building, as the song continued to go on, and on, and on. Why was this voice making him so uncomfortable?

"Hear what?" The girl gestured for her friends to come to her, so they can all watch the spectacle that was the morning host freaking out and hearing things. Teenagers were stupid like that. They liked watching animals that they felt were below them. An animal in this fucked up kingdom that was Beverly Hills High showing obvious signs of distress and all they did? They laughed.

They fucking laughed.

"The pretty voice! The singing!" His face whitened as the flickering lights started to not be as mesmerizing as they were moments ago. The shadows throughout their general area were like monsters he saw when he was a little boy when the night was not the time of day he was fond of. The lights blinded him, like the blaring sirens of an ambulance, signaling people should panic because their worst fears were coming true. Fear he could not reverse.

Why did she call her friends? His widened eyes carefully watched her every move, as if he was waiting for her to tell him where the voice was coming from, as if he was trying his best to not panic. To not freak out. This voice. This voice was getting louder.

Stop.

Stop it.

He hoped they could hear what he was hearing. Right? He couldn't be the only one hearing this person singing some child to sleep. It was like it was on the intercom! If they couldn't hear it, they were seriously toying with him. They HAD to hear it. His heart was beating so hard, it felt like it wanted to rip out of his chest. If Riley knew he was on acid, he would try to convince himself that this was just a trip, but he had no idea that he was drugged.

"Are you talking about the music coming from the dance floor? I'm pretty sure this is some edm shit. There's no girl singing." She looked up at the guy that went next to her and put his arm possessively around her. The girl giggly whispered, "He's totally trippin', babe." In time, four other people joined them, this other boy in particular taking the other side of her, checking her ass, before bringing his attention to Riley.

Hell was raising inside of Riley. His skin was crawling with how loud this song was getting. Trippin'? He wasn't fucking trippin! She was just being a dumbfuck. And the dumbfuck's voice was like nails going down a chalkboard and he hated hearing it. "No, it's a lullaby, dude."

Taking her phone out, she pointed it in Riley's direction and cooed, "Why don't you sing it?" Was she being for real? This wasn't a joke! This was serious. He was being serious. His eyes met with the phone's lens and looked into it, like he was staring into an endless void, until he scoffed at the item.

This bitch.

Riley ripped her phone out of her hand and tossed it in the sea, only to be rewarded by her boyfriend grabbing him by the collar. "Did you just fucking do that? You know you're going to get her a new one, you little shit!"

"Ohhh, she's a fucking keeper. Because recording someone who is asking a question makes perfect sense! I hope she makes you super fucking happy when she's sleeping around behind your back!"

"That's a huge accusation. You don't even know me, Riley!" The boyfriend's face did drop at the sarcasm spilling out of Riley's mouth. The morning host's trip may be fucking bad, but his senses were heightened and there were signs. Signs of trust issues. Signs of lies. Signs of SEX.

"I know enough. Now put me down or I'll set the Elite on your asses." Boom motha' fucker. He had his brother as his shield even when his brother wasn't around. The boyfriend couldn't argue with that threat. He didn't want beef with Damian or Trevor or any of the Elite for that matter. That was social suicide waiting to happen. Dropping Riley on the ground rather ungracefully, the boyfriend turned around and tugged his girl with him, "Let's go."

"You're going to let him come at me like that?" She snapped her wrist out of his hand. No one was sober on this boat.

"Yes. Now, move."

Not really caring to watch the rest of this scene unfold, Riley picked himself up and entered the party, on the inside. Trying to follow the voice, which was unreasonably hard because it felt like it was coming from every direction, Riley pushed his way through the crowd and asked around, getting dismissive reactions almost immediately.

He dived into the dining area when the fireworks went off, thinking it was a bomb or some shit. His life almost ending by a heart attack. Military-crawling on the floor, he took out his phone, focusing his mind on making the loud banging noise stop — thinking, honestly, he might be creating that noise too.

Oh god.

Looking at his phone hurt his eyes. Could he even work it properly?

The last thing that was open was some kid's Instagram who made model kits. As he made his way to a corner, he tried to keep his mind off the voice by liking everything on this kid's page.

Like. Like. Like.

Was it making him feel better? Not really. By the time he reached the corner, where no one was, he was sweating. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, but this only caused his days at school to flash in his mind. The confrontation between Brian and Brynn. His brother getting in a fight on the field with Jacob. Seeing Damian and Henry's moms storm in the school and make his morning show a lot bigger than it already was. Getting in between Jamie and Marshall’s romance. His building jealousy over Savannah who wasn't even threatening him or anything, she just wanted to be with Trevor. His pops checking on him, trying to get him to talk. His dad always curious about his day. Shit hitting the fan because of the Owen situation. Because of Hailey.

High school sucking.

He needed to say things, before this pulled him in a pit that he couldn't escape. He needed to stop bottling things up. He needed to talk. There was so much going on in his mind, even going back to when he lost his biological parents. His mother. The accident.

Opening his eyes, with a sudden resolution, it was the New Year after all, Riley, with shaky hands, held his phone like he was going to take a selfie, and pressed record 'live' Instagram video. "You know what I hate? He started his monologue off, staring away from the lens. For the time being, he was going insane, and in the moment, this felt like the best way to release his madness.

To make the voice stop.

"I hate how fake you all are. I hate how you look forward to the next scandal, the next heartbreak, the next shitshow, the next Weekend Warrior to accuse a boy of date raping an autistic girl, I hate how stupid you all pretend to be."

Clenching his teeth, he turned to stare at the lens, stare at whoever was watching.

"You know what makes this all the more fucked up? Some of you pretend to be immortal. Untouchable. Like it's okay to meddle in someone's love life and cause a teen to become suicidal because she's still learning how to handle her damage. I'm not fucking dumb and I know most of you act stupid, but you all should know better. It's not rocket science to see how petty you all are! How gullible you choose to be. How much you eat up at the drama because you live for it. Maybe it's a reminder you're alive? Maybe it's a reminder that other people have it worse than you?

Does that really get you off? That your life isn't as shitty as the student standing next to you, but still pretty fucking shitty.

Reality check, fuckers, we all got issues. You aren't special. So don't think you are.

Owen and Trixie still love each other, even if he fucked up or we think he fucked up because that's what we were told. The Owen situation wouldn't have gotten that heated if there weren't feelings involved. But then again, it's none of our fucking business. Let them figure out their shit, why does your opinion matter when you're not the one fucking them? That just makes you deserve to go to hell just as much as the person that lies. And no, I'm not talking about Owen. I'm talking about you.

You all lie and pretend.

You all turn a blind eye to this fucked up system.

I don't really fucking care if you have money or not. If you have a bodyguard with you, wherever you go, because you can't fight your own battles. Or if you hate the general population because they flaunt their money in your face when you don't got any.

You're all really shitty people.

No wonder I've been keeping to myself that I'm gay because even if my community has made huge progression, there's still you close minded shitheads that can't adapt, that still gay bash, that still tear someone apart, that still shove their beliefs down others' throats, that still make kids want to kill themselves.

Do you not see what you're doing?

Get with the times. Stop HATING.

And no, I'm not gay because I have two dads. I'm gay because honestly the worst kind of drama comes out of you crazy bitches that have princess complexes and don't like when another girl is getting more attention than you.

No, that isn't it either. I'm just gay.

But real talk. You women need to seriously learn to lift each other up, not bring each other down. It's 2043 and you're all still concerned about outshining each other or worse, putting 'men' in their place. Grow the fuck up and do realize your value isn't your parents' paycheck or last name. Your value is judged on how you act and treat those around you.

High school could be a little less shitty if you all actually tried to enjoy yourself and not let your misery ruin everyone else's day.

No one deserves this shit." His tangent came to a sudden stop.

There was a brief silence before he leaned in and looked at the lens with dead eyes. "I hope you're happy." With that, his live stream ended and what he didn't know was someone had already saved the recording and was going to make his video go viral on all social media platforms. Dropping to the ground, resting his head on the floor, Riley closed his eyes and waited for these bad feelings to stop.

Where was he? Trevor was looking everywhere high and low for his brother, and he could not find him. Although they did not arrive together, as was usual for the brothers when they attended get togethers such as this, Trevor was sure that his brother was here. The fact that he couldn’t find him anywhere concerned him, especially with how strange Rye had been acting lately. In his search, Trev passed by a pissed off looking dude that said Riley was a ‘real piece of work’ and that he’d thrown his girlfriend’s phone overboard.

“Really? That doesn’t sound like him. I’m sorry, bro, text me and we’ll make sure she gets a new one. Do you know where he is now, by any chance?” Trevor asked the kid, and he replied by angrily pointing in a direction. “Thanks, dude. Sorry again, I’ll fix that sitch.” Trev said and waved at the couple before heading in the indicated direction. Eventually, he found Riley… in a room, alone, on the ground… crying? Trevor slowly approached his brother, who at that moment looked very much like the sad boy from so many years ago in Colorado, and he spoke in the most gentle tone he could muster. “Rye? …what’s going on, Rye?” he asked, kneeling by his brother’s side, but not touching him. He knew his brother better than to touch him when he was like this.

"She won’t fucking shut up. I think I’m going crazy. All I know is my night went downhill after these two girls tried to cheer me up. I feel sick to my stomach and I think I just did something stupid. Like really fucking stupid. I just want to bury myself alive. I’m going to die alone. You’re going to disappear and it’s just going to me, by myself. Forever.” Yeah, Riley needed to go home. He was done for the night. Not until this day did he touch drugs. All for a good reason. He was too moody to have good highs.

“Whoa…” Trevor responded quietly and tried to be as comforting as possible. He sat down next to Riley and looked over at his brother, his light brown eyes wide with concern. “Who won’t shut up? Hey, hey, it’s okay. Please don’t bury yourself alive, I love you. Tell me what happened, Rye. I’ll fix it if I can… and I don’t plan on disappearing any time soon, I’m right here. Okay? What’s going on?”

How could he tell his brother he was a schizophrenic? This shit was freaking him out. Summing up his night would be such a bitch, but his brother deserved to hear something. Take deep breaths, Riley. Sitting up, leaning his head back on the wall, hugging his knees, his eyes dilated, which could be the best hint for Trevor to know his brother was on drugs, Riley tried his best to recount his night,
“I wasn’t really doing much, just being a wallflower, like I do. And these neon fairies come in. One asks me if I like cats and I’m like, I’m more of a dog person, but she was like whatever and gave me a cat. A cat candy. Not like an actual cat. I go outside and for a second I think my day is getting better, but then I hear this voice and I still hear this voice. She’s singing. It’s very spooky but calm. All at the same time. ‘Hush now, my story. Close your eyes and sleep. Waltzing the waves, diving the deep. Stars are shining bright. The wind is on the rise. Whispering words of long lost lullabies…’” There was more lyrics to the lullaby but as he actually spoke the words, tears started running down his face. Why was he crying? “I asked around. If they can hear her. But then this girl started recording me and mocking me. And all her friends were looking at me like I’m crazy. I’m not crazy! Maybe I am crazy. But... I grabbed her phone, fucking chucked it because that’s what the bitch deserved, and found myself in here. And then, oh my god, and then…” He buried his head into his legs, realizing he just committed social suicide.

Taking out his phone, he slid it toward his brother. "There should be a video saved in my camera roll…”

Those worried honey brown eyes continued to study Riley’s face. Trevor stayed quiet as Rye recounted the events that took place to lead him to this room. Neon fairies? Cat candy? At first, it didn’t make any sense, but then it did. Pops told them to be careful with party drugs, and what they could do to people like them… people with dark pasts and hidden issues. Obviously there was more wrong with Rye than Trevor had thought if he was willing to dabble in them, and he officially felt like the worst brother in the world for not noticing or doing something about it sooner. This… this broke his heart. “Rye, listen to me. You aren’t crazy, I think you’re high, that’s all. The cat candy? It was probably acid or e or something.” Trevor didn’t comment on the phone situation, but at least now he knew what happened that made Rye throw some girl’s cell phone in the ocean. He’d still keep his word on replacing that for her, even if she was being rude by recording Rye, Trev had to run to the store the next morning to replace his own phone anyway. “What do you mean, what video?” Trevor picked up Rye’s phone off of the ground and opened the photo app. He looked from the phone, to his brother, and back to the phone again before finding the video and clicking play.

Riley just wanted to get off the boat. He didn’t say anything more and let the video speak for itself.

Rousing from a heavy slumber, gradually and reluctantly opening her eyes to the harsh light peering in Owen’s open balcony door, Trixie sluggishly lifted herself up. The slight movement caused the soft sheet to drop to reveal her bare chest. Under his sheet, she was undoubtedly naked. Stretching her arms above her head, she yawned wildly. The sunlight was blinding. It didn’t help that she was incredibly hungover. On top of the ache in her head, her body was sore from the… events… that transpired last night. Was she and Owen back together?

Lifting the sex sheets, she examined them and smiled to herself. Drunk her was crazy but thanks to drunk her she was here, with Owen. There was some of her night that was vague. She remembered making a grand entrance with Marshall, dancing spicy, because that’s how she danced, spicy, used the bathroom, learning too much about her cousin’s dick, and… Ophelia’s face flickered in Trixie’s mind, causing her to frown. That’s right. She learned about the lie. Looking around his room, which hadn’t changed a bit, Trixie wondered where Owen was. She probably should get up or she’d be late for— she wasn’t going to school.

For once, she could clear everything up with Owen. Clean their slate. Start over. She wasn’t going to ruin that by going to school. She missed yesterday, she could miss today too. Up until this week her attendance was perfect. The teachers should be fine that she’s taking a mental health day. With all the shit she has been through, she deserved it.

“Mau?” It wasn’t Owen, but it was a close second! Oreo hopped onto the bed from the floor and trotted to Trixie’s face, putting his paw on her face. “Mau.” She was still here… The cat hadn’t expected her to stay the entire evening, let alone still be here. And now, she was in his bed. “Mau.” He pushed at her face. Go away.

Not really able to speak cat, the first thing that came to Trixie’s mind was: he wants love and attention. So, she did exactly that. Wrapping her arms around Oreo, she put him in a cradle like he was her baby and rubbed their noses together, “Good morning, Oreooo!”

DEVIL WOMAN.

“Mau! Mau! Mau! Mau!” Oreo complained, squirming and twisting in Trixie’s arms. Who did this woman think she was!? If his human wasn’t so fond of her, Oreo would FUCK. HER. UP.

As Oreo meowed aggressively, there was a knock on the door frame, drawing attention to Oreo’s savior: Owen. The boy was holding a bowl of cereal in his hands, and was in just his boxers. He took a bite, and crunched it. “Hey, Trixie.” He swallowed down the food and looked at Oreo, “Oreo would like freedom of movement, and to be put down. I think.”

“Oh.” Freeing the cat, Trixie modestly covered herself with the sheet. For some reason, she felt kind of shy. They had sex million times before, why was this time different? Pushing her hair behind her right ear, she whispered, “Sorry, Oreo.” Her gaze went from the cat to her not-so-long-ago-ex. She gave an awkward smile. Here they were. She was sober and he was eating cereal.

Oreo was gone seconds after Trixie put him down, leaping back off of the bed and retreating behind Owen’s legs. He would get his bed back when Satan was gone. He nuzzled against Owen’s leg as Owen took another bite of cereal, before nudging Oreo out of the room. There was a short look of betrayal from the cat to the man, but Oreo left.

“You better get this fucking cat back into your room!”

Owen shut the door without responding to his dad. Owen sat the bowl of cereal down on his dresser and approached the bed, kneeling down at the edge of it and putting his chin on the edge of the bed, looking across the way at Trixie. “Come here, Trix.”

That expression on his face caused her chest to have a sudden, sharp ache. She still felt guilty. She still felt like she didn’t deserve any of this. She still felt… horrible. “Come on, lover,” Owen said with a soft voice, reaching out with his hand gesturing her toward him with his finger.

A mess. She was a mess, with and without him. Cautiously and very cat like, she baby crawled to him. The sheet no longer covering her, her long, ebony hair, loose and unruly, and her eyes on his. Her defenses were down and she felt vulnerable. Her heart beat distracted her from thinking negative thoughts. She couldn’t think about anything but him and it was… daunting. Her face was inches away from his, when she whispered, “Hi, Kitty.”

“It’s good to see you.” Owen reached out and brushed some of her hair out of her eyes. “You’re sexy.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips gently, letting it only last a second. “I forgot how sexy.” He smiled and nuzzled their noses together. While Trixie was freaking out internally, and even somewhat externally, Owen was as controlled as always. After the night before, Owen considered things alright between them — even if she didn’t quite yet.

Tracing his lip with the tip of her finger, taking in her present, she watched him with adoration and devotion. She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again, that’s for sure. Tracing her finger down to his chin, she lifted his head a little so she could get a better look at him, “I’ve missed you.” She admitted.

Owen let her move his head so she could get the angle she wanted and smiled after she spoke. “I had a feeling,” he winked at her and smiled — something Owen didn’t do that much anymore. Especially not this smile, the one that he knew made Trixie feel…things. He pushed against her hand and met eyes with her again. “I missed you, too.”

He was a little devil. Knowing all of her like the palm of his hand. All her triggers that turned her on. She brought her head closer and nipped at his lip, “Are you just going to keep staring or are you going to fuck me? All you’re doing is making me wet.” Yeah, she still had her thirst from last night.

“If I tease you enough, you turn into an animal. It’s great. Makes it a little hard to sit, since my back gets a litttleee fucked up, but…” Owen trailed off, reaching out and brushing some of her hair out of her eyes, shaking his head. He laughed, then leaned forward to kiss her again. “We probably shouldn’t yet. I’m sorry, but we can do it whenever we want. And we will.” Owen explained, reaching underneath the bed and grabbing her panties. “Put these on. If I knew where your bra was, I’d give it to you too… Shouldn’t you call Riley or something? I know you, and I know you’ll want to make a statement. Besides, you have to tell everyone I don’t have baby dick.” Owen kissed her cheek and stood up straight.

“Well, Riley might be kinda fucked… Here.” Owen went back to his cereal and picked it back up, beginning to crunch at the cereal, before snatching his phone and pulling his phone off of the dresser, then browsed to Riley’s Instagram and pulled the video up, handing it over to Trixie.

First, she was denied, which hurt. He didn’t want her. She pouted at the thought, but then her attention was immediately brought to his phone. Pressing play, Trixie placed the phone on the bed, grabbed her panty, and as she watched the video, she slipped it on, “Oh no, Riley.” Last night turned out not being good for a few of them. Though, her night was debatable. She’d like to think it ultimately was a success because it ended with her screwing her ex.

Wait.

With her panty on and the video ending, Trixie gave Owen a confused look, “Are we…?” She needed to make sure that there wasn’t any grey lines between them. That she could make up for hurting him, while they dated.

“I threw you against the wall last night, like seriously,” Owen pointed at the wall beside the bed, where there was a hole in the drywall. “I’d say we’re together, at least. Besides, babe.” Owen reached down to her left hand and pulled it up to her face, where the ring he’d given her almost a year ago was back in its proper place. “You’re wearing the ring.”

Bringing her left hand to her chest, feeling her ring with her right, her eyes welled up. “Okay.” She gave a shaky smile, the tears trailing down her face. Not ready to cry her heart out, she immediately wiped the tears away and spoke her thoughts outloud, “I need to call Brian. He hates me, but he’ll be able to get what I want done. I don’t think Riley will go to school, for a good reason too… this will be hard for him to come back from. And…” Even though he said good things about her and Owen, he called out a specific person, which took guts. Something she has never been able to do. “...Hailey.” Was all she could say.

“Yep, seems like he’s fucked, huh? Hailey’s gonna feel some type of way with Riley trash talking the buttle.” Owen reached out and grabbed his phone. Remembering that she mentioned she had to call Brian, Owen made a face, “hey, I don’t want to talk to him, so don’t tell him I’m here. Brian always wants something from me, it’s a pain in the ass” He shook his head and sat back down on the bed, laying on his back and stretching his legs out. “It’s good to have you back. If you want, I’m totally available for straddling while you call Brian. Just going to play this mobile game and stay out of it.” Owen explained, pulling his phone out and tapping a few things to bring up the app he was interested in.

“You could try texting him.” Owen offered, as the sound of Tetris emanated from his phone.

“At least until she graduates or like… he figures out how to make peace with the demon queen.” Without a second thought, Trixie was on top of her boyfriend, but her straddling had a goal. She placed herself at a specific spot, in a specific angle. After she grabbed her phone, which was at the edge of the bed, she looked for Brian’s name in her contacts, “He doesn’t text.” She would know. They’ve had business calls before, which usually ended with him calling her a bitch. Subtly moving her body on top of Owen, on purpose, with intention, she called the man that would hopefully save the day.

“Brat.” Owen said in protest, still focusing on his game as the phone dialed once, then twice. As always, Brian answered immediately as the third ring happened.

“Hello, this is Brian.” Brian’s voice sounded off through the receiver, the same as always.

“Hey Brian! It’s Trixie.” Before he could protest and hang up, she racingly begged, “Please-don’t-hang-up-it’s-important!”

“Very little that you do is important.” Came Brian’s terse, annoyed response. However, he didn’t hang up. Was there a pause? Yes, but no click of the line. “You have one and a half minutes, starting now.”

Taking a quick breath in and out, Trixie nodded and gave Brian the lowdown, “I’m a bitch, you’re right, and I found out that Owen didn’t cheat on me. I’d like to make an announcement on the morning show via skype and I need your help. I understand this isn’t necessarily your jurisdiction, but based on a video that transpired last night, I don’t think Riley will be going to school today and you are one of the most reliable, efficient people I know. If you do me a favor, I promise I’ll pay you back ten fold!” She probably was going to regret that last statement.

“There’s not a lot you could offer me. I tried to help out with the morning show and Brynn was a bitch and Riley a whiny baby. I don’t have time to work with either of those things. I saw the video. Why do I have to clean up Riley’s mess? Doesn’t seem fair. I don’t want to provide assistance where, quote unquote, ‘the creator’ of the show wants it. I offered already.”

Owen reached up and tapped Trixie on the shoulder with a finger. “Not going very well, then?” He asked, able to tell mostly based on her subtler body movements. Plus, he knew Brian.

Her face did drop, but she gently brushed her boyfriend away, this was her battle. “Brian. This isn’t for Riley. He can deal with his own mess. I need to clean mine and clear Owen’s name, but I am in no position to go to school right now. I understand this isn’t fair, and I won’t ask for anything after this, I just need your help. This one time. Then you can kiss the morning show goodbye and let it die. Right now all I care about is taking me and Owen, out of the spotlight.”

“Seems to me like being on the morning show via Skype from, I assume, his bedroom is a poor way to do it. But fine. One last thing. After this, don’t call me anymore. Agreed?”

Obediently and hoping in the future she didn’t need him, Trixie gave a certain reply, “Agreed.”

“Okay.” Click.

“Is it over? Let’s get you back out of those clothes. We have time.”

Knock. Knock.

Owen’s eyes flicked over toward the door. “Motherfucker, this had better be good.”

She didn’t know how she got this far at the party, but here she was, beside Roz Norcross, walking to the second from the top level of the yacht. This was a five tier boat. It was massive and reminded her of her daddy. Her daddy could get behind parties like this. He liked big parties. A lot of shit happened at big parties. That’s how she was conceived.

Go big! Go hard! He would say. If you don’t do any of those things, don’t do a damn thing! So here Honey was, going big and going hard. Partying like a rockstar. Just like her big man. Boy, would he be proud of her tonight. Somehow she got this close to what he’d call a good lay, to her she was finally near her crush. She must be doing something right.

Okay, Honey was more stumbling and crawling than walking, but she was on a mission. After she overheard there was a pool on this boat, she came to the daunting realization how hot she was and how she needed this pool. Occasionally, she would stop to check to see if Roz was still near.

Yepp!

Roz was still with her. What a lucky girl she was. “I’m glad you didn’t take off the vest. It’s like your signature!” Huffing a little, losing her breath, Honey paused from the climb to take a break. There was too many steps. She wanted to die. Why was walking harder when drunk?

As far as parties went this one rated as fairly unnoteworthy as far as Roz was concerned; that had been her biggest concern when she first heard about it and every minute she spent here was making her more and more upset that she didn’t stick to her plan of not showing up and running some fluff piece. Her and her damn pride. Still, even if the article about this party would read more like a takedown of the host, Roz couldn’t say that it was a total waste.

After all, she was walking alongside someone that was clearly glad for the company.

Roz considered it to be something of a good deed she was doing. Honey had clearly been a bit past tipsy and Roz wasn’t sure this was the right place to be drunk and alone. So long as Roz was around, Honey was in good hands and honestly, Honey seemed like she was in a bit over her head when it came to alcohol but other than that she seemed like a rarity at Beverly Hills High: a good person. Of course, Roz had been wrong before, but in her line of work she learned to trust her gut.

“I wasn’t aware I had a signature. Besides the point, if I didn’t have the vest on, my bits’d be hangin’ out and that’s not somethin’ the whole school needs to see.” Roz wasn’t exactly fussed that her shirt was taken, it wasn’t even technically her shirt. “Careful you don’ fall, I don’ know where the lifeboats are.”

“If I fall —” She turned on her heel to face Roz as she bounced backwards on the stairs, doing the opposite that Roz asked. She was not being careful, at all. Hop! Honey was such a rebel. Hop!

Surprisingly, she was landing her jumps. “—you can dive in after me.” She giggled, her dimples apparent under the decorative rave-esque lights. Hop! Feeling a sudden slip, she grabbed onto the railing to play it cool. Like she wasn’t about to bust her ass. Totally intentional.

Hyperly turning around, her eyes lit up, “The pool!” Scurrying to the top, Honey, gaining top notch hustle, rushed to the water, while taking off her boots. That’s all she needed to take off. Shi’s clothes were practically a bathing suit! It showed so much skin. “Let’s play an ice breaker, Roz!” The first thing Honey did was reach her hand towards the falling water that went into the pool. Her body leaned forward enough to where her tushie was popping out, as she continued to stretch her arm closer to the waterfall.

Oooooh! It was cold.

The question that lingered in Roz’s mind was how much of this was Honey and how much of it was the alcohol? Roz was no stranger to drunks, hell she practically was raised by some, but all that had done was lead to the worst in people being dragged into the light. Maybe the school needed more people like Honey, someone whose alcohol consumption led to positivity instead of being wrapped around a toilet all night while social media feeds came up with new ways to humiliate someone whose only mistake was thinking watered down beer couldn’t get them drunk.

To say she was fascinated would be a bit of a stretch but shockingly, especially to Roz, she found herself nothing if not intrigued by Honey and her whims. Would Roz have dove in after her? Probably. That she couldn’t say the same about some of her ‘enemies’ was telling. When Honey looked like she was going to fall if not for the railing, Roz extended a hand then sharply snapped it back down to her side.

Roz brought up the rear, arriving at the pool moments after Honey had. “An ice breaker? What, like ‘never ever’ or somethin’? You’re already a bit sauced and I’m not gonna see you get more sloshed.” Roz stood near the edge of the pool, hands buried deep in the pockets of her vest as she watched Honey mess around a bit with the waterfall.

“’Sides, I get the feelin’ you know all about me, yeah? Lookin’ for some of my little secrets, is ya?”

“You make me sound like a stalker!” Honey giggled at the sentiment. If only. There was so much about Roz she didn’t know, so of course she wanted in on her secrets! That being said, secrets came after she built trust. This was her chance to cross the bridge from strangers to acquaintances. In Honey’s book, that would make her night a success.

Turning around to face Roz, resting her bottom on the edge of the pool, she nodded in agreement, “Sure, never have I ever works! But!” She rose her pointer finger to emphasize her ‘but’. “If you’ve done what I’ve never done, and same goes for me, we must talk about the experience. Okay?” Pause and…. go! “You can up the ante if you’d like, since you’re so bold.” Her eyes surveyed the bare areas of Roz, before she kiddishishly stuck out her tongue.

“Now, come join me! Pretty please!” She said please. With complete reckless abaddon, Honey ‘trust fell’ into the pool, soaking her entire body, including her face with paint.

Was she really all that bold, or was she just someone who didn’t care enough about social reputations to put on an act? Roz never figured she had much of a reputation to ruin, not like those who had their daddy’s bank accounts to cover up any slight or potential wrongdoing. DUI? Throw some money at the judge. Date rape a loud blonde girl? Slap on the wrist because daddy Greenbucks pisses hundreds in the staff bathroom. Compared to the worst sorts that walked the halls on platform shoes and on the backs of others, Roz wasn’t bold at all. She just wasn’t pretending to be something she wasn’t.

But, as she eyed Honey with a curious look that was equal parts fascination and amusement, Roz had to wonder if she always had to be ‘on’. There didn’t appear to be any others around, no doubt they were flocking to whatever poor sod would be the first to say yes to a bit of clothes free humping, and Honey was at that state of drunk where it was likely the only thing she would remember was getting wet. And not even remotely in the way that Roz was familiar with.

When Honey fell into the pool, Roz wasn’t certain it was fully intentional. The last thing she wanted was a drowning on her watch, but who the hell said ‘please’ before passing out? Moreover, what sort of bitter irony would there be in someone drowning in a pool while out on the ocean? Roz’s concern washed away as cleanly as the tide, and with it went her inhibitions - as if she had any to spare. “Sod it.” Roz was moments away from joining Honey, but there were two very important steps to take care of. First, she took off her vest and set it at pool side; second she dropped trou and folded her pants neatly next to her vest. Honey might not have cared about her clothing getting wet, but Roz had to walk home at least half way, and that was a quick trip to sick city.

It wasn’t as if she was in her birthday suit, but it was the next best thing. Just some unflattering hipsters that would probably come away being sheer and see through after being exposed to water, but then she was ‘bold’ wasn’t she? Roz joined Honey in the pool, not really a fan of the initial temperature but managing it with a soft, sudden wince. This was the price one paid for boldness. “There’s one to cross off the list. Never have I ever damn near skinny dipped.”

“Guilty.” Honey wiped her face, muffling her words, as she took off the glow in the dark face paint with the pool water. The optimistic blonde was focused on finding out more about her crush than looking at the glorious body that belonged to her. Before she told her story, she grabbed a nearby towel, which was conveniently placed near them and wiped her face (she didn’t want to get paint in her eyes).

When she was done, the blonde cleared her throat. “Okay, let’s see. After I moved here, from New York, my dad would tell me stories about him and his band. Mind you, I didn’t start attempting to try things until I was here for three years because a nine year old skinny dipping would be just weird… It doesn’t help I have a friend, who is basically my sister, that is a major bad influence. Much more… expressive and forward than me. You see all this?” Honey gestured to her wet rave clothes and the running paint, “This wouldn’t have been a thing without her help. I’m kinda’ a hippie, I guess? At school. So yeah, one night, with some of her friends… we kind of jumped off a cliff… nakey.” She paused, pushing her wet strands of blonde hair behind her ears. “It’s really liberating, once you throw your fear out the door. I was dared, so I had to do it… and I’m glad I did! Shows I got spunk sometimes.”

There was a saying about books and covers that came to mind as Roz listened to Honey’s story; she never figured the blonde for the type and by the sounds of it Roz wasn’t the only ‘bold’ one in the pool. The difference was that Roz didn’t have to be dared to be bold. Still, she was learning more than just the fact that Honey was a bit daring. East coaster, that probably explained why blondie didn’t have the stink of pretension about her. Father in a band, were they any good? Roz didn’t know but it was something to look into. Best friend, or damn near close to it, was likely the cause for Honey’s more wild actions. All useful information to keep on the back burner and edit as needed.

“You know a dare’s not legally bindin’, right? You don’t actually have to do what you’re dared to. Like if I dared you to streak on the top deck you wouldn’t have to. Don’t actually do it, I’s just sayin’.” That she even had to clarify was unlikely but at this stage she wouldn’t put it past Honey to take it as a challenge. “Me, I’ve never skinny dipped. I think you’ll find as this little game goes on that I’m a massive disappointment. Speakin’ of which...it’s your turn.”

“I can’t help it, though.” Honey whined and squirmed in the pool. “Once someone says dare, I’m like welp, time to prove them I can do just about anything! Unless it’s like murder or bad for the planet. Only books can do that stuff.” Reading was the best part of her day! Today talking to Roz was.

“Oh, yeah, my turn. Lemme see.” Subconsciously, Honey scooted closer to her company. They were too far apart! “Never have I ever… taken a selfie! Is that lame? That’s totally lame. I don’t know. Uh, whatever. I’m just going to go with it!” The blonde nervously laughed (which was cute), “It’s just like rude, I feel, to take out my phone and be like oh-em-gee look at this girl puking behind me. Snap!” When Honey was pretending to be a valley girl, she made sure she had the accent and all.

“Oh, that was rude of me. I shouldn’t make fun of how some girls sound…” Apologetic, but still enjoying herself.

Was it a lame question? Absolutely, but if nothing else it showed Roz just where Honey’s mind was at. Here was this bubbly thing all hopped up on bubbly sharing a pool with someone who moments ago she was cheering for and rather than dive into the nitty, gritty and potentially shitty here she was asking about selfies like an innocent flower blooming in the snow. Roz didn’t quite know how to process that and opted not to think about it for fear of it making her head hurt and spin.

“No offense, but I’m shocked you’ve not taken a selfie. Figure a girl like you’se the type that takes forty selfies before nine and only posts one. I’ve taken one, though. Not exactly as excitin’ a story as jumpin’ off a cliff bareassed but what can be. I needed a lockscreen for a new phone, I jokingly told my right hand man we should pose for a selfie like all the other vapid sorts. For irony’s sake. We did it, we laughed, and I chucked the photo in the bin.” It wasn’t Roz’s finest moment but a selfie of her had existed in one point in time; it was likely the only one that would ever exist.

“None taken! And yeah, I see that. But I guess I’m just kind of odd for girls our age. If I ever take a selfie, I will challenge myself and make a finger painting out of it! Because that seems more unique than just a selfie… okay… back on track. Your turn!” Honey covered her mouth excitably.

“Never have I ever...gone on a second date.” And now one of the subtler points of the game was exposed: little secrets about one’s self disguised as humorous asides. If it was true or not, only Roz could say.

“Does that mean you never got past the first?” Honey’s eyes suddenly grew sad. “I can’t believe no one would want to date you more! You’re so date material in my book.” Her book was small, but everything she said was genuine. Roz was first page in her book of who she thought was datable. Unique. Mysterious. Smart. Attractive. “Hey, I guess one date is more than me!” This should make her feel better. “Unless dates with my brother can count… they probably don’t count.”

“They don’t count unless your family’s runnin’ for office. Then it’s probably encouraged. Purity of blood and all.” Roz snorted a bit at her own comment regardless of its humor or if Honey found it half as humorous as Roz had. She’d be the first to admit that she was a bit off her game, but given the situation she figured it was allowed. Weird as it was, her confidence was all she had right now. “Yeah, means I never get past the first; sometimes don’t even make it through it. Maybe I pick the worst sorts but it’s like, half the time they expect me to fuck ‘em jus’ coz they took me to some fancy steakhouse. I don’ even kiss on a first date. Shockin’, innit? Not so bold after all, am I.”

Honey shook her head in disagreement and gave a smile of pure serenity, “I think it’s bold of you to say no and not pull out immediately. I know I for one wouldn’t want to kiss just anyone and I’d definitely not give my flower up either! In that aspect, I’m not my father.” There was silence, briefly, as Honey came to a sudden realization that there were some things she hadn’t forgiven her father on. Maybe she wasn’t too forgiving, as Jax would put it. Her dad was a good man, but dumb. Very dumb. He broke her dead mother’s heart and that was a hard pill to swallow.

Honey turned her attention to the pool water. Cupping her hands, she clapped them together, under the water, playing with herself (not lewdly) and causing the water to pop up. “I don’t think many people believe in romance anymore. At least, that’s what I notice. I see a lot of things. It’s hard to ignore two kids tonguing right by my locker or a girl leading a boy to the janitor’s room…” Part of her was curious how all that felt. Kissing so abruptly and fiercely, like that gearhead did to the newsie in the hallway. There was so much heat in those moments. She couldn’t help but stand there and watch in wonder and awe.

Would that ever happen to her? How would her love story be? Would it be like the movies? Like ‘Mamma Mia!’? Or like ‘Midnight in Paris’? “I don’t think people really notice me.” Standing next to Shiloh or Jax or both, it makes sense why she doesn’t shine as bright as them. Those two were crazy talented, crazy attractive, and crazy personable. She was kind of a dork, who did a lot with her hands and had her head stuck in the clouds or in a book. That’s really all she had going for her; she didn’t know what her favorite things to do were. She liked doing many things. A girl, who wasn’t typical and who lived in her own world. That was Honey in a nutshell.

Shaking her thoughts out of her head, she looked back up at Roz and childishly simpered, “My turn again! Never have I ever…. stole something! That cost more than TEN dollars. I accidentally walked out with a five dollar bracelet, but that’s about it.”

Suddenly Roz was feeling as if she should’ve kept her pants on, not that she figured a woman’s body was an unknown sight to Honey, but because she had done it to tease, to poke fun at the fact that Honey was unabashedly cheering for Roz back at the blackjack game. Now it was starting to feel like Roz was taking advantage of someone who was adorably innocent about some of the more finer matters of social life. Roz was not someone that surprised often or easily, but the surprise was in how she was responding to Honey; she didn’t think people like her existed in Beverly Hills High - but that’s probably because Honey was from the east coast by admission. If nothing else, Honey was certainly living up to her namesake. A sweet kid who was too good to be crushing on Roz.

“Romance ain’t dead.” Roz shook her head rather mildly, drawing her arm through the water and watching the ripples left in her wake. “Just that you ain’t gonna find it with people who trade sex like they’re stock options. What does anyone on this boat know about romance when there are rooms being rented out for sex like it’s a hooker’s hotel? When half the student body is willing to blow the other half for even a hint of notoriety, of course it’s gonna seem like romance is dead. That’s the thing. A bunch of rich kids with parents who get off on fucking over the little guy ain’t gonna know how to do anything but think with their dicks. Coz that’s what they are. To them, the only thing that matters is status. Dickin’ down the head cheerleader or jerkin’ off the Elite in a blowbang, it’s all about showing off. This party is an extension of that. Just bored kids with too much money waving their dick in the air because no one has ever told them no.”

The metaphor got lost from her halfway through her little rah-rah rant but she spoke with conviction enough to convince herself that what she was saying made sense. For a moment in time, Roz forgot the company she was keeping and offered a word of apology when the water calmed.

“Present company excluded, of course. Don’t stop believin’ in romance, it’ll find you.” The game was continuing and Roz had to shake her head to shift focus back to it. “I’ve never stolen from a store or anythin’. Between you an’ me, though, I’ve stolen somethin’ from every party I’ve gone to. The beach party a couple days ago? That beach house is missin’ a vase. Probably cost more than my neighbor makes in six months. I’ve been eyein’ a couple of the painting’s on this boat. If one goes missin’, you didn’t hear it from me.”

From her surprised expression to Roz’s sudden and unexpected rant to her giggle from Roz’s response to her ‘never have i ever’, Honey was caught in the moment and incredibly intrigued. If she could have it her way, she’d want this to last forever. Roz may have been caught off guard by her naïveté, but Honey was proven right with her theories and didn’t find anything wrong with her crush. She always felt there was more to Roz than being an oddity in a rich school. There was something about how she held herself, that spoke volumes to her. A strong woman who had many beliefs and opinions, because it was the main thing keeping her afloat.

It was her purpose.

The game was no longer on her mind.

“Oh, I know. Kids may not think like me, but I’ll continue believing romance is out there. I can’t judge their love stories, because I don’t know the full story. I don’t know their story. And really, you can’t know if your love story has a happy ending until you see it through. I guess a lot of things are subjective, don’t you think? This is probably why the Weekend Warrior is so popular! They stick to their guns and stir up the pot, even if it’s kind of hurtful, some of the things they say… I’m a very adamant reader. Of both the Black and Orange and the Weekend Warrior.” She nodded to her matter-of-fact. “I actually didn’t go to the New Years party, because I was spending the eve with my dad, but reading the WW really made me glad I wasn’t there.”

She paused to catch her breath, before looking into Roz’s eyes with a contemplative expression, “At the same time, I’ve seen these people, and don’t feel like the article was very accurate on who they are. Maybe I’m just hopeful. Maybe I think no one really has any huge agendas besides being a teen and trying to make high school not suck… Maybe I think there’s good in everyone... but I think part of why I keep up with the school paper and the WW is because I find it interesting how they both tell us how to think.

“I love reading how they voice their argument.” Honey leaned back on the pool’s rim, looking up at the ceiling, “Sorry, I went off on my own rant just now...” Honey was forgetting what the original point of their conversation was.

Were Roz one for vanity she might have smiled from the moment Honey mentioned being a reader of the Warrior. Granted she didn’t know Honey as well as she perhaps would’ve liked, but based purely on the night’s interactions she didn’t peg the girl for the type to bother with something like the Warrior. The reputation for the blog was that it was essentially Beverly Hills High’s very own tabloid and Roz resented the comparison. Tabloids dealt in bullshit stories for people that thought reality television was the pinnacle of human achievement. The Weekend Warrior was closer to a manifesto, a call to arms for any student who felt out of place or pushed around by the faux authority of the ruling class that was a high school caste system.

It killed her that no one seemed to understand that. It killed her twice that it was seen as little more than a burn blog.

“You read Weekend Warrior? It’s a bit rubbish, unless you like your journalism yellower than piss at a drug test.” Roz doubted that Honey was aware that the creator and head contributor to the Weekend Warrior was floating in the pool and she would prefer to keep it that way. The point of anonymity was to make the students feel that any one of them could be the Warrior and while she trusted Honey enough to let her guard down, she didn’t trust a host who took time to specifically roll out the red carpet for her.

“If I were you I wouldn’t poison your mind with that rubbish. From what I’ve seen you’ve a good head on your shoulders. It’d be a shame to lose it.” If it was odd to slander her own work, Roz didn’t seem particularly bothered by it. Likely because they were her words and she was allowed her criticisms so long as they came from her. Or Number One. “How someone like you hasn’t been swallowed up by this school I don’t know. You’re interestin’, Honey.”

Being in the pool relaxed her body and having drank as much as she did, when she’s never drank that much before, inevitably made Honey’s high turn to a crash. Her eyes were getting heavy, it was probably way past the time she found herself snuggled in a blanket burrito reading a book or a variety of articles. “I like reading and I like to know what everyone’s talking about. The Weekend Warrior happens to be the most talked about thing.” She let out a wide yawn before continuing, “I’ll be okay, I promise. To get ‘swallowed’ in this school, I need friends.” She chuckled at her unfortunate reality. “But I don’t think a good friend would change who I am. I’ll do my best to keep my optimism for as long as I’m alive. It’s the only way I know how to be.”

Over time (during their conversation) all distance was broken between them. Absentmindedly, Honey rested her head on Roz’s shoulder. “You’re more interesting, Roz. You got a good head on your shoulders too... very smart, very wise, very strong.... Sure, you got lots of pent up anger and aggression, all that spice, but you’re still good.” There was a pause as the blonde gradually closed her eyes and mumbled, “Yeah, still good.”

The remainder of the party seemed to all mesh together. One moment, Laurel was slightly naked and hanging out with a stranger, and the next, she was fully clothed and leaving with said stranger. Wasn’t that usually supposed to go the other way around? Regardless, the blonde was pleased that her new friend had offered to drive her home. He was a nice kid- a good looking kid- so the gesture was welcome. Extremely welcome, in fact.

As she sat in the passenger’s seat of Mason’s blue Toyota Tacoma, still wrapped in his jacket, she couldn’t help but wonder how the night would have gone if she hadn’t played that game of strip poker. Although it was a bit of an inconvenience, it made for an interesting adventure. But for now, she was looking forward to getting home and going to bed- after all, she had practice first thing in the morning. “So you’re going to take a left here, and then I’ll let you know when to turn again.” Laurel instructed the boy as he drove, helping him find his way to her house that overlooked the water.

“Sure thing.” Mason replied, nodding his head to the music that played from the speakers. Usually, the music was a lot louder than it was now, but Mason had it turned low enough that he could hear Laurel’s instructions. He stole a glance over at her and wondered when it would be kosher for him to ask to get that jacket back. It had some of his things inside of it!

Mason had made an attempt to get in her pants, but after testing the waters, it’d seemed like she wasn’t in the mood. And he couldn’t blame her! She had her shit stolen and then they had to travel around the entire goddamn boat to find it, so if she didn’t want to bang after all that… hey, more power to her. As he drove down the street, he made another comment, to keep things from getting too quiet and awkward. “So. I guess we can check ‘party like a rockstar on a yacht’ off of our list after tonight, huh? It wasn’t too bad. Not for me anyway, I thought it was pretty money. But you got it a little worse, I guess.”

Laurel smirked, looking over at Mason as he drove. He had a nice profile- a strong jaw and defined features stood out in the darkness as the passing car lights splashed across his face. “I guess we can.” She replied, letting a soft laugh escape her lips. “It wasn’t all that bad… just a little interesting at parts.” The blonde rationalized. It was true; other than the disappearance and re-emergence of her clothes, the night was good. Expensive alcohol and great music lessened the blow of walking around the party half naked. “Thanks for helping, by the way. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Hey, no problem. Walking around with no clothes is shitty, and giving you a ride home isn’t a big deal, I like to drive actually so it’s cool.” Mason said, turning and smiling warmly at her for a brief second with the light of another passing car. “If I left you alone, I would have felt bad all night, so that definitely wasn’t happenin’. And besides, once I gave you my jacket? You’re stuck with me until I get it back.” There, that was subtle enough. Was the jacket the only reason Mason was driving her home? Absolutely not, but it would have been a lie to say it wasn’t part of the reason. And his mama didn’t raise no liar.

“Oh right, your jacket… I forgot about that.” Lies. A hint of a smile clear in her voice, Laurel played coy. She had been inhaling the prevalent scent of the jacket all evening- it was calming, protective, something she craved. But, she wouldn’t admit that, even though she was dreading giving it back. The blonde continued her train of thought. “I guess that’s the real reason you’ve been following me all night- take a right turn here.” She played.

“It’s not the only reason,” Mason replied, somewhat defensively. He took the turn as she told him to, and rolled his eyes. “‘sides, you can keep it if you want, but it is a pretty nice jacket. And it’s got sentimental value, it’s been by my side since I was thirteen. So, I mean… you’d be taking a part of me with you, whenever you wear it.” Mason shook his head dramatically, taking a hand off of the steering wheel and putting it over his chest, “that would be so touching. But you’d have to make a big trade for it!”

The blonde couldn’t help but laugh once more. She wasn’t planning on keeping the jacket, but she continued on, curiosity getting the better of her. “Oh? And what kind of big trade would you accept?” Laurel asked, wiggling her eyebrows dramatically in the darkness.

“Well, I mean…” Mason trailed off for a moment, seeming like he was going to let unspoken words speak for him, but then he spoke in a voice that was almost comically dramatic, “a kiss, my kingdom for a kiss!” And then, like he often found himself doing, Mason laughed at himself.

“In that case,” She paused, a smirk slowly forming on her face. Letting the silence hang for a moment too long, Laurel continued her thought. “Looks like I'll be returning your jacket.” The game she was playing continued as the car rolled down the dark road covered in night. Laurel didn’t usually do this- but tonight was not your usual night. Pointing to the illuminated and reflective street sign in the distance, she let out a sigh. “Take a left here, and my house is the third one on the right.”

“What I wanted all along,” Mason replied smoothly, not missing a bump despite her reply. He smiled and followed her directions, turning and then pulling to a smooth stop in front of her home. “Alright, your chariot has arrived, my lady.” Mason said as he shifted the car into park, idly eyeing her house, to see what he was dealing with.

His response only made it harder to keep the act going. Laurel wasn’t one to usually throw herself at a man- but it didn’t count if he had tried earlier, right? Exhaling audibly as the car came to a halt, she glanced over at him. “Thanks.” The blonde plainly stated, turning to open the door. She could have took off the jacket and exited, but where was the fun in that? She wasn’t exactly in the mood earlier, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t in the mood now. Instead of pulling the handle to depart, she knocked her hand against the lock, doing the exact opposite. “Oops.” Laurel stated looking over her shoulder at Mason. “But that reminds me...”

As graceful as she could, the blonde somehow snaked her way over the middle barrier between the passenger’s seat and the driver’s seat, letting her legs straddle either side of the brunette. All of her gymnastics training being put to good use. Seemingly unphased by the sudden contact, Laurel peeled the jacket off of her shoulders, holding it in between her chest and his. “Almost forgot again. My apologies.”

“You see, you almost make it seem like you want the jacket,” Mason said in a teasing tone, winking at her in the lowlight provided by a streetlamp. Rather than touch her, though, Mason instead gingerly took the jacket from her, and sat it in the back behind him. “Thank you kindly.” Mason could feel the shift in attitude that Laurel had undergone, and he knew the mood was slowly coming back around, but he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. Where most teenage boys would have gone ballistic on her already, Mason seemed to enjoy it when she had to be on the offensive.

“Really, it is an important jacket, so I hope you understand my wanting it back. Without a big trade, that is.”

Laurel nodded, maintaining her external indifference surrounding the situation. “Oh, I understand.” She took the opportunity to snake her arms around Mason’s shoulders and neck, leaning in closer. “Completely, understand.” After remaining there for a few moments, letting the tension build, she let the distance grow between them once more like the tease she was- like she had been all night.

“It’s not often that you meet a girl who understands, you know?” Mason asked, sliding his arms around her waist, and keeping his eyes locked onto hers. “Usually, all they want to do is just kiss, and kiss and kiss until the clothes come off. I’m impressed you’ve made it this far, honestly.”

“Well that’s because I’ve already had my clothes off tonight, champ.” Laurel stated, subtly biting her lip and wrapping her around him the slightest bit tighter. “I skipped a step.” She remarked.

“Oof, you’re stealing my thing there, champ. I guess you did already get stripped down…” Mason paused for a second and tapped his chin, looking around the area that surrounded them. “I don’t mean to assume, but you could strip back down. It might get a little hot if we’re snuggled so closely together, you know?”

With a shrug, Laurel swiftly crossed her arms at the base of her shirt, gripped the fabric, and seamlessly pulled the tank off of her chest for the second time this evening. With a playful smile as she threw it aside, she leaned in closely until she could feel her breath and Mason’s only centimeters apart. “At least this time I’ll know where my clothes are.” After letting the tension build for what felt like hours, Laurel crashed her lips against his, closing the distance between them and letting her carefree façade disappear.

Here we go, finally. Mason let her lock lips with him, running his hand up her back and to her hair, bringing her closer to him as he parted his lips and slipped her tongue inside. Sure, a night of build up wasn’t that much, but for teenagers? That night of build up might as well have been a goddamn century. Now, though, Mason was doing what he’d wanted to do since the beginning of their interactions.

Laurel deepened the kiss, releasing her pent up emotions that she had been bottling up all evening. She had enjoyed the chase and had her fun, but now was the good part. She let her lips find their way to the crook of Mason’s neck, planting kisses and small bites along his skin. He was right- due to their close proximity the temperature of the car seemed to skyrocket, or it was simply the fact her heart was beating faster than before. Making her way back to Mason’s lips, she smiled into the kiss.

So this was what it felt like, huh? His mom had told him in the past that one day, he’d hook up with someone and there’d be a spark, but he hadn’t really believed her. Now, however, it seemed like he was almost certainly experiencing the fabled spark. He turned his neck to give her more area to work with and as she worked her way back to his lips, Mason was ready for her, and met the kiss by leaning into it.

The blonde girl let her hands slide down Mason’s chest, her fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. He had seen her without her top multiple times now, so it was only fair that he showed himself off as well. Pressing her forehead against his, letting her lips escape his for a moment, she smirked. “Your turn.” She said in between breaths, as she began to pull the fabric off of his body. As she did so, she instinctively leaned back in order for the shirt to pass in between them, making sure she didn’t get a face full of fabric.

Unfortunately for her, she leaned back too far, causing her bare back to fall right against the horn of Mason’s car. The loud honk shocked Laurel so much that she nearly jumped off of the boys lap, crashing into his now bare chest.

Well that’s one way to ruin a moment.

“Ack!” Mason said as the sound went off, and he may have pulled her a bit closer to him, almost protectively. He looked up at the ceiling of the vehicle, their moment once again shattered. At least this time, it had a chance to happen, rather than be ruined by the beginning. “...are you okay?” He asked, staring at her with wide eyes. He hardly even knew what happened; the horn had somewhat ripped him from another headspace he was in.

Laurel needed a few seconds to catch her breath after what was probably the biggest scare she’d had in a while. She rested her head in the crook of Mason’s neck as she continued to breathe and let her heart slow back down to a normal rate. “Yup...just peachy.” The blonde replied, sitting back up and looking him in the eye. In her peripheral vision, she could see the upstairs light in her house flip on, which could only mean one thing. “Shit! My parents!” Laurel squealed, her eyes growing as wide as Mason’s.

Oh, well that wasn’t good. Mason slapped around in the dark behind himself, hunting for Laurel’s shirt. “Well, I have to admit. I definitely saw meeting your parents going differently, in my head, champ.” He said numbly, twisting his body to look behind him — accidentally bumping Laurel into the horn again in the process. “Fuck.” He said, shaking his head. They couldn’t catch a break, could they?

“Dammit, Mace!” Laurel exclaimed, the horn shocking her and catching her off guard once more. Looking over at her house, she saw another light turn on upstairs, which could only mean that her parents were walking downstairs. Trying to reach back where she threw her shirt, her ass very much near Mason’s face, she tried to feel around on the back seat to find her top in the dark. But, alas, she could not find it. What a metaphor for the evening.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Laur murmured to herself, her search coming up with nothing and the time ticking down on the imaginary clock.

With her ass in his face, and his doom presumably coming down the stairs, Mason shifted back into his chill, nonchalant attitude. He might as well enjoy himself if things were about to end, right? “Hey, you’re a gymnast right?” He asked, casually helping her look for the shirt — but his heart wasn’t in the hunt anymore.

Laurel grumbled, “Now’s not the time, Mason!” She blurted before her hand grabbed a hold of a piece of material that felt familiar. Her shirt!... wait a minute, this wasn’t her shirt. Sitting back upright, she held Mason’s jacket in her left hand, examining it and then gazing at him. In her periphery, she could see her front door opening, more light streaming out into the street.

Game over.

Making a quick decision, the girl raised an eyebrow. “Guess you won’t be getting your jacket back tonight after all, champ.” Planting one more kiss on his lips before untangling herself from him. Laurel threw the familiar jacket over her shoulders once more as she climbed over the cupholders and onto the passengers side. She smirked over at Mason.

“Homeroom, tomorrow. You’ll need a good trade to get this back.” Unlocking the door swiftly, Laur jumped out of the car, walking towards her mother who was standing in the doorway disapprovingly. With one last glance back at Mason before her imminent doom, Laurel sent a wink in his direction, disappearing into the house, the lights flickering off moments after.

“Yeah, I can tell she’s a gymnast. Apple butt.” Mason muttered, before shifting the car back into gear. The saga would continue, in that case.

The knocking on the door was rapid and random, done by a panicked young man. He was pounding on the door and trying to get the attention of the occupants, but it wasn’t working. It didn’t seem like anyone was going to answer, but he didn’t stop. There was even a noise of acknowledgment from the other side of the door, but still, he did not stop knocking.

It was then that the hellcat stepped in.

From atop a shelf where pictures of a young Owen and Ruby were, Oreo leaped onto Sebastian’s shoulder, clawing down the young man’s arms. “Owowowowowowowow!” The cat slid down his arm and to his legs, where he again scratched him.

Then, there was more yelling, this time from a different person. “I told him to get that fucking cat in his room!” The voice yelled, and then the door finally opened, revealing an angry looking Owen Lyon, and a Trixie Kingsley who was wearing only a baggy t-shirt that belonged to her man, sitting on the bed.

“What the fuck do you want, Baby Bash?! I’m fucking busy!” Owen snapped, shaking his head

“You’re suspended! And don’t call me that, it’s embarrassing...”

“Trixie, tell Baby Bash I’m busy.”

Crossing her arms, while rolling her eyes, Trixie scolded her boyfriend, “Don’t be rude, Owen. He said don’t call him Baby Bash.” Her chocolate eyes went from her man to the other man, “Well, anyways, Baby Bash, what do you want? I was just about to get some.” Not so subtly hinting where her mind was at.

Owen looked over at Trixie and shook his head. Really? Before he could speak and try again to shoo Sebastian out of his room, though, Sebastian immediately unloaded. “I need help! I made a big mistake and I’m screwed and you’re the only one I can ask and if I ask anyone else they’re gonna make fun of me, or like Scott will beat me up! Wait, didn’t you and Trixie break up? What is she doing here? Why is she naked?”

Should she let Owen answer? Nah! That wouldn’t be fun. Standing up, making her way next to her boyfriend, she leaned her head against his arm, “I am naked because we had sex all night and we were going to have even more sex, right now.” Then she showcased her left hand, with the ring, “We kissed and made up, BB. Now please! Do tell.”

“We ought to just let Scott slap him around.” Owen stated, rolling his eyes as he let Bash inside, who shut the door behind himself.

“I lied. I lied a lot, about… I lied about having a girlfriend! And now I need to find one because I decided I wanted to go to school with you guys, and like, I need… help. Do you have any ideas? You’re the only one that I can get help from, because like… Scott will just be an asshole and everyone else will just bully me.” Bash complained, and Owen stepped toward him.

“Oh, you motherfucker. You motherfucker. ‘She goes to another school,’ he says!” Owen snapped, and Sebastian visibly cringed and shrunk a bit, as if he thought Owen might hit him. “Are you kidding me?!”

“Shuuuush, Kitty. It’s okay.” Trixie naturally responded to Owen’s moment of hysteria, before turning her head towards Sebastian and questioning his… action, “... what was the purpose? To lie about that specific thing?”

“I don’t know, all my uncles think I should be a lady killer like my grandfather was, but I’m really not, and now I’m just fucked, aren’t I? Scott will never let me hear the end of it.” Sebastian said, shaking his head in despair. Owen looked at him and scoffed.

“You’re such a bitch, dude. I think I have an idea, but it’s gonna cost you. Like, actual cash. You got cash, right?” He asked, and in response, Sebastian reached inside of his jacket pocket and pulled out a wrapped stack of hundred dollar bills, proudly denoted as ‘$5,000.’ “That might do it. Let me make a call.” Owen shook his head and put his phone to his ear after tapping a contact that he hadn’t in a long time.

Ring ring.

“If Meg doesn’t pick up you’re fucked. But she likes me, so maybe she’ll answer.”

“Wait, you’re calling, Magnolia? She hates me.” Trixie was coming to realize a lot of people didn’t like her. “Why are you calling her? Because she’ll do anything for a fucking buck?” There was a time where she might have almost gotten in a cat fight with the bitch, who overstepped her boundaries, touching Owen like he was her’s. Trixie was not pleased.

Damn, Trixie could be so violent sometimes. Owen made a mental note to help Trixie make nice with all the people in her life that she hated or that hated her. All that hate was going to go straight to her thighs. Wait, that might not be too bad… “Well, yeah, Meg can be bought.” Came Owen’s nonchalant reply, not realizing that his friend had just answered the phone.

“Is that so?” ‘Magnolia’ purred on the other line. There was a reason why she went with Meg, she disdained that name, with every fiber of her being, “You gonna’ fight again?” Yeah, if he was trying to buy her for something, might as well negotiate, so she ends up winning.

“No, not interested.”

“You fucking pussy.”

“Winning gets tiring. Lookin’ to rent you.” Owen wasn’t going to get baited, not when there was serious business that needed to be done. Did this count as ‘serious’ business? He supposed it did, since Little Bash would cry and whine to his parents if Owen didn’t help out.

Sebastian glanced over at Trixie, with a confused look on his face. “Wait, who’s Meg?”

“A hot girl with nothing to lose.” Concise. Straight to the point. That was Meg in a nutshell. No money, besides what she got on her own, with looks she uses as a weapon.

“Your girlfriend makes me sound dumb. Am I on speaker?”

“No, and you’re not going to be. Be here in five minutes. No more than six.” Owen responded. If Trixie and Meg were going to have a fight, then he at least wanted it to be in person so he could watch them roll around on the ground together. Maybe they’d have a mental break and kiss.

“If I wasn’t in the area already doing business, you’d be out of luck, bud. You do realize I live in the Valley, right? Whatever. See you in five.” The line went dead.

“Did you seriously invite her over, Owen?!” Trixie unlatched from his arm, anger building up inside her tiny body. “As if finding out my best friends are fucking lying cunts weren’t enough, you invited her?!”

Here we go. He forgot about this part; the jealousy part. Now, Owen was into it, but sometimes it got to be a little much. Meg was a friend, nothing more, and eventually Trixie would learn that. Probably, though? Not today. “I surely did. Now, I’m gonna turn around and I’m gonna push Baby Bash here out the door, so he can go wait on the porch and buy himself a girlfriend. When I turn back around, you’re going to be naked again. Any questions?” Owen said, looking down at Trixie after she finished screeching at him.

Glaring up at him, while biting her tongue, Trixie didn’t say a word, but it was obvious she had gotten quite heated. Meg didn’t have any boundaries and Trixie wasn’t stupid. Meg adored Owen and always was on his dick about fighting. Tsk. Owen took the silence as compliance, and turned, putting a hand on Bash’s shoulder and pushing him toward the door. “C’mon, now. She’ll be here in five minutes. She’s like a shark, just wave the money around and the clothes come off. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

Despite the assurances that came from Owen, Bash’s worried, and hurried complaints were quick. “Wait, what? What if she doesn’t like me? What if I don’t have enough? What do I say? I don’t know how to do this! I’ve never bought a person before!”

“DON’T. CARE.” Slam.

Owen turned around. Trixie did exactly what he said and a little bit more. Along with being naked, on his bed, with a still angry face on, her legs were open. She’s been waiting for this literally all morning. What?

Five minutes later.

Having changed out of her red edm outfit into more casual wear, well once the police chase was over and done with, Meg pulled up onto the front lawn of one of the houses on the Four Corners, with a Fischer MRX 650 that she may have obtained by illegal means. After taking off her black helmet, waving her hair so that it can drop in place, on her shoulders, she hooked the safety gear on the handle and made her way to the porch where a boy she didn’t recognize was standing, waiting. Her long, sharp nails that resembled black claws ran through her sleek hair, before she aggressively asked, “Who are you?”

Yikes. This was the one? Well, she was hot, at least Trixie was right about that. Her attitude though, that was definitely there… and wasn’t exactly what Bash had been imagining when he’d lied about his girlfriend, but hey. Beggars can’t be choosers, and bro was definitely a beggar at the moment. He stood up, and gave her a wide smile. “Hi. I’m Sebastian Lyon. Owen said I could rent you?”

“Wait, come again. What is your name?” Her resting bitch face turned quickly to bafflement. Did he say he was… Sebastian - Lyon?

There was a pause, before he repeated himself, staring at her. Was she dumb? Maybe she was dumb. “Sebastian Lyon.”

“You’re fucking funny. You are not the goddamn Reaper.” This was a joke. Owen was playing — a practical joke on her. “Okay, where is Owen, Sebastian?” She said sarcastically. Not really wanting to talk to a poser.

“...no, that’s my grandfather. I’m, uh, named after him? Owen’s upstairs with Trixie. You probably shouldn’t interrupt them. I wouldn’t, anyway.” This was going absolutely terrible, wasn’t it? Maybe he should have just taken the L and fought Scott. “Look, do you wanna do it or not?”

“Oh, gross. Owen can do so much better.” Meg’s annoyance flooded her demeanor, before she tilted her head at the boy named after the great Lyon. “Sex? Right here? Sure. How much?”

“Troy would execute us if we had sex on his porch,” was BB’s response, then he shook his head. That wasn’t what he wanted at all! His words were jumbled and his intentions were marred by them. “I just want you to pretend to be my girlfriend! Like, come to school with me, and stuff.” He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the stack of bills, holding it out in her direction. “This much?”

“Woah, woah, woah, buttercup.” Meg looked at the large stack of money, pushing it away with her hands. Dude, how old was this kid? He did not seem to be a Lyon, like at all. Did he know what he was even saying?

So a girlfriend, huh. That was… ‘sweet’. There’s got to be more to it (and perhaps she could get more out of this). “Don’t you know how to do business? You don’t just show your hand right off the back, dumbass.” Even if her words were offensive, she meant well. “So... let me get this straight, you want me to pretend to be your girl. Correct?”

“Dude, if you think that’s all the money I have, then you don’t know who I am. I can make double that in less than ten seconds” Sebastian said, in an almost dismissive voice as he looked at her as if she were crazy. With the few seconds that it took him to say that, there was the flash of the Lyon blood flaring up in him. “...yeah, pretend to be my girl. I need people to believe I have a devoted girlfriend.”

And just like that, it was gone.

Okay, now she could see it. “For how long? And I want money weekly.”

“Five grand a week? You’d better have a high libido.” There wasn’t much on this planet worth that much money,

“You’re the one that needs a fake girlfriend, not me. Five grand. Every week.”

“Whatever, man. And I just haven’t found time to get a real girlfriend!” He seemed to be slipping in and out of living up to his namesake. “I guess three weeks. Then I’ll dump you. And you have to be really fucked up about it on social media.”

Rather than immediately respond to him, she stepped up on the porch and grabbed his shirt’s collar, yanking him closer to her, “Sounds good to me, baby.” And with that, she closed the deal with a kiss. Owen was right. She would do anything for money.

Katie sat up in bed, her hair a mess, her face bare, her eyes half shut from exhaustion. She groaned and swung her feet out of bed, stepping into her bathroom and turning the shower on and letting it heat up. When it was finally steaming, she stepped in, and let the hot water run over her body, and slowly begin to pull her from the realm of sleep.

Once her shower routine was done, Katie got out, toweled herself off, and went over to her vanity, where she began her makeup. She thought back to last night, on the boat with Scott. Something had switched there. Clicked. She wasn’t quite sure what, but something had been different last night. Even if he was being a creepy perv, per usual, she found it almost endearing now. What the fuck was happening to her?

Katie’s morning passed in a haze. She ate breakfast, and Jamie eventually came down to drive them to school. Before she knew it, they were parked, and Katie was walking in, along with what felt like a million faceless students. God this was a big school.

Once she was in the halls, she saw him, almost instantly. Scott Lyon. Jesus fuck. Had he always been that hot? The jawline? The hat? The light dusting of scruff on his chin? She strutted up to him, tongue in cheek, and watched as his friends quieted down, awed by her arrival. “Hey, so, can we talk? Like, privately?” she asked, looking up at Scott, her face a mixture of emotions, embarrassment chief among them, followed by a healthy dose of annoyance, confusion, and maybe some lust.

Scott was more than surprised when Katie approached him, rather than yelling at him from across the hall. That she did it in front of his friends made it even more impressive. When she spoke to him in a voice that was almost shy, Scott had no idea what to say. The night before, on the ship… it was different. Scott wouldn’t deny that. It was different than any interaction they’d had before, and perhaps any interaction they’d have in the future. They were nice to each other there. Could it continue now? Staying true to himself, Scott had to believe that it couldn’t. Their… whatever they had ran too deep. Not arguing would be almost inhuman.

But, Scott had to stay true to himself; and he did want to talk to her. He did want to be alone with her again. Maybe they could manage if they were alone. Was that what sparked it? Outside pressure? “Uhm, yes. Sure. Where?” Scott asked, gesturing for her to lead the way to their haven.

Wringing her hands together like some sort of neurotic, recent release from the Looney Bin, Katie walked across the hall to an empty room, looking back to make sure Scott was following. Once inside, Katie turned, and waited for Scott to close the door, before blurting out, “I love you!” What was that? Love? Scott? Really? Only it felt so right. It just...made sense. Like an instinct she had, something she knew she had to do. For some reason, her loving Scott, it was a fact of life.

Scott shut the door behind him, and then as soon as he turned around, Katie blurted something at her that he thought he’d never hear. It felt like music to his ears, though, and Scott felt his heart and pride soar as he nodded, “I love you too!” A pause. “I really do. I love you, Katie Callaghan. I don’t know how or why I didn’t see it before” He took a daring step forward, “You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

So what did she do next? The only rational option. She kissed him. A real, passionate, intense kiss. Time froze as they melded together, pushed into each other, until finally, Katie pulled away to take in some air. Only, when she looked back, Scott wasn’t there. In his place was Noah, drunk and stumbling around. Katie’s face scrunched up in confusion, until Noah was replaced by a shark, flopping around on the floor, snapping at her feet.

---

Shrieking, Katie sat up in bed, her forehead drenched in a cold sweat. She looked around frantically, confused by her sudden change in surroundings. It took her a moment to realize...she’d been dreaming. “Holy fuck,” she muttered, before stepping out of bed and shuffling into the bathroom, squinting as she passed by her window, which already had sunlight streaming in.

In the bathroom, Katie hunched over her sink, splashing her face with water. She looked up into the mirror, and shook her head.

“What the fuck is up with you, Katie?”

The Blue Lantern was the name of the restaurant. It had a beautiful location, overlooking the lovely city of Los Angeles from one of the hills. It had three Michelin stars. It was lauded internationally for one thing in particular, its breakfast and brunch cuisine. It was said that if you placed a reservation today, for the next open eight thirty A.M. spot, they would have be able to find an opening for you within the next two years. Today, at eight thirty A.M., the Blue Lantern was deserted, except for one table, set outside on the patio.

The staff was there, of course, they had to get ready. But the store was closed to the general public for now. The owner had willed it so. Were they losing money over this? Yes, of course. It was possible they even lost some of their goodwill over this, but it didn’t matter to the owner, and she paid their checks. She had requested a private place to conduct business while enjoying a meal, and she had received one.

The owner was Hailey Green.

She was now seated at the head of the patio table; next to her was the love of her life, girlfriend, pet, and most prized possession: Hana Park. Together, they were sipping tea and waiting for their guest. Hailey had yet to place her order, thinking it rude to do so while they were waiting for someone else. She had, however, retrieved vanilla tea for herself and Hana.

While the speakers in the restaurant most commonly played classical music: Bach, Beethoven, Mozart… It now played a song of Hailey’s choice, which Hailey bobbed her head too, before glancing at Hana, “did you sleep well? Our guest should be here soon. I don’t anticipate this taking very long.”

Hana was no stranger to fine dining establishments given the business her father was in, but even so she was impressed. Never had she been in a restaurant without other people there; though she knew this was essentially a business meeting, she still saw it as a private little meal between her and the girl she was madly in love with. It would not have surprised Hana at all if that was a secondary goal of the morning’s brunch. Certainly the tea was a lovely little touch and Hana was quite fond of the flavor.

Hana had enjoyed a bit more of her tea than Hailey had, the vanilla flavor was too much to simply not enjoy; her sips were a bit longer than the regular sip and her cup was now half empty because of it. Whoever brewed it was exceptional, the vanilla wasn’t overpowering and the sweetness lingered delicately on the tongue. Hana was very much interested in securing a recipe for her own purposes; certainly that could be arranged.

”Like a dream.” Hana responded to Hailey as she set her teacup on its saucer. She had slept wonderfully, even more so after being woken up; she slept a bit more soundly after that - and with a contented smile to boot. That contented feeling carried through full to this restaurant; even if she was merely an observer, Hana was just happy to be here, at Hailey’s side and at her request. Who Hailey was meeting didn’t much matter to Hana. She would just enjoy her tea while the adults talked.

”You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Roz Norcross was already annoyed when she saw the front of the restaurant and immediately wrote it off as place for ‘folks what eat fish eggs on crackers and act like it’s worth cumming over’ and her annoyance only increased as she walked through the doors into a ghost town. That her mysterious benefactor had money to spare was no surprise given the donation that led to this meeting, but if this person seriously rented out the most bougie ass restaurant for Roz’s sake...Roz was liable to puke in one of the fancy looking vases in the main lobby.

The hired help at the front desk gave Roz a once over and Roz did not at all pretend not to see the help give the look of repulsion that was typically reserved for these people seeing a beggar on the street. Or a mixed race couple. Given that Roz was on the guest list, she didn’t feel the need to dress up for the occasion. She made a point to dress down in an act of defiance so simple it was probably cooked up last minute. While she didn’t look like a beggar, her shirt was wrinkled and had numerous holes to it with each one clearly being hand made via scissors, her jeans were one good tug at the denim hanging off from being Daisy Dukes. If it wasn’t for her boots or her vest, or the fact that her hair was washed she might’ve passed the ‘trying too hard’ Olympics in the teenage rebel category.

She was led through the restaurant - taking note of what was both not tied down and easily swiped along the way - and dropped off right by the entrance to the patio table. And that was when her expletive repeated itself. ”You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. I should’ve fuckin’ figured.” Hailey Green. Of course it would be her. What sick, twisted game was she trying to play this time. Roz’s eyes darted to Hana a moment before going back to Hailey. ”Who’s she, your stenographer? That’s the person what writes down testimony in court, by the way.” This was going to be a fuck of a time.

Could her language be anymore vulgar? This was an awful first impression to make on an already slightly irritated Hailey. First, the woman swore like a sailor would, which was unattractive to begin with. Then she questioned why Hana was there, as if it were any of her business. Hailey could feel her enthusiasm dropping as she sat there, but she tried her best to stay positive.

“I know what a stenographer is, but thank you. She is my girlfriend. I brought her as a date.” Hailey said in a terse tone as she looked the newcomer up and down. She wasn’t able to put a name to a face, but she had to admit… she was disappointed with what the ‘Weekend Warrior’ looked like. Hailey didn’t know what she expected, but she had thought there’d be… more to it. “You’re less put together than I thought you would be. At least it doesn’t reflect in your work. Are you going to a Sex Pistols concert after this?” Hailey asked with a smile that was undeniably put up to be condescending.

She looked over her shoulder toward Butler, who was standing off to the side, as silent and intimidating as ever. “Butler, be a doll and fetch us menus. We can finally eat, now that our warrior is here.” She ended her statement with a snap of her fingers, and away Butler went, ducking inside of the restaurant for a moment, before he returned with a stack of them, handing one to Hailey and placing one in front of Hana. The third, he put down on the table. Their guest could get it herself. “Please, sit down. I’m sure you’ll find something to your liking on the menu.”

”A date, izzit? Your idea of a date is this? Well, don’t I feel special.” Roz sat opposite Hailey and politely gestured to the server who couldn’t be fucked to hand her a menu like a civilized person a proper one finger salute before not even so much as glancing at the menu. This wasn’t exactly a friendly meet and greet over mimosas and salmon roe. Whatever was on the menu was probably out of her price range anyway.

”So, the drug dealer, eh? Figured drugs were more your brother’s thing but then I guess you and he have something else in common.” Roz was certainly not about to let the shovel go to waste as she slowly started to dig her own grave. Hana, who had very little idea just who this person was that Hailey had been so keen on meeting, gave a surprised look, as if she was offended at the title of ‘drug dealer’. Roz shot the Korean girl a simple shrug while she was unfolding one of the origami napkins. ”I know some things, ‘Pizza Man’. Stupid name, by the way.”

Roz was tearing bits of napkin and rolling them into little napkin balls, fidgeting like she was a tweaker searching for the next fix. ”So are you going to tell me why I’m here or are you just going to sit there in a cloud of smug?”

“Hana has decided to take a sabbatical from drug dealing. She’s rethinking her decisions and deciding if she wants to continue down that path.” Hailey said, watching as Roz ripped and tore at the napkin. It reminded her of something that Henry might do, which caused her to circle back to Roz’s comparisons. “Henry and I have nothing in common. What on earth could you be talking about? And, I’d like to remind you, you’re the one who asked for an in-person meeting. I just wanted to thank you.” Hailey smiled, and put her hands together with her elbows on the table. She leaned her chin forward onto on her cradled fingers, “after all, your blog does a lot of my job for me. I really appreciate your hard work and help.”

Roz looked Hailey in the eye as if she was pulling the other one even before she mentioned the slight specifics of their meeting. Surely Hailey wasn’t serious - or blind - or maybe she just didn’t know. By now half the damn internet probably knew, let alone the school. ”I mean you and he both caught a case of the yellow fever. Though at least your girl looks like there’d be grass on the pitch. Your brother’s fuckin’ the exchange kid - emphasis on kid.” Roz was genuinely surprised that Hailey didn’t know, but then who would want to know about the finer details of their sibling’s love life?

”You wouldn’t agree to this meeting if you didn’t stand to gain somethin’ from it. Make your pitch, yeah? I need to know how much to laugh.”

Oh, no. Henry had seriously hooked up with Min-seo? Did his scumminess know no bounds? For a brief second, Hailey’s mask broke and she had a scowling look on her face. “Comparing what I and Hana are doing to whatever Henry and Min-seo are is simply wrong. After all, you said it yourself, didn’t you? Henry takes advantage of younger girls — particularly ones that can’t stand up for themselves. First an autistic one, now one that hardly speaks the language.” Hailey’s smile returned to her lips and she shook her head to dismiss the claim that Hailey wanted to gain something from Roz with this meeting.

“There really isn’t a pitch. I just wanted to thank you! You do all the hard work for me. The only thing I really gained from this is the information I got when you walked through the door.”

Who did she have to fuck to get some damn water here? If she expected it to matter, she was prepared to write the most scathing Yelp review. As if the people that ate here regularly even know what Yelp was. Or quality dining. If this had just been some ploy to give ammunition to Hailey Green then normally Roz might have been kicking herself but word around specific circles was that Hailey’s bite was a bit less sharp - not that Roz was about to test that theory. Blackmail, if that was the goal, didn’t work on someone like Roz when she had her own ace in the hole.

Or in the pocket of her vest, as it were, recording more than just audio.

”Yeah, I’m sure what you and the drug mule over there are doing is so much different. What is she, your bitch in training? You say jump, she sucks your toes on the way down, that kind of thing? Guess your ancestors got into the slave trade and you wouldn’t want to make them upset.” The first thing Roz had noticed when she saw Hana was the choker around her neck, and unless the Green’s were hiding a secret even Roz didn’t know about, she knew that choker wasn’t for sucking Hailey’s dick. Not literally, anyway. ”Let’s stop beatin’ around the bush, you do that enough with your little madame butterfly china doll there I’m sure, You want my services and I want your price.”

It was then, that Hailey twitched slightly. It had taken a bit to push her over the edge. She didn’t care about the shots at her, or about the idea that she was there because she wanted Roz’s ‘services.’ All Hailey wanted was confirmation that this was, in fact, the Weekend Warrior. That had been loudly and clearly received. However, the continued shots at her innocent Hana were unneeded, and did nothing but push the button. “You must be hard of hearing. Hana is my girlfriend, whatever else we do is none of your business.” Hailey’s face then contorted into a scowl.

“Perhaps you’re just stupid though, because you don’t understand the situation you’re in. I already get what I want from you. So long as you continue writing your little bootleg, poor man’s TMZ, I will continue to get what I want. There’s nothing you can do to stop or change that. I’m sure you’re recording this, one way or another, and I encourage, no I dare you to post it on the site. Do you think anything you can do will affect me? Honestly.” Hailey scoffed.

Roz was already rolling her eyes at Hailey’s response; it was typical of someone of her ilk to act like they were untouchable. Ivory towers weren’t impregnable and they crumbled just as well as any other building. ”Oh, I know for fact I’ve got met-”

“You will speak when I am finished. Know your place,” Hailey hissed out, running a slender hand through her black hair. “If you truly believe that you do anything for me other than make it easier to win, then you’re even more delusional than I would have ever thought. All you do, and please don’t ever let yourself forget this, is force people to think that Damian O’Connor, my brother, and all their friends are the enemy alongside me. I’ve read your little smear blog — and really, eighty percent of it is weak clickbait — and your little attempts to ‘unite the little man’ against myself and the — god what do they call themselves? — the Elite do nothing more than make it easier for me to be in control.”

“You weaken the case of the people who would side with you, and you make enemies out of people that everyone should fear. Look at you now. You could have had me with you, but now? I’m fully against you. You don’t get to come into my zone, and disrespect not only me, but her,” Hailey pointed at her lover, “and get away with it. Are you stupid? Are you honestly stupid? Is there a mental issue that I didn’t see when you came in here? Or are you so desperate for any modicum of attention from your peers that you’re willing to push this as a ‘one vs all’ narrative? You will lose this battle.”

“Okay, now you can talk.”

While Roz was both silent and still for the rebuttal, the same couldn’t be said for Hana, who couldn’t keep her eyes off of Hailey, save for when she closed her eyes and inhaled a moment when Hailey all but defended Hana’s person. Hana wasn’t speaking words, but her nonverbal squeaks and sounds were just loud enough for Hailey to hear and the way she was squirming in her seat was sight enough to let Hailey know what her words were doing to her while letting Roz think only that Hana was having a spasm attack.

At least one person at the table was enjoying the words from Hailey.

”You’re so self absorbed you think I give a shit about attention? From you? From peers? No one is untouchable no matter how much money or fame or infamy they have. If you think I do what I do for attention or for some stupid game then you’re even more of a vapid slag than I thought. You want to do a battle of wits, we’ll throw down, but don’t act like you’re some bad bitch because half the school buys your shit because they happen to be even more delusional and vapid than you. All you have in life is high school popularity, Hailey. You’re, what, four months away from graduating? The real world isn’t going to bend over and kiss your ass and tell you your shit’s chocolate just because your parents thought throwing money at wet nurses and hot wives were substitutes for love and affection. But I guess that’s what your bitch is for. Your skin is thinner than a postmenopausal vagina.”

If there was one takeaway from all of this, it was that brunch continued to be a colossal waste of time for everyone involved.

“I think you’ll find that I am untouchable. And, I’m sorry, did you insult my parents? My parents spent more time with me growing up than yours did. In fact, I spend time with them every day, what about you? Do you even have a father? I’d bet not.” Hailey was finding herself more and more angry with this person. Roz continued to push buttons that dug underneath Hailey’s skin, and seemed to be finding more and more ways to dig herself a grave. Some people used a shovel to dig their own grave. Roz, it seemed, was intent on using a jackhammer. “I want whatever drugs you were on when you walked into this place, twitching like you’re meth’d out of your mind. The way you’ve managed to make yourself believe that I’ve been coddled, that my skin is thin, or that I’ll have any trouble with the real world is impressive, and I’m sure I’d experience a beautiful trip if I got even a taste of what you’re clearly OD’ing on. You have no place here. One of us will leave high school and coast into a powerful position in the most powerful company in the world, with a beautiful woman on her arm. The other? She’ll be lucky to find work on a street corner. ‘Bad bitch?’ Miss me with that straight outta Compton bullshit.”

“You’re used to hiding behind a mask of anonymity. We’ll see how comfortable you are without it.” Hailey shook her head, “All I have in life is high school popularity? Are you serious? I have a family that loves me, I have a girlfriend that loves me. I hardly need anything else, but if you wanna play this game, then fine. You soaked yourself in gasoline, and then lit a match. Congratulations.”

”Someone’s gettin’ all riled. How’s that thick skin workin’ out for ya, Miss Defensive?” Roz had learned the subtle art of keeping one’s cool in the lion’s den. They could smell everything, but few of them actually wanted to do anything other than roar or fuck. In this case Roz was banking on the former. The latter? Well, threesomes were never quite her bag. ”There’s a difference between you and me, Hails. You think you’ve got me figured out whereas I know I’ve got you on lock. You look at me, you see ‘deadbeat dad’ or ‘alcoholic parents’ or something equally as white trash Americana because it’s easy to write someone like me off with a glance. I don’t matter to you because I’d sooner drink a cheap beer from a can than some thousand dollar wine from 18-who-the-fuck-cares. Truth is, you need people like me. We work in your companies while you get fat and bitter and miserable and wonder why at age twenty five you look like forty eight and wonder why your lover can’t get it up anymore. Metaphorically of course.”

Roz was tossing her napkin balls down the table, and mid-rant one of them landed with a little splash in Hana’s teacup, which brought a smirk to her face.

”You play some weak ass rap music tailor made for basic bitch white girls and act like you’re thugging. You empty out a restaurant in some sort of power play because you think it gives you the advantage, like it gives you power over me. You don’t have friends, you have people who you conned into jumping when you say so, and if you were half as thick skinned as you think you are, you wouldn’t try to dress me down with baseless insults like I’m the hired help at your family’s shitty pizza place. I know you, Hailey. You don’t know me. And you never will. The one meaningful contribution you’ll have on society is the donation I’m making in your name with the money you sent to me. Congratulations, you might get a school wing named after you or something. You’re welcome.”

It was then that the hot air in Hailey seemed to physically deflate. She realized then that Roz was not only stupid, she was stubborn. Hailey didn’t have time to tame a bull, and she had no interest in it. What was Roz going to do to her? She had said it herself: Hailey had only a few months left before graduation, and then whatever happened at the school would fall off of her back, and into the garbage. Still, the question remained.

Was this girl… for real? Did she honestly believe the words falling out of her mouth? Had someone truly deluded themselves so much as to believe the things that Roz was saying? To honestly believe that her family was anything but good was fundamentally incorrect.

To think that RTJ was basic? Even worse. They weren’t as underground as, say, Lo Key, but they certainly weren’t Eminem, or Post Malone.

“You think you know me? You think… I need people like you? You think I’ve never made a donation? You are grossly misinformed. Myself and my family donates more than I gave you every day. You don’t know anything about me. I cleared everyone out of here because I wasn’t interested in arguing in front of the normal patrons, and I had a feeling. Trust me, I know you. I know everything about you. You’re simple, from the ground up; people like you are a dime a dozen. Maybe I’m off point on a few things, but the basic idea is there. The fact of the matter, the simple truth of things is this: nothing you do will ever affect me. Everything I do will affect you. You’re judging my music taste off of one song, seriously? ‘Thugging?’ That isn’t even a word. You insult my father’s pride and joy? Even if I wanted to employ you, I’d only do it now to fire you. Listen to me, I’m 18 years old and I’ve done more for the world around me than you’ve done for anyone, including yourself. ”

“You’re a shoddy journalist, a terrible one even. You had a chance to get answers from me, and instead you pissed it away on more crackpot clickbait bullshit. Your peers in the craft would be disappointed, if not disgusted.” Hailey looked down at her tea and shook her head, before she smiled warmly at Roz, and settled back down in her chair. “I hope you find a way to snap back to reality, because you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that this is how you treat people.” Hailey glanced over her shoulder at Butler with an incredulous look on her face, and the man just shrugged his shoulders in response, before gesturing at Roz to take her leave.

“You can leave now; I’m not going to waste anymore of my precious time on someone who finds herself hellbent on trying to make me think she’s important, or that she knows me. You know nothing, you never will. I wish you well, in all your future endeavours.” Paying no more mind to Roz, Hailey turned her head to Hana, “I’m very sorry you had to see that, Hana. I don’t normally get like that, but she admittedly pushed a few buttons. I don’t handle disrespect very well; especially not when it’s directed at my father, or either of my mothers. Or, as it happens, you. I recomposed myself when I realized how truly gaslighted that poor girl is. I’ve learned not to box brick walls.” Hailey accented herself with a kiss upon Hana’s nose.

There was a rather old television show that Roz often left on in the background when she was attending to more important matters and the main character had a certain...knack for getting the last word in. While she would’ve preferred doing so with someone less up their own ass, she wasn’t about to let the opportunity go to waste. ”There’s one more thing before I go.” Nailed it, she did, the cadence was the most important part. ”If you know me, then what’s my name?” While she knew Hailey’s response was going to be something close to a throat clear or a hand wave, Roz knew for a fact that it was one question Hailey couldn’t answer even if she had the school give up the student registrar.

On her exit, Roz considered dropping a vase on the floor, and managed it simply by accidentally walking into one of the columns holding it up in the lobby. ”Put it on my tab.” Roz Norcross would likely not be welcome back in The Blue Lantern any time soon. Or Captain Cuddles, for that matter, but their pizza was like cardboard anyway.

Inside, Hana Park had a bit of difficulty focusing. She had stopped squirming in her chair but her face was redder than a ripe strawberry. ”I think I need a new chair.” Further elaboration was not given, though Hana was certain Hailey knew just why.

Hailey didn’t acknowledge Roz any further as she left the building. She didn’t offer a response to the other woman’s question, and she didn’t flinch as vase as knocked down. What did she care? It was a business expense and would be written off as such. Hailey eyed Hana as she spoke and gave a giggle. Before she could flirt, though, Butler spoke up. “Do you want me to find out her name?”

“Of course not. She’s uninteresting and frustrating. I don’t have time for people like that anymore. I’m going to pass her off to someone else. My methods appear to be a little… much for her, but perhaps someone else will have more success. She is of no concern to us, and she never will be. Is the camera footage on my phone?” Hailey glanced at Butler, who nodded, and Hailey shrugged her shoulders. Her job here was done; she knew who the Weekend Warrior, and had undeniable proof of it. “Hana, you know you’re going to have to clean that chair.”

“Do we have time for this? Don’t we have another stop to make?”

“My vanilla bean is clearly two seconds away from mindless horniness. We’re going to make time.”

Cleaning the chair? She hadn’t even considered that, but technically it was a bit of property damage. Not on the same level as a vase but still. And yet Hana had many questions in her mind. What did that girl even mean by ‘bitch in training’? How did she know her former alias and moreover did everyone know and also think it was a bad name? Why didn’t anyone tell her if so? But the only question that made it from head to mouth was a simple one aimed at Hailey.

”I won’t be using water and a cloth will I?”

As Marshall walked through his front door and let it close behind him, Katie unraveled herself from Noah’s unconscious form, and clambered up into the front seat. She looked over at her brother, who was staring glassy eyed at Marshall’s house, as if he was still hypnotized by Marshall Radley’s ass. Typical. “So I take it that tonight went well?” she asked, smirking over at her lovestruck brother. Jamie looked over at her and rolled his eyes. “It was… good,” he said, a smug smile creeping up his face as he recalled the night’s events. Katie gagged. “Never make that face again! It was so gross! Ugh, I get it you got laid, Jesus Christ!” Katie shouted, earning a shrug from Jamie.

Jamie laughed, and soon the two fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the late night radio, and letting the lights of the Hills pass by Jamie’s car, which was currently steering itself. “So, what happened with Noah?” Jamie asked, finally breaking the long silence. Katie turned around to look at her friend, who had passed out, his head lolled back and his mouth wide open as he took in breath after heavy breath. She’d found him curled up on a bed, fresh out of the shower, with JD watching over him. There had been some notable tension, but Noah wasn’t really in the state of mind to talk about it.

“Cassie Clark happened to Noah,” Katie said, annoyed. “She got him trashed on a bottle of vodka she stole from the bar,” she explained.

Jamie nodded, before continuing with his interrogation. “Should I even ask about the new clothes, or no?”

Katie looked over at Jamie, and shook her head. That was an off limits topic. For once, she was done talking about Scott Lyon, and anything he did. For a few hours at least.

As Jamie’s car pulled itself through the Callaghan’s gate and into the driveway, Jamie turned to Katie and put a finger to his lips. The last thing they needed was their mom to find them bringing Noah inside, completely trashed. Katie had already let their mom know that Noah would be spending the night, lying and saying that study group had run late, and that Mrs. Nichols had an emergency meeting out of town, a fairly regular occurence. The two Callaghans got out of the car, slowly closing their doors, with as much stealth as they could muster, before Jamie went into the back, and got Noah out of the car, letting the younger boy lean into him as they headed inside.

The three teens stepped through the front door of the Callaghan home, only to find the two people they had most wanted to avoid. Henry and Alison Callaghan, awake, and angry. Jamie winced, and shook his head. This blew. Katie stammered, taken aback by the sudden sight of her parents, clad in their pajamas and slippers. Noah groaned.

“So, I take it study group was fun Katie? Jamie, how was Selena’s?” their dad asked, his arms crossed and his voice stern. Katie chewed her lip for a moment, looking down at the floor, her stomach doing a full Olympic gymnastics routine. Rather than say anything, she chose to stay silent. Jamie, less of a stranger to his parents’ wrath, spoke up. “You guys are up late,” Jamie said, trying on a smile, only to be greeted by the harsh expressions on the faces of his mom and dad.

“A party? On a Tuesday night? Really?” Alison said, her voice shaky, as if she was trying to restrain her rage. “I called Madison, because, you know I just had a hunch, and she’s tucked away in bed. No emergency meeting. So then I called Joy’s parents. Joy’s out with her boyfriend tonight. It didn’t take long to figure out that the Helmsleys were throwing a party.”

“You know what I always say? Right? Why I don’t like the Helmsleys, or the Greens, or even the Sterlings? It’s cause of this kind of shit! Throwing parties on yachts in the middle of the week! Just because we have all this,” Henry hissed, gesturing to the lavish furniture and artwork that decorated the Callaghan’s home, “doesn’t mean we’re gonna act like rules don’t apply to us. Neither of you are better than anyone else because your mother and I do well for ourselves. Neither of you are allowed to go out drinking and partying, just because we have money! I get it, you’re kids, and kids party, trust me, I know! But c’mon? Lying to us? Going out, on a Tuesday night? I didn’t raise those kids.”

Jamie and Katie had both taken a special interest in their shoes during their dad’s tirade, and once he was done, they mumbled out their apologies, swallowing nervously as they hung in the air. Finally, their mother stepped forward, shaking her head. “We can talk tomorrow, after everyone’s had some rest. Get Noah to sleep, and make sure he has some water,” she said, before walking up stairs and back to bed, followed by their dad. Once they were gone, the two siblings shared a grimace, wrinkling their noses at how poorly that went. Silently, they climbed the stairs, Katie heading into her room, while Jamie brought Noah into his.

Inside his room, Jamie laid Noah down on the floor, slipping a pillow under his head, and tossing a blanket over him as well. He retrieved a bowl from downstairs, as well as a glass of water, and left them both by his head, in case any trouble arose in the night. With Noah squared away, the journalist slipped out of his jeans, and shirt, pulling a t-shirt over his head, and collapsed into his bed. He couldn’t help but smile, despite the show that had just gone down. It had been worth it. Jamie drifted off into a deep sleep, as Noah mumbled about green hair and liars, and Katie pondered about whether or not hot chocolate was an aphrodisiac.

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The morning came faster than Jamie would have liked, but as the sound of windchimes and birds burst from the speakers in his walls, Jamie got out of bed, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes. On the floor, Noah was slowly sitting up, his hair a mess, and his eyes underlined by dark circles. Jamie smirked at the younger boy. “Rough night?” he asked, to which Noah replied with a groan, his throat dry and his voice hoarse.

Jamie got the shower first, and after letting the hot water rinse away the initial resistance to the day, he got out, toweling himself off before wrapping the towel around his waist. In his room, Noah was sitting in the beanbag chair, waiting for his turn. Jamie walked into his closet, looking for an outfit, one that said “Yes, I did make out with a cute boy last night.”

“Jamie?” Noah said his friend’s name from just outside the closet, his slender frame peeking in. Jamie turned in response, awaiting a question. “Is Cassie Clark, like, a gossip?” the younger boy asked, concern written across his forehead in neon sharpie. Jamie bit his lip, before answering, “Noah, Cassie probably has no recollection of anything you said or did last night. Don’t worry,” Jamie said, before turning back to his clothes.

Noah, his fears somewhat put to rest, took his shower next, then came out to find that Jamie had left an outfit for him to wear out on the bed. While he changed, Jamie and Katie had found their mom downstairs, making breakfast for the twins. “Oh boys, say good morning to your brother and sister, who don’t know how to follow the rules,” she said, her voice unnervingly cheery. The twins made faces at their older siblings, taunting them, while Jamie and Katie winced, and waited for Noah to come down.

“Is Noah alright?” Alison asked, her voice tinged with genuine concern this time. She’d been a teenager too, she knew what it was like to wake up with a hangover. She had more sympathy than her husband, not that that made her any less pissed off.

Jamie nodded. “He’s in the shower, I gave him some of my clothes. I’m sure he feels like shit, but he’ll live,”

Alison looked at her two oldest kids and sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. “Oh come on! We didn’t even come home drunk! We’ve gotta get points for that,” Jamie argued, following his mother as she brought hash browns over to the twins, who shouted with excitement at the food.

“We’ll just ha-Jamie! Is that a hickey?!” Alison shouted, looking at her son in shock. Jamie, unaware of whatever his mom thought she saw, turned to Katie, who winced. Oh no. He ran to the downstairs bathroom, and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, right at the point where his neck turned into his collarbone, a dark purple mark rested, telling everyone the story of his night. Oh fuck me.

Soon enough, Jamie came back to the kitchen, his face contorted into an expression of embarrassment, and for once, speechlessness. “I can’t confirm, nor deny, whatever you may have seen,” Jamie said, after a moment of silence while he gathered his thoughts. His mom rolled her eyes and shook her head and mumbled, “As long as it’s not AJ.”

The Callaghans were saved from further discomfort by Noah, who bounded down the stairs, backpack slung over his shoulder and Jamie’s clothes covering his body. They were a smidge too big, but what was he gonna do. Alison smiled at Noah, and waved. “Hi Noah, pleasure as always,” she said cheerily, earning outraged looks from her two children.

“Oh, so he comes home drunk and it’s fine, but I get one hickey and it’s the end of the world!” Jamie said, the exasperation clear in his tone.

Alison tilted her head to the side, and stared Jamie down. “He is not my kid, Jamie Callaghan. _{Going out on a Tuesday night, getting hickeys everywhere.} You probably didn’t use a condom either! At this rate, I’ll just sign you both up for rehab now!” she said, switching from a mumble to a shout. God, Katie really did get it from somewhere.

“Mom, you’re being dramatic, and we’re gonna be late,” Jamie said, grabbing his backpack off one of the kitchen chairs, before heading out the door, Katie and Noah following close behind, Alison shouting her goodbyes after them.

Inside the car, Jamie groaned as he looked in the pulldown mirror, shaking his head. Katie silently pulled out foundation from her bag, and placed it in her brother’s lap. “Comeon Jay, dab some foundation on there and stop being a bitch baby,” she said, shaking her head.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Jamie said, as he opened the foundation and applied some over the hickey, doing his best to at least make it seem less noticeable.

“You could say that,” Katie replied, before the voice of Jamie’s Assistant, Victoire, filled the car.

“Jamie, you have a text from Marshall? Would you like me to read it out loud?” she asked.

“Go ahead Vic”

“Hey, can I get a ride, my car’s at school?” Wow, already giving him rides to school? Okay,” Vic said. Why the fuck did they ever think giving AI personalities was a good idea? Jamie shook his head, but couldn’t hide the smile that was creeping up his face. “Tell him that that can be arranged,” Jamie responded.

“Does this mean I have to sit in the back again?”