A huge sigh left Indy Adams’ lips as the trudge through the parking lot concluded. The small skirt was riding up a little higher than she was used to, and the wind off the Pacific was coming in just enough to make her worried about flashing the degens in the skate park. It was a small price to pay for her blushes being spared. The shorts that offended the sensibilities of the Queen Bee now rested in her backpack, only for a moment before they would be quickly dispatched to her locker for the crime of not matching the theme of the day.

After a briefing in Naomi’s sedan, the Hive eventually spread out to take care of their various dealings. Naomi and Lottie were in one homeroom, while the other three members shared the pleasure of having Miss Belmonte start their day with attendance. Levi had his own priorities and had left to take care of them. This left the two newest members of the Hive, and arguably the two with the least say on the proceedings of the clique, to walk towards Room 105 together.

It was a long trek for Indy. She was still thinking about what actually happened in the backseat of that Benz. She saw more of Evangely Vazquez’s leg than she ever dared to think she would today. Even the times when the Hive hit the pool, Angel was sporting a far more modest swimsuit that didn’t offer that much of a view. Indy’s coverup showed more skin, at least in her thoughts. That image was going to sustain the blonde for a while. The incident was far less explicit than the tales told by rappers of their various conquests in assorted Mercedes’ backseats, but it was still something that weighed on her mind.

“Thank you, again,” she finally offered to Angel as the two inched closer toward homeroom. “I should have just grabbed one of the skirts I had instead of trying to make the denim work. I’ll get this back to you at the end of the day.”

Evangely bit the inside of her cheek as they walked together, side by side. Their differences were laughable really. Indy could touch the top of a doorway frame and Angel could hide in a locker. Indy was fair and kind, Angel was dark and broody. Indy was approachable and optimistic, Angel was neither. Nothing about them was similar and yet out of the group, Indy was the one Angel felt the most herself around (well, if we’re not including her discord friends she games with). Indy was authentic, natural, and completely herself. Sure, Naomi, Levi and Lottie did their best to dress them but that never changed how Indy thought or behaved. That never changed who Nicola Adams was as a person, and that to Angel was admirable. The school hadn’t consumed her yet. She wasn’t an actor. She was simply a girl trying to survive her last year of high school.

Looking around them, Angel observed their surroundings, with no emotion written on her face. She locked eyes with a freshman girl, a brunette, whose hair was in a French braid. She watched them in awe. When she went to wave at them, her outfit screaming pink and Sanrio, her shy, mousey friend grabbed her hand and brought it down, avoiding eye contact with the two popular girls. She whispered something in her friend’s ear and the girls scurried off. Out of sight, out of mind. Being part of the Hive wasn’t a good thing. Those that admire you just did and said what they thought you wanted. In this incident, one freshman didn’t want to be in the Hive’s orbit and the other freshman didn’t know better. The reality of the situation was all the bees under Naomi Davis were feared because she was feared.

No one really knew any of them and prior to Angel joining the circle, people just thought she was a walking crucifix. People never wanted to know her. The only friends she had were those she met online. Then the day came when she caught Levi in a sweet, wholesome scenario. He got embarrassed when he got caught working at the local children’s home. He didn’t like that someone from his class was now working side-by-side with him as a youth mentor. It was weird that he didn’t want people to know he did charitable work and that he cared about children but she wasn’t going to make a fuss out of it. He wasn’t the only one with secrets. And she wasn’t going to lie and say she didn’t hate the fact that her club had more than just her and a couple of quiet kids.

With Levi, Indy, and Tate in Faith Forward, maybe she would gain enough traction to shift its purpose to something more meaningful to her. She didn’t give up on it because there were students that actually looked up to her and ate up every word she said. If she wanted to, she could have her own little cult of lonely, desperate and lost students who just wanted to sit in a circle and talk about their struggles, hoping Jesus could absolve their sins or at least make life easier. She didn’t hate the empowering part of religion but whether her club was aware of it or not Angel was providing them resources and tools of the secular and the sacred, giving them philosophy and food for thought, so they could come to their own decision of what they wanted to believe or not. She didn’t hate religion, it gave most people a reason to live. She hated how people used it as a weapon. Originally, creating Faith Forward was for her parents’ sake, to show she is actively making an impression on her school and spreading the word to her peers, but it's turned into a fellowship that meets weekly to provide comfort and guidance to those that need it. In a way, Angel designed the club to feel like an AA meeting but for teenage struggles and family trauma. No one would know that though unless they attended a meeting. Whatever is said in Faith Forward, stays in Faith Forward.

“No need to thank me, I was an asshole,” Angel brusquely spoke, turning her head to look up at the girl beside her, fixing her gaze with the blonde’s serene stare. Something about the way Indy looked at her, the soul and color residing in her eyes, reminded Angel of the radiating brown sun, circled by rings of gold, in a clear autumn sky. “I liked what you were wearing,” She admitted. “It looked good.” That same dark, mysterious gaze that pierced the veil with a simple look trailed down Indy’s lithe form and stopped at her skirt. “But yeah, my skirt does look good on you,” she complimented, her usual sarcastic, cold and monotone voice now had a hint of playfulness, even if it was not easy to discern. “You’re welcome.” A tiny smile appeared on her face before she turned her attention to their walk, covered her mouth and yawned.

Was that… was that joy? Happiness? Something indicating a positive emotion present on the face of her friend? It appeared for only a second but it could have lived in Indy’s head for 1,000 years. Those rare moments when a pleasant visage was allowed to emerge, something that no one really got to see. For some reason, Indy was able to.

Maybe that was what attracted Indy to Angel in the first place? It didn’t make a lot of sense. For someone who had just been tuned into this burgeoning side of her sexuality a couple of months earlier in Sydney, identifying the head of the religious group inside the school as her potential target of affection seemed like a surefire way to not only undo the work that Kai had done on Bondi Beach, but also quash any chance she had of exploring those feelings any further.

That glimpse into those eyes though, dark brown windows into a soul that was set on one solemn path but dared to toe the line towards the woods. A face that glowed with the warmth of the sand on a picture-perfect summer day. And that smile, that perfect little smile, caught only for that brief second. Managing to burn through whatever walls were put in front of it for a cameo appearance. It had to be swiftly contained, its power was too great. When it escaped though, it was amazing.

It’s why Indy put herself in such positions to try and coax that smile out as much as possible. She was never a religious person. Her travels around the world left her convinced that no one religion had all the answers to the mysteries of the universe, and those that claimed they did were lying to make a quick buck for some corrupt asshole at the front of it. She had some ideas, but no pure belief. Joining Angel’s Faith Forward group was a massive leap of faith in that regard, putting herself at the mercy of Catholic dogma just for a shot at potential mental debauchery. She joined shortly after she arrived at BHHS, but when she attended, it didn’t have the feel of one of those sidewalk sermons where some wannabe preacher tries to convince you his path was the way of righteousness. It was more like a chance to vent, to discuss problems other people were having. In a way, it did make Indy feel blessed that her major problem was that she didn’t really know anybody. Well, aside from the other problem of not knowing if she was going to explore her other dating options or not. Angel answered a lot of the questions regarding that without even saying a word.

Apparently, her performance in Faith Forward along with her status as a varsity athlete was enough to put her on the radar of Naomi Davis. She didn’t know if it was Levi or Angel herself that fed the word to the Queen Bee, but to be a part of Angel’s circle outside of school in addition to inside? It was an offer that the surfer girl couldn’t refuse. Even if it meant enduring the verbal lashings like the one she took in the car today. Even if it meant she was, dare she say, a feared presence in the student body. While she could see the stares gaze downward and hear the hushed whispers on the side, it didn’t matter to Indy. It was worth it to have Angel stand by her, much like she did today. A true moment of practicing what you preach, sharing your possessions for the betterment of your fellow humans.

Plus for all the warning signs that told her there was no way a pious child like Angel Vazquez could ever be convinced to give in to the temptation of the fairer sex, stripping down in the back seat the way she did told Indy that there were always openings into that reality.

The fact that Angel called herself an asshole was another. That was not the language you heard in the mosques of Istanbul, the shrines of Kobe, or the chapels of Clearwater. Certainly outside the chapels of Clearwater.

The blush on Indy’s face was starting to spread a little bit as Angel spoke. She had a blunt way of talking that led to a little bit of difficulty telling when she was being sarcastic or not. That admission had no scent of sarcasm in it though. It was truth. Angel felt bad, and she actually liked the outfit. Indy demurred a little bit and brushed the side of her bangs behind her ear, showing off the faux-ruby stud that sat in the lobe. “Thank you,” she finally answered. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned since I moved here, it’s that I need to work with what I got, and my legs are my best feature. At least, according to Levi and Naomi. And your skirt is definitely helping with that.”

She paused for a second before sighing. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do for Homecoming though. I know it’s a big deal, but… I’ve never been big on the whole… dressing up kind of thing. I’m not a gown girl. Shoot, I’d rather just show up like this. I know Naomi would crucify me if I did that though.” She thought for a second about that imagery. “I mean, not literally, of course! But… still. A new dress is definitely going to eat into that car fund.” What little free time Indy had she did make available as a tutor, for a price of course, and she was hoping to get a car at some point before the “winter” came, but she didn’t feel like she was getting any closer to her own set of capable wheels and the ability to sit in the front seat on the ride to school for a change. Passing the license test already ate into those funds. The university money was coming into the family now, and her parents were coy on the subject of giving her some money for a car, but Indy wanted to earn her ride on her own terms. It was a joke that her nickname was short for Independent, or that she could send volleyballs flying at you that looked as imposing as the boulder that chased down Dr. Jones, rather than the South African slant on her initials. She never really felt it though until Bondi Beach. She wanted to spread her wings and figure things out in California. Who better to help with that than an Angel?

“I just want to be able to go to the beach again under my own power, and a fancy dress does not survive contact with the sands and the surf very often.”

“Who said it has to be a dress?” Angel countered, already pulling out her phone from the front pouch of her backpack and entering The Mermaid’s Closet in her search engine. Strolling onward, she explained, “Tomorrow they want us to dress like we’re invited to the red carpet but there isn’t anywhere that says it has to be a dress, nor will these drunk, rich kids know if it is out of season unless you’re the Triple Crown girls and who cares what they think.” The pretentious, privileged and pompous princesses that thought they were better than everyone else because their parents’ had a black card might have the looks and the name brands on the outside but they were completely shallow and empty on the inside. “One thing I’ve learned quickly with the crew is you wear the outfit, not the other way around.”

Deciding homeroom wasn’t worth rushing to, Angel gestured for Indy to follow her to the side, so that she didn’t have to walk and look at her phone, risking crashing into someone. Once she led them to a wall, she leaned up against it, and followed the pathway to the ‘sales’ section. She filtered colors and articles of clothing until she found something she thought would look phenomenal on her friend. Blue was definitely her color. “The Mermaid’s Closet closes at nine so we have time, sorta.” She paused, grumbling at her curfew which her friends knew was 8PM. “If I’m totally honest with you I could care less about the game so let’s skip it and go shopping.” She paused again and looked around, making sure no one was in ear shot, “I know Naomi said we SHOULD attend the pep rally and game but let’s be real, if you show up in a Macy’s dress she might disown you. What you wear is far more important than us watching boys in their peak, thinking a game will define who they are.”

Was she wrong?

“As Nomes said in the car, this place has a homecoming sale. All we’ll need is our school ID. Now if we focus on what is already on sale, prior to the extra 20 percent discount we get for being students, you can get this,” Angel suggested, handing her phone over to her friend and showing her what she discovered, before continuing her pitch, “It’s off the rack. It has been sitting there for over a year and is definitely not in season, but.” She dragged the screen down to show the price, “It’s dirt cheap and you’ll spend 30 bucks on a suit top and matching bottom. The only risk we have is it might not be your size but we will never know until we check it out. Now if you have a bustier or a lace bra, rock some heels, and add some silver jewelry, you’ll blow everyone away.”

Angel eased her hand over Indy’s, to grab her phone, her thumb brushing her palm. Her big, brown eyes glanced up as she did so, making sure they found Indy’s pretty blues. She pulled away. “I have a better suggestion though, if you want to hear it.” Once again Indy got a side of Angel that not many people did. There were three instances where Angel felt safe enough to talk freely and that was with her, in her Faith Forward meetings, and when she gamed. Indy didn’t know the last one but maybe in time she would. She was Angel’s best friend, after all.

There were so many thoughts running through Indy’s mind at the moment, and none of them were the ones that she thought were going to be in there not minutes ago.

First, there was the sale. Angel was right that she didn’t exactly have to wear a dress if she didn’t want to. Indy could never be accused of being the girliest girl in the world, but not wearing a dress to a big school event didn’t feel like an option. It clearly was though if Angel was giving it to her. And it looked sharp. While it didn’t show off her legs, it definitely emphasized other parts of her body that didn’t get enough attention when she was picking her wardrobe out. It was a bold statement of intent, that she not only wasn’t going to conform to the ideals of the old Homecoming, she was going to flaunt her choices. Her friend already knew how to accentuate it with just a glance as well. Indy shouldn’t have been surprised given how quickly Angel was able to make the skirt swap this morning, but it was still impressive.

This led to the second thought, Angel was clearly not as invested in anything she said she was before they became friends. Indy knew this. She made a big show in front of Mrs. Vazquez while praying that she didn’t watch The Handmaid’s Tale, but the more that she got to know Angel, the more she felt like there was something there that she actually had a chance at finding. Everyone knew the studious Christian girl who helmed the faith group, went home by 8 pm, and was in league with the Hive. No one knew about this sudden rebel who was suggesting ditching school events and the game to go shopping for high fashion at low prices, who dismissed the privileged of Beverly Hills both on and off the field, and who spoke with such a passion for the plan she was formulating in her head.

Except Indy. Somehow Indy knew. She was trusted enough in the eyes of this vision from Heaven to see inside, past that mask. It wasn’t quite an open book, but the vagabond was a few chapters into this page-turner, and she wanted to keep pressing on. The two were able to smile and laugh in close quarters. Not in front of Naomi or Levi or Lottie, who would tell everyone. It was their own little pact. Indy got the insight that Angel didn’t give others, the joy that she couldn’t give others.

…And the touch. Thought number three.

Indy had not been physical with anyone since arriving back in California. It was hard after Kai had opened up that world to her, but she persevered because she didn’t want to put her position with Angel, Naomi and the others in jeopardy. But the touch of that thumb on her palm gave her the same euphoria as hitting the Daily Double. As it brushed along her skin, she thought for a second this was the clasp of the hands that signified something more, but as Angel’s phone returned to its owner, Indy did her best to hide what that thought did to her. She was already blushing a little, and hopefully, Angel would think it was merely a reaction to the pretty outfit. But their eyes met again, and Indy wasn’t so sure she could hide it.

“Oh yeah?” she finally eked out. “I mean, you have been pretty much en fuego with your suggestions today, Angel. What do you have for me?”

“You’re in the Hive now,” Angel asserted, returning her phone to its designated place within her backpack. The smaller of the two zipped up the front pocket of her bag, always one to be careful and protective over her belongings, and adjusted the strap on her right shoulder. Shifting to face her friend, full body turn, she fixedly looked up at the girl with sunlit waves for hair. “I think it’s time for you to do a power move and wow our friends. Don’t you think?”

That was rhetorical.

The Latina took a step closer, to get a better look at her friend and size her up, just how she did in the car. The smell of Angel — sandalwood shampoo, perfume that was like an evergreen walk in the woods, and cocoa butter — breached Indy’s bubble, ever-present in the air. It mixed with the ocean fragrance of wood sage and sea salt that belonged to the easy on the eye, tall and lean beauty. Earth and water. That’s what described these two girls in a nutshell.

“Don’t wear anything under the blazer,” Evangely stated with complete certainty. “I’m just saying,” she insisted. “You’ll look hot as fuck with a gender-fluid aesthetic and if you really want to earn Naomi and Levi’s respect, I think that’s what you should do.” Lottie didn’t count. Indy knew, she knew. There wasn’t a lot going on in her head and Angel meant that with the utmost kindness. Their friend, as sweet as dulce de leche as she was, was a girl who thinks her nipples getting hard means it’s going to rain. She was a hype girl but her opinions were that of the Hive.

Naomi and Levi were so far away from Indy’s mind at the moment. With that idea espoused by Angel, the chances of hiding the blush on the blonde’s cheeks went from 10% to 0.10%. Just like that.

That was the lingering thought with the suit idea that crossed the blonde’s mind. Was it too much of a statement of intent? The outfit on its own certainly would put the queer thoughts that were occupied within her mind firmly into everyone else’s brains. Indy already had her come to Jesus moment when it came to being, if not a lesbian, definitely bisexual. It felt like the arrow was firmly on lesbian. She had hidden so much of it for fear of losing her chances of keeping Angel in her life.

Now her crush was boldface telling her to go bra and blazer to Homecoming.

Was this really happening? Were her dreams more of a reality than she thought? The comment from earlier came back to Indy. Angel had no interest in staring at a bunch of sweaty boys running around a field hugging each other if the other option was getting her friend a proper outfit. Was there more to that, or was it just an indictment of the possible entertainment? Indy understood the lack of passion. From what she saw, Aussie Rules was a much more exciting game than American football. Maybe it was just another thing her and Angel had in common. More than she thought.

Everything about the moment was telling her this was right. The smells coming from their combined presence were hammering in the sight before her. This dynamo in front of her, looking up to her and telling Indy to be… maybe what she couldn’t? To live the life, strut the stuff that her home life wouldn’t allow her to? Was Indy still at her parents’ place, dreaming this was really happening? She almost wanted Angel to step on her foot to confirm it was real.

“You know… I have this really nice silver bikini that I got in Sydney. If I wear the top to that, you think that would work with the blazer? Keep the teachers off my back and still be fire? The middle string will disappear in the right light.” She was not hiding anything at the moment. The filter was down. If she had her way, she wouldn’t even wear the blazer for Angel, but decorum demanded some level of modesty. Even if she thought she was reading into everything those YA novels told her this could be, there was still something in her mind telling her not to fall fully into this daydream.

“You girls know homeroom is almost over, yeah?” Their intimate moment was interrupted by a sultry, stripper-like, British voice. Mrs. Sydney Royce, cheer captain and health education teacher, nearly as tiny as Angel, appeared between the girls. Not too close to make them uncomfortable, but close enough so they knew they weren’t alone in the hallway. Her blonde curls were vibrant and untamed, her petite body was adorned with a cute, red bow dress, and even when she tried to hold herself with some kind of authority, she was easy going, harmonious, and playfully upbeat; a bright smile beaming from her face. It was hard to see this woman as a leading figure at this school. If anything, most students saw her as one of them (to her frustration). “I’m not gonna’ write you a slip but you should definitely get goin’ before one of the big dogs comes and sees you. Oh and maybe, I overheard a little, Nicola, you should do that. It would be like really amazeballs and I bet that look would make it to the yearbook.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Royce, I agree. She’d look great and, yeah, sorry, we lost track of time.” Angel admitted and apologized, not really thinking it was worth lying to their health teacher who usually let most of her students get away with murder. “We were just leaving actually.”

“Oh sure, sure.” Sydney chuckled, already having her own ideas of their interaction. “Before you skedaddle, Evangely, dear, you should try a black dress. I don’t know why but when I look at you I see you really workin’ in black. Absolute killer vibes. But oopsie! I’m getting distracted, you two better head on off before I’ll have no choice but to give you a ticket to detention.” She paused and grimaced when she said those last words. “Ew, I hate saying that,” the youthful teacher admitted, before shooing them away, “Now get goin’ please.”

“No worries, Mrs. Royce. We’ll check in with Belmonte immediately,” Indy confirmed. She very nearly called her Sydney, given how much she looks like one of Lottie’s co-captains instead of her coach. She held off though. “And thank you. If you’re chaperoning, I’ll try and make sure I strike the right pose for the Pirates’ Log.” She winked and started hustling herself and Angel towards Room 105.

As they departed, she kept her voice down while whispering. “Sydney’s right, you know.” That time she couldn’t help it. “You absolutely rock black like nobody’s business. If you see something at the Closet that you want to get and you know your mom won’t approve of it, I can hold onto your outfit for you and bring it so you can change into it at the dance. It’s the least I can do for all your help.”

“Okay,” Angel agreed while walking beside her friend, finally reaching their homeroom. She wasn’t afraid of trying a new outfit. If she could, she would have a whole new wardrobe that suited her and wasn’t what her mom wanted her to wear. It was just more effort than not to hide what she likes from her parents, especially right from under their nose. “You should pick my outfit out. I’d like to see what you think looks good on me.”

If she was dressing Indy, might as well let Indy dress her. It was only fair. Plus she trusted Indy, more than she’d ever know, and earning Angel’s trust wasn’t an easy feat. For the most part, Angel hated people. Indy wasn’t one of them.

Indy still thought she was dreaming, but if she was, she didn’t care to wake up. This was a world she could live in until zombie Jesus came back to Earth. Nothing else mattered. “Bet.”

With KIIS-FM radio station playing ‘Shut Up And Dance’ by Walk the Moon through the garage’s sound system, Eiran Goldstein spent this early morning drinking his black coffee and straightening up his office. Call him old fashioned but he liked the radio. It was less work than spotify, apple music, the youtube, or whatever these kids use nowadays. For the most part, he didn’t mind the latest hits. It kept him informed, up-to-date, and hip. Without the radio or the news on the TV, or his son who read articles on the web, Eiran would be considered, especially during this day and age, an old dog. An old dog that just had a hard time learning new tricks. New tricks like learning how to use a smartphone that could break if you didn’t buy a hefty case with it.

He wasn’t that old. He was thirty seven but with his upbringing, the only thing he cared about learning was the ins and outs of the garage. Everyone else can deal with the new software for the computer when Dom upgrades things every couple of years. Everyone else can keep the books in check and make sure they got inventory when they need parts. Everyone else can understand the business side of things while he focuses on the grease.

Something about keeping up with the times... just didn’t mesh well with Eiran Goldstein. He was a good mechanic, one of the best, but learning new gadgets and gizmos hurt his goddamn brain. Thank Hashem his son, brothers, nephews, Chris and all their friends were smart enough to get a keurig machine to work. Shit was hard! He remembered the days when he’d be grateful to even have water to drink, now they’re here living like kings with fancy coffee makers. Stupid technology.

He was in a good mood though. There were no calls from school that his family needed bailing. There were no calls from the cops that his family needed bailing. There were no calls from the power duo that was his wife, Devorah, and his best friend’s fiancée, Junie, that he, himself, or Zo needed bailing from. He’d consider that a good day when none of his family needed a get out of jail free card. With the music at a reasonable level, where he could hear the bell if someone entered the garage lobby, Eiran put his coffee mug on the desk and started dusting. His mug had a picture of him, his wife, and his son on it and over their head there was text that read: World’s Best Dad. He did a subtle head bob as he walked around the office with a rag and wiped down the shelves, counters and furniture.

Lifting picture frames of his family, having a frame for all those he loved — his garage family, his immediate family, his nephews, his brothers, his best friends, and all the gearheads that made the garage their second home — Eiran smiled to himself. He was proud of how far they all came. To think he used to sleep at graveyards just to get away from his parents. That was until Hershey was born. Now he had a home, he had a son, and he was able to take care of all his family. With the help of his wife and best friends, of course. And Dominic Tyler. He couldn’t have done any of this without Dom providing a stable source of income and a small pad to crash at for a bit until his crew was able to settle and build a proper life with security, safety and soundness of mind.

After wiping down the last bit of side table, holding a picture of the Boaz brothers in one hand, Eiran heard loud music from outside, louder than HIS music, and an even louder, abrupt honk. Maybe he spoke too soon about the sound of mind thing. This was a place that somehow had the worst teen drama and angst and that was solely because the heart of the pack was a DRAMA QUEEN. AJ-Fucking-Tyler. Nothing like his father. More like his mother. “Mordechai better not be with him,” Eiran grumbled under his breath.

Leaving the rag behind, knowing Chris was occupied with a job, Eiran left his office just when the bell rang. Today was Chris’ shop day and fortunately for Chris he had a part time job here. Eiran had no qualms for the boy to get paid with money AND credits. Eiran liked doing business with WVC. It was a good place. Set kids like him and Chris on the right path. He didn’t attend. By the time he settled in LA he was too old, but if he had the option when he was younger, he would’ve. When he reached the lobby Eiran stopped in his tracks. Dom’s son’s eyes were bloodshot, his face was wet, and his hair was going every which way because of the wind. This was not Eiran’s wheelhouse at all.

“Where’s Chris?” AJ unhooked his glasses off his shirt and put them back on his face, thinking that would be enough to hide the stress and pain boiling inside of him.

“Usual spot… back there. Doin’ a brake job. Uh, you…” Eiran stopped himself. He knew how AJ would answer if he checked up on him. Instead he decided to just leave it to Chris to do the heavy lifting. He didn’t get paid enough to be on AJ babysitting duty. “CHRIS, AJ IS HERE FOR YOU!” Rubbing his neck, Eiran cleared his throat, “There’s donuts… in the break room. If you want some.”

“I’m good, thanks,” AJ responded, giving a weak smile and trying to pretend that he didn’t want to jump off the nearest cliff. His phone vibrated. He checked it and saw that Decky texted him. As he made his way to the garage, he texted back:

TO: fellow fuckhead
I fucked up.

The response came back immediately.

FROM: fellow fuckhead
First: U safe?

TO: fellow fuckhead
Yeah. With Chris.

FROM: fellow fuckhead
Good
Talk 2 Chris 4 now
There if u need me
talk l8r if not
Dont piss off my uncles

TO: fellow fuckhead
k… uh

AJ paused when he saw Chris’ feet from under a car. Should he? Or would that ruin Decky’s day? Biting his inner cheek, anxious, he decided to give into his impulse, knowing this could backfire and bring up a painful conversation later. He needed to, though. He was worried and Decky was one of his best friends.

TO: fellow fuckhead
if you see Jamie, can you make sure he is ok?
I’mma go now. ✌️

FROM: fellow fuckhead
Typing…
Typing…
Typing…

The length of the message that eventually came through on his phone did not match the wait it took to send it.

FROM: fellow fuckhead
He’s fine
was bein usual dick self in hr
We’ll talk l8r bout it

Despite hearing Eiran call out from the front that AJ was here for him, Chrysler kept working at his current task. His job and internship at the garage was something, and perhaps the only thing, that Chris took seriously. Besides Emmy, of course — the two aspects of his life that he really didn’t want to fuck up — his future, if he had any choice in the matter.

A few moments passed before he heard the sound of footsteps in the bay he was stationed in for the day. There was an even longer pause after the footsteps ceased, the only noise coming from the wrench Chris was ratcheting a bolt tightened with.

“You’re quiet…” he said without sliding out from under the car he was replacing the brake line on. A quiet AJ was never a good sign.

“Isn’it a Friday too? Don’t ya have school or some shit?” The same could be asked of Chris, but Fridays were his internship days at the shop, which he got school credit for and was actually required for seniors at WVC. The internship day, that is, not specifically one at a garage. The Westwood Vocational Center taught all manner of trades.

“Yeah, I guess so,” AJ whispered back, pocketing his phone and trying to gather his thoughts. The thoughts, his regret, the pain, and the fucking downright horror of what he did, replayed over and over and over in his mind. He looked at his hands, hands that were that of a man, hands that had power to heal and harm, and hands that hurt Jamie. Fidgety, he cracked his knuckles, debating if this was a mistake. Should he have just gone about his day? Should he have chased Jamie down? Should he have said he was sorry? Should he even be here? What was he even doing?

His father sometimes got angry, but he never hurt his mother, and if he did try to assert his dominance, she would slap him in the face or get violent. His mother was absolutely terrifying when she got angry. Why didn’t Jamie get violent? Why didn’t he fight back? Why didn’t he just… hate him? It would’ve been so much easier if he hated him but those eyes, that final gaze of pain in his eyes, fucking ruined AJ. He hated this. He hated this feeling so much. He went in thinking he was doing the right thing, breaking off their fuck buddy arrangement, but it only turned into him desperately wanting Jamie to admit that he loved him and he loved being loved by him. He just wanted Jamie and it was killing him. Killing him slowly.

He stopped in his tracks staring away from Chris, looking outside of the garage, at all the cars passing by. The more he pressed replay, the more he hated himself. The more he wanted to feel nothing. “I know what you’re going to say. ‘I told you so’. But yeah, you were fucking right. I shouldn’t have went back to him. I’m stupid for ever thinking Jamie actually was that into me.” What are you saying? You know he is into you. Just not enough to commit but certainly enough to feel absolute shock after you hurt him.

“Mm—” Chris grunted as he popped the line out and let the old brake fluid drain into the pan he had set out for that purpose. “Ain’t much for ‘I told ya so’s’. I know when I’m right, an’ whether or not ya come to see that’s true is on you, brother.”

Chris bent a knee and pushed himself out from under the bed of the car, aided by the creeper wheeler he was laying on. Sitting up and wiping the oil from his hands with a dirty shop rag, he looked up to his friend for the first time — noting the red cheeks and sunglasses indoors — and sighed. This was gonna be a doozy. “I guess I can donate ya’ my government mandated fifteen, Tyler. C’mon, I need a cig for this.”

The mechanic led AJ out back to his usual break spot, an old wooden bench just around the corner from the dumpsters with an upside down five gallon bucket that had an ashtray on top of it. Fishing the red and white pack of Marlboro’s and a black Bic lighter out of his pocket, he tapped a cigarette out and placed it between his lips before offering AJ one from the pack as well.

“So… what happened?” he asked, taking a large draw of breath as he lit the cigarette into a bright red cherry, drawing the spicy smoke deep down into the darkest depths of his lungs. Healthy? Of course not! Chris was here for a good time, not a long one.

Waving his hand, declining the offer of cigarettes, even if it was tempting, AJ took a seat next to his friend and clasped his hands together. His right foot restlessly bounced as he hunched over, thinking of how to put this. He knew nothing he would say would really get Chris upset at him. Disappointed, sure. But not outright upset because Chris knew AJ well enough to know that whatever was going on with him was something more than who he was as a person. “I, uh.”

AJ Tyler was struggling with finding the right words. His mind was fading in and out of clarity. He was hyper attentive to his surroundings, to his friend, to the aching feeling in his chest, but his mouth was dry, coming out empty. He was scared. The moment he said what he did would be the moment he admitted that he was a god awful person who had no handle over his emotions. That he allowed himself in a place where he was actively willing to harm Jamie because the idea of not having him was devastating and maybe if he had more control Jamie would want him again. Want him in a way that romantic lovers do, not just fuck buddies.

“I met with Jamie and I…” His leg bobbed profusely. “I let him go. But you know how… we get and I, um, I— The words stumbled out like tumbleweeds, following the direction of his heart but leaping and rolling slowly out of his mouth. This was harder than usual. “—I hurt him, Chris.” He profoundly stated, pausing afterwards to unclasp his hands just to roughly rub his face, from his lower mouth down to his chin. “I just got so into the moment that I hurt him.”

“Alright…” Chris said, sighing out a deep exhale of smoke. He squinted up at the sky, and passively scratched at his chin in deep thought. There were a lot of things to unpack in AJ’s words, but as a friend, there was far more to unpack in his actions. He was sweating, pale as fuck, twitching, losing his words and trains of thought. This was more than just emotions or anxiety, Chris knew his boy, and right now, he was tweaking out.

“We’ll get back to that, but first,” he flicked some ashes into the tray on top of the bucket. “Take your sunglasses off. Look me in the eye, right now.” There was a seriousness in his tone as sharp as barbed wire.

“What? Why?” AJ was quick to protest, even going out of his way to stand right up and put distance between him and his best friend. “I don’t see why my glasses have anything to do with me needing you.” There was a tense feeling in his chest and uneasiness coursing through his veins, like he was being cornered. “I’ve been crying, okay, and I don’t want you to see that shit.”

“It has everything to do with it, actually. For why you need me, specifically, and not one of your Hills’ chums.” Chrysler replied casually, remaining seated and calm throughout AJ’s reaction, to show he wasn’t a threat. Not yet, at least. Not until he knew exactly what he was dealing with. “Cuz ya been doin’ more than cryin’, and I don’t really give a shit about that. And you know that. So fine, stay hidin’ behind your shades, I’m still gonna have ya tell me what you’ve done. Because it sure as shit ain’t weed, and it better not involve a fuckin’ needle.”

Chris’ sharp words stung and like a defeated puppy, AJ took off his sunglasses and hooked them on his shirt. He didn’t look his friend in the eyes though. It was clear he wasn’t proud of his actions from this morning. There was a voice that was telling him that he didn’t need Chris. Who was he to tell him what to do? How would he understand how he felt, like really? Chris had Emeline, sure, but that was hardly the same. Or maybe it was. Who was AJ to judge someone else’s love story?

God, he couldn’t think straight and where there was that voice, there was another voice telling him to breathe, be still, and listen. You came here for a reason. Let it play out before you run away and make things worse. He wanted to listen to both but he could only pick one. For now, he’d pick the quieter one. It wasn’t fair to Chris for him to act like a child when AJ sought him out. He wanted Chris. No one else but him. There was value behind that.

“I just needed a little… courage. But maybe I did a little too much because I got pretty amped.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the remaining snow he had on his person. “Like father, like son, I guess,” he meekly mumbled. He still needed to tell Chris what he did but that part terrified him. What if Chris didn’t like him anymore? Why did he go to Chris specifically? If he went to Decky at least he’d be rewarded with a black eye. He didn’t know why his impulse led him here but it was too late to go back. He was already here so he just had to be patient, if that was even possible, and let things play out. If Chris hated him after this, then he deserved it.

Chris took another long drag from his cigarette. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a tidal wave of relief at seeing that it was just coke in the baggie AJ fished out of his jacket. A rich people drug… it was addictive, sure, but not nearly as dangerous as smack or some of the other opioids going around the streets these days. “Courage, huh? I told you that shit’s for parties, it ain't for when you’re already feelin’ low.” Chris leaned back into the bench, crossing an ankle over his knee while his thumb drummed out a beat on his thigh.

“Makes shit worse. Alright, so you showed up all coked up to see your ex. And you…. hurt him? How? Like ya’ll came to blows or…?” he somewhat nervously awaited the answer. Chris held no love in his heart for the sandy-haired twink that made a game of ruining his homie’s life, but he certainly didn’t wish him injury, or worse… “And sit back the fuck down, please. Ain’t no safer place to be than with me right now, and you know I hate having to look up to people.” Short king problems.

Okay, fuck.

He’d sit back down.

Now beside Chris once more, AJ rubbed his jeans, trying to once again, amp himself up to say what he did. This was a lot harder than it looked like and it seemed that the coke had backfired; hardcore. “I was trying to prove a point,” he started, carefully treading forward, hesitant to sink before he even got to the point. “That Jamie only wants to fuck me because of how I make him feel. If you took out the heart and the fact that I can’t get him out of my fucking head, he’d hate me in seconds. That…” his voice trailed off momentarily as he felt the friction of his pants.

In a way this feeling was keeping him rooted to the chair. Doing something to keep him preoccupied as he spoke his painful truth was a good thing and it felt nice. His pants felt nice. While it probably looked silly, or concerning, it allowed his friend to see someone incredibly weak and stupid. It allowed AJ to not wear a cool mask and reveal how much of a mess he was and it was all because he put himself in a place to be so incredibly codependent on a boy that didn’t give a damn about him. “...that wouldn’t be a bad thing. If Jamie hated me. Maybe it would make things easy, you know?”

Finally, AJ looked at his friend and admitted, “I slammed him against a wall and treated him like a piece of meat. I wasn’t going to go too far, I promise. I couldn’t, or at least I thought I couldn’t… do something like that. All I did was overpower him and mark his neck… which could be hot, in like any other circumstance. He wasn’t listening to me. He was running away, like he always does and I just fucking grabbed him. Oh god, what if I did more to him? What if I have it in me to rape someone Chris? This is so fucking scary. I’m such a fucking horrible person.” And the tears started rushing out and AJ buried his face in his hands. “Why am I like this? Why do I care so much? I just want this pain to stop, Chris. I hate him so much.”

“You don’t, man. You’re right, it’d be easier if you did, hell, I wish you did hate that little shit, but you still love ‘em.” Chris stabbed out the spent cig in the ashtray and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees now. Folding his fingers together, he made a point to only look forward as he spoke, giving his friend the privacy to grieve the loss of his beau, and the loss of a piece of himself along the way. Some actions can’t be taken back, and there’s consequences you have to live with. That’s life, and it’s messy as fuck.

“That’s why your arrangement was never really going to work out, and it sucks that this is how it ended up. But, what’s done is done. Ya ain’t a horrible person, you just weren’t fully yourself with that snow in your system, and Jamie — he pushes buttons. That’s what he does, kid fucking makes a hobby of airing peoples dirty laundry in a shitty school newspaper, but never once looks at the pile of shit in his own hamper.” Chris stopped himself before he got too heated. He really, really did not like that snake.

“I’ma keep it real, what ya did ain’t great,” It was, by technical definition, sexual assault. Chris scratched the back of his head and raked his fingers through his gelled hair a couple of times before lacing his hands back together. “The way I see it, ya got two options, an’ they both kinda suck, but ya gotta choose one. First, you reach out, probably text him, it’s easier to get your words right and not get…. distracted.” As AJ would no doubt be if it was an in person conversation. “And apologize. Be totally for real, say you weren’t sober and you acted out of pocket and that you feel horrible. Be completely honest. And then, no matter what he says or does, just let it all go. I’m so serious, just, never talk again. Move on and start healing, there are literally so many other people out there.”

As selfishly satisfying as it would be to only provide that one line of advice and have his friend follow it, Chris knew AJ too well to leave it at that. The kid felt too deeply. “The second option starts much like the first. Come clean, honest apology, let all them feelings out. And then, say exactly what you were trying to tell him before he tried to run and you… acted out. Put those words in writing. Lay it out blank. Kid’s a so-called writer, right? So let him read it, then. Tell him how you feel, how he makes you feel, and how you want to feel. And if you can’t come to a mutual agreement, then this plan ends a bit like the first. Let it go, no contact, move on, heal, fuck somebody else. Love somebody else. Ya got a big heart, man, I know you got it in you.”

Both options were hard options. Admitting your flaws and coming clean, when he deliberately filtered his drug use from his ex, wasn’t going to be easy. Getting Jamie to listen, actively, wasn’t going to be easy. Letting go, well, that sounded damn near impossible. He was right, though. Of course Chris was right. He always was. He had a clear conscience and was a perfect third party. Not caught in the drama and heat that was Beverly Hills High.

Both options sounded painful but which one was worse? Cutting him completely off and moving on, or saying his peace, seeing the results, and if it still bears no fruit, cutting him off and moving on? Was it worth the effort to keep trying? It was obvious that no matter what he did, he was beating a dead horse. Being in such close vicinity to Jamie was not doing him any good or anyone for that matter. He just needed to decide and commit. Leave it at that. It wasn’t like he was alone. Not really. He had Rye and while it wasn’t love, it made him less lonely. Rye kept him company and it was nice. Maybe Rye was the answer to AJ moving on and finding someone that was good for him.

“Yeah, okay. I can do that,” AJ replied, his voice a little shaky as he tried to convince himself that this would be okay. He had a good support system and that goes a long way with grief. “... like now?” Pulling out his phone, AJ stared at it, debating if he should sober up a little or should he just speak out everything he just did with Chris, now that he’d calmed down?

“Maybe get donuts in you first,” Eiran came out to join them, making his presence known. The moment was coming to an end and soon Chris would need to get back to work. They had more jobs coming their way and lord knows Eiran didn’t want to stay at the garage all day on a Friday.

The whole garage consisted of Jewish men which meant they might all have a nosy spirit in them, especially his younger brother, Hirsch. Tiny little shit was hiding somewhere. “Seriously, you two go get some before Zo eats it all. Fuckin’ guy eating his nerves away because Junie can pop like any day now.”

Chris startled slightly at the voice of one of his superiors at the shop. He checked his phone quickly to make sure he hadn’t gone over fifteen on his “break”, if you could call it that. Hearing out AJ was more work than any measure of manual labor sometimes. “You got it, boss” he said coolly, standing up from the bench at long last. He looked back to his friend and noticed the baggie of white powder was still sitting on the bucket near the ashtray. Before heading off to fetch a donut, he said one last piece. A friendly zinger to lighten the mood, a return to the normalcy of their somewhat unlikely kinship. “And take your shit with you, please. Some of us need to work for a living, I ain’t havin’ your ass get me fired.”

“And I don’t want to go back to rehab,” Eiran humored the two, hoping his stupidity at least helped with the mood a little. Where was his wife when he needed her? Devorah was far better at this mushy, emotional shit. He held the door open for the two to come in. “Now come on, let's be fat before we have to be responsible.”

As Chris got up, AJ looked at his phone. He could do this, after a donut. Grabbing his packet, he slipped it into his pocket and followed his best friend and his dad’s confidant into the garage.

AJ was quiet again. The only words he had left to say were for Jamie and that was all thanks to his buddy Chris. This was a good visit. He needed it.

Rye all but bowled JJ over with the speed that he flung himself out of the media center and into the hall, throwing himself on her with a dramatic sigh and giving himself three seconds of hiding his face in her shoulder before he had to face the world outside the set lights. He was always careful when doing this never to squish their bodies together, to keep his hug up around her shoulders, ever aware of his best friend’s rotation of rodents and their snuggle spots in her bag and hoodie pockets. His best friend basically carried around emotional support in the form of fuzzy little friends that were absolutely not actually allowed to be there, but Rye loved it.

He loved it even more when they got loose and caused chaos, but he’s been told he can be a bit of a dick with what he finds funny sometimes. To each their own.

Pulling away, Rye looked at JJ and tilted his head, questioning, “That’s a pretty serious thinking face you’ve got going on, Jay, am I in trouble for something? Also who do you got on you today, is it one of the ones that likes me and wants cuddles?”

Opening her tote, to showcase Biggie sweet chillen, JJ gave a nod to answer that question (Biggie loved cuddles with anyone that didn’t want to squish him) before she let out everything, speedily, that was on her mind. “Okay so I think Chai noticed me because I put on Addie’s lipstick, which is more progress I ever made with him even after you keep telling me to just be myself.” Rye and her sisters were the only ones that knew how bad JJ had it for the bad boy but she didn’t want to overstep or make Chai uncomfortable, so she tried her best to stay in her lane and be just friends. Her crush was getting harder and harder to bury and she knew if she didn’t do something now they’d waste their last year still being just friends. She didn’t want to be just friends anymore.

She wanted more.

To make Chai happy in ways that only lovers could but in her humble opinion Rye was always better in the department of sex and love, and knew Chai more than her. There was also Chai’s childhood best friend, and lover, Sunshine, to consider. Without a doubt, Sonny was a package deal if she wanted to embark on this journey. JJ had spent most of her highschool career thinking about her sexuality, her wants and needs, and while she was deeply out of her element in courting, she knew she’d be okay with sharing. Her heart had plenty of room to love more than just one person. She just hadn’t really tried anyone yet.

There were times she thought that maybe Rye was a better match for their mutual interest. That, however, rarely lasted long. She would never know unless she tried and she wasn’t one to harbor on comparing herself with her best friend. They had similar taste and that just goes to show that he understood her better than others. Well, except better than PJ. PJ was her twin. She had an advantage. Rye constantly encouraged her to try and assured her that what he had with Decky was not what she was seeking. JJ wanted commitment, which is why she couldn’t sleep around and explore, and Rye wanted companionship, to feel less lonely, and was in need of intimacy. He explained to her that he got that from a few people. Not just Decky.

“So I was thinking after the game — because we both know I need to do my drummer girl thing — we should go shopping so I can get him to really see me. But also! I don’t know if this is the time or place to talk about this but like, Jamie was not himself this morning. He was walking away from the murder shed and looking sad, so I kept him company and we’re actually going to the party together, weird right? But that’s beside the point. Whatever he has going on had to do with a really prominent hickey on his neck and I hope he is okay but like I want to know from you, what’s the beef between him and Chai? I was sitting in between them and it was… A LOT. I’m honestly glad Biggie slipped out and scared the shiitake mushrooms out of PJ. I really thought Chai was going to punch Jamie’s face in!” When she got everything out of her mind, she exhaled out, content that it was no longer trapped inside.

Rye had received Biggie from JJ while she spoke and the mouse had curled up under the collar of his flannel, something he’d taken from Sully’s closet on his last visit with the express interest of having them wear the same type of clothes on screen this morning, and the other boy hadn’t even noticed. Not that Rye was surprised, he’d pulled little tricks like this on the second host of the Morning Show ever since Freshman year and dude just breezed by completely unaware somehow even with more caffeine coursing through his system than Rye has anxiety, and that’s really saying something. Whatever, the fabric was comfy as hell and Rye had left behind his sherpa lined zip up hoodie of his that he knew Sully loved the softness of, so it wasn’t like he didn’t give a fair trade too. Sully probably just thought Rye left it on accident, but the smaller boy loved that hoodie and would never forget it somewhere, especially without asking after it for the whole week since. No, that hoodie was the streamer boy’s now just as much as his flannel was now Rye’s, it was just how friendships and companionship with him worked.

In order to process all of his friend’s words, Rye closed his eyes before slowly reaching up to press his earbuds in further and take a deep, grounding breath as his brain finished processing the wonder of Chai noticed me, shopping after school and moved along to the anxiety inducing Jamie, murder shed, going to the party together, Jamie and Decky tension. He dropped his fingers from the earphones and made sure to give Biggie an adoring scritch on his little head before letting his hands fall slack at his sides. Dammit. First Sully before the day even started and now JJ is dancing on the edge of it all too, getting a peek over the fence into a situation that by all means they shouldn’t have to worry about. He blew out a harsh breath and began tapping his thighs rapidly before making the executive decision that this was not the place to be having this conversation. Rye had nothing against Jamie, honestly- didn't even really interact with him outside the media center- and there was no reason to be spilling everyone’s secrets in the open halls.

“Okay. Okay, yeah, that lipstick does look fucking great on you by the way I’m glad it pulled Deck’s head outta his ass, and you calling him Chai is honestly so adorable I can’t even. Now come on, not here for the rest,” Rye grabbed JJ’s hand and began to drag her towards the best place he could think of. The library this early in the morning was almost strictly filled with student tutors and their charges, and avid readers who get lost in their books, which meant if you kept your noise level respectful, no one paid you any damn mind nor did they care for any gossip that did manage to filter past the printed pages of their textbook and novel induced hazes. They soon reached the library doors and Rye had to jump back last minute to avoid getting smacked in the face as one of them swung open and slammed into the wall. “Christ!”

“Watch it Twinkie,” The boy that had flung the door open sneered as he hefted his backpack higher on his shoulder. “Why are you everywhere?” Rye’s surprised look dropped when he saw who it was and he immediately rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and cocking his hip out to complete the judgmental stance.

“You didn’t mind this twinkie when you were desperate to be the filling, Ronnell,” He responded as the door swung closed, making the other boy grimace. As one of the Junior Firefighters and Junior EMTs, Ronnell and Rye had joint training quite often, and over the summer it had culminated into a night of disappointment and embarrassment. Ronnell didn’t take Rye’s attempted assurances well, in fact he’d turned on the other boy completely and treated him like shit since, so Rye just gave back as good as he got. “Maybe you can’t stop thinking of me so you keep manifesting me in your vicinity. Am I on your mind that much? Miss what you barely had a chance to have?”

“Fuck off, Shomer,” The larger boy spat, hands fisted at his sides. “Never even wanted to be with you in the first place, never want to again,” He shoved Rye back by the shoulder and stalked away at breakneck speeds, but not fast enough to avoid Rye’s parting shot.

“Whaaaaat? Really?” Rye called, waving with one hand and boosting his own voice with his other hand cupped on the side of his mouth. “But Ronnie, we made such a great pair for the three seconds you lasted!”

“SIR, TWINKIES ARE GOOD!” JJ called out before immediately getting a quiet shush by a male student poking his head out from the library entrance before closing it to go back to his book.

“You tell ‘im, Jay,” The malicious smile dropped off of his face the second the other boy was out of view and a scowl to rival Decky’s took over. “What a fucking prick, I didn’t even care but then he had to go make it a thing,” He grabbed the door handle to the library and threw it open, intending to go through and hold it open for JJ to pass the threshold as well. “I was more than happy with the fact that he could lift me up against a wall and keep me there I didn’t care abou-”

Rye ran face first into the chest of someone on the other side of the threshold.

“Was that prick the reason why you—” Niles breathed, glancing down at the boy that ran into him and back up at the girl that was staring wide eyed at him, like she had seen a ghost. He continued, “—were screaming? Mrs. Mads sent me out to check on it. You’re loud.”

Jordyn didn’t know how to react. While her best friend had many people that wanted to sleep with him, the one he wanted to sleep with badly, was the boy he just ran face first into. Niles didn’t back away and he even had his hand on Rye’s lower back, making sure he didn’t fall. JJ couldn’t help but blush for her friend. What a predicament to be in! How was he going to get out of this one? “I am… going over there. Catch you soon RyeRye.” Instead of saving her friend she decided to give him privacy so he can say whatever naughty things that were on his mind. Wait, no JJ. This wasn’t the time or place for that. Even so, she was going to give Rye space. He could use it so he could take in all that was Niles Sinclair.

“Are you okay?” Niles asked his dainty classmate as the curly haired black girl pranced away.

Rye had shot JJ’s retreating form a very clear don’t leave me look of panic, but his best friend, the traitor, never even turned around. Biggie’s whiskers were twitching against his neck and Rye was trying desperately to focus on that odd feeling instead of the warmth blooming from Niles’ contact point on his lower back. Instead of the mortification at the realization that Niles just heard him say he liked to be held up against walls. He would be getting back at her for this later.

“Loud? Sorry, yeah. I, uhm,” Rye wasn’t blushing. Someone doing something as little as touching him never made him blush. Yet he could feel heat creeping into his cheeks, especially when he realized he had put his hands up between them to catch himself at the same time Niles had steadied him with his hand on his back, and they were resting far too comfortably against the taller boy’s chest. He dropped his hands in embarrassment. Why was it so hot in here all the sudden? “I- yeah, I’m fine, you’re pretty comfy to run into.”

For once in your life, shut the fuck up, Gavriel. Please

The nonchalant gaze of the other boy watched Rye carefully. He couldn’t help but give a small smile as he shared an intent stare with his acquaintance. This wasn’t something Niles expected to happen to him this early in the morning but here he was, holding his cousin’s lover. “And you’re nice to hold,” Niles teased back, playing along with Rye. This was all good fun and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find Rye’s expression cute. “You know,” Niles continued, sliding his hand off and putting it to his side. He took a step back to let his shorter classmate breathe. “There’s a mouse in your shirt.” At this point, Biggie found its way in Rye’s flannel and started crawling down until he dropped on the floor. “And now on the floor.”

Biggie ran off.

“That’s- honestly sorry that’s JJ’s problem,” Rye answered, watching disconnectedly as the mouse ran in the same direction his mother had disappeared. It barely even registered to him nowadays that rodents chilling on someone’s person may be considered weird. He honestly just couldn’t believe the little shit had also abandoned him to this trainwreck of an interaction. On his part, at least, because Niles’ initial comment had done a wonderful job of turning any remaining areas of his face bright red. There were so many responses he wanted to give. Then don’t let me go, then hold me closer, tighter. Forget the mouse, I want you under my shirt. And so many more. However, all that came out was a stumbled, “Being held is nice.”

He was never going to recover from this. His voice had fucking cracked, wobbled like a tightrope walker over a dark precipice. He didn’t know why he was even entertaining himself, or why Niles was entertaining him at all. Rye and AJ were fucking, AJ and Niles were cousins, he had no doubt that Niles was aware of what was going on, but that smirk on the taller boy’s face was too playful to not be leaning into flirtation. Normally, Rye was the one wearing that smirk, luring someone in until they were hooked on him all the way through to the next morning when he slid out of bed and out of their minds. Except for those few that kept him around. Even when he’s been on this end of things with people like Decky, Helen, and AJ who were just as talented flirts as he was, no one had ever made him stumble over his words unless their lips were involved in the process. Well, Helen that first time in the media center but mostly because it had initially been her maliciously intimidating him and she had been both terrifying and incredibly attractive, which is a totally different situation.

“I’m sorry that was so stupid,” He mumbled into his chest, chin tucked in shame and unwilling to see the other boy’s face judging him for acting so ridiculous. Rye couldn’t be any more obvious with this crush, and as a serial flirt and bedhopper, he was honestly a bit disgusted with himself, unsure of just what made Niles Sinclair so different. So effective.

The other boy, a doctor’s son, just like Rye, redirected the conversation. It was as if he could read what was happening or he was good at picking up social cues. “The party, tomorrow.” He asserted, letting his voice carry in the space between them. He didn’t go over an octave. All Niles did was enunciate and fixed his brown eyes on Rye’s face, looking only at him. Hooking his thumbs in his jeans, he leaned his weight to his right and asked, “Are you going?”

“Yeah,” Rye answered in confusion, tilting his head. Of course he was going, Rye’s been to damn near every party he could logically get to ever since he moved here halfway through eighth grade. Parties were where he let loose, where he found people willing to have him, and where the way he tended to act was actually seen as somewhat acceptable. Unlike most people’s opinions on highschool parties, to Rye they were a sacred space where he did and felt his best. Occasionally, the vibes of the party would be enough for him and he’d go home alone, to the house that was always empty because of his mother’s crazy schedule, and he’d put his music on loud and open his latest book. Some nights, the parties were enough that he was actually okay with being alone with himself.

They were rare.

“Oh! Are you going?” He realized he’d barely responded to Niles’ question and the boy was still staring at him as Rye was chewing on his lip while lost in thought. He tried not to get his hopes up that this was actually leading to something, but he was hopeless in more ways than one.

In response Niles rolled his eyes and admitted (a bit unenthused at the fact), “Unfortunately.” Niles wasn’t like his cousin at all. Where AJ partied hard, Niles found peace at home or literally anywhere else. Where AJ got off with surrounding himself with others, Niles would much rather be alone. Where AJ screamed and roared, being the hype people didn’t ask for but clearly needed, Niles chose to keep quiet. Stay in his lane. Avoid the spotlight, at all cost, which was ironic when you considered who his best friends were. AJ and him? They chose to live different lifestyles and that was okay but this was the year he promised his friends he would try new things and stop being a judgy asshole.

This party was his first attempt to live a little.

Niles didn’t find the idea of parties, which was basically a place for teens to lack standards and self respect, as intriguing. Drink booze? Why was that worth his time? He could get whiskey out of his dad’s liquor cabinet. Smoke some weed or snort some coke? Nah, he’d leave that to his cousin. Fuck someone? Yeah, he’ll pass. They probably had an STD. Still, even with how grumpy Sinclair was, he seemed to ease at the thought of knowing Rye would be there. “My friends want me to go. I spent this past week listening to them both bitchin’ so yes, I’ll be there. I’m glad you’ll be there too. It’s good to know I’ll have someone worth talking to.”

“Oh, great!” Rye replied while perking up at the casual compliment, catching himself as he went to lean into Niles space and shrinking in on himself a bit instead. ’Control yourself,’ His father had always said, holding him out at arms length with strong fingers digging firmly into his shoulders whenever Rye would try and seek comfort with him the same way he did his ma. ’Not everyone wants some klutz falling into their space. Act like a man and stand firm.’ Rye didn’t know if Niles would be so forgiving if he fell into his chest twice today, and the conversation had at least been steered away from the earlier embarrassment he’d made of himself. Wringing his hands close to his chest, noticeably quieter, Rye smiled largely at Niles and offered without thinking, “Yeah, come and find me I’ll-”

Be with AJ, you dumbass. Rye’s smile froze as he remembered the situation once again. Niles was just looking for a friend, a life raft in the sea of chaos that was a Green party. Rye could be that, just that. It would be fine.

“I’ll probably be everywhere at least once, so I’ll keep an eye out for you too, yeah?”

“So you don’t want me to find you?” Niles raised his eyebrow, catching on Rye’s sentence shift.

Well that’s embarrassing. Called out so simply.

“I’m, I mean it’s just that…” Rye hated liars, so naturally he didn’t like to be one either. A bit of omission was fine. Like how AJ was omitting his rekindled situationship with Jamie, more likely out of sheer forgetfulness than any malicious intent. It’s not like Rye couldn’t just ask either, but really it didn’t matter to him. They were absolutely no strings attached and both of them were free to do whatever they wanted, and whoever they wanted, regardless of the nights they spent holding each other together when no one else was there to. Rye had already attempted his omission and Niles had caught him in the act, he wasn’t one to continue to bluster through something after that. “I’m gonna be with AJ most of the night, and at parties we’re both pretty loud and high energy which I know isn’t your thing…I can switch on and off no problem so I figured if I saw you it would be easier.”

“Message received,” Niles answered, giving a nod and checking his wrist watch. “Didn’t you come in with a friend? Don’t want to take too much of your time so I’ll catch you later.” The other boy gave a lazy salute before walking around Rye and leaving the library.

Was that okay? Rye wondered, suddenly very aware of the strong beating in his chest. That didn’t feel okay. Did I fuck it up? Did he leave because I upset him? Of course I did, of course I fucked up. His throat began to feel a bit restricted, every anxious, harsh swallow feeling like sandpaper rubbing together. Should he have lied? Niles left very abruptly, and Rye didn’t do well with those types of departures. His hands shook as he continued to wring them together like it would squeeze out the panic, distracting from the way his legs suddenly seemed numb, tingling so intensely with the sudden flooding chemical reaction that he swore he’d vibrate through the floor if he were a comic book character.

He needed his best friend, but he couldn’t move. His breath was coming in short and he could feel tears burning at his eyes as he stared mutely at the closed door. He knew he was an overthinker, but the way Niles had dropped any hint of flirtation in his posture and tone as soon as AJ’s name left Rye’s lips was a pretty clear indicator that it wasn’t just his skewed perception of things. People could probably see him right now, probably saw him just crash and burn in a spectacularly un-Rye-like manner. His tinnitus was ringing like crazy, weren’t his earbuds in? He could feel them resting in his ears, now almost painful while the skin there burned in mortification, but he couldn’t hear anything past the suddenly sharp, tinny tone that had taken over. He ripped them out frantically.

There was subtle movement behind him where someone put headphones on him and Placeholder by The Story So Far was playing. Gently, feminine hands, with sharp, long black nails placed themselves on Rye’s shoulders and eased his body to turn around. When Rye was facing her, Helen brought him close, holding him tightly, grounding him. “Breathe,” she whispered into his ear.

Rye let out a wordless sob as he felt Helen’s arms around him, keeping him from shaking out of his skin. He buried his face into her shoulder much in a similar manner to how he had with JJ earlier. He was trying to breathe, he really was, it was just that suddenly air really hurt and his throat didn’t want to open up to accept any. He tried to focus, eyes shut tight as he tried to narrow in on everything that made Helen, Helen.

Her pop-punk song was playing in his ears, her headphones much more efficient at blocking out the outside world and overpowering his internal noise than his little plastic earbuds ever could be. The melody was simple and with that key whine that helped make pop-punk what it is, making it identifiable and easier to regulate to. Her sharp nails ran soothing circles and lines along his back and head, helping uncoil tense muscle as she did so. She ran a little hotter than most people, throwing off heat like a radiator that always had Rye cuddling closer to her no matter how hot the actual temperature was, and she always smelled so enticingly of vanilla and amaretto, his nose unable to really separate the cherry and pistachio scents. Thinking of it had him taking an aborted breath, but it was better than the nothing he’d been able to pull in before. Eyes still screwed shut, Rye shook pathetically while enveloped in Helen’s protective hold.

“I-” His next attempt earned him a wheezed gasp of oxygen, and Helen’s scent flooded his system like a cleanser. His lip wobbled and he bit it harshly to force it to stop, drawing another harsh breath in past his gritted teeth. “^{I fucked up, Hellie.}”

Helen quieted him, stroking him methodically. “You don’t know that so don’t think that.” She felt his soft curls, twirling a few strands with her fingers, grasping him and steadily breathing. She allowed him to feel her chest move with each controlled inhale and exhale. Helen was calm and collected. Unbothered and unphased. She may be a mythic bitch but for Gavriel Shomer, she was tender, kind, and careful. She was observant and soft. Soft for her usual rep where aggression and anger defined her. Helen, at least for Rye, was vibrating with love. “The rat almost met the sneakers of Malcolm.” She snapped her gum, that hopefully hid, even if subtly, her smoker’s breath. “Don’t worry, it’s with your friend. The rat girl. Do you want to go to her?” She calmly offered, her hands continued to soothe and stroke. A constant motion. A repetitive action to show she was there and she cared. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Malcom’s a dick,” Rye mumbled into her collarbone, understanding just enough of her words through the music thanks to how aware he was of her voice and the vibrations he could feel from her throat as she spoke. He gripped her tighter. “Rat girl is named JJ. And yes please.”

“Okay, Sprinkles. I’ll take you to her.”

In the farthest corner of the library, where the beanie bags were, JJ laid out sprawled with Biggie splooting on her chest. She wasn’t a good friend for leaving Rye like that but what else did he want her to do? Stare and watch while he puts his foot in his mouth? If she was there, she was 99 percent sure Niles would’ve only stayed for seconds. If Rye seemed occupied, Niles would’ve let him be. It was something she noticed the timid, handsome boy did whenever they were in a shared space. As far as JJ could see, Niles Sinclair only had two friends and his cousin. Everyone else? He likely thought were okay but not once did he see him actively interact with anyone. That is until Rye decided to sit next to him.

If Niles was an introvert, and let's be real, he totally seemed it even if he was charming and good with words, then the more people that surrounded him the less open he’d be. Her taking a swift exit was for Rye’s benefit! It was a calculative move. She hoped he understood. If he didn’t, damn. What would she do to get him to forgive her? Buy him his favorite dessert at that fancy bakery? Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. Yeah, actually, that was kind of brilliant. She’d keep that in her back pocket just in case she needed to cover her tail.

When the person on JJ’s mind and his gothic supernatural entity appeared, coming from an aisle of many, many horror books, she sat up, making sure Biggie slid down her shirt and to her hands. Observing the two in front of her, she blinked twice and tilted her head; a frown immediately appeared on her face. She didn’t want to bring Rye into another panic attack so instead she made room on the beanie for him, holding Biggie with one hand, against her chest, and patting the beanie with her other, mouthing: “Come.”

At the sight of his best friend, Rye’s fragile dam broke once more, his puffy eyes again filled with tears and face screwed up in regret. Not letting go of his death grip on Helen’s hand, he stumbled forward and dropped harshly down onto the cushion, falling into JJ and curling up to her as the beanie shifted beneath their bodies. Slowly, his fingers detangled from Helen’s and his arm fell across JJ’s middle in a desperate squeeze, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still seeking contact from the goth too. Almost subconsciously, his leg extend out until his shoe was in touching Helen’s, making sure she was still there while he couldn’t see her or hear her from their new distance. Brokenly, his insecurity on full display, he whimpered the need Helen had already reassured him on into JJ’s soft curls.

“^{Please don’t leave me alone.}”

Fuck her. Helen wasn’t planning on staying in the library but here Rye needed her. She looked down at her dress, corset and all, and blew a little strand out of her face. “I’m going to this chair, right here. Literally next to you. I expect you both to pick me up once first period is over.” Shuffling to the beanie near the two others, Helen glanced behind her at the low chair and her dress. She dropped down and laid back, trying her best to not ruin her hair. She reached out her hand to grab Rye’s before closing her eyes and listening to the atmosphere. Helen truly did look like a beautiful corpse bride on a beanie bag.

”^Please…”

“I don’t think I can even if I wanted to,” JJ teasingly admitted. Rye completely took over her space, making sure she couldn’t get away. Biggie found his way nestled between both their necks, ready for a nap just like the dead woman. “Now. Do you want to talk about it or do you want to just lay here for a bit?”

“I don’t wanna cry again,” Rye answered, which was his tired way of saying ‘just lay here for a bit’. He squeezed Helen’s hand and focused on the steady rise and fall of Biggie’s bitty body against his pulsepoint. He could feel a bit of steady vibrations from where his feet rested on the thin carpet and he cracked exhausted eyes open to see Mrs. Mads casually wheeling an incredibly full book return cart in front of their little alcove, effectively giving them a privacy wall against the outside world. She pretended not to even notice them until she saw the boy’s eyes on her, and then she let a warm smile overtake her face and winked at him, holding her finger up to her lips before walking away as his eyes shut again.

Kids needed their rest, after all.

One thing that someone could never accuse the Osso household of being was quiet. Vincent and Capri knew that they wanted a big traditional Italian family. So when they moved from New Jersey to LA when Vince got a big promotion, they knew that was the time to get started in fulfilling their dreams.

Robert was first, every inch looking just like his father: same temperament too. Quiet, subdued but authoritative. He served in the marines and was now working in private security, Clarissa was their darling, bright and clever. She was essentially a mirror to their mother. She was a teacher. Sienna was the middle child, a creative and highly intelligent young woman working in law. The baby of the family was Richard, a sophomore at BHHS, he was treated as such by his family, much to his own chagrin. Amidst the sea of Osso’s there was one more sibling, Anthony or as he liked to be called, Oz. The Osso’s did not believe in the concept of a black sheep in the family but if ever there was one, it was Ozzy.

With a wild mane of frizzy chocolate brown hair, tattoos on his arms and chest and a wardrobe that would not look out of place in the 1980’s, Oz was entering into his senior year of high school no longer the devout Italian catholic choir boy he was raised to be. Vincent blamed himself for this. Antonio Tiziano Osso had two Godfathers, one was his fathers best friend of many years, Tiziano Belmonte and the other was Jon Bongiovi, yes that Bon Jovi, whom Vince was neighbors with back in Perth Amboy, New Jersey. It didn’t take a genius to work out who was the bigger influence on young Anthony.

The large house was always in great chaos, with kids running around, grandkids running around, different genres of music blaring from every bedroom. It was messy and it was hectic but it was also fun. Ozzy was usually the last of the family to wake up, normally because he’d been out partying the night before or his Dungeons and Dragons campaign ran into the wee hours. However this first week back at BHHS had been different to the norm, Oz was one of the first up and out of the door. What changed this year? Well he had something to wake up for.

Her name was Kim.

Ozzy’s vintage Harley Chopper purred through the gleaming and shining streets of Beverly Hills as he rode his way towards his First Lady of Rock. He had his Rich Warlock guitar slung around his back, the stereo cranked up to eleven and the wind throwing his hair back like a God. Kim and Oz were two people that you could never picture together but then when you see them, they make all the sense they can in a fucked up world. She, the theatre beauty, perceptive and wise beyond her years. Somewhat of a wallflower in comparison to some of her more dramatic compatriots. Ozzy, a throwback rabble rouser with an army of freaks and geeks who hung upon his every word like he was the messiah of the misfits.

They were not meant to be together.

Yet on that fateful summer night, Kimber found herself alone at the Drive In, at the exact same time that Oz was called to help fix a mechanical fault. There she was, by herself, watching a damn monster movie. Maybe it was the way the old projector lit up her smile or that cute red skirt she was wearing but Ozzy couldn’t help but invite himself into her parents’ car that she had taken for the evening and find himself falling in love instantly. He had been touched by some ancient runic magic or maybe he had just listened to too many power ballads that day but either way, the last ceased to exist when he looked at her face.

The bike began to slow as Oz pulled into Kim’s street. He slowly came to a stop outside her house and already her neighbours were poking their judgemental heads out of their curtains to see the reprobate in their way to pristine looking cul-de-sac. “I’ll show you, ya fucking shitsticks.” With a wry smile on his face and throwing up the devil horns in full view, Ozzy turned up his radio and began to belt out the lyrics of Meatloaf's Bat Out Of Hell. Opera Rock was rock too bitch.

“The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling
Way down in the valley tonight
There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye
And a blade shining oh so bright.”

Where there was chaos, there was order. Disorder had a secret order, purpose and meaning and at times, chaos was more organized than order. Order could be too restrictive, rigid, and rigorous, while chaos could be too complex, confusing, and challenging. Together though? They made sense. They needed one another and balanced each other out in the end. Order, no matter how Kimber Benson looked at it, was an absolute necessity. She needed a routine. She needed her checklists. She needed minimal blemishes and minimal wrinkles. She needed things to make sense.

Reason being? Kim was never one for change or disruption during her day. Everything she did had a distinct flow to it. Her mind was chaotic enough with ideas constantly hitting her at random times that she absolutely needed everything else to stay in their place. Growing up it was her and her mother versus the world. She was able to dream big, create worlds and play make believe in her favorite place in the world: home. Things were simple. Her mother would write and she would curiously ask her questions and listen to her stories. She’d also scribble her own stories which at first was illegible because she didn’t know how to write. As she grew older and became literate, what she wrote was clear as day. When her pen met paper the ideas flowed like a free and flowing stream. Sometimes the ideas rushed out and spun like a whirlpool. And other times? The ideas fell into a black hole never to return again. Her chaotic mind, dazed and confused, overstimulated at the most inopportune moments. Her chaotic mind existed because she couldn’t help but dream. Her chaotic mind needed order.

When her mom met her step dad, which included a step brother, her world came crashing and she found herself outside her house, more often than not, with her best friend, Katie, who was a constant in her life. Constants were good. Constants were great. Constants meant nothing’s changed. In time she was able to adjust and accept her new family but it still took time. The next challenging obstacle that forced her to adjust was when Katie met Scott. Imagine having a friend for so long and then a boy comes around and takes her away from you. That, of course, was only how she perceived it due to her inability to accept change right away. Thankfully she had Niles who became a constant gradually and steadily freshman year. His mom’s death was a hard thing to process but she allowed herself to show up and be his constant, because as fragile as she can be, he needed stability, repetition and uniformity more than her. She’d like to think her hate for change became more manageable after that tragedy. Change was inevitable and it was up to her to continue onward and adjust. She had no choice but to adjust.

Now Kim was dating a boy, who she got more acquainted with during the summer, that was mayhem and madness incarnate. She didn’t expect to have company while watching Godzilla. He saw her and asked if he could join. She was lost for words and before she knew it, he was in her car, giving her a goofy smile and they were sharing popcorn. This simple chance encounter led to them exchanging phone numbers, texting all summer, and going on more dates than she could count. This was different for her. It was clearly a change but she liked it and that was new.

While she was more willing and open minded, there were times where Kim knew she was going to malfunction from his unpredictability, from his randomness, and from his rowdy behavior, and during those instances, he somehow knew how to handle her with care. It was different. It wasn't a bad different. It was just different. With her brother off to college and her parents on their annual anniversary trip, Kim had the house to herself. She didn’t tell her boyfriend because there were many factors she needed to consider like what if he wanted to stay over the night? What if she was tossed around by fate and suddenly they both were in the same bed and things escalated? What if they had… sex? Yeah, no, she couldn’t have that happen. Not yet. She didn’t know if she was ready or not.

It wasn’t that she was defensive either. Kim was a cautious girl and it seemed that Anthony Osso gave her this unusual impulse where she wanted to throw all caution out the door. With him, she could never predict what happens next and Kim liked knowing what happens next. She liked having a hold on the chaos. She liked the peace in knowing what to expect and understanding what she was feeling before she felt any feeling. With Anthony Osso, she was completely and utterly out of her element and the only thing she could do was go with the flow, hoping she didn’t drown in the process.

In a red cardigan, black skirt, knee high nude nylons, and ankle boots, Kim inched the front door to her house open to see Oz waiting for her on his bike (god, she still wasn’t used to riding on a motorcycle to school). He was howling and roaring, causing a mild disruption in her quiet, little neighborhood. He was unabashedly himself and he was happy. Handsome. Taking a quick breath, the dainty writer nodded, building up the courage to approach him, like she did everyday since they started to officially date. Exiting her house, closing it behind her and making sure it was locked, Kim met his gaze and gave a little smile. After tightening her backpack straps and securing her bag, she strolled to the boy, her heart skipping a beat the closer she got. “Good morning, Meatball,” she coyly greeted and teased. “I hope the ride here wasn’t too rough.”

"My dearest lady, what is life without a few speed bumps?” Ozzy smiled that goofy smile of his as he responded to his girlfriend in a mock English accent, which admittedly was not terrible. He climbed off of his bike, took one hand to his chest and swept the other out as he bowed his wild head of hair to the throne of his beloved.

Anthony knew Kim to be sensitive but had never truly understood the ins and outs of it until they began talking over the summer. It was part of the reason he was taken aback when their relationship progressed to where it currently was as boyfriend/girlfriend. Ozzy was mad, bad, dangerous to know and had been accused of everything from vandalism (he did it), theft (only a candy bar or five) and starting a cult (it was just a dungeon campaign but the nerds would do anything he said). If Beauty and the Beast truly existed, they were standing outside of Kimber Benson’s, out blasting classic rock.

Oz placed his hands on his girlfriend's waist and leaned on to gently kiss her soft cheek. “You look really pretty today.” The reality was simple, Anthony had fallen hard and fallen fast for Kim. The last thing he ever wanted to do was pressure her or make her feel in any way uncomfortable around him. He knew that PDA was not her thing, especially since there were so many who didn’t even know they were together yet, including Kim’s best friend. For her, the metal man was as soft as butter. On their first “date” at the drive in, when he invited himself to watch Godzilla with her; she said she thought he might be mean and scary, that stung. Even with his brand of chaos, the one thing Oz prided himself on was being a good man, a nice guy. He was always a gentleman, always polite, he just had a habit of unleashing a rabid tribe of frustrated geeks and freaks onto the populace. But mean and scary? That was an eye opener for sure.

"You ready?”

For this matter specifically, riding a motorcycle, Kim was wearing shorts under her skirt. She also made sure it was slim and straight fit to prevent flapping. She didn’t own many black articles of clothing and she didn't necessarily like wearing jeans. She made it work even if it was a little embarrassing. Nodding at her boyfriend, she grabbed his helmet hanging off the handle (he only brought one for her, which wasn’t safe at all since he should be wearing one too!) and gradually put it on her head, hoping her hair didn’t get ruined that much. She waited for Oz to get on his bike mounting from the left side. Watching him quietly, he shifted the bike upright and kicked up the side stand. He proceeded to glance at her which was her signal to get on. With Oz balanced, she did just that, following the steps he had gone over with her when they first started going to school together. As both of her feet rested on the foot pegs, Kim’s petite arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly. She was secured and: “Ready,” she finally answered.

”Then let’s rock.” Ozzy revved the engine multiple times before throwing up the devil horns and letting loose a Gene Simmons-eaque tongue for the neighbors to grimace at. He kicked the pedal and the Harley roasted into monstrous life. Anthony pulled the bike around the smooth circle that was the cul-de-sac before opening up the gas to allow for them to shoot out towards the rest of their day.

It might seem to most that Oz rode like a madman and in some respects he did. However with Kim on the back, he was not no way no how risking her safety. He just wouldn’t do it. The steel horse which acted as the young couple's chariot was his most prized possession next to the vintage guitar and leather jacket that Kim got him. Oz took such care of the beautiful machine, treating it finer the more gentle than he would a child. And he would know because he used to throw his brother Ricky around like he was a potato. It was fine, he had that disease that made his bones all weird, he could take it.

After a relatively short ride; Oz stopped the bike outside of Plouf, this hot little cafe just shy of the school grounds. Kim worked there, along with a few of their friends and it had the best breakfast pastries. Kimmy always liked to be early, so the early dawn couple had time before they had to be at school. The metal Lord hopped off the bike and once he had dusted himself off, slowly removed Kim’s helmet as she remained seated and hung it on the handle bars. “Look at you, absolutely perfect.” He smiled at her as his large hands came up to pat down a tiny amount of stray hairs adorning her auburn hair. “”You want breakfast or a coffee? My treat.”

Actively skipping over the compliment, she looked up at him. “Breakfast. Bacon, egg and cheese on an everything bagel, with OJ, please and thank you.” Kim was quick to answer, having finally gotten into a place in their relationship where she was willing to let him treat her. A month ago she would’ve rushed to pay and tell him that he didn’t need to, she could take care of herself, but with time she was able to put her pride down and let him treat her. She would be lying if she said she didn’t like how it made her feel, being taken care of. “We can get my discount too.” she said matter of factly, happy about the perks that came with the job. Intently their gaze lingered on one another. She wanted to kiss him but didn’t have the courage to initiate. Instead she gave him her sweet, serene and shy simper and broke the tension by heading in first. “Your lady is waiting and hungry.”

In some ways, it was the innocence of Kimber that really drew Oz in. It was captivating to watch her discover and feel things for the first time, things that she had walled herself off from. There was a kind of magic in the beholding of a person truly experiencing something that they never had before. There were small moments, like the one they just had, where he would look at her lips and she would look at his and he could tell by the sparkle on the big brown eyes that she wanted to kiss him but didn’t bring herself to. Not because she didn’t want to but the moment, the need and yearning, she hadn’t had that before. Oz was her first boyfriend, the first real one and he didn’t want her to regret that. The future was the future and he didn’t know what it held or what experiences were to follow for them as individuals and as a couple but he wanted to wait and find out.

He followed her into Plouf and watched her hand over the sexy ass black card which got her a decent discount. Usually it was Kim on the other side of the counter, or Penny or that new girl whose name he hadn’t learned to pronounce yet. Of course she ordered her breakfast bagel and juice without even a second blink, Kimmy was a creature of habit after all. ”Fried egg sandy for me, grazie gentilmente.” Ozzy tapped his phone on the card reader after the cashier had rung up their order and then returned his attention to Kim. ”They’ll bring it out to us, come on. I want to sit outside.” He nodded to the server with a smile. ”Cheers kemosabe.”

Oz soon led Kim to a tiny garden to the side of Plouf, they were the only ones there and the sun was perfectly glowing around them as he took a seat but kept a hold of her hand. ”Come here, sit.”

As they sat down, Kim took a moment to breathe and relax, placing her backpack by her foot. Her shoulders eased, her lips parted, and her heart steadied. The sun was warm. It gleamed down on her face and made her comfy and cozy. It wasn’t blinding, not yet at least. It was too early for the sun to be at its peak. She took in the fresh air and smiled to herself. She loved mornings. The quiet, the nature, and the peace of it all. This would be her favorite part of the day when she could sit, whether alone or with Oz, and enjoy the calm. Mornings were lovely and it made her appreciate the little things. It made her happy.

Daydreaming was something that came often to Kim, so much so that she sometimes didn’t realize when she was in a trance, stuck in her world of imagination. It wasn’t until she brought her attention from a flower with a bee resting on it to the person sitting across from her that she noticed how careful Oz was watching her. How focused and unwavering. His mind didn’t wander when he was with her and that was different to say the least. To be all someone thought about in a moment, she couldn’t really fathom that he loved her like that. Why would he love her like that? She was average. Nothing special.

Warm blood was sent to her fair cheeks when their eyes met again and she suddenly felt hot, and not just because of the sun. She didn’t want to look like an unsophisticated fool unable to hold a conversation with a boy she cared about deeply. Kim struggled. When she was with Oz she was tongue tied and she couldn’t think straight. She didn’t want him to regret ever taking a chance with her but why was it so hard to act normal? Was this how they were going to be for the rest of the year or was this the feeling you experience during the beginning of all relationships where you learn to adjust and get used to affection from someone else? Kim didn’t know. She may never know. Why couldn’t she know? God, she was so out of her element.

Clearing her throat, Kim modestly began, “Katie is caught up with Jamie and AJ again… I’m hoping this weekend, maybe even at the game today I can tell her about you. It’s so easy to get Niles to listen. Katie. Well, obviously, not so much. But I really want her to know we’re dating. I’m sorry if I’ve been making you feel any type of way. It’s not that I don’t want to, I promise.” It was the mere fact she didn’t know when was a good time nor did she want her friend to think she was taking the spotlight from her. Katie was a busy girl, and with the student election approaching, that was keeping her occupied. Add her time with Scott and her brother’s drama, that left little room for Kim to bring up anything about herself. Lately, their relationship felt one sided but that could be Kim’s insecurities getting the best of her. Katie was her best friend, no doubt, and she knew if she just spoke up she’d listen. She just had to… speak up. “I really like you, Anthony.” She admitted, trying her best to not look away like the blushing bride that she was.

”And I really like you too, Kimber.” Oz teased. Kim was one of only a few he would allow to use his Christian name. Hell, she could even use Antonio and he wouldn’t hate it. Every word sung through her ruby painted lips were hymns and gospel to his ears. “Listen.” He used both of his hands to cover hers and held them together in unison, entwined like their lives had become. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this about me but…I’m a fucking weirdo.” Oz’s grin widened from ear to ear; despite his admittedly scary visage, his smile was always warm and welcoming. “Katie is your best friend and she will love whatever choices you make in your life. You can tell her about me tonight or you can tell her about me a year from now, honestly it doesn’t bother me because I either really like being your dirty little secret or I just like being with you..”

He picked Kim’s hands up to kiss her knuckles; the heat of the growing sun baring down like a comfort blanket. “I have never needed anyone’s approval in my life. Babe, my family wears suits at the dinner table. I ain’t conforming to that shit and I’m sure as shit not going to conform to the rules and regulations of a high school teen drama. OK?” Ozzy let out a short, stifled laugh. “I want you, like to infinitum but I also want you to be happy and comfortable and safe. So you gotta' do things in your own time.”

The server brought out their breakfasts and placed them in front of them. As she did, Oz let go of Kim’s hand for a second to rip the girl cash before she moved on. “One day; you are going to find something, that same something you use when your writing and your gonna bask in it and you’re gonna grow in it and this fucking world isn’t gonna know what hit them and I’ll be behind you every step of the way. Shredding my guitar and riding your coattails. Cos we fucking rock babe, you’re my lady and I’m your meatball.”

“You say that so assuredly,” Kim impulsively responded. The doubt setting in, after hearing all the sweetest little things that Oz believed and felt. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him. She had no reason not to. She wanted to fully give in and let all these positive emotions take hold of her, grabbing the wheel of her heart, while it drove them toward paradise. For some reason she was programmed to be hesitant, cautious and a little afraid. Not of him but of the idea that someone genuinely liked her for her and not just in a platonic sense but as lovers do. Still the doubt questioned what he saw in her. Why was he so committed? He made it sound like he was there to stay. What made him believe it would all work out in the end? What made him believe she was right for him? What made him believe there was no one else that would suit him better? There was nothing there. Just a girl and her pen, but beyond that? She was normal. A backdrop in someone else’s story.

Nursing her glass of OJ in her hand, Kim peered down, getting lost in the liquid. Clarifying her thoughts out loud, she anxiously asked, “What makes you so sure you’ll be with me every step of the way? Why would you even want to? I’m not like a star or anything. Aside from my writing, there really isn’t anything unique about me. Your weird life is yours and it’s so different from mine. I just… I feel like you’re going to get bored of me. I mean look at me.” Kim released the cup to clasp her hands together, looking at him thoughtfully even if her beautiful, hazel eyes were searching for answers. She was in her head and being a little self degrading, the fact that she hadn’t told her best friend yet about him was weighing heavily on her mind, but her focus, attention, and most importantly, heart was all on him. “I’m not pretty or interesting. I’m mediocre at best.”

“Mediocre? Ozzy shook his head in disbelief. “Mediocre,” He repeated, hanging his head and staring at the warm yolk leaking out of his breakfast sandwich, just like his Mama made them. “MEDIOCRE!” With pure recklessness Anthony flung himself backwards in his chair, sending his body flying away from the table where he would hit the ground. He rolled to his feet in a grandiose performative masterpiece, spreading his arms wide to soak in the adulation of his crowd of one.

“My dear lady, mediocrity is a social construct designed to keep the geniuses and artists of the world locked in their cages of self defamation and doubt. Mediocrity is a word, a racial slur used to stop the mad ones, the ones mad to live, to chase, to dream, to fucking rock and stop them from taking over.” Oz hurried around to the west facing part of the table, kneeling swiftly at Kim’s side. “Mediocrity, is a tool that they’re trying to use to stop you from being the you, inside your heart. The you I see. It’s all there babe, in your writing, in your words. The one thing you wield more powerfully that anyone else. Your skill with the quill is undeniable, like you and me.”

He could not hide the adoration in his eyes for her, he wouldn’t want to anyway. Oz was honest and unashamedly himself at all times. Mediocre was not in his vocabulary. “Yes I did just quote Hamilton, you’re rubbing off on me, Kim. And I wouldn’t want it or you any other way.”

If she wasn’t blushing now she certainly was after that showcase. She surrounded herself with actors and immersed herself in theater like her soul depended on it but nothing on her lengthy resume prepared her for Anthony “Oz” Osso. “You didn’t answer the question of what makes you so sure about me, Sir,” She protested, clearly probing for validation. She crossed her arms and looked away from the boy kneeling before her. This was a strange image for any person that passed by; she was sure. Goodness, her next shift would come faster than she wanted and there was no way her coworkers wouldn’t talk and ask her what happened this lovely Friday morning. She could already feel their eyes on them. On her. And her sandwich was certainly getting cold. “All this fluff.” She grumbled, trying to be stubborn and not give into his sweet nothings. “You see me as a talented writer. Whoop-dee-doo. I write, it’s my passion. I know.” Her inner brat that only he got to see came to the surface. She was an only child for most of her life until she gained a step brother. The brat was there even if she tried to hide it with class but only Oz knew how to bring it out. Her voice dropped into a mutter and she pouted, “Me not being mediocre has nothing to do with your feelings for me.”

“Mmmm, ‘Kay.” Typical Kim. Oz had come to expect in their short time together that she would dissect his words like a surgeon, looking for any loophole her brain can use to self sabotage. She couldn’t help it and he didn’t blame her, that was just her mind. He got to his feet and made his way behind her, placing his hands on either side of her neck. “You wanna know what makes me so sure? Fine.” Anthony’s fingers gently tapped and danced around her neck and lower skull, tickling, teasing and massaging. “How about the simple fact that being around you makes me feel like there’s a swarm of butterflies just flapping around in my gut? Or that when you're deep in thought, day dreaming, you chew the end of your pencil and it makes me smile more than anything else in the world? Or perhaps, dearest maiden…”

Oz span her chair with sheer force to face him and with a smile he pulled her into his arms. Kim latched onto him for dear life as he hoisted her up and placed her down on a table. With their faces inches away from each other, Ozzy raised his hand to caress her cheek and lip. “When you look at me, with those big hazel eyes and you smile, I literally can see only you. The world just falls apart and it’s just you. I can’t explain it, words aren’t my thing. Like when you kiss me, you’re a fucking goddess and I’m your humble servant.” His voice lowered into a whisper as he spoke directly into her mouth. “I’m sure because I’m sure.”

For a beast, he really knew how to make a girl melt. Effortlessly he moved her to the table, pushing her food so her skirt didn’t get any yoke on it. Her legs were open with him in between them, his face so close to her’s that all she could do was look up and see him. Kim had forgotten that she was outside her workplace. She had forgotten what she was complaining about. She had forgotten that today was a school day and if they didn’t start eating soon, they would be late. She had forgotten where she was at because she was happy to be wherever he was. What a strange feeling, to find someone you can’t get enough of. This was her boyfriend and he adored her.

Wrapping her hands around him, tangling her hands with his hair, Kim brushed her lips with his, teasingly, and then she closed her eyes and kissed him. She savoured their kiss, having thought about it all night. Her body leaned into his and her legs tightened around his waist. She could feel the heat and electricity course through her body. It went from gentle to rough in a matter of seconds and as a reward, she made an unexpected, delicious sound in his mouth. Her face beamed red when that happened and she pulled away, “W-we should eat.”

“I feel like I just did.” Ozzy chuckled as he licked his bottom lip, catching a secondary buzz from the residual taste of Kim’s mouth on his. “But yeah, I can totally go for some eggs.” The way she was in that moment; staring up at him, wrapped around him, that was the real her; the Kim only Oz truly got to see. She was wild, there was fire in her just burning away in her chest trying to spread into something resembling an inferno. He couldn’t deny it in moments like this, he had utterly fallen in love with her. It had only been two months but to him, Kim felt like the missing piece of his heart puzzle and now it had finally been fit.

---

Having finished their breakfast, Kim and Oz hopped back on his Harley and made their way towards Beverly Hills High. Once his baby was locked up tighter than a chastity belt, the metal head walked hand in hand with his girl down the hallways. It was safe to say both were walking in a bubble of their own making, a bubble of bliss and need. If any eyes were staring at them, Ozzy didn’t care because by the axe of James Hetfield he was fucking happy.

Once they were outside of Ms. Belmonte’s class, he felt that horrible pang in his heart, he knew it was time to say goodbye, at least for a little while. Glancing over to his right, in the distance stood a handful of alternatives; an audience of goths, rockers, nerds and misfits: Ozzy’s people. “The unwashed masses await me, my lady. And your adoring public await you.” He took off his leather jacket and offered it to his beloved. “You’ll never catch me dead in a Letterman but I can offer you this. In case you’re feeling like rising above mediocrity.” He smiled, his gaze never leaving hers. “And if not, well you can give it back after lunch and we can go make out in the drama room. Your choice.”

Switching her backpack for his jacket, she took his armour and put it on. It was huge on her. If Katie didn’t think she was dating someone when she saw her wearing this, then her friend was clearly delusional and caught up with her own agenda. Grabbing her backpack from him, she bit her bottom lip, debating something. Once a mental battle with herself came and went, a good sparring match inside her head where only one thought would remain victorious, she blurted, “Do you want to come over, tonight? To watch a movie? My parents aren’t home for the weekend and the company would be nice.” This could be a great way for her to officially introduce Oz to Katie, if the jacket wasn’t a dead giveaway. “I’ll make a nice spread for us and get the best blankets and pillows… it’ll be really comfy.”

Oz was no fool, irregardless of how he was perceived sometimes. A lesser man would assume that this was Kim asking him over for sex but he knew her better than that. When the time was right for them, the time would be right. This was her reaching out and allowing him to take a step further into her world, it was a sweet gesture that he very much appreciated. The more time he could spend with his lady, the better. Kimber had been quite guarded for much of their dating, a far cry from Ozzy had his Ozness, so any glimpse he got into her life was one to be cherished. “I’ll be there. You want me to bring anything?”

“… something sweet?” Kim offered, taking a mental note of everything she was preparing. Sure there would be popcorn, mocktails and a charcuterie board, but she didn’t consider dessert. Cannolis maybe? Or a cake. She was sure whatever Oz brought it would be yummy. She couldn’t wait. Kim wasn’t one to indulge in her cravings often but tonight she’d treat herself. It was a big night after all. If Katie was down for a movie party, tonight would be the night she disclosed her two-month long secret, who was standing in front of her with long hair, ripped jeans, and metal in his soul.

“That I can do.” Oz leaned in and kissed his girlfriend's full red lips; talking of sweetness, she was the sweetest thing he’d ever tried. There was order and there was chaos, one could not live without the other, to feed and take from one another in symbiosis and harmony. It was fucking metal, man and so was love. Love was sweeter than honey and harder than steel. So were Kim and Oz. “See you later?”

Breathlessly, Kim replied, “Yeah, of course.” She embraced him one last time, nuzzling her face against his chest and squeezing him, not wanting him to leave but knowing they had to go about their school day. This was the worst part of the day. “See you, Meatball.” And with that the metalhead was off and Kim entered her homeroom, which happened to be more eventful than she anticipated. Chaotic even, and that was okay.

As she sat in her chair, she smiled, peering down at her phone tapping it against her hand, in thought.

She texted her best friend.

TO: Kater-Tater
Are you free tonight?
For movie night? My place?
It's been awhile since we had one. 🥺

“Always so wild, man,” Samyan observed with a wide smile as the Morning Show cut off, their friend's face disappearing from view. They were sitting in Mrs. D'Amiano's class right next to their brother, who had his headphones on and his face down in his sketchbook, totally oblivious to the spectacle that was Beverly Hills High's Morning Show. Sensing his siblings eyes on him despite hearing nothing over the building beat in his headphones, Kisho glanced to the side to see Yani grinning at him. He slid his headphones off and sat back from the slouch that would have his father hiring etiquette tutors for him again, tilting his head in question. Yani humored his belated interest just as they always did. “Rye and Dani made Sully think too hard too fast, man, and the whole show was just like a tennis match; bam, bam, bam, back and forth with the lines,” they described emphatically, hands snapping back and forth at each other to indicate the rapid pace of the televised conversation. “Sully looked like his brain hurt by the end.”

“Concerning,” Kisho replied simply, no change in his expression during his sibling's playback to support his words. He put his pencil down and closed his sketchbook to give Yani his full attention. “Was he upset?”

Sully was a recent pet project of Ethan's, which meant that just like most of the people the other rich boy's interest latched on to, the rising streamer of low income status was on the fast track to becoming one of the Elite. Kisho now had to pay attention to him.

“Ah, mentioned something about being an indentured servant,” Yani replied with a headshake and an animated shrug. “Maybe upset? Maybe just realized and was trying to process. The other two did not really give him a chance. He should be fine, bro.”

“Okay,” Kisho accepted with far less fanfare than his sibling. If it was nothing to bring up to Ethan then it was nothing for Kisho to spend any more thought on. The internet star was Ethan's project and prospective friend, and the japanese boy was more than willing to wait until Sully actually began integrating with the crew before he spent any extra thought or energy on him.

He looked around at his classmates fully for the first time since each one’s arrival after he and Yani had settled down, both early risers that didn't mind chilling in the class long before the first bell rang. Unlike Belmonte's homeroom, which unknown to the others was missing almost half of its students, D'Amiano's was almost completely full. Helen Wells, one of two Tantalizers of room 203, was absent, as was Niles Sinclair, though the other boy spent many mornings in the library so this was no surprise. Helen's brother, Troy, was in his seat soon after the Fujimori's had taken theirs. Alvaro had been seated before the Morning Show started, having done his round of greetings to those that the royal remnant still deemed worth his time in their final year of BHHS, which included Kisho strictly for appearances sake.

Leila Webb was absorbed in her phone screen before she'd crossed the threshold- which also had the girl oblivious to the way Yani had caught sight of her as soon as she'd graced the room with her presence. Kisho admired his siblings’ dedication to this crush, because so far any interaction he's seen has had Leila responding positively but not with that level of interest that showed she understood she was being flirted with and praised. He wondered if the girl would respond back in kind once the flip finally switched in her mind, or if he'd be the beta listener for some seriously sad bops while his sibling worked through their disappointment. Ellie Walter's was sitting next to her friend, slushie blue tongue and lips showing as she mouthed along to the words in her headphones, waiting for Mrs. D'Amiano to officially start class for the day.

Oz made his way in with minutes to spare. Then, the Triple Crowns had made their attention grabbing entrance, connected by Athena following immediately after the first two Helmsleys, moments before the bell, and the sibling duo of Toury Phoenix and Dash Day had thrown themselves across the threshold as the final ringing was dying out, maintaining their surprising joint record of perfect homeroom attendance. The Tantalizer had almost fallen over her smaller brother in their efforts, but they both caught each other at the last moment and shoved the other towards their seats right as the Morning Show had burst to life on screen. Kisho supposed that when your parents worked in the same building, even the most rambunctious kids will retain a certain level of respect, if not decorum.

“Kisho I’ve been talking to you,” Samyan broke through his thoughts when they switched over to Japanese. “Where’d you go?”

“I wasn’t listening,” He replied, words more relaxed as he too spoke in his first language. “Sorry.”

Hiro Fujimori, their father, paid good money for the twins’ English lessons from a very young age, and preferred they speak it ‘properly’ whilst in public, including school, especially to maintain good business conversation and etiquette. This, of course, did not extend to their step-sister Wakiya who had no care for the business and had grown up in America on the Blue Hill reservation, halfway between Beverly Hills and some of their classmates’ hometown of Gravette, Oregon. She took great joy in teaching her new siblings all the slang and curse words she knew, so it wasn't like they were unable to switch up the way they spoke. Yani had picked up on and liked to add words like ‘man’ and ‘bro’ into their sentences like most people say ‘um’ or ‘like’, unwilling to stifle the personality of their speech completely. Kisho used more formal English than Yani did but both avoided contractions and anything that their father believed could make their speech come off as lazy, uneducated, or unprofessional- Kisho would like to insert an eyeroll here. It didn't matter that none of their classmates, some children of their father's business partners, were not held to the same standard. Hiro was a surprisingly understanding father in many areas, but he did still have his expectations and biases that he enforced on his heirs.

He understood his father's worries, of course. Both Kisho and Samyan have retained light accents- despite almost nine years spent stateside- and when Hiro and his father before him had been expanding their business and networking internationally, they had faced many biases and setbacks due to ignorance. Faced down many downright racist and xenophobic people and continued to push through until they’re family name was practically associated with oil. Personally, Kisho felt that his father’s ‘standards’ simply made him seem ignorant and biased as well, just like those he purported this standard would protect his children from. Contrary to his father, Kisho believed being able to adapt to the different ways the people around you speak was a sign of intelligence and skill in and of itself, but he and Samyan still understood where Hiro was coming from, and thus respected his wishes.

All bets were off when they spoke in Japanese, though, they'd struck that deal with their father before they ever set foot in their new home. They had to breathe some time, and their father could be worse than they were sometimes in their native tongue.

Speaking of Yani, they let out an affronted noise before slouching over their desk like a flower getting stomped on. “My brother doesn't even love me enough to listen! I make him music, I drive him to school!”

“I drove to school today, you dork.”

“Not the point!” Yani switched back to English now that Kisho was once more engaged. “But I will still cede it, bro.”

“Concede.”

“That difference hardly matters, man, they are practically the same word!”

“We can bring that up in debate at the next club meeting,” Kisho countered, looking away from his sibling with little care to the affronted stare they were leveling him with.

The Fujimori's loved Foreign Languages club, and many of the students there got to see a more open side of Kisho than the stone faced, soft toned friend-wrangler that was observed with the Elite, or the focused, agile predator on the ice and field who strikes so hard and fast you worry the net of the goal may snap. It was a safe haven for foreign students, no matter how long ago they moved, and for students like PJ Jones who were learning for their future profession, it allowed them to immerse themselves in conversational forms of whichever language they were conversing in at the time. The future ESL teacher - which Kisho honestly found a waste of her talents but was held back on saying by Yani's hand over his mouth- and twin of Yani's friend JJ, could hold entire conversations with them, only stumbling when they threw in slang or used certain words colloquially. Kisho was of the opinion that she should become an interpreter, be it for businessmen or entertainers, and Yani silently hoped the girl would expand her idea for her future in her own ways, but was unwilling to call PJ'S easily achieved goals a waste. Plus, her being in ASL club as well as working at Webb Heads meant Yani could barrage her with questions about Leila in several different languages and pass it off as helping hone the black girl’s skills.

PJ, while never actually fooled by the Raver's ruse, was willing to answer to a certain extent. While the girl had a habit of keeping her head in her writing journal as much as Yani’s brother kept his in his sketchbook, she truly did absorb more knowledge about the people she surrounded herself with than even she herself believed. Yani wasn’t ashamed about taking advantage of that for their own gain.

“Are you going to ask her?” Kisho asked his sibling as he propped his head up on his hand while leaning on his desk, having followed his sibling’s wandering eyes. Yani groaned, taking their eyes off of Leila once more and sending their eyes to the heavens.

“Guh!” They scoffed, pouting at their brother while he rolled his eyes once more at the dramatics Samyan employed in their every action. “Not so easy, man. She does not even get the flirting, how do I just walk up and say, ‘you want to go with me to the dance? I know it is last minute, man, but I have been trying to lead up to it since the first day of school’?”

“Eh…exactly like that?” Kisho replied in confusion, never knowing his sibling to be unsure of what to say around someone and unsure of how to comfort such behavior. “Preferably without saying ‘man’ right in the middle.”

“Do not tease me, this is serious,” Yani said, looking forlornly at the girl Yani has an album’s worth of deep, soft beats that they made while thinking about her. Only Kisho has ever heard those ones. “I am not just wanting Leila for one night, I want her for my world.”

Their brother sighed and rubbed at his eyes, unprepared to deal with Yani’s pining this early in the morning. Being a part of their world as a whole was not simple or easy, and it was a loud and bright place. He was the quietest and most reserved out of the five people in their household, but that was because his personality came out when he had a stick in his hand or a ball under his foot. Kisho was self contained and generally unsociable, and only really had the one big insecurity about himself. His sibling was not typically the insecure or hesitant type. One of the first thing’s they had done when Hiro brought Yani home from Miri and said they would be raised alongside Kisho was stumble right over to their fellow two year old and topple him in a hug. They ran up to people their whole lives with the beats to a song on their mind and just vocalized and beatboxed random parts to the person before asking if that sounded sick or not. Yani did a fucking backflip off a cliff on their last family vacation only to pop out of the water with a grin and declare, ‘I didn’t even know I could do that, just felt like trying!’ Yani never hesitated unless it came to business, and that was just because that was when it was their job to take things seriously and consider every angle.

Yani was hesitating with Leila Webb.

“Is that not what you are supposed to say to someone when you feel that way?”

“Yeah?”

“...Yes? You really should not be asking me this, I have not dated.”

“That is by choice and lack of action on your part, Sho,” Yani countered. “You have had people ask you out and told them no, and you have never wanted to ask someone yourself,” Their brows furrowed as they looked at the back of Leila’s head with their chin resting in their palm. “For once, I am concerned about being told no. This means too much.”

How? Kisho wanted to ask. How do you feel that much, know that much already? It wasn’t a lack of faith in Yani’s knowledge of their own feelings and desires, it was genuinely a disconnect of mentality between the two siblings. Yani was very aware of everything, felt everything, and expressed everything with reckless abandon. Kisho was paying attention but almost never truly listening, was reserved in his actions and attitude outside of his sports teams, and spent more time begrudgingly following the insane plans of his friends in the Elite than presenting any of his own. Yani loved openly and was one hundred percent their authentic self in both public and private. Kisho couldn’t afford the same luxury.

“Samyan, you have not been wrong before,” Kisho finally landed on, realizing how much his sibling was actually looking for his support and validation right now. “She seems happy when you talk to her, you are happy when you talk to her. Show her your songs or something, perhaps offer to show it to her in your car after school.”

Yani’s eyes lit up at the idea and they leaned across the aisle to excitedly punch their brother on the arm while he pulled a face at the spectacle they were making. “With my good speakers, yes! That was a good idea, man, I thought you just said you were not the one to ask!”

“Please calm down,” Kisho mumbled, sliding further down in his seat as people started looking their way. Homeroom was one of the few places where he was allowed to be invisible. “Or get away from me and go bring it up to her now.”

“Okay!”

“Wait-”

Samyan was gone, already out of their chair and sliding into the empty one in front of Leila and making sure they got the girl’s attention before opening their mouth to speak. Kisho watched his sibling’s return to following their impulses with raised eyebrows before he decided to give them a bit of privacy. Putting his headphones back on and reopening his sketchbook, Kisho picked up his pencil once more and let himself disappear from the real world as he focused on drawing his own. The buzzing in his pocket was probably the Elite chat, he could check that once he'd finished his shading.

“Hi, hey!” Yani greeted once Leila had given them her attention. “Do you have maybe five free minutes after school? I have a song I have been working on that I would like to show you, and something else to talk about! Are you interested?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Missing the Morning Show due to plenty of distractions in the hallway, Philomena and Cael found their way into their homeroom, right in time to be marked ‘tardy’. Strategically though, Cael went to Ms. Cat and offered her first pick in sugar goodness (and even offered her an extra one). He could tell she needed it by how exhausted she looked. The school day just began! There was no need to end spirit week with EXHAUSTION. Thanks to his generosity and sweetness, his voice like honey and velvet, the two friends were no longer tardy. They were on time.

Neither Minty or Pixy Stix knew what had transpired prior to their arrival nor did they care. Yet. It was Game Day. They had better things to think about than drama. Like love, and love, and LOVE. Then again, they did have room for gossip. Okay, maybe they were a little curious. They liked knowing things just as much as Trixie and Jamie. They were Candies! It was their duty to understand the dynamics of their peers so they could interfere and assist them in their social circle for the better. Always for the better. Usually for the better. At least for the Power of Love.

Holding the cake pops, Minnie hid her distress of how she would handle her dare, having no idea who she should ask to the dance tomorrow that wasn’t her best friend. Instead she had her gaming face on and pranced around in the room to find the lucky first person, or people. She wasn’t just going to pick anyone. No. Minnie was just as smart as Cael, maybe less so in the books but in the sea of social high school society. She knew people that knew people that liked to talk. Being a Candy made it absolutely mandatory to be aware of who is who and what is what. For the Power of Love, of course.


There was little to no challenge to get Andre going. He loved to talk and impressively, he knew plenty of what was going on. He deserved a cake pop and in return, she deserved tea. And Hana sitting right next to him was a happy coincidence so she could kill two birds with one stone and talk about the latest kpop sensations. Get gossip and feed her girl that loved KPop just as much as she did. “Hihi Andre!!! HANA!!!!” Minnie excitedly greeted, unable to wave because her hands were full. “Are you two hungryyyyyy? Because look what I have.”

She showcased the cake pops with flair and swag. “Stix and I worked super duper hard last night and thought we’d give all our friends a happy, sweet surprise. Do you like pirates? I did this one myself.” Minnie pointed at the one pirate face that looked disfigured and challenged. She wasn’t good at cake art. She was a dancer! But she did her bestest and she hoped her friends would appreciate the attempt. There was an attempt. “We also have cupcakes though. So if you don’t want a cake pop, Cael should be here soon with all the cupcakes. He’s just getting us a get out of jail free card right now. Oh!” She interrupted her train of thought with another train of thought. “Hana, did you hear the new song by SEVENTEEN (세븐틴)? Lalali?”

As Minnie and Cael rolled in as they typically do, Andre smirked slightly as he was bouncing a pen off of his desk. Minnie’s energy was incredibly infectious, and he couldn’t help but to feel his mood lift up as he witnessed her roll in with what appeared to be cake pops. Hopefully, Minnie was willing to share.

On the other hand, Hana was still pulling out her supplies. A binder, her pens and pencils, that one really good Japanese eraser, and so on and so forth. She was oblivious to what was happening at the front of the room, up until she heard a shrill voice scream her name.

“Huh- I-uh-what?” Hana stammered, before she put two and two together and saw what was going on. “Oh, cake pops! I’ll take one!” Hana beamed, as she plucked the pirate one from Minnie. It was definitely… rushed, but Hana appreciated the thought and effort. “Thanks, Minnie.”

“Biiitch, cake pops annd cupcakes? You don’t gotta say anything further. Lemme get both.” Andre said, sitting up in his chair and plucking his own cake pop. “How sweet of you.”

Staring at the cake pop, Hana was just about to eat it before Minnie said her name once again. “Oh yes, yes I did! I usually don’t listen to boy groups, but that song was sooo good.” Hana grinned again, “S. Coups killed it.”

“I ain’t into K-Pop like y’all, but from what I’ve seen… those dudes be making me feel some type of way.”

“Ugghhh, tell me about it, Andre,” Cael chimed in with a dreamy tone. The candy prince had a taste of the Korean persuasion once, and boy, was he an utterly delicious mouthful. Shaking himself out of his romantic reminiscing, Cael smiled and handed over a cupcake. “I hope you like them! …So, are you and the guys ready for the big game? Minty and I will probably polish up our routine during lunch… So excited to cheer you guys on though!”

“You know I’m fuckin ready.” Andre pointed the now-eaten cake pop at Cael, “I’ve never not been ready.”

The dancing princess nodded to her friends chatting, looking from left to right, side to side, and all around. She beamed when Hana and Andre acknowledged the delicious K-Pop boy band. Maybe just as delicious as these cupcakes they were serving. The boys were so hot and sometimes she wished she had a boyfriend just as hot. Alas, she didn’t. She would be forever alone because no boy noticed her that wasn’t her bestie. If she could explain her emotions in emojis it would be: Sad face. Lipstick. Disco ball.

Regardless of her lack of love life, she was one of the best genie-in-the-bottles there ever was to walk the halls of Beverly Hills High. It was her sworn duty to help her classmates harness the power of love. While she had no clue who would ever love her, Minnie knew that with a little fairy dust, wishes do come true. Dreams are what you make them. Life could be DISNEY. Cael soon entered the fray and it was then when she noticed Stella fuming. Fiery, fierce and frustrated, big boobie blonde goddess. That was Stella Manning. Lacking self control or spatial awareness, Minnie called out, “STELLA! YOOOHOOOO! COME GET SOME CAKE~!” She lifted the tray of cake pops high in the air before being rewarded with Ms. B reprimanding her.

“Philomena, please, I have a headache and it isn’t even 8 yet.”

“Sowwie,” Minnie apologized to Ms. Cat before profusely waving at Stella to come join them as she placed the cake pops on Andre’s desk. Whatever made her grumpy could be easily amended with something sweet. As they did wait for Stel to join them, Minnie decided if none of them would start the gossip talk, she would, “So, when Cael and I skipped down the hall, we ran into, what’s his name? He’s like two years younger than us… young lad, uh… no matter! We ran into that boy and he was holding Trixie’s bag and we were like well that’s weird. And then he was like Theo told him to bring it to her. Like, oh my goodness, do you think they’re getting back together? How do we feel about that if they are?”

“Eww, so not good. He gives me the ick.” Cael replied, following Minnie’s gaze to one of his other besties, Stella, who looked rather peeved. “Trix deserves a dance partner that can keep up with her. Ginger might be a spice, but it's not the right one for a salsa, ya feel?” Cael giggled playfully at his own puns.

“What twisted metaphor is this?” Ramón asked as he appeared behind Cael, having slipped into the classroom just moments before. The shortest boy had class in Mr. Phoenix’s class, so it had taken him some time to get there once the Morning Show had ended. After that, it had been a matter of walking up to Belmonte’s desk and sliding over a particularly nice bracelet from his bribery stash in his bag. The woman did let him spend quite a large amount of time in her classroom without reporting him, so some nice jewelry slid her way every now and then was the least he could do to compensate her. He’d imparted his own compliments to the woman, ever easy to be a suck up to, before making his way over to his gaggle of friends to catch the tail end of Cael’s words. “What are we talking about here?”

Stella Manning was fucking pissed.

God forbid she is thoughtful once and it comes back to bite her in the ass. It wasn’t often she thought of anyone other than herself, especially her on again off again beau, so the fact that she did that morning said more than words ever could. Was it mostly for her own personal gain? Sure! But nonetheless she had decided to do something nice for him and what did she get?

Ignored.

The blonde hated being ignored, it was the antithesis of what she stood for. Anyone with a pulse knew that Stella loved attention, and currently, she was receiving a lack of it from the one person she wanted most. So, she sulked in homeroom, hoping someone would ask her about it so she could fly off the cuff. And Minnie calling her over was the exact invitation she needed, even if her energy was a little much for her tastes at times. The girl stood from her seat and sauntered over, resting bitch face out in full force as she inspected the cake pops, taking one. “Thanks,” Stella plainly stated, before turning to Cael, “Theo can kick rocks with open toed shoes. In fact, I know a few other people who I’d recommend that to…”

“You look so gloomy, girl,” Minnie pointed out, adding a pout to emphasize her concern. There was a lot of conversation going on around them but it seemed like the focal point should be on the blonde bombshell with the rain cloud over her head, “Oh and Mimooooo, we were talking about Theo having Trixie’s bag for some reason and like totally sending some kid to deliver it but you know that might just be because he found it or something. Maybe they didn’t have sex. That’s irrelevant right now though. Stellaaaaaa, what happened? And why do you have all the coffees in the world?”

“Hi, I made you one with extra frosting,” Cael whispered to Mo, who had appeared behind him just moments ago. He passed the aforementioned cupcake back to him. Although he was talking to his third bestie that had arrived, Cael kept his focus on the drama unfolding before them. Stella looked ready to explode and the pixie was totally here for it, with a steaming cup of tea.

“Extra?” Mo whispered back, attention equally on the unfolding drama. That didn’t keep the eye roll from his face, however, as he took sight of the frosting laden cupcake he was handed. “Stix what the fuck? Take some of this, there’s more frosting than cake. And yes, Stella,” Ramón tilted his head in the direction of his childhood bestie. “Do tell on why you’re still…holding on to that.”

Stella sighed, setting down the tray with the three cups on a nearby desk. She popped the Chai and the extra shot out and set it down the two beverages in front of Cael and Minnie. “I won’t be needing these anymore, go nuts.” She grabbed her drink and took a long sip before turning to Mo, “Is the universe punishing me? I know I have my moments, but I like to think I’m a generally decent person.” The blonde quipped, ever the dramatic, “Ethan isn’t replying to me. Normally he replies in between 6 - 9 minutes because he’s needy, so anything above 15 means he’s purposefully avoiding me. That’s what I get for being generous, I suppose.”

“Oh, honey,” Mo intoned, staring at the broiling blonde in front of him. “This is exactly why this was supposed to be temporary. That boy was never meant to last for you, and now you’re stressing out over him?” The Candy King tutted, hand still holding the cupcake out for Cael to take some icing off of. He leaned against the nearest desk and raised an eyebrow. “If he doesn’t respond to you, he doesn’t deserve you, babes.”

Cael made a peeved face at Mo for rejecting his thoughtful gift. Feeling snarky and feeding off of Stella’s energy, Cael licked a dollop of frosting off of the cupcake and placed it back on Mo’s hand expectantly. “It’s true, he doesn’t… and, like, what else better does he have to do at this time of day?” Cael, perhaps a bit deviously, egged on the situation.

“Don’t give me that look like you’ve won,” Mo glared at his pixie before taking a bite of his defiled cupcake and chewing it defiantly in Cael’s face. “We’ve swapped spit before, you think that was going to scare me off?”

“I guess either way I made one special for you,” Cael smirked victoriously, clearly pleased with himself.

“Boys ain’t shit, Stella.” Andre remarked, ”Speaking of boys that ain’t shit, you know what y’all just missed?”

Andre leaned in closer.

“Y’all see Decky and Jamie? Those two were trading words, and I swear Decky was bouta deck his ass.”

Hana, eavesdropping slightly, leaned in to fill an excruciatingly crucial detail that Andre was omitting, “JJ’s chipmunk interrupted it though. You guys should’ve seen it. PJ screamed.”

“So that’s what that was…” Andre chuckled, “If it wasn’t for that rat, it could’ve become Drake v. Kendrick all over again. Hatin’ the way you walk, your talk type of shit.”

“Well that’s certainly more interesting than my homeroom this morning,” Mo mused, using the change in topic to avoid letting Cael know that he didn’t have a comeback. He didn’t blame PJ for screaming. Mo himself was no disney princess, the rodents could stay away from him as well. This though, this was what he was here for. “Was JJ a part of it? Do we know these words they spoke, or are we working on body language right now, dear Dre?”

“‘Dear Dre’ be working on both. With their body language, the looks on their faces, the words… ain’t no fuckin way it’s anything but.”

“Jamie this, Decky that, who cares.” Stella rolled her eyes, taking an angry bite of her cake pop. “You’re the ones who just said that boys ain’t shit, so why are we wasting our breath talking about them?” The blonde expressed with her mouth full, not caring that her words were mostly jumbled. She turned to Mo, “Are you sure you didn’t see Ethan in homeroom before you came here and crashed mine?”

“Bitch, did you not just say not to waste our breath talking about them? Pick a lane,” Ramón admonished with an eye roll before he finished his cupcake, making her wait for his answer. Once the confection was gone, Mo ran his fingers through Cael’s hair- his way of saying thank you, it was good- and shifted his weight from the desk onto the other boy while staring Stella down like a devious villain. “Not only was Ethan not in homeroom, but Andy was missing as well. It was another reason that I just had to stop by for our morning chat. Aside from the wonderful treats from Stix and Minty, of course. I was going to ask you if you knew anything, but it seems we’re all floating in the abyss.”

“Party planning! Or, or, or, WHAT IF he is trying to surprise you and ask you PROPERLY for the homecoming dance?! Maybe he’s getting flowers or he is keeping you on your toes so he can surprise you sometime today with a rizzy date proposal!” Minnie had downed the espresso shot and was currently covering her mouth as she chewed a nummy, white frosting, red pirate cupcake. “That would be so amazing if he just sweeps you off your feet today.”

“Hell would freeze over before Ethan Green attempted to woo a woman.” Stella scoffed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, “Besides, we already made plans for the dance. He’s picking me up at 8pm sharp, not a minute before,” The girl sighed, exasperated. “My best guess is he and Andy are off doing god knows what in preparation for tomorrow. I take it everyone has heard about the party at the Vineyard?”

“The who what now?” Cael perked up, his eyes snapping open from the relaxation of getting head scritches from Ramón. He snuggled into the comfort of having one of his best friends leaning into him. If there was any merit to the whole love languages thing, physical touch was certainly one of his. “There’s a party? Tomorrow? Like after the dance — Oh, did you finish my outfit for tomorrow?” Cael’s words matched his attention drifting from one thought to another as he looked from Stella to Mo.

“All you bitches questioning me today,” Ramón scoffed, moving his hand off of Cael’s head to give him a reprimanding poke in his cheek. “First Stella in the car and now you? When have I ever failed any of you enough to deserve this? Of course it’s finished, you just need to come over once you’re done cheering so we can do final adjustments if needed,” He stared them both down, letting his displeasure at their perceived impatience be known before he moved on. “Ethan is throwing a party at his family’s vineyard tomorrow after the dance, they announced it on the Morning Show.”

“I’ve known about it for a while, Ethan has not stopped yapping about it.”

“A party for the whole school at the vineyard… these Green folks are different.” Andre said, “Wish I had a family vineyard.”

When Himani Chakrabarti heard that somewhere in the school someone was giving out cupcakes, she made it her mission before first period to acquire said cupcakes. It wasn’t a difficult mission given that she knew well enough that if anyone would have sweet treats during the breakfast hours it would be members of the Candies and Candies tended to congregate with the business teacher during homeroom. Business was something the Candies dealt in; the business of who was kissing who was a very lucrative business after all. Personally, Himani didn’t quite understand it. Who was dating who, who was not dating who, it all seemed very…exhausting. And considering Himani was one of the rare students who had the same level of energy at eight in the morning as she did when the school day ended, to be exhausting for her was…an accomplishment.

They called it ‘tea’ or whatever, but now that she thought about it most people drank coffee in the morning so why not call it coffee? Didn’t matter. What mattered was cake and so when the morning show ended and there was a little time after attendance and before first period, Himani was out of her homeroom like a bullet and heading towards Belmonte’s class. She didn’t sprint. Not after almost breaking her leg when taking a turn too fast and tumbling down stairs. She was fine. Totally fine.

While the conversation in room 105 turned from boys to parties (as was always the topic in school, it seemed), a voice announced her arrival before her body did. “I heard there was cupcakes and I’m here about cupcakes are they for anyone or just for people in this class I wasn’t quite clear, I just heard from someone who got a message about ‘cupcakes and kiki’ but I don't know any student named Kiki, she must be new I’m sure they’re great.” Himani entered room 105 and hadn’t taken a breath since she started talking.

“Anyway, can I have a cupcake?”

“Of course, sweets! Here ya go!” Cael chirped, holding the tray out for her to pick her favorite.

“Oh, wow, they all look so good and colorful and you made these yourself? That’s so cool, sometimes I bake things but they’re definitely not good enough to share like this.” Her hand hovered over the tray like a claw grabber arcade game, moving back and forth as her eyes tried to decide which one she liked the look of more. She settled on a cupcake with red frosting. It was a school color and Himani was repping the school all hours of the day today.

“Wow, they’re so light and fluffy to the touch and the frosting…” She didn’t finish her thought before lifting the cupcake towards her mouth. Just before she took a bite she lowered it and looked towards Cael, blinking her bright, wide eyes so quickly it looked like she was overcompensating or blinking for the very first time. “These…these are vegan friendly, right?”

Minnie had gone from the conversation surrounding her to her phone, going down the rabbit hole of her friends on Facebook, and their friends on Facebook, trying to decide who she should ask out to the dance. The espresso might’ve put her in an internal panic, since it isn’t something she drank often (if at all). Truth be told, Minnie had never-ever asked someone on a date before and Cael was CRUEL for daring her too. Not looking up from her phone, she speedily answered, “Yes, yes. Cael is really big on that stuff. Like vegan friendly, gluten free, uhhhhh…. no peanuts because we can’t risk allergies like that. Am I missing anything Stix?” Her gaze paused on a handsome face on her screen and thought to herself ‘what if’, trying to imagine a scenario where she would run into him.

“It’s my first time trying it, I hope they’re good...” Cael immediately interjected, as if to defend them up front, just in case they sucked. “I used vegan cream cheese for the frosting and everything! We wanted to make sure they’d be something everyone could enjoy, and I mean, if I’m gonna maybe have a bakery someday I ought to get a jump start learning alternatives!” He beamed proudly at Himani.

“Oh, vegan cream cheese? Not vegan buttercream? You probably meant the same thing, this looks way too good.” Given the go-ahead, Himani took an eager bite of the cupcake. And then she chewed. And kept her smile. And chewed. And really tried to maintain her smile. “Not used to not using eggs?” Himani would never say anything bad about anything a student, or a friend, made and that held true now. Even if it was a little…dry in the cake part. “I don’t wanna tell you how to bake because you’re great at it and I don’t know anything but in my experience eating vegan if you add just a little bit of applesauce to the batter you’ll be thanked by vegans everywhere. Or at least me. Don’t get me wrong, this one is so good.” As if to prove a point, Himani took another bite. It was not one she necessarily wanted to, but she gave a thumbs up as she did.

“Oh, well yeah, I meant to use cream cheese… because they’re red velvet,” Cael defended weakly, but it was already too late. She hated them, oh no. The sparkle in his eye faltered slightly. “Right, applesauce, I’ll try that next time! I hope you’ll still be willing to taste test for me?”

“Not only will I be willing to taste test, I’d be willing to share my recipes. Not that I have recipes I mostly just got stuff from the internet but I’ll bring you some pumpkin bars. Because it’s October and pumpkins are everywhere! You like pumpkin, right? Of course you do, everyone likes pumpkin! Did you know they put it in coffee? Anyway, taste test, yes, cupcake, good, pep rally, see you all there. I’ll be the one in the big pirate costume!”

“Sounds great, see you there!” Cael chirped in his usual bubbly tone. As soon as Himani was out of earshot, the temporarily red-haired pixie glared at his best friends. “Why didn’t any of you tell me they sucked?!”

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
Hey
I’m sorry

There was a brief pause before Jamie's phone began to buzz with numerous text notifications.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
I fucked up. I wasn’t myself and I feel like shit.
I’ve sobered up a bit so this is me.
I need space because I can’t deal.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
I said some fucked up shit, did some fucked up shit
and this whole situation got me fucked up.
Can’t keep doing this.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
I want more, Jamie, and that’s not what you want.
I’ll respect that.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
Moving on.
I need to.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
I’m sorry I’m not right for you but I know it’ll be ok.
You’re badass and I know you’re gonna do great.

There was a long pause and all that could be seen on the screen was AJ typing.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
Typing…
Typing…
Typing…

Similar to Mordechai texting AJ, the length of the message that came through on Jamie's phone did not match the wait it took to send it.

FROM: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
Good luck.

And then it stopped. Everything, all at once, stopped. No phone buzz, no notifications, and no 'I love you'. There was nothing more for AJ to say. He was finally following through with his words and what he needed to do. He needed it all to stop so he’d do just that. Make it all stop. With two simple words, AJ stopped everything.

Good luck.

Jamie looked down at his phone, foot tapping against the floor of the Newsroom. His stomach had twisted itself into knots when he saw AJ’s name appear on his screen, and it had only gotten more tangled as he read the messages. Jamie Callaghan hadn’t cried since he was fifteen, but he wanted to right now. He wanted to cry and scream into the void, but there was no void to be found. Only the judgmental faces of his classmates and all the potential consequences of absolutely losing it in front of them.

His mind spun, trying and failing to process the sudden stream of information. AJ had broken up with him, then AJ had…well he didn’t really know what to call AJ’s behavior earlier. He thought of the lectures the teachers had given them freshman year, of the talks he and Katie had received from their parents when they came home with matching hickeys. This wasn’t like the horror stories he’d heard…but it wasn’t not like them either. He couldn’t help but trip on the context of it all, blinded in part by the AJ he’d known, and his own part in making it disappear.

Because he didn’t want that moment to be how he remembered AJ. Angry and hurt, probably coked up (he didn’t have the bandwidth to even approach that can of worms) and worst of all, scary. He wanted to remember driving up the coast with him, top down, wind tousling their hair and music drowning out their laughter. He wanted to remember climbing out his bedroom window to watch the stars from his roof, dull as they were against the LA sky. He wanted the late night conversations, and the backseat hookups and fuck, there might’ve even been a part of him that missed doing homework in the garage while AJ tinkered with his toys.

And yet, he couldn’t have any of that anymore, not without thinking of the way his stomach dropped when he was between AJ and that wall. He ground his teeth together as he felt his eyes sting. Jamie Callaghan hadn’t cried since he was fifteen, and he wouldn’t start now. Instead, he would do the next best thing.

He texted Trixie.

To: Trix
where are you???
i need to scream

He waited a few minutes, tapping his fingers against the table in front of him, anxiously awaiting a response. When none came, he picked up the phone again.

To: Trix
hellooooooo???
answer
emergency
are you dead??
i stg
i’m coming to find you

Moments later, he was zooming in on a map, where a picture of Trixie hovered over the parking lot. What the fuck was she doing out there? He snagged his bag and threw it over his shoulder with a huff, storming out of the Newsroom without a word, and making a beeline for the parking lot. The student body didn’t move out of his way quite as quickly as they did for The Hive or The Elite, but it was quick enough.

Once he was outside, it didn’t take long to find Trixie’s parking spot. Her car was parked right next to his, as inseparable as they were it seemed. He marched over, expecting to find her doing homework in the driver’s seat, or working on an article for the paper, away from the distractions of the school. Instead, she was splayed out across the back row, passed out. “Trixie, what the fuck?” he said, mostly for his own benefit before he began rapping his knuckles against her windows. “Bitch, wake up, I thought you were dead!”

What year was it?

When Trixie awoke, her stomach had the rumblies and her hair was disheveled. She could barely process the knocking on her window. Her best friend was outside clearly trying to check on her but her mind was set on two things: her thirst and her hunger. Her gaze searched her car and by luck, she caught sight of water and a bag of snacks. Reaching forward, she grabbed the water first and began downing it. As she drank, Trixie noticed Jamie watching her and she held up a finger, telling him to hold on a second. She needed to quench this intense thirst. What the fuck did Monarch do to her? After she practically emptied it, she urgently grabbed the bag and pulled out the Takis Fuego chips. Unceremoniously she stuffed her face.

Why was she so hungry?

Trixie had cravings and urges but nothing like this. She felt like she hadn’t eaten in ages and was going to die from starvation. With her mouth full, Trixie finally unlocked the door and beckoned Jamie to come in, not ready to go outside just yet. After ravenously eating a couple more handful of chips, she gasped and cursed, “Fucking hell… remind me to be with you when I try to smoke ever again. I’m so sweaty. I need a shower. And I’m HUNGRY. What time is it even?”

Jamie looked down at his phone then up at her as he climbed into the car. “Queen, it’s noon. You slept through second period.” he said, slamming the door behind him to punctuate his words. His own problems seemed to melt away, subdued by his friend’s strange behavior. “Since when do you get high in the middle of the day with Monarch?” He raised an eyebrow before digging around in his bag for his leftover lunch. “You want a granola bar?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Trixie accepted with her chip bag on her lap. As she licked her fingers, she reached for the granola with her free hand. Would she survive? She had no idea. She was so hungry, it was hard to fathom. The small Latina didn’t think anyone could get this hungry but here she was throwing all elegance out the window, inhaling food she wouldn’t usually partake in that was conveniently by her. She figured the bag full of snacks was from Monarch, which would explain how she got here but how did the girl retrieve her bag? Did she run into Theo? Did Theo mention something to her friend? Oh god. The thought of Monarch and Theo talking caused Trixie to nervously chuckle. What if he told Monarch lies and she believed it? To hide her internal turmoil from her best friend she bit into the granola.

Chewing in silence before finally answering Jamie’s first question, Trixie admitted, “I had a real shit morning and I might’ve been caught crying so rather than tell them anything, I just agreed to get high. And you know what? I’d rather feel famished than like shit. How ‘bout you? You tend to track me when you need me. What’s up?” Trixie deflected, turning the conversation around and toward Jamie. It was a clear maneuver that her friend knew well. When she didn’t want to go into detail she volleyed back in hopes he’d cave first.

No matter how long they’ve known each other, Trixie habitually avoided talking about the bad. Jamie usually had to pull her teeth in order for her to admit her hurt. Kingsleys were stubborn as fuck. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell him either. It was just whenever she thought about it, she could feel an uncomfortable sensation throughout her body and she didn't want to feel that. She was ashamed to feel bad. Beatrix Kingsley considered sadness, fear, and guilt as weakness and didn’t want to be pitied, not even by her best friend. If he probed, she’d answer but she was going to buy herself time for as long as she could. That’s just how Trixie was. How do you even explain being sexually harassed by your ex without it sounding like something horrible? Was it right for her to paint Theo in that light? What gave her the right? She broke his heart, maybe she deserved it.

On any other day, Jamie might’ve pushed harder. Today though, he was all too happy to dive into his own issues. “AJ dumped me, like, out of nowhere,” he said, letting his head fall back against the seat. “Look at this text. I mean, what do I even do with that?” He handed his unlocked phone over to her. Realistically, he knew exactly what he was supposed to do with that text. It was plain as day; walk away, and let it go. Unfortunately, he’d never been great at either of them. “He’s not himself right now. This is just…I don’t know what it is, but it’s stupid.” Something stopped him from telling the whole story of this morning. Maybe because he knew how it sounded, or maybe because he just didn’t want to relive it.

Okay. This was surprising yet not surprising all at the same time. Trixie wiped her hands on the napkins that Monarch also provided in the plastic bag before grabbing the phone to examine the text. Silently, she scanned and analyzed every word. Once she was done digesting AJ’s message she looked up at Jamie, examining his expression. Not only did he press forward with her issue, volunteering to start with his problems, which was not like him, but he looked like shit. No matter how hard he could mask his stress, she could see the confusion in his stare and how he was in complete and utter disbelief. It didn’t take long before she saw the bruise on his neck. Trixie gritted her teeth, “Did he hurt you?” Her hunger turned to anger, seeing how not long ago she too was put in a predicament this morning with her ex. “What happened this morning?” Trixie sharply asked, her expression growing cold.

Jamie’s hand flew instinctually to his neck, trying to play it off like he was scratching an itch. “No, not really.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “He just…he shoved me and grabbed my arm–it wasn’t bad it was just…I don’t know. He’s not like that, I swear.” He heard it as soon as the words fell out of his mouth. “Okay, I know how that sounds, but I am not a battered woman. I’m fine.” He shook his head. “I may or may not have tried to get him and the Gearheads blacklisted from Ethan’s party, and Levi may or may not have told me to go kick rocks.”

Furrowing her brows at his explanation, Trixie tried to ease her jaws and relax. The anxiety from earlier, that sat in her stomach, made it so easy for her to grind her teeth and look unamused. She felt sick. Her head was pounding too from the pressure and there was this uncontrollable rage coursing through her small body. Her friend needed her. She had to stay calm and not lose her cool. “You do realize if that wasn’t something you gave consent to, you can press charges on AJ, right? We could skip all that law bullshit though! I can take my gun out of my glove department...” Trixie’s voice trailed off as her hands subtly shaked. The thought in her mind wasn’t that of AJ Tyler but of Theodore Van Cise. She didn’t even care about Jamie’s petty reaction of trying to prevent the Gearheads from going to the party - Levi was the worst person for him to go to and when she had a cool head she’d address that - what she cared about and was hyper fixating on was the fact that AJ hurt Jamie. After putting the plastic bag filled with both snacks and garbage on the ground, she reached over her center console, trying to climb over it, to get to her glove department, “Just say the word, Jamie, and I’ll shoot his fucking head off. Like why the hell was he doing party drugs or alcohol at 8am in the goddamn morning? ‘I’ve sobered up’ the fuck? Yeah, no, not today. Bitches gonna’ die.”

“Oh my god, we are not going to kill him,” Jamie playfully shoved her back into her seat. He wanted to do a lot to AJ Tyler, but homicide wasn’t one of those things. He laughed, and as the laughter subsided, he stared at Trixie with the kind of look you can only get from someone who knows you pretty damn well. “And I don’t need the cops. It was…shitty and weird, and it’s done.” Despite everything happening with him, he could tell that Trixie was off, to say the least. He had a sneaking suspicion that her reaction was less about him, and more about whatever had led her to Monarch’s smoky embrace. “Okay, why were you having a shitty morning? Don’t bullshit, you’re clearly in a mood.”

When Jamie turned the tables, bringing the focus on her, Beatrix grew silent. She looked from Jamie to her hands and found it hard to disclose her experience to him. He was her best friend. If she couldn’t tell him, who would she be able to go to? “Um,” the small Latina whispered, clasping her hands together to ground her. My Bea. She could hear his voice and it made her sick to her stomach. Was it wrong for her to put Theo in such a bad light? He was checking on her even if he overstepped boundaries… he was checking on her. It was similar to Jamie’s encounter with AJ, right? But then why was he able to tell her what happened and she found herself speechless. Lost for words.

Tightening her grip on her hands, she played back her morning and how surprised she was. The shock, the confusion, and… the fear. He didn’t hurt her. He would never hurt her. She broke his heart but he wasn’t capable of harming her. She’d be an idiot to think he’d lay a finger on her, right? “Um,” she repeated, her eyes beginning to water. Reliving the memory, stuck in the bathroom, Trixie’s breath shortened. Something she’s never experienced in her life.

She couldn’t breathe.

Frozen in her tracks, Trixie closed her eyes as her tears began to trail down her cheeks. “Can… we… talk…” she stammered, catching her breath in between her words. She wildly shook her head, her hair covering her face as she did so, to get his smile, his touch, and his eyes out of her head. She needed to get a grip. “To…night. My… place.” With Theo as her next door neighbor, Trixie didn’t want to be home alone tonight and her mom was in another country with one of her star figure skaters, her dad was at a conference, and all her brothers no longer lived in the nest.

Trixie was utterly alone.

Stopping this sudden fit of terror to the best of her capabilities, having no idea she was experiencing a panic attack, Trixie released her hands and slapped her cheeks, swallowing her tears, “I lied to you,” she admitted, redirecting her train of thought to something less intense. “This morning…” she breathed, finding it easier to talk about the time they were together versus the time they decided to go about their days to their own personal hell. “Marcos isn’t getting anyone knocked up. Actually, my life is so… lonely!” Trixie forced a smile on her face. Her voice went up an octave. There was clear anxiety in her tone. “I spend so much time focused on my future and school,” she continued to explain, finally meeting Jamie’s gaze. “That… I feel so empty.” Trixie’s guard completely dropped at that moment. While she wasn’t able to talk about her morning, she was capable of talking about her internal crisis that she’s been feeling for months now. Trixie was a fucking mess and she was so desperate not to be. “I go home some weeks completely alone. My parents are very busy people and outside of you, I suck at trusting. I have ‘friends’ but only you really know me. Look at me, my grades are great and I have a plan for the future. Woohoo. Then why am I still miserable? What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Jamie furrowed his brow as concern etched a frown across his face. “Babe…” Jamie sighed, and chewed his bottom lip. He wasn’t used to seeing Trixie like this. Out of sorts wasn’t even the right phrase for it. She was spiraling, worse than he was, which was saying a lot. He put his own freefall on pause. It was surprisingly easy to do, with Trixie’s sanity on the line. “The only thing wrong with you is that you think there’s something wrong with you.” He tilted his head. “I’m gonna sound like Katie for a second, but I think you need a good time. Like, ASAP. So yes, I will come over tonight, and I will bring a bottle of my parents’ favorite champagne. We can do a spa night and order sushi, and pretend like our lives are not falling to pieces.” He paused, before adding, “And you’ll tell me what the fuck happened this morning, because it absolutely was not Bambi ruining your shirt.”

Wiping her fingers under her eyes, Trixie gave a genuine smile and nodded, “I’d like that a lot. And I promise. I’ll tell you everything, I just don’t want to cry at school right now. God, I missed second period?” Burying her emotions deep, deep down to be a functional human being in BHHS society, Trixie glanced at her rear-view mirror to see her hair going every which way. God, she looked like she just had rough sex and Trixie was, sadly, still a virgin. Raising her arm, she wafted her armpits before grumbling, “I should slip in the gym locker room to shower. People will talk and assume the worst.”

“Yeah, no, you definitely should. I love you, but this is not a good look right now.”

With one airpod in his left ear, Machine Gun Kelly ft. Corpse ‘Daywalker’ playing on low volume, Stanley T. Rogers, sophomore Sports & Culture news editor (who dual roles occasionally as an editorial cartoonist when he impresses his upperclassmen enough - they were hard to please), held a voice recorder in hand and observed the growing crowd. He needed to sneak into the locker room before Coach Boone gave his speech to the football team.

Boone had a way of being pure fun, comedic and optimistic. During his iconic speeches, he used wordplay, focused on the word BELIEVE, and loved to make unusual metaphors. One thing that was undeniable of Coach Boone was he was memorable, hard-working and awe-inspiring. None of his players could deny that and he’s earned that respect by showing results, time and time again. There’s speculation that he may replace the hockey team’s coach this year because of a scandal that Stan wasn’t sure he could or should disclose yet without proper evidence. No matter, this game was huge for Beverly Hills High. Not only was this game in the Pirate Bay, that’s what they call their homefront, but they’d be playing in front of parents, students, and alumni, going up against their rivals, the Santa Monica High School Warriors.

The Warriors have been rivals with the Pirates for years, going back to their parents’ highschool days, and even further. Playoffs were in mid-November until the last week of December, colliding with the start of the hockey season. This was the ninth week in the season, out of eleven weeks, before any of the California high school teams were offered the chance to fight for the crown and honor of being state champions. If the Pirates lost today, they would have to win their last two games in order to make it to the playoffs. Same goes for the Warriors. If they lost today, stakes were high, but if they won, they’d just need one more win. Imagine the pride either school would have if they won today.

Now add the pressure that this game was a homecoming game. Winning a homecoming game not only leaves current seniors with a positive lasting memory of their last school spirit week, but it’s a good show to set the tone for the rest of the year. There was no way the Warriors weren’t coming in hot. If they wanted to take their biggest competitor in all of California down, they needed to conquer by force and blood. Stan had faith though. He always did.

They had an epic team with Theodore Van Cise and Benjamin Mayhew being some of the best players BHHS has seen in years, with the highest ranking stats in the SoCal area. He did worry though. Ever since Benjamin’s scandal, from his father’s arrest to his own personal, very public breakdown, Stan could tell from this season that he wasn’t himself. Theo and Benji were a dynamic duo on the field, synergized and fierce, yet lately they were out of sync. It was unlike the Pirates to fumble as much as they did this season. If the Warriors have done their research, which Stan had no doubt they did, they will be quick to go on the offensive and attack the team’s weak point. That was, right now, the tethering bond of middle linebacker and running back.

Stan BELIEVED though. He had to believe. The odds would be in their favor. They had all the support they could have sitting in the bleachers, they had cute cheerleaders that were ten times better than the girls in white and blue, and most importantly? Pirates were way cooler than Warriors. This year’s seniors were going to finish their story and he was stoked that Trixie and Jamie gave him the opportunity to report on it. Strolling down the field, he talked into his recorder, observing the competition while he made his way to his destination, “It’s your boy, Stanley, and we have one heck of a game tonight. There’s no doubt it’s going to be a tough dog fight out here. No matter what the score is, the Pirates always finish hard and they finish fast. All it takes is guts and attitude to be successful and that’s what Coach Boone always says. It’s going to be tough, it’s going to be hard, and our opponents might try us. You’re going to go out there and FIGHT. Fight like you mean it. But you’re not here to do it for just me. No, you’re going to get out there and do it for one another, do it for yourself, do it for us, and you’re going to go out with this win. You want to know why? Because I BELIEVE. “

He paused his recording briefly and mumbled to himself, “Man, I really should get promoted… I’m so good at this reporting thing.” He shook the fleeting thought of whether or not he was getting abused by his superiors out of sight and out of mind to stay attentive to the field. “FOCUS Stan.” He turned the recorder back on and brought the device to his lips once more. “Looks like there is a lot of energy in the bleachers, the cheerleaders and the marching band are ready to bring in the hype, nothing like Friday Night Lights, and I’m about to interview—”

“Me.” An assertive and commanding voice struck Stan’s ears. The tone didn’t fit the mousey, bespectacled woman emblazoned in white and blue that approached him and forcefully snatched the recorder from his hands. With feigned enthusiasm she began her own mock interview with herself.

“Why thank you Stan! Pirate pissants, this is Cadence Webb from the Warrior Weekly with an exciting message for you: You’re trash and you always have been.”

With a flourish, she jabbed the rival reporter in the chest with the utmost gusto.

“Yes that’s right, Stan! Your loser team is destined to lose tonight. After all, I heard your runningback was having some problems at home, right? You know that kind of thing just really gets into a player’s head, Stan. He’s certainly going to torpedo your chances tonight and leave your team sinking. And if that’s not enough, what was that you were just saying about Coach Boone? He likes to ‘finish hard’ and be up in his player’s guts? Disgusting! Guess a Pirate needs their booty though, huh?”

There was a cocky grin spread across Kay’s face as she slammed the recorder back into Stan’s hands. She had apparently overheard bits and pieces of his recording and seemed well connected to Beverly Hill’s rumor mill. Worse, she seemed cruelly motivated to use any and all of her sources to strike out at Santa Monica’s eternal rival.

“Don’t count on getting promoted or having any sort of career in this field, Stan. You’re the ‘BELIEVE’ guy, right? How embarrassing. You must not have much of a social life then.”

For some reason, Kay really had it out for this guy tonight, a tiny huntress assailing her prey.

Stanley’s right eye twitched. Fucking Kay. He hated this bitch. She was literally the worst person that ever graced this Earth and that was saying a lot since he went to school with the likes of Naomi Davis and Amy Kwon. Who did she think she was interrupting his recording with her own useless words?! He needed to keep his cool and show her she did NOT get under his skin. She did but that's besides the point. “That’s cute coming from a girl who is the human equivalent of a participation trophy. I will not have a battle of wits with someone who has nothing to her name. Who are you again?” Stan scoffed, defending his turf, before mocking her high pitched giggle and ugly grin.

“Oh!” He took a step forward, breaching the distance since she so happily chose to do it first. He snapped his finger, gleefully, asserting his own confidence and Pirate pride, “Is it hereditary that salad dresses better than you?” Okay, maybe he was stooping low but it was the BHHS way and his mama didn’t raise a little bitch. She was a bitch. Kay, he means. Not his mom.

“Really? That’s all you got? Salad? You really do suck at this.” Kay snickered while rolling her eyes.

“Let me give you some advice: If you want to be in this field, you’re supposed to make words sting, not resort to your pedantic elementary roasts. I guess I’m just like your parents though because I also don’t BELIEVE in you, champ.” She was clearly enjoying this game, goading him into a verbal duel.

“Well you’re a girl and I have my limits. What’s got your panties in a bunch? You’re so forward about my life when I bet your mom looks at you and calls you fat everyday. Go do something useful, like actually interview people from your team or change your tampon. I have more important things to do like not talk to dumb bitches like you.” Stan hissed. It was getting increasingly harder to hide his growing rage from this cocky, nobody Warrior. Through gritted teeth, he growled, “Just you watch, Kay, we’re going to WRECK you.” He didn’t care if he wasn’t as good at verbal duels as Trixie and Jamie were but he knew he was better than her. He went to Beverly Hills High. She didn’t.

Kay looked back at Stan with true disappointment, expecting venom and true hate but only getting a limp yelp from a downed dog. She wanted an inferno, a bestial attack, not this pathetic mewling.

“I’m really embarrassed for you right now. This is… sadder than I expected. I don’t know what’s going on in your life, but get some help, man. You can do better than this.” Her snide attitude was legitimately replaced with a sympathetic, pitying tone. Suddenly, she backstepped with a look of disgust on her face.

“EW, THIS GUY JUST SHIT HIMSELF! GET AWAY FROM ME, FREAK.” She yelled out with her fingers pinched over her nose, making her final barb to a chorus of laughter from the Warrior’s sidelines. She quickly hurried away from him, as if desperate to leave his presence.

What the fuck?

Stan quickly looked around him and could already feel the eyes on him. He booked it screaming, “I DID NOT SHIT MYSELF! SHE’S A LIAR!” She was right though. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this field.

Shit. Stinky Stan was not a good look. He could hear Jamie already.

Fuck. He let her get inside his head.

This sucked.

Roaring down the road with his brother clinging to his back, Decky escaped from the school for the day but not from the events of it. His mind was swirling with thoughts of light eyes, curly hair, and curves hugged nicely by tight denim. Now, after actually attending the pep rally for just another glimpse at the girl who he finally realized his interest for, his mind was also on the rapid pace of her practice-roughened hands, and just what else those hands could do. Mostly, to him. Decky has been frustrated on different levels his entire life, but sexually was not often an issue for the gearhead. However, the more he thought about it the more Decky realized that he hadn’t hooked up with anyone since early summer, having stopped his own thing with Rye and pushed him and AJ together midway through, once he found out that the toxic twink had returned and latched his claws back into his boy after their breakup. That was his own choice, of course, and he’d honestly been more focused on the drugs and partying with AJ and the others to focus on finding someone for a night. He’d planned to get laid at the end of summer bash, but then there was the incident between Rye and Ronnell that really ruined the party mood and had them all going home early, AJ taking Rye home so the smaller boy had someone to cry himself to sleep with.

So, sex hadn’t been on his mind too much recently. Which, for someone who’s been active for as long as he’s been doing drugs, is a stunning realization to come to. It’s also a realization that had unlocked the floodgates, and now Decky couldn’t stop thinking about it. He knew one person who he really wanted to talk to about it, and ironically that person was also the last one he’d slept with, back when he visited him a few weeks into summer break. Apologizing mentally to his brother ahead of time, Decky called for his attention over their headset.

“Boychik,” He spoke up, feeling his brother come to from where he’d zoned out against Decky’s back. The smaller boy squeezed his middle in reply and Decky continued, now assured he had his attention. “Get my phone and put Sunshine on a video chat for me, will ya?”

“It’s dangerous ta do that while ridin’,” His little brother admonished while Decky scoffed in response. Still, he didn’t miss a beat as he slid Decky’s phone out of his front pocket and leaned back a bit in order to pull up the contact info of Sonny Cernis. When he found it, right at the top under favorites, he hit the videochat button and pressed himself against his brother’s back so he could remain stable as he stretched his arms past him as much as possible, trying to allow the older boy visual of the call screen. My Sunshine showed across the top of the screen and Sonny’s contact photo took up the rest as it rang in both their headsets, and he felt Decky look down at the picture he’d taken of the other boy when they’d met up this summer. “Please remember that I’m here this time.”

“Turn your volume down if ya ain’t wanna hear us, brat.”

“What?” Danny asked with an annoyed tinge to his voice, unaware of his brother’s goading smirk beneath his own helmet. “And listen ta nothin’ just ‘cause ya wanna talk sexy with Sunshine? Why do I gotta suffer either way?”

“Talk sexy?” Decky whispered in a strained tone, resisting the urge to turn around and stare Danny down. “Please don’t say shit like that, Boychik.”

“You’ve really got no idea just how much I’ve had to hear ya say that I wish I could bleach from my brai-” The static over the line changed as Sonny finally answered the call, his scowl already sliding off of his face as he took sight of his lover’s helmet.

“Callin’ durin’ a ride? Must be desperate,” Sonny teased the other dark haired boy before acknowledging the one that he knew was holding the phone steady for Decky. “Hey Lil’ Boa, how ya doin’?”

“I’m good, Sonny! Please remember I’m here!”

“Turn your volume down if ya ain’t wanna hear us-”

“Ya both suck!”

“I mean yeah, we do.”

“UGH.”

Little siblings never win, even when that big brother wasn’t blood. Especially not when it’s two-on-one.

“Anyways, Mob, what’s up? Ain’t like ya ta call mid-ride unless somethin’s on your mind, but if it was serious ya wouldn’t’a gotten on the bike before callin’ in the first place.”

Sonny knew Decky well. Hell, Sonny knew Decky best out of anyone, and has known him longer than anyone. Mordechai Oren Boaz and Sonny Orpheus Cernis officially met at age 5 on their first day of kindergarten, but they had been aware of each other for as long as they could remember. The first time they saw each other, they were two kids locked in their rooms in their separate houses, faces tear streaked and struck red. Both boys, as if pulled by some string of fate, made their way over to their windows and threw open their tattered curtains to stare morosely at the only view they had: The side of the house next door. Imagine their shock when an equally battered child was staring back at them.

It started with a few hesitant waves through their respective windows, ever fearful of their parents walking in and getting angry at the un-approved interaction. Slowly, it morphed into silly faces and window-fog drawings, then showing each other whatever meager possessions they had in their rooms through their sealed windows. Sonny had dragged his older sister Lacey to the window one day, and Mordechai’s world expanded once more. Mordechai once held Danny up to the window after he’d been born, and could literally see the moment the other boy opened a spot in his heart for the baby. Lacey had by all accounts been the Boaz brothers’ first ever authority figure. Before even Phil the mechanic, Rey Rey of the Trip S, and Mr. Beau had become solidified as providers in his worldview, Lacey Cernis had seen two broken boys that had gained the absolute attention of her otherwise mute and empty eyed brother and decided she would do what she could to raise them, too. It had been her intense coaxing and coaching that had Sonny ready to talk and introduce himself the day he and Mordechai finally met in person, and later the reason for such a foul mouth as he’d learned to speak from her, though she would never admit it.

Not a single actual word was spoken between the two for more than two years, but the day both doors slammed on their backs for school, the boys walked up to each other and grinned, bright and pure.



Even when they began to hang out with the other Southie kids, including Decky’s eventual quartet, it was always Decky and Sunshine. They were like a single soul split into two bodies and they fought like vipers whenever you tried to separate them. In fact, Sonny had to be the final push that allowed Decky to sever his chains to Gravette and move south to find his uncles and a better life. If the ornery boy had instead chosen to be selfish and asked Decky to stay, Decky simply would have, no questions asked. However, if there was one thing Sonny always wanted more than Decky, it was for Decky to be safe and happy, and he was more than willing to suffer a bit for the sake of that chance.

So, it was no surprise that Sonny was aware of Decky’s turmoil without the other boy having said anything, right down to the level of urgency. That also meant that Decky was free to jump right in, as Sunshine had heard him talk about the topic on his mind multiple times.

"She's hot as fuck Sunshine! How ain't I realize that? And how ain't I notice she was interested first? It's so fuckin’ obvious now!"

“Pause,” Sonny demanded before Decky went off completely. “We talkin’ ‘bout JJ?”

“Yeah,” Decky responded, ignoring Danny’s interested hum crackling over their headset. His younger brother was obviously listening, which had him rolling his eyes. Kid couldn’t complain if he didn’t take the steps to protect his own ears. “Who the fuck else?”

“With you, ya whore? Don’t make me laugh,” Sonny laughed anyway, well aware of the face Decky was pulling behind his blackened visor at the remark. “Don’t be a lil’ bitch, continue.”

“She slid across my desk this mornin’ durin’ some chaos and somethin’ just fuckin’ clicked, Shine,” Decky did not whine like a child, but he was pretty damn close. “Like, everythin’ she’s said ta me since I found her in that music room Sophomore year, the way PJ’s so extra violent whenever I’m around JJ. I thought it was just ‘cause it was her sister but I’m thinkin’ it’s ‘cause she already knew-”

“Well, yeah. If I knew from here then there’s no doubt this girl’s twin sister was aware,” Sonny cut in, raising his eyebrow at Decky as the boy looked down quickly at the screen and then did a shocked double take as he registered the corner captain’s words. “What? Wasn’t my job ta tell ya what you’re feelin’.”

“Uh, yeah, it kinda was for this!” Decky bitched while Danny lost control of his calm and started laughing recklessly, making Decky tilt his head back in frustration and bonk the younger boy’s helmet with his own to make him stop. “What the fuck, Sunshine?”

“Mob, ya talked about her like…every other video call that we’ve had for I don’t even know how long.”

“She was my friend’s sister-”

“Don’t be an idiot, I know ya ain’t one,” Sonny admonished, making Decky go silent while he reigned him in. “Now back ta the point, that bein’ that ya now know that ya like the lil’ drummer girl.”

“Right, and me not knowin’ for so long-”

“You've always been like that when it mattered, Mob-"

"No! Not with you! We always knew-"

"That's different ya know it, jackass. Calm down, fuck," Sonny leaned back in the plastic lawnchair that he used at his desk, the flimsy back legs bending dangerously as all his weight went onto them. He pulled a blunt from the keyboard tray and lit it slowly, forcing Decky to sit in silence until he had chilled out a bit. Then, he made sure the gearhead was looking down at the phone when he gave him a salacious grin. "Or better yet, fuck her,” Danny made a disgusted noise of protest behind Decky and Sonny simply shrugged, taking another hit before clarifying- as if he needed to- his meaning. “In the good way, y'know? Like, actually fuck her, I think it would do ya both a world’a good."

“Sonnyyyyy, gross!” Danny voiced, knowing Sonny could hear him just as clearly as Decky. “Why d’ya gotta be so vulgar?”

“It’s part’a my charm,” He deadpanned back to the younger teen as he ashed his blunt, finally letting his chair fall back forward until all four legs were back on the ground. “We told ya ta turn your volume off, baby boy.”

“Fine! I will,” Danny pouted, pulling the phone to the side and flipping up his visor for a second just so Sonny could see the look on his face before flipping it back down again. He put one gloved finger up to the buttons on the side of his helmet, hovering over the minus button as his covered eyes looked at his brother figure through the screen. “Love ya, talk ta ya later.”

Sonny visibly melted at the words, a warm smile overtaking the teasing one on his face as he told the boy with genuine care, “Love ya too, kiddo, talk soon.” Once Danny had turned his volume down and returned the phone center to Decky’s front, Sonny took another hit and addressed his lover in crisis. “Seriously though, ya gonna try an’ get with her now? You’re not one ta avoid somethin’ or someone ya want.”

“This feels different, Sunshine,” Decky said seriously as he pulled off the freeway and took the turn towards Dom’s. They had a few more precious minutes to speak, and Decky needed to get this out. Sonny stared silently at him, blunt momentarily forgotten between his fingers. “I mean yeah, I’m definitely gonna, but there’s somethin’ about this. I don’t wanna fuck it up, and I’ve never cared ‘bout bein’ a fuck up before.”

“Rejections only matter if real feelin’ is involved, Mob,” Sonny spouted as if that wasn’t rather deep coming from someone like him. Despite being pixels on a screen right now angled towards a dark visored helmet, Sonny managed to make direct eye contact with Decky. “You’re scared ‘cause you’re seein’ more than a night with this girl, yeah? More than what ya had with Rye, or your hookups there, or any’a the others back here aside from me. Right?”

“…What’re ya sayin’, Sunshine?” Decky asked stiltedly, keeping his eyes on the road as if that would protect him from Sonny’s knowing gaze.

“Oh, ya need me ta be blunter than that? By all means,” Sonny grabbed his phone off of the desk and brought it close to his face, giving Decky the clearest view of his stop fucking around face that he’s had all ride. “All these thoughts flyin’ through your head, all these scenes you’re playin’ out, is the one that freaks ya out the most ‘cause you’re able ta imagine introducin’ me and her one day? Is it that you’re thinkin’ long term with her instead’a just whose bed y’all are gonna break?”

“...”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ thought so,” Sonny put his phone back down in its standing position before leaning back triumphantly with his arms crossed. He once again let the silence sit, forcing Decky to think about his words, to keep paying attention for his next ones. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his face was serious and his tone was even more so, though the words were laced with warmth. “You’ve got my permission, Decky.”

Decky almost swerved off the road in surprise, both at Sonny’s words and at his use of Decky instead of Mob. He was serious. The bike wobbled only a moment as Danny’s arms and legs tightened at his sides before he regained control and composure, doing his best to keep his eyes on the road and not stare down at his phone in disbelief.

Decky and Sonny never once had a defined label for what their relationship was, they were just always them, and that had always worked out just fine. Outside of each other, there was nothing romantic about any of the entanglements they had, and there had never been a conversation on what would happen if such things suddenly developed because much like everything else in the two boys’ lives, they simply already knew each other too well. Sonny had scared off plenty of perspectives before that Decky simply hadn’t been interested in back, but this was different. If Sonny had shut Decky down right there, if he’d been selfish and told the boy that he wouldn’t accept the girl that had his eye, then Decky would have proceeded to wear shin-guards the next day and let JJ down as gently as he knew how, well aware that PJ would kill him if he tried to one night stand her twin. Sonny and Decky would always be a package deal, no matter the distance that life puts between them.

Yet Sonny was once again showing his selfless side when it came to Decky, a stunning difference from his typical aggressive and possessive nature with the other boy, and it left Decky with an incredibly simple question for him.

“Why?” He asked Sonny, glancing down to see a raised eyebrow from his lover. There were a lot of things that he meant by that, and Sonny understood them all. Why do I suddenly like someone like this? Why is she like you, the way I feel about her? Why are you accepting my wanting her without meeting her? Instead, since the other boy already understood the unspoken words, Decky asked another question. “What makes her different?”

“I don’t have your answers for that, Mob, only mine,” Sonny spoke softly now that he could see Decky’s receptiveness, no longer needing to bulldoze through his thick skull. “For me? I like the way ya light up when ya talk about her,” He shrugged, looking away from the camera as if it could hide his blush from the other side of his coin. Sonny didn’t do sappy often, and when he did he couldn’t get away without heat rising to his face in embarrassment. Let him say some of the most raunchy and nasty things with a straight face and not so much as a twitch of an eye, but sincerity was a weakness, a vulnerability, and it wasn’t something he showed often. “S’nice, y’know? Ta see someone else put that look on your face, means I get ta stare at it more often.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fallin’ for her on my word alone, Bashful,” Decky teased, unintentionally mimicking JJ’s name for him from this morning as he regained his footing in the conversation, now that Sonny was slacking his tight grip on the reigns. He cleared his throat of any lingering emotion that was constricting it at Sonny’s admission. He hadn’t realized he made such obvious faces, but he loved the way Sonny knew him in ways he himself couldn’t.

“You’ve shown me a picture before,” Sonny combatted, his crossed arms tensing defiantly and cheeks still red. “And no, I’m not, shut the fuck up. I’m just tellin’ ya that it’s okay. I like what I’ve heard, and what I’ve seen ain’t bad either, honestly. ‘Sides, it’s not like me and her have ta have anythin’ goin’ on between us just ‘cause y’all got somethin’. We just gotta meet properly and shit so there ain’t no confusion.”

“We’re gettin’ ahead’a ourselves, I ain’t even hit on her yet let alone asked her out and gotten a yes,” Decky brought up just as he pulled into the parking lot of the garage. Danny hopped off the back once Decky put down the kickstand, handing Decky the phone and leaving his helmet on the back of the bike before running away without another word. He stuck his tongue out at Decky from the door before disappearing inside when he saw his big brother was watching him to make sure he got in safely. With the privacy of his helmet still containing their conversation, the older boy continued. “She could hate me when I start flirtin’.”

“Mob, I’ve listened ta ya talk about this girl for so long that if ya don’t manage ta pull her then I’m gonna come down there myself, grip ya by your blue balls, and yell in your face about just how pathetic you’re bein’.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Next video call better come with an actual story and not just pinin’ and self-doubt,” Sonny proceeded while ignoring Decky’s response with practiced ease. He wasn’t kidding about that demand either, he would absolutely hang up in Decky’s face if the ex-gang member called him blubbering about the girl he couldn’t even bother trying to ask out first. This was different, this was the Conversation phone call. Now, it was time for action. “Seriously dude, go ta work and think about it, but don’t overthink it like you’re doin’ now.”

“Helpful.”

“I live ta please,” He drawled as he finally hit his blunt again, dragging slowly to reignite the dead parts of the cherry and looking Decky in the eyes now that the other boy had flipped up his visor. “Just be you, asshole, ain’t no one worth bein’ with if they don’t wanna be with that.”

“Thanks, Sunshine,” Decky responded sincerely as he heard the distant noise of a door slamming from Sonny’s side of the audio, failing to suppress his amused smile as the grumpy boy’s scowl came back full force now that his older sister was also in the apartment. “I gotta get ta work, tell Lace I said hi.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sonny rolled his eyes, leaning back in the flimsy chair and yelling, “Lace! Mob says you’re still a bitch!”

“No I didn’t!” Decky yelled in protest, hoping it would reach the girl over her brother’s shitty phone speaker. “No the fuck I didn’t!” He glared at a smirking Sunshine before hissing, “Don’t take me down with ya, asshole.”

Sonny’s head tilted as he listened to Lacey’s response, Decky barely able to hear more than her annoyed tone over the phone. When his lover rolled his eyes at whatever she said, Decky setted back down onto his bike seat, knowing that it would be a moment before he was brought back into the conversation and hoping it didn’t make him late to work. He couldn’t just hang up in case Lacey wanted to talk directly to him, she’d be so upset.

“Dishes ain’t done ‘cause I ain’t fuckin’ do ‘em yet, whaddya mean?...No I said I was fuckin’ gettin’ ta them, don’t do that bullshit where ya put ‘em away all angrily, I fuckin’ got it, bitch, stop!...I’ll do ‘em when I feel like it! I just got home when Mob called…” The look on Sonny’s face told Decky that Sonny’s older sister was making her way from the kitchen in their little one bedroom apartment to the living room where Sonny resided, and Decky finally saw her form appear right behind Sonny, who turned to once again cuss her out after he snubbed out his blunt. “Did I say ya could be a fuckin’ part’a this convo, the fuc- LACE!” Lacey shoved Sonny out of his seat with a hand to his face and Decky let the laugh he’d been holding in fly free, doubling over his bike at the irate look on his lover’s face while his older sister simply took the phone and leveled it to her own.

“Go do the FUCKIN’ DISHES,” Lacey yelled at her now hovering little brother, who slunk off towards the kitchen with grumbled curses and a middle finger held high to his sister. When she was sure he’d started his chore, she turned back to the screen, to Decky, and smiled. “Heyo babe. I hope you found a better fuck out there in that ritzy city of yours! Maybe find yourself a nepo girl and knock her up. I wouldn’t mind a big ass pool where I can just sunbathe all day, drink pina coladas and get caught in the rain. No care in the world. Just Lacey and the sun. Matter of fact… HEY BITCH.” She calls out to Sonny again, who looks back from his place at the kitchen sink on the other end of the apartment. “You move there and go find a catch to share. Let’s go fishin’. I’d like to retire ONE DAY.”

While Decky couldn’t hear Sonny’s reply, he could absolutely hear his ire and read the rude gestures he could see the other boy tossing at his sister in the background.

“Y’all know you’re always welcome down here for a visit,” Decky offered, trying not to get too hopeful at Lacey’s words that were likely meant strictly to barb at Sonny more than any actual plan to come down to Beverly Hills. He knew she was just teasing them both and keeping it lighthearted in her own way. But he thought about all the paperwork in his uncle Hirsch’s filing cabinet, the slightly older boy having done all the organization needed for Decky to easily present his income and stability to the bank for a loan. He’d also said he padded it for extra insurance, but Decky wasn’t quite sure what exactly that entailed. Regardless, Decky was on the fast track for having his own home for he and his brother before he even graduated this year. One perk of already being of legal age while still in school. “Hell, I’m tryin’a get that house soon, and y’all know there’ll always be room for ya.”

Decky checked the time on his phone and sighed. “Sorry Lace, I gotta get ta work. I’ll try and call ya soon, okay?”

When they’d said their goodbyes, Decky finally swung off of his bike and shoved his phone into his pocket as he hustled to the door his brother had entered earlier. He almost bowled Hirsch over on the way in, stopping just short of the intelligence gatherer as the older man stood in his way. He raised an eyebrow at his uncle in question and Hirsch nodded silently to the office, making his way in and closing the door quietly when Decky followed. The younger shifted anxiously for only a moment before the other events of his morning filtered in and his shoulders slumped forward, exhausted before he even asked. His uncle always updated him on exactly how much he knew the younger could handle at the time.

“AJ?”

“AJ.”

“Fine, but I’m punchin’ in first.”

Athena Helmsley was a simp.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an overstatement, especially given the fact that she wasn’t wifed up yet, but she was practically gnawing at the bars of her “friend zone” enclosure. Showing up to the Football game of the guy you were kind of sort of talking to was indeed simp behavior, especially considering this was the first Football game she had shown any interest in attending in the last four years. Calli was suspicious enough as it was. But, Benji didn’t need to know that.

The blonde stood leaned up against the side of the bleachers, out of sightlines but not far too from the action. After all, she was technically there to watch the game, but like always, she had her own agenda to attend to first. With the chaotic crowd focused on what was happening on the field, it was the perfect location for a quick business meeting. No one would be the wiser to what was being discussed and the cheering was an excellent sound buffer.

With a sigh, Athena checked her watch as she waited, a tad impatiently. She wanted to get back to the stands before she missed anything major, but then again, this was debatably more important.

And the person that Athena was waiting irritably for was taking his sweet time, leisurely drinking from his water bottle, in his black and red cheer uniform. Standing on the endzone of the field, with his fellow cheermates stretching and practicing, all ready and prepared to run to the front of the bleachers, Jonah Goldstein stared at his friend through a pensive lens. His fixed, cold expression was hardened from concentration and his dark eyes radiated fierce, uncompromising intelligence.

He didn’t move. He didn’t wave. He simply watched. That was how Jonah presented himself. A rock of a man. Hard to read and understand without a magnifying glass. Stable, steady, and strong. A man tossed by the wind and washed by the water. A man who lived through storms and now, thanks to his family, could use the force of nature to polish himself and be brilliant. A man who chose to take action and break his shell, to live and be, more than his family have ever lived to dream. A boy trying to succeed. That was Jonah Goldstein.

Part of his plan to success had to do with his growing friendship with the small, blonde student continuously glancing at her wrist watch. A gun of a woman. Hard to sway and challenge without presenting a pitch. Enterprise-focused, eloquent, and efficacious. A woman that had all the tools and resources at her fingertips. A woman who was a treasure trove of knowledge, wealth, and connections. A woman who had no limits to what she wanted to accomplish and achieve. A girl trying to live up to her family’s legacy. That was Athena Helmsley.

Together, they were becoming quite the promising duo and the fruit of their labor showed solely based on the fact that a Helmsley was waiting for a boy who may as well be considered nameless in the world of the rich and famous. There was a brief moment Jonah did scan the bleachers to see who was in attendance other than his darling ‘Olympian’. He studied who was arriving, who was engaged in conversations, and who was missing-in-action. To his surprise, he noticed Mordechai, his nephew, who didn’t care for school functions such as the homecoming game. Jonah caught sight of where his nephew’s fixation was set on, the marching band, and watched as Jordyn Jones, the caramel skinned beauty, with long, curly hair, that loved rodents, had an infectious giggle, and ate red hot flamin’ Cheetos savagely, eagerly waved up at him. Jonah smirked.

The cheer team began to make their way to their designated area, in front of bleachers reserved for Beverly Hills High Students. Alongside the cheermates exuding high energy, Cael and Minnie specifically, he cast an intrigued eye once more on Athena. Someone who he was surprised gave him the time of day a couple years back. Someone who understood business better than any other student that attended this elite, ridiculously expensive, and overrated school. Someone that understood that luck only exists when adequate preparation meets opportunity in a statistical universe. Meaning? There was no such thing as luck. All their wins were because of how well they played the game. Luck only existed because they made luck real. People would believe anything when they want it to be true. If they wanted it to be real. If they wanted it for themselves. So for the purpose of their business motto: Luck can be achieved, you just need to believe. That was Athena and Jonah. The Dream Team.

Breaking off from the rest of the cheer squad, ever so casually, Jonah strolled to his partner-in-crime and calmly jested, “Looking for someone that isn’t me?”

The blonde kept her gaze directed on the field, or at least the portion she could still see from her vantage point, tucked off to the side. Even as her friend and business partner approached, finally gracing her with his presence, she did not make eye contact, instead choosing to focus on what lay ahead. In a blur of black and red, she watched as the players scattered around the turf, practically identical if you didn’t know what to look for to distinguish them. But for her, it was easy to spot Benji, and it wasn’t simply because she knew his number. No - it was the way he only used one of his arms to propel him forward as he ran, the other stiff and rigid. He also leaned in a way that his head became level with his shoulders. Small details that other people would miss. But not Athena Helmsley. She noticed everything.

“Always,” She stated, before finally looking over at Jonah, taking in his cheerleader persona.“You look cute, nice uniform.” The girl smirked, reaching out and picking off a piece of lint from his shoulder, “Remind me again how you ended up on the team?”

“Thanks, it makes my ass look good,” Jonah answered offhandedly, his engaged stare never straying from her large, luminous, midwinter blue eyes. They were the lightest of blue, nearly gray. The windows to her soul were frosted, trying to mask and hide what was waiting inside. There was a moment, a quick one, where her gaze passed him and went back to the field, to the football team. In that rapid moment, that came and went as fast as his vibrant haired lover ran around the field with zoomies, Jonah saw her eyes glint. There was a fire burning quietly, a desire beyond achievement, and warmth coming straight from the heart. Softness that was unbecoming of a Helmsley. A touch of kindness, a pinch of respect and a spoon full of compassion, love and adoration. Keeping his thoughts to himself, Jonah turned and let his brown eyes explore the field, alongside her. “I’m good at catching people when they fall,” Jonah chuckled, knowing Athena well enough that that wasn’t a good enough answer.

Cheerleading, at least on the surface, wasn’t a role normally painted on someone like him. But that was the point of why he joined. To imagine something possible, to make it more factual and evident, one shouldn’t stay within the preconceived limitations he created in his mind. He joined cheerleading sophomore year when he realized Mordechai was having a hard time adjusting and while he’s been teased by his extracurricular activity, Jonah owns it, breaking the stereotype and inspiring the crowd. Just how he does as the Ringleader for Game Nights.

The last thing he wants his nephews’ lives to become can be summarized by these three things: could have, might have, and should have. He wanted the Boaz boys to dream and as their uncle it was his job to guide them while they searched for themselves, explored what makes them happy, and redefined their character. He was diligent, astute and versatile. Athletic, conditioned and patient. You’d be surprised at the strength necessary to cheer on an international level and male cheerleaders were in high demand. It was an easy sport to try out for, guaranteed acceptance. Jonah needed something to add variety to his day. The Cheer team did just that. “Cheerleaders love to talk. It’s a good place to find out who is involved with who. More importantly though? I do it for my nephews. I like to think it helps them defy convention.”

Athena nodded, understanding his perspective completely. If she didn’t already have a twin, or two, she would have been under the impression that Jonah and her had been related in some way, possibly even separated at birth. They were cut from the same cloth, never had the blonde met someone who thought so similarly to her. Someone who knew what she was thinking before she even could say it. And not in the normal way, the perceptive way. The strategic way. It was unique, to say the least, to find someone like Jonah. He was wise beyond his years. It was exactly for that reason she had been so willing and well, eager, to help him at first.

Cheekily, she moved back and checked out his behind in the cheer pants. “You’re not wrong. I didn’t realize you even had an ass. God bless spandex, I guess.” Athena laughed, eyes moving back to the field. “So what’s the word on the street? Who’s a hot ticket these days?”

“A few people of interest,” Jonah started, not one to drag things out. There was no reaction to Athena checking out his ass. When the self made man was focused, with a clear objective, he was completely locked in. “I sent a video link to your email. New kid. Just transferred in today. I’m sure soon Theo is going to clock him. Owen Lyon. In summary, he fights well. The video is him fighting a whole football team, not his but the opposing team, because they decided to harass his kicker. It led to them insulting his mother and yeah, that didn’t end well for the other team. I gather the reason they moved was because his father had to take over the 361 Combat Club. Rebranded to The Lyon’s Den. It closed abruptly a few years back. Since Theo is our biggest competitor, I thought I’d start with him.”

When he finished the first part of his ever growing list of prospects, he scanned the bleachers and directed Athena’s attention to two people that were conveniently sitting in the same row. Romi Rae was to the far left and Isaiah was in the midsection. “Then there is Romi and Isaiah. Understated and overshadowed. Jewels that go unnoticed. Just like me. I’ve observed them for a while now and I think they could offer something to our program. Romi is exceedingly fit, there’s no doubt about that, and we could use another bouncer. However, what I’m more interested in is the fact that her parents are deep in the AWE scene, and Joey has only good things to say about her. That means she must have stage presence and our whole thing is an immersive experience. An act of sorts. The House is a world of make-believe and fun, and I could benefit from someone that has acting skills; who isn’t in the theater department. Just something to think about.”

Jonah took a moment to drink his water when a couple of teens got too close to them, smelling of booze and weed. He waited for them to move away and stumble onto the bleachers. His dark eyes went to his fellow cheerleaders, his eyes resting on his lover, Cael. “Not many people know this but Isaiah raps and MCs at The Dolla Lounge. On top of him being smart, I am led to believe he has a keen eye and could catch things before they happen. It’s a plus he has a voice worth listening to. And I do think he’d be easier to convince to join us, over someone like Leila. She is too pure for us. And Yani is not an option because people would know who they are, immediately.” There was one last person he wanted to mention, someone that he thought would intrigue Athena the most but he chose to wait to hear her thoughts first, before giving her more to consider.

Athena pulled out her phone as Jonah spoke, tapping into her Mail app and clicking play on the video he had sent. It was evident it was filmed by a student sitting in the bleachers during the game, shaky, as if they were in shock, and the crowd’s reactions were loud and audible as the camera focused in on the tall player standing at the 30 yard line. It was David vs. Goliath, a single boy versus an entire team, but that didn’t seem to matter as he plowed through, taking them down one by one. It was unlike anything the blonde had ever seen before. Her eyes darted back up to the field, noting Benji’s unharmed form, before settling back on Jonah as she slipped her phone back in her pocket.

“Kid’s got talent. He’s Piper’s cousin, well, they’re somewhat related. Jamie showed him around school today, god only knows what he said to him.” Athena grimaced, “Theo’s going to be hot on his coattails.”

She continued to listen as Jonah riddled off details about their peers Romi and Isaiah, nodding along. The girl inherently trusted the boy’s judgment, which made this exercise more informational than anything else. She didn’t need to give him approval, they were far past that. She simply enjoyed hearing and seeing how the wheels turn in his head, learning what made their classmates tick. “Both seem like solid additions, Jo. So long as they understand the secrecy that goes into an operation like this. I’m sure you’re already plotting how to approach them, don’t let me get in the way of that.”

He did have a plan. He always had a plan. Jonah was the type of guy already thinking months ahead, which is shown from his work ethic as a student. His homework was done for the rest of the semester, having schmoozed his way on getting the syllabus for each of his classes in advance. He didn’t have time to waste when he had people to meet, places to be, and connections to make. “You know me well. But before I pursue those options, I have a date with Toury. A more interesting avenue that we conveniently have an in with, comes in the form of her step brother, Dash. Turns out that little Dash is genius level good at billiards. His father, the rapper not Mr. Phoenix went live this past weekend and in the background I could see Dash playing. When his father gave a tour of his place, I took a closer look and that kid was destroying his father’s friends, without breaking a sweat. One thing led to another and I found out Dash used to be part of the APA junior league, that is until his parents divorced. His rep though makes it hard for anyone to believe he’s good at anything, seeing how he’s hyper fixated on becoming a pro fighter and… is doing his best.”

Athena raised an eyebrow, always impressed with Jonah’s instincts. Most of the time they rivaled her own. “Interesting,” She bit her inner lip, thinking through things more thoroughly, and leaned up against the bleachers. “We’ll have to convince Toury, I’m assuming, and get her on board with the idea. I highly doubt she’d let him get involved so easily without some type of sway. We can give her a cash advance, call it a generous referral bonus.” The blonde ran her fingers through her hair, “Make sure she knows that he’ll be taken care of if things go haywire. I don’t foresee that happening, but speaking from experience, I wouldn’t let my siblings get involved unless I knew they’d be protected if things went south.”

“I’ll talk to Monarch, see if she has any information on Dash that might interest his sister,” Jonah voiced, knowing well enough money would not be the only thing Tourmaline would want. Money only guaranteed protection if it was meant for hiring men to be muscle. This money was meant to dangle and entice, which meant Jonah needed to go to Toury with more to offer. The cogs in his brain continued to turn, shifting his to-do list and formulating a concrete plan on how to bring in a new tournament where Dash was at the center of it all. He knew Athena would write him a check before the day was through. It was safer to do it the old fashioned way with a minimal electronic trail. They decided that when they formed the House contract. Business partners through and through. Till the end, whenever that may be. With his debrief completed, he gave a sly grin and leaned in toward Athena, as she looked toward the field. He whispered, “You going to ask him out?”

The blonde's steely edge dissolved almost instantaneously, a flush gracing her fair cheeks. Nothing got past Jonah, alright. Even though it was the thing she admired about him most, his attention to detail, she’d be lying if she didn’t say it was annoying as fuck. Especially when she was trying to simp in secret.

“That, my friend, is none of your business.”

There were many kinds of quiet.

There was the simplest form of the word; an absence of sound acting like a security blanket on those that craved it. There was a hushed tone, a whisper or a breath that could barely be registered. And then there was inner quiet, to calm the raging waters of the mind, body and heart. This was the hardest type of quiet to obtain. For most, they may never experience this form as they may not even know that it exists. In the hustle and bustle of a place like Beverly Hills, this form of quiet was the most difficult to come by.

But Adam had found a way.

For the early part of his life, a time he had mostly blocked out of his memory; Adam grew into a child however near the water. The ranch in Montana had a river and stream but nothing in comparison to the raging tide that crashed around him at that moment. When he and his family moved to California; the fighter had no idea about the culture. He was a cowboy, born in distressed leather and a dirty pair of Levi’s. Yet over the years he had found his true home in the water. There was no weather in which Adam wouldn’t ride. To face a wave; mighty and majestic in its monstrosity and feral force, there was no greater feeling.

Crashing water drowned out the words of his father, words that haunted him, words that like the blood on his veins flowed inside like a white water rapid, tempestuously destroying him from within. Adam soaked in the spray of the sea as it climbed up the cliff's edge and landed upon his bare skin. The beach had become his quiet place. From school he would travel down to golden sands; rip up the parking lot on his skateboard with a few of the locals, snapping shots with his camera as he did before finally stripping down and entering the water. Adam had made a small name as a big wave rider, taking in any and all incoming tides as if they were an opponent to be conquered and defeated. He had never lost a fight, he had never been brought down by a challenge. In the water, there was no difference.

He could not be stopped.

Exhaling through his mouth and inhaling through the nose, his lungs drank in the sea air and his mind dove deep through the crushing black. Where was it? That thing, that one thing that could become his anchor? That one thing that could keep him safe and tied to shore lest he be swept away by the maelstrom of his own boredom and rage. Where was it? His reason. His center. In the distance, Adam could see the tornado looming, the biggest wave he had ever faced; a tempest, it was going to sweep him away one day unless he found balance.

The great mistake would be to anticipate victory. He did not pray for an easy life, simply to find the tools to survive a difficult one.

---

“I’m serious, Butler, he could have responded earlier,” Piper huffed angrily from her spot in the back seat, legs and arms crossed as she alternated between glaring at her phone and out the window. Her Xanax absolutely should have kicked in by now, but it seems to be a day doomed for coherency. She must have been building up her tolerance again, she’d have to find a way to get more than her prescription alone gave her, and Butler would make that nigh impossible. Has made it impossible since daddy caught her earlier in the summer completely fucked up and started rationing her meds to her. “A whole day of nothing just for, Andy had a breakdown, planning the party, see you tomorrow. Honestly, I like Andy, I would have understood! Now I’m not seeing him until what, he picks me up for the dance?” Silence from the driver's seat. Not a twitch of muscle in what she could see in his face in the rearview. “Fine, jerk, be that way.” Piper threw herself back in the seat and pouted, kicking her leg angrily as she waited for Butler to pull into the parking spot so she could escape. Escape to the one bit of freedom she had to herself.

Celeste was her ticket out but only if she stayed near the other girl, and the blonde absolutely loved to drag Piper around so it worked, same with Athena. The three girls had been inseparable for quite some time, but Piper was well aware that she had always been the weak link of the trio. Ethan was a fun boyfriend, even if he got her favorite flowers wrong despite them being her middle name. He was popular and on the more lighthearted side of the Greens, and the two of them could totally have been seen as a power couple now if not for both of their reservations about being out and open about their relationship. Her Daddy wasn’t so crazy that he had Butler ensuring she remain completely celebate, but she knew for a fact that if she actually expanded her relationship with her boyfriend outside of school, went up to father and explicitly stated that she was dating someone instead of whatever report he got from Butler at the end of each day, then there was no way it would last. So, Piper settled, as she always does, and dated the boy that forgot she existed all day until he felt it was time to deign to reply.

How pathetic.

Of her.

Outside of all that, the chains of her home and the desperate connections of school and friends, there was one place and only one place where Piper is ever actually allowed to feel and be as alone as someone like her father would allow. As soon as he put the car in park, her hand was on the door handle and her heels were kicked off, and as soon as she heard the locks disengage the door had been flung open and she was off like a shot across the rough asphalt, feet and heart pounding as the midday air pressed in around her. Staring at her back from the still opened back door of the car, Butler sighed and got out slowly, walking around to close the door before following his charge at a much more sedate pace.

It was a good thing that her outfit for Red and Black day included pants instead of a skirt, because as soon as Piper reached the little hidden outcropping a ways past the first dune, she didn’t give a second thought to leaping towards the rough rocks and finding the footholds she’d only had to change use of a few times since she first found this place as a child. She could hear her photographers and makeup teams complaining already at the cover ups they’d have to do her now scraped up hands, knees, and feet, could just see the look from Celeste when the blonde saw the unsightly chips that were appearing in her nails. She didn’t care, she was almost there.

Butler had appeared below her when she’d gotten two thirds of the way up the cliff, clearing his throat to alert her of his presence but doing nothing more to break her concentration on her free climb. As she reached the peak, she threw both arms onto the flat surface and held herself there with a pleased grin, happy to do something for herself. The smile disappeared, however, when she noticed someone else sitting in her moping spot.

How rude.

Throwing a leg up over the ledge and pulling herself up all the way until she was steadily back on her two feet, Piper fruitlessly dusted dirt off of her now ripped clothes and stomped soundlessly over to the invader, uncaring for her current unkempt state. She put her hands on her hips and went to open her mouth and tear this person a new one until she took in the state he was in.

He was shirtless, for one, and absolutely ripped for another. He was also literally dripping wet and Piper was three seconds away from pulling a Peggy Carter from the first Captain America. She wanted to reach out and see just how hard those muscles were, and she found herself blinking rapidly at the very thought crossing her mind. In an effort to control herself, Piper took her hands from her hips and crossed her arms, cocking her hip out demandingly as she leaned up towards this boy- he’s a classmate, isn’t he? I’ve seen him in the halls- who still had his eyes closed, completely unaware of her presence.

If she were a nicer person, she’d let him continue meditating, but event days at school when she was expected to be there until the evening were the only times she had a chance at her few hours of freedom, and he was now in the way of that.

“What are you doing up here?”

“Kata.”

Adam opened up his green eyes with his simple response. He did not stop the flowing movements of his arms as he channelled himself into his choreographed routine. The Kata was a simple technique taught to even the earliest beginners in martial arts. The objective was simple, memorise the movement, always know your place, always be aware of your surroundings.

For Adam, the Kata was a way of almost regressing; transporting his spirit back over a decade to a time when the world wasn’t so dark. It was used to take him back to a time when he thought that his family loved him, cherished his smile and wanted to encourage his adventurous soul. For those brief minutes when he was a child again, Adam wasn’t locked in a basement, bloodied and bruised, he was on a sacred mat, learning and studying, becoming one with himself and every drop of life around him.

The fighter looked at his visitor; she was blocking the horizon so his gaze engulfed her. She didn’t come from behind him, he would’ve sensed it. The dirt on her hands and expensive outfit were obvious tell tale signs that she had climbed to the precipice where they now both stood. She was familiar, a classmate probably. He searched the shallows for a face or a name that could be put to her. Lyon. Piper. Not an Elite. She didn’t belong to the Hive. Yet she certainly wasn’t cast out amongst the dregs of society. She existed in the peripheral, basking in the glory and sunlight of those around her. The smile she wore around the school wasn’t even hers; she rented it from the Greenes. She didn’t deserve that.

“You’re staring.”

“And you’re in my spot,” She tossed back, flipping her hair over her shoulder for a bit of emphasis before crossing her arms once more, shamelessly watching the boy’s movements. She decidedly did not tap her foot, despite how much she wanted to, because despite her complaints she was actually enjoying the sight in front of her. Any other time, or place, maybe she would have appreciated him more. Maybe she wouldn’t have noticed him at all. Hell, she still couldn’t remember his name despite knowing he’s been through highschool with her. His lack of reaction to her presence, however, was a bit exhilarating. He’d stared her down with earthen green eyes and answered her question- which in her circle was more just another way of saying ‘you shouldn’t be here’- honestly without breaking stride, and she found her head turning to and fro as she followed his slow and meticulous motions. He hadn’t stuttered out an apology and scuttled off like people tended to do when Celeste is at the front of their trio, he hadn’t thrown a cheap shot at her like many nameless faces in the halls did when she was without her two blondes, and he hadn’t told her to fuck off. He’d just…continued, unbothered.

She was unused to this, and with no one around to tell her how to handle it…well, much of what she might have said to keep face in front of others was dead in the water here. Umber brown stared into forest green for a moment as she considered her next words, feeling off center without anyone around to perform for. This was why she had to be alone when she was up here. Piper huffed, more upset by her confusion than she was willing to let on, and blew a loose strand of hair out of her face. Knowing that her next words likely wouldn’t get him to leave, she allowed herself to slide quickly to the ground by way of dropping into a criss cross sit, arms still crossed and face turning towards the bright open sky over the horizon. At least she had two nice views instead of one this time.

“I don’t get to come here often, so like,” She waved her hand unenthusiastically toward the rest of the beach. She didn’t like having to act like Piper Lyon: Triple Crown and sister of Scott, here in her freedom spot. She didn’t want to be that, or Piper Lyon: Daddy’s Princess, or Rose Lyon: Bibi’s Little Model. She just wanted to be Piper here. “Can’t you kata somewhere that’s, like, not here?” She could hear the slightest scoff from below them and felt her face going bright red in irritation, knowing the man below was scoffing at her. Throwing her torso half over the ledge with little thought, hair fluttering in the wind, she yelled down, “Shut up, Butler! God, honestly, eat glass!”

“I could.” Adam responded as continued unphased as he watched the dark haired beauty lean dangerously over the edge to shout at her….Butler? Truly the world in which he now existed was fake; a Truman show like concoction by his drug addled mother to generate buzz for one of her wealthy and hedonistic celebrity clients, absolutely starved for attention. He was a star of a fake reality series, how could this be his real life? It was a mystery that he would surely never solve. Much like his parents themselves, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. “But I won’t.”

No one had ever accused Adam of being a talkative creature. He did not see the need to say more when less would do. That had very much been his mantra for all facets of his life; to drift or to crash as the tides demanded. Bruce Lee famously quoted “Be Water.” And so Adam took that to heart. There was a lot in his life that he did not agree with, a lot that he would not have chosen given the chance. Yet he had accepted them like a swell lapping onto the beach before him. Unbridled, uncontrollable, just nature taking course and humanity bowing to its whim.

Adam gazed at the girl entranced by his movements. He could see in her eyes the weight that she carried on her shoulders. To be pretty, to be popular, a burden so heavy that even a climb to the highest height where they now stood wasn’t enough to shed it. “You seem tense. You should try this, to ease up your mind.”

“I tend to find a more cooperative way to ease my tension,” Piper answered with an eye roll before she even thought out her words, still glaring down at Butler who made a point to stare up at her with a raised eyebrow at the comment. She stuck her tongue out at him and swiped some of the loose pebbles and sand off the edge, hoping it would hit him but knowing he’d easily avoid the falling debris. She pushed herself back up, not even bothering to dust the sand off the front of her shirt and stomach this time, and turned over so she could look at him once more. Was she dating Ethan? Yes. Had he ignored her all day and pissed her off? Also yes. Was she allowed to enjoy other bodies so long as she wasn’t actually cheating? Well, yeah, she thought so at least. She’d seen his eyes straying in the hallways plenty of times, how was this any different? She leaned back on her elbows and pulled one knee up, staring up at him with a heavy gaze. Her eyes went from his slowly drying hair, to his bright eyes- green like tall grass under a hot sun, waving in a field with the calm wind so that there’s hints of golden rays shining through- to his blank, focused face. She traced his strong jawline and plush looking lips, knowing that if she ever saw him in the halls again she wouldn’t simply glance over him like she’s been doing. She bit her lip as she watched his muscles shift beneath his skin through the controlled motions, rippling enticingly and just asking for her soft fingers to run over them.

It was then that she noticed the other parts of his torso though, and she was suddenly biting her lip for an entirely different reason. Silver scars of long healed wounds littered his skin, and there were several places where the injuries had obviously been worse and healed over as small bumps. At the lower part of his ribs, however, was a blatantly large hypertrophic scar that told of immense pain and healing. Not all of them were defensive, but Piper had seen similar areas be bruised or scraped before, the way daddy used to slap Scott around before he got big enough to fight back immediately came to mind, and she found her face twisting into a dark frown. Luckily, any abuse she suffered from daddy was purely verbal and emotional, where her big brother had to deal with all three types, so she doesn’t have any scars on her body that she didn’t earn herself from being young and running away all the time. In fact, Butler has more scars on his face, neck, and shoulder from throwing a younger her over his shoulder and taking her back from her rendezvous with her mother. She used to kick and scream and scratch like a wild animal, unwilling to return home to daddy and risk never seeing her mother again. Seeing those scars on Adam stirred something in her that she didn’t know still existed. It wasn’t pity, what was it? Something both her daddy and Celeste had told her to dispose of long ago until she’d finally complied.

Sympathy, empathy, compassion over a shared knowledge or situation.

“Fine, karate kid,” She stood up, huffing as though he had asked her to do an enormous chore. If he wanted to waste his time teaching someone like her something, the least she could do was try, and since he wasn’t responding to her in any other way except for this offer then accepting it seemed like the best course of action. She wouldn’t get to be alone, but she’d already given up on that idea already. “Show me what you’ve got. But just to be clear,” She stepped up closer to him again, getting in his face so he had no choice but to look at her. The way he just saw her freaked her out a bit, so something had to be said about that. “My mind is perfectly eased, and I have my own forms of discipline so it’s not like I’m completely oblivious to repetitive poses,” She looked to the side for a moment before gazing back at him and stepping back to mirror whatever pose he was in. “Mine are just for modeling, but they do, like, become muscle memory much like I’m sure this stuff does.”

“Yup.”

Adam didn’t say much more as he continued his motions, slowing himself down even more so that Piper could mimic and mirror him. The way she got in his face and personal space was both bold and probably a bit stupid. He imagined that her face, awashed with fearlessness, was something taken from her time on the periphery of the in crowd. She used the qualities of her friends to mask herself from his gaze but Adam always could see right through someone.

He had never raised his hand to anyone out of combat; except his father. Yet when someone invaded his space without warning, they would usually come to regret it. Adam was an aggressive fighter, even if his opponent tried to draw first blood, he always struck first. It wasn’t hard, timing was everything. Movement and motion were the key. Piper had moved into his orbit but despite even what she may think, she hadn’t done so aggressively. There was something else that she wanted from their interaction; something maybe even she wasn’t aware of.

Adam straightened his posture and watched her move. “Close your eyes.” He spoke aloud, phrasing less like a question and much more like instruction. He began to circle her, taking in her form. “Loosen your shoulders. Let your body move freely.” He had seen her eyes before, dancing over his skin, staring at the battle scars from countless fights and beatings. The fighter did not hide those marks in shame. He carried them proudly, they were his trophies. Remnants of violent bouts gone by, personal and professional they burned in the salt water like a volcano cracking the sea bed wide open. The sting reminded him that pain was to be used to learn, to understand one’s plateau so that they could move past them. Adam did not believe in limits; he believed in breaking them.

He stood behind her silently for a moment before gently touching her elbow. “May I?” He also believed in consent.

Piper almost ripped herself away when he touched her elbow, well in the habit of not just letting anyone touch her, but the connection had been so soft and he hadn’t grabbed her, just rested his hand beneath her elbow as it came down from its position. She froze completely for a mere moment before following his previous instructions and relaxing her shoulders, letting her elbow drop fully into his guiding hold. Closing her eyes, though, that was a vulnerability she wasn’t sure that she was ready for. Sure, Butler was right below and wouldn’t let anything happen to her, but closing her eyes and completely giving in to the guy that she barely knew? Not without explanation, no matter how hot he was. That was how blackmail started. Untrusting eyes met focused ones over her shoulder.

“You may,” She allowed, wariness coloring her tone in bright contrast to his easy confidence. She allowed him to begin fixing her stance as she asked, “But why close my eyes? What does that do?”

“Blocks out distractions.” Adam slowly positioned Piper’s arms in kata stance. Her dominant hand above her head and her other, lower towards her waist. “To truly be still and quiet, you can only find that within yourself.” He stationed himself behind her, guiding her flow subtly but firmly. “When you close your eyes, let the blackness of your mind wash over you. Listen for a sound that only you can hear, a wave crashing, a bird singing. Latch onto that sound and let it take your mind where it needs to go. Let it guide you to your center.” The martial artist did his utmost to not cross any personal boundaries, what was happening between them was intimate and could only be if built on trust. “An image will form in your mind, a picture only for you, use it. Use it to calm the fire or to stoke it. Only you know really what you want to do with it.”

Piper pouted doubtfully at the boy but tried to do as he said, closing her eyes as he spoke and following his gentle guidance as well as she could. She tried to find a sound to focus on behind darkened lids and her ears fell upon the slight rustling of bush leaves in a soft wind, that same type of bug that always chirped here throughout her childhood singing for its life. A picture started forming in her mind, just as he’d said. She always listened to those sounds just as much as the crashing waves, because they reminded her of the beaches and parks she’d meet her mom in and the hours they’d spend together. As she thought about it, about the good times with her mother, engulfed in the sounds that took her there, Piper actually smiled. It wasn’t the smile that she wore at school, it wasn’t her shield, or her mask, or her weapon, this smile was genuine in its response to the image formed in her mind’s eye. She hadn’t been able to see her mom’s face so clearly in her memory in years, not since daddy buckled down and cut them off completely from each other, no longer willing to entertain the attitude and disrespect that came with her every return to the house. Yet, something about blocking out her visual senses and leaning into another instead washed away some of the blur and fade set across her visage by time.

Unfortunately, those happy moments never lasted. The hours after her visits with her mother were always the worst, Butler dragging her away at the end of the time daddy allotted her little act of rebellion and tossing her into the back seat with the child lock on. He’d roll up the privacy window between the front and back of car as she screamed and cried in the backseat and he’d carry her up the steps to their stupid giant house and set her down in front of Gabriel Lyon who would do no more than look at her with distaste and send her to her room, her cell, for the night. Her last view of her mother had always been through tears, Piper’s own arms outstretched towards her as Butler hauled her off, her mother standing still but with hand outstretched back, never to reach her. No wonder her memory of her mom’s face sucked, her eyes were always full of tears during the times they had together.

Heat streaked down her cheeks only to turn cold at the next burst of wind, and Piper opened her eyes to find she’d begun to cry in real time. Her body had continued to follow Adam’s guiding motions while her mind had been completely lost, and Piper found her breath catching in her throat. She tore herself out of his gentle hold and turned to face him, backing up with her hands desperately clutching her elbows, held tightly in front of her midriff. She glared at the boy through glossy eyes, feeling stupid and not knowing why.

“What the hell was that?” She demanded, though her voice betrayed her by quaking. This was why she didn’t think about it. This was why she didn’t think. She contemplated her third xanax of the day, longing for the fog that shut out the noise and let her be led along by the hand by whoever had a hold of her chains at the time. Her freedom spot was feeling more oppressive by the second. “I thought this was supposed to be relaxing, not a walk down trauma lane.”

Adam had watched in silence as Piper’s mind dragged her spirit through memory. He had experienced the same as she had now, he still did. Not all memories were good, not all stillness was found in the positive. There were times where one had to fight and scratch and claw through all the pain and suffering to reach the quiet. Adam was no different than her. When he closed his eyes he did not see sunshine and rainbows; he saw a bullship and a black hat. He saw a business suit and a line of white powder. He saw a knee, twisted and ripped apart, cartilage, bone and blood hanging like the loose leaf of an autumn tree. And he saw his own reflection, smiling at the carnage that he had cause; the rage burning in his blood,

“I never said that it was easy.” Taking a small step forward, Adam placed his hands behind his back and interlocked his fingers. “Our brain takes us through the valleys we need to go, not the ones we want to.” He tilted his head to catch her gaze, his eyes earnest and apologetic but still firm. “I know it hurts, wherever you were but we are only defeated when we allow ourselves to be.”

Piper did not step back when the boy stepped forward, but it was a near thing. However, with his hands behind his back and his demeanor continuing to remain calm as ever, Piper couldn't even find it in herself to feel the threat that she knew the person in front of her had the strength to make. His words were firm but understanding, and he wasn't making fun of her for crying over something so stupid, in fact he basically assured her that her response was normal. She was completely unused to this type of interaction. It didn't seem like he wanted anything out of her, so she didn't know what she was supposed to be giving. She'd spent her whole life as anyone else's little posable doll, yet when he had her in his hold and was literally guiding her in poses, she didn't feel used at all. She didn't feel like he was looking at her like a doll to be played with, and even Scott and Katie didn't look at her with such little judgment or disgust. Who the hell was this guy?

“I never asked your name,” Piper finally spoke up as she managed to stop her tears, slowly stepping back towards him and taking a deep breath before returning to the stance she'd pulled away from. She had a stubborn purse to her lips and she wasn't as relaxed as she had been when he'd first started his guidance, but Piper had made her decision to keep going. To see how this played out, to not let herself be defeated by the valleys she was dragged through. With another deep, grounding breath, Piper closed her eyes without any prompting needed this time. “I’ve seen you in the halls, though, who are you?”

“Adam.”

The problem with a school like BHHS, there are a thousand and one faces in the hall. Classrooms filled with blank glares and empty stares. To know everyone, to truly know everyone, was a feat greater than climbing the highest of peaks. It was said that high school was where one took the first strides into finding who they are. They gravitate to cliques, they ascend or descend the social ladder in a dog eat dog world of who wears the best brand or who rides a skateboard and smokes a cigarette. Some walk the halls, surrounded by people but be completely alone; whilst some can walk alone and be completely comfortable with themselves. Over time the lines can blur or they can sharpen, either way, there was truly no way to know everyone because most didn’t even know themselves.

Adam spent much of his time flying under the radar by design. He got some attention for his looks, but beyond that, he was basically non-existent. He skated in the parking lot with the PLC, he surfed with the Strattons, he worked out with the Elite and he studied with the Overachievers. Adam believed in experiencing all facets of what lay around him, so he could educate and better himself. Yet there was a big part of him, probably the biggest part, which just wanted to kick and punch and claw, a part of him that had been utterly seduced by the glow of violence. Combat was his vice but even that had begun to lose its lustre as he had not been truly challenged in a long time. The boredom he felt was bordering on depression.

“I sit behind you in a few classes.”

“Oh,” she replied, genuinely surprised by that fact. It wasn't her fault that he was behind her for all of them. Butler stood at the back of the class, so of course she never wanted to turn around and see his ugly mug while she was trying to focus. Piper may only be good for modeling and looking pretty, but she did maintain good grades. When much of your time is spent locked up in your house or your room, studying becomes second nature. You've got to find something to do once all actual fun ideas peter off, and her good grades kept daddy happy so he was more likely to let her out whenever Celeste or Athena came calling. Still, though, it was a little embarrassing that he had that answer and she hadn't even known.

Brows furrowed over closed eyes as she tried to bring up any memory she could of him sitting behind her, and a frown overtook her face when she realized there was truly nothing. Aside from glances in the halls, Piper has no recollection of his face. How pathetic. Piper shook her head and tried to focus on actually going through the motions Adam had shown her, moving slowly and keeping her eyes shut, but she couldn't find herself back to the darkness and the valley like she had before.

“I'm Piper, but I feel like you already knew that.”

It wasn't meant to be cocky, it was just a basic fact that Piper was one of those few names and faces that most of the school knew. It came with being a Triple Crown, and with having a grown man follow you around the school. It's very hard not to learn anything about the brunette amongst blondes, followed by a burly bear. She pretended to love it just like she pretended not to hear all the whispers and hate that followed them.

“I did.”

Without a further word, Adam joined Piper in kata and pushed into a meditative state. With his own eyes closed, he tried to drift into his mind palace but something was blocking him, a face, her face. In her eyes he had seen something that he could only describe as a resemblance to himself. The girl didn’t have to say much at all, her silence was enough for him to know that they shared similarities. Both were prisoners of those that were meant to love and cherish them. Her perfume had replaced the scent of saltwater in his nostrils; it wasn’t an unpleasant smell.

“Make sure to breathe.” He stated clearly. “Breathe in and out, exhale your stresses and your negative feelings. Inhale the world around you, let it fill you up and embrace you like a lover. It cares for you. It nurtures. Welcome it and allow it to guide you.” Adam took himself out of stance to watch Piper again. She was gracious in her movement, even for a beginner. It was likely those modelling poses she mentioned earlier, they had given her a good core strength and a sense of balance. “You’re doing really good.”

It was not easy to concentrate after his words. She’d startled a bit at ‘embrace you like a lover’ falling so easily from Adam’s lips, and it had only turned into a blush when he’d told her she was doing well. That was a genuine compliment, a true observation instead of an attempt to inflate her ego for a picture or a date. She couldn’t remember the last time she heard a genuine compliment, and that made this one so much harder to accept. She wanted to snap back and call him a liar just because it was so unexpected to hear, she wanted to drop out of stance and cover the weakness that was her obvious blush, but that would break her concentration. Instead, she exhaled her stresses just as he’d directed, inhaled and held it before repeating. She slowly brought back the sound of rustling bush leaves, of chirping insects. She let her mind follow the noises through the dark behind her eyelids and came up once more at her mother’s face, and before she let herself focus on it completely, before she forgot what little manners she had, she let the soft breeze carry her quiet appreciation for the moments of tranquillity she didn’t know she could experience.

“Thank you, Adam,” She whispered as the tears started to overflow again, but this time she kept going, just like he said. She focused on her center.

“I’m not doing anything.” Adam smiled. This was a rarity for him. He was not known as a particularly serious person but nor was he known much as a happy person. Adam Omasta just existed and was what he was when he was it. Those that actually knew him had accepted this fact. He was difficult to read and gage, difficult to truly understand. “You’re doing all the work Piper.” Watching her reach something deep inside of herself that she obviously needed was not something he expected when he had opened his eyes mere minutes before and found her staring at him but the wind and tide had carried them there and for those brief moments, it was just the two of them on an island alone, exactly where they needed to be.

Turning away as quietly as he could, Adam reached into his nearby bag to grab a water bottle. After a small sample, he cleared his throat, not realising that like a pig, some of the clear liquid had dripped from his mouth onto his bare chest. “When you’re ready to leave, let out one big breath, let the last of that tension be swept away in the next swell and open your years. Stay here for as long as you want, this is your place.”

She followed his instructions dutifully, letting the pain of her memories with her mother ebb and flow, her tears turn from salty bitterness to bitter sweet and back again. The wind whispered past her and the waves crashed far below but up on the cliff, Piper was finally learning her meaning of peace. When she was ready, and only when she was ready, she let out a large and cleansing breath, shaky in the emotion that came with if, and opened her eyes to see that Adam had stopped already and was watching her. That was nothing new to her, honestly, as every time she modeled there was a whole room watching her and only her. She dropped out of the last stance and stared straight back at him until her eyes started following the line of water that trailed down his chest. She let out a small laugh and began wiping the stark tear tracks from her face.

“You're wet again, that's really distracting. You know that, right?”

“Then don’t be distracted.” Adam gently dried off his torso and also dabbed his neck from the sweat. He took a few steps forward towards the brunette and offered her one of his genuine smiles. “You know, if you think that all this is helping, I’m down here a lot in my free time. I’m happy to do some more work and spend some time with you. Get you to where you want to be.” He hadn’t offered anyone a place like this before. Most training partners Adam ever had left him because they couldn’t keep up or they couldn’t handle his physicality. He had never had a spiritual partner before, someone to explore philosophy and the mind with. “If you want to, of course.”

Piper thought about it, genuinely thought about it. She hadn't felt anything so strongly since she started abusing her prescriptions years ago, yet here was this boy who not only sent and saw her tossed back and forth by the rough waves of it, but weathered the swells and undertows with her just by being there. She thought of the calm he helped direct her to, one that not even her chemical assistants could bring her to.

“I'd like that,” she finally landed on, nervous but genuine. She was about to sat more when she heard an alarm tone from below the cliff, and she sighed dejectedly when she realized it was Butler's watch keeping them to her schedule. The waves of the real world crashed over her and she frantically pulled her cellphone out, opening it to a new contact And thrusting the device his way. “Shit, shit,” She only had a couple of minutes before Butler came up to drag her off, as per the usual routine since she always resisted. She could already hear him walking up the slope that she always ignored in favor of climbing. “Here, your number, quick.”

In the distance, gradually ascending the slope towards them, a man in a fine black suit and he was making Piper incredibly nervous. He was also forcing her to abandon the calm she had found in favour of the chaos she started with. Adam didn’t like that. He followed the man’s movement and was confident that he could destroy him easily. He would start at the ankle, the way Butler walked he had a pre-existing ligament tear. It wouldn’t take much pressure to rip the joint out of place. One swift kick could do it or a forced bad step in the wrong direction. For what it was worth, Adam rarely started a fight but he always ended it. He didn’t like the look in Piper’s eyes, it was fearful, almost childlike in its innocence.

Listening to his better angels, the martial artist took a hold of the girl's phone and typed in his number. He rarely used his phone, it only had a handful of contacts in and no social apps. Adam was old school and preferred to talk to people face to face, when he could be bothered to string the words together of course. “There.” The man was getting closer and closer and he could see the goosebumps on Piper's arms grow and her body quake. He smiled sweetly and softly towards her, giving her whatever reassurance he could muster in such a simple act. “I’m around.”

The smile Piper gave him was the smallest and fakest she'd given since coming up the cliff. Butler's stalwartly oppressive presence was now at her back as she received her phone from Adam's hold and shoved it back into her blazer pocket and looking into his eyes she was struck with a sudden thought.

He's not going to like the next part.

“Time to go,” Butler intoned, and she could practically feel the vibrations from his deep voice shake her core. Piper stayed stubbornly, trying to ignore Butler and continuing staring into serene green that now seemed alight in warning. “Celeste is going to be upset with you,” Piper bit her lip but continued to ignore the man, literally digging her bare heels into the coarse ground, and Butler growled, “Piper, stop being a child.”

Butler’s hand closed around her wrist like the ball and chain that he was, cuffing her and beginning the usual drag away from freedom that broke her spirit a little more each time. Her face twisted angrily at the vice like grip and she leaned back against the pull, slapping uselessly at his meaty wrists.

“I hate you!” She cried desperately, just like always. “I hate you I hate you I hate you!!!”

“Hate me all you want, you don't sign my paycheck.”

Adam could not abide this; not for a second. Like a flash, he found himself behind Butler and let loose a sharp pointed kick just above the older man’s ankle and deep into the calf muscle. His green eyes looked at the panicked ones of Piper and he simply put his finger to his lips. “Go.” Was all he said as he stood over the fallen man who had begun writing around in agony. Adam had made sure to not cause any major damage to the servant but he had done enough to give him a shock to his system. Kneeling down on the dusty cliffside, the fighter’s serene eyes widened with an almost feral intensity. For he was once a stream and now a raging tempest. “Touch her again and you won’t walk again.”

“You have no idea what you're doing, kid.” Butler responded, but didn’t move from his spot.

Piper stood frozen for moment as she stared at the easily downed form of the man that both protected and helped cage her for her whole life, but as Adam kneeled down to say something to Butler, she did as the amazing boy instructed and flew past them, down the walking path that she'd never taken before. Rocks tore at her bare feet and branches scratched at her arms and face but that was fine, she had spare clothes and makeup in her locker at school. She could get back there on foot in twenty minutes at a proper pace, and she'd be alone the entire time. An almost manic giggle fell from her lips and didn't stop as she hit the beach parking lot and tore past the car. She couldn't stop it, and she slowed her pace in order to be able to maintain the small amount of air she did manage to drag into her lungs. She could text Adam a thank you later, but right now she was laughing and smiling, red faced and probably looking a little crazy, because she just came to one very important realization about what had just transpired.

Damn the consequences, someone finally fought for me.