[color=lightgray][right][sub]TIMESTAMP: Start of the Game
Introducing: [color=EDBAB9]Celeste Green[/color][/sub][/right]
[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240602/b3e28a519471d6e2f3713081ce55bbf1.png[/img]
[b]____________________________________________________________________
[color=black]____________________________________________________________________[/color][/b]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/JhQeunw.png[/img]
[b]____________________________________________________________________
[color=black]____________________________________________________________________[/color][/b]
[sub][@Festive] & [@LovelyComplex][/sub][/center]
[indent][indent][center][color=#edbab9][i]My name is Celeste Green and I am the Queen of Beverly Hills and the Princess that is destined to take over the Green Company because I’m the best option there is. 
A lot of nobodies talk smack about how my world, and school, is exclusive and there is a clear class system.  [/i]

[i]Guess what, losers! [/i]

[i][b]LIFE [/b]is a class system. [/i]

[i]If you can’t handle it, you’re not fit to be standing next to me. Periodt. Now move along and play pretend. You’ll never know how it feels to be amazing and true royalty like me. It’s like mommy always says, if you want something done right, pay someone to do it for you. Money is no object to me. I understand it better than anyone. I am gross-rich, pretty, and better than you. That’s all that matters and you can’t really challenge me if you don’t put your money where your mouth is. And you know what? I always get what I want. [/i]

[i]Welcome to my world, bitches, you’re lucky to even step foot on it. [/i][/color][/center]
With her legs crossed, her lithe form upright, and her electric orange eyes covered by her Balmain sunglasses, Celeste sat rather impatiently on a towel that her [url=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/af/53/1d/af531d62284aeedec988304f112591a7.jpg]Butler[/url] laid out for her, on the bleachers in her own reserved section. Her peers knew better than to sit right next to her. It was common courtesy to keep all seats around her open so that a square was created around her and no one’s obnoxious breathing would get on her nerves. Plus, the seats right next to her were reserved for her best friends. This wasn’t the first time the only child of Cyndi and Justin Green did this and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Celeste’s entire existence commanded her wants and needs and most people either obeyed or got out of her face, not wanting to deal with her. She’d take either option so long as the end result made her happy. Her happiness mattered above everything else. 

Butler stood at the end of the bleachers, keeping an eye on his charge from a distance since he knew at events like this Celeste needed her space. She hated feeling claustrophobic and she didn’t like people that she saw as dog poop sitting right next to her. She had standards, okay? And most of this school didn’t reach them. It was so hard to find anyone worth her time anymore. But that’s okay. Celeste didn’t need many people in her life. As long as she had Piper and Athena, Celeste was happy. They were all she needed. 

And yet they weren’t here. Happiness was fleeting and she could feel irritation festering inside of her. What was taking them so long? She had been waiting for five minutes and she was already ready to leave. The only reason why she came to this dreadful game is because Athena wanted to but if she had it her way she would’ve done some retail therapy, because she deserved it, and ended her night with a nice bath, while watching rom-com movies. She couldn’t believe she came to this game because her friend asked. Why was she such a good person? 

Looking around, still not seeing the two girls that meant the world to her, especially annoyed that Piper kept her waiting, Celeste changed positions. Uncrossing her legs and pressing her knees together, she patted down her skirt, making sure she was presentable and lady-like. Her mom didn’t raise a slob. Her heels didn’t touch the ground. Instead her toes connected to the floor. She moved them up and down, causing her legs to join the casual and leisure motion. It was something Celeste did absentmindedly when she didn’t know how to keep herself busy. 

Nothing was of interest to her so she decided to focus on daydreaming. Her mind went from LA to Fiji. She closed her eyes and imagined herself sunbathing, drinking fresh sugarcane juice and listening to the waves of the ocean, the surrounding nature, and her own breathing. God, she wished she was there today.  Why did she have to go to school and waste her life away surrounded by idiots? Life was rough for someone who knew what she deserved. It was okay though. Celeste Green was a survivor and would carry on. The world needed her too much for her to give up on her studies but that was neither here nor there. Fiji. All she wanted to think about was Fiji. That was where she was as she waited for her soul sisters. Beautiful Fiji. 

Although, why seek the waves of the Pacific when the Mediterranean would treat you much, much better? Among the sea of scarlet and noir coated commoners he was forced to share the same oxygen with, Álvaro looked down at his watch once again hoping that the tiny metal hands within the intricate timepiece would be in a drastically different place than they were the past ten times he had checked it. To his avail, the only hand that seemed to work in the entirety of the piece was the seconds hand, which was too slow for his liking. He didn’t quite understand the concept of American football, despite the time he had spent in the States, and his friends' numerous explanations to him it was simply a bastardization of Rugby that stole the name of a better sport where you actually have to use your feet the majority of the time. And the only reason he was even cooped up in the bleachers with the boys was that he had an obligation to support his fellow members of the Elite, so that meant sitting through every dreadful second of this game.

The dullness of the game before Álvaro wasn’t the only factor of his inescapable miasma of boredom. The conversation among the boys beside him was centered around the sport at hand; a foreign cacophony of voices detailing a topic that held no interest nor use to the man, which grated away at his already short patience as he had to fain interest at times. His ears were filled with the frivolity of those lesser than himself from all angles, his foot tapped repeatedly concrete below, his mind lamenting the fact that gone were his days of using Naomi’s name as a “Get Out Of Jail Free” card to sit away from the boys or even skip the game in its entirety. His newfound bachelor life sure had its perks although the downsides reared their heads like a pack of hyenas, but his father taught him how to hunt for a fucking reason.

There wasn't much he couldn't see from the little slice of hell he occupied upon this fortress of concrete and metal. His eyes scoured the waves of students searching for something or someone who would be more worthy of his time. The poverty-stricken majority neighboring Álvaro and the rows beyond cursed his brown-eyed view, and his time would not be wasted on a charity case. His eyes finally fell upon the blond-haired girl that sat a few rows away from himself, like Moses she parted the red sea but not with the power of God but by the power of her own status. The cousin of his dear friend Ethan Green, Celeste Green wasn't unfamiliar to Álvaro’s purview. He had learned about the girl from the Greens he knew, and even interacted with her in the past, although she had never caught his attention until today. Observation is one of the most valuable skills to a hunter; you have to watch your prey, every move they make, and every breath they take has to be accounted for. As if he was scoping at a buck down range, Álvaro watched. She was away from the pack of three that usually accompanied her, separated from the general populace, and her formal stance faltered into one of less obvious impatience.

When the boys were too busy focusing on whatever they were doing, Álvaro snuck away from the group. He maneuvered through the sea of rowdy voices and school pride to Celeste’s own bubble of claimed regality. From the sidelines, he could see her idiosyncrasies more clearly than from afar. Her legs moved together in a rhythmic pattern, a possible distraction from the drag of the game and her isolation. There was no time better than now to strike; in the world of human psychology his rifle was his words, and he was a goddamn marksman. Álvaro inched his way closer to the edge of her bubble, he couldn't invade the sanctity of her space with her permission, lest her bodyguard disguised as a butler come manhandle him. [color=#ab0042]“Hey, Celeste, any room for company?”[/color] Álvaro shot a warm smile across the gap to her, tilting his head slightly in the process. At this point, he was passing himself between so-called “queens” like a royal whore.

[color=#edbab9]“No Naomi to [i]stroke[/i] your ego? Or my idiot cousin to rub chests with? Or whatever you sweaty boys do,” [/color]Celeste dully asked, uninterested as ever. Truth be told, the Green who was the least informed about her classmates unless it was disclosed to her by her best friends was the princess basking in the sun, in front of the royal highness himself. She didn’t need to keep tabs on the nobodies of the Hills. She wasn’t Trixie or Jamie, who loved to stick their noses in everybody’s business, nor was everybody worth her time. If they were, she would know of them. She wasn’t Naomi and her bitchboy cousin, Levi, that pretended to care nor was she her cowardly cousin, Diana, who had her own reign over a make believe Candyland, choosing to force ‘love’ down other’s throats. 

[color=#edbab9][i]Gag me with a chainsaw, please.[/i][/color]

Álvaro was one of the few people she did know plenty about because Ethan did not shut up about his boys and it was hard not to notice someone of Álvaro’s stature. He carried himself pompous, vainglorious, and cocksure, like most of the Elite did. They were disgusting and she would compare them to peacocks. Very unlike her other cousin, Andy, who lived in the shadow of his twin. He was more an ant, which was quite tragic for a Green. She supposed if she had to choose, her preference would lean toward peacocks over ants. Ants were easy to crush. Peacocks were pretty to look at. Some people were born to shine and others were born to be part of the backdrop. Álvaro clearly chose to be the sun since he was blocking it with his vexing, yet eye-catching smile. 

Looking over her sunglasses, peering up at the prince-of-nothing-to-her, Celeste snapped her gum. She had been chewing it quietly, thinking of her dream escape, when he decided to rain on her parade. He might have descended from the old world of kings and peasants, but here, at this school, having a legacy was one thing but being able to put your money where your mouth is was an entirely different thing. All that mattered here was he was handsome, he had money, and he knew how to navigate the social scene, beyond that? She could care less. Rather than wait for a response, she simply pointed to the outskirts of her beach towel, two spots reserved next to her for Piper and Athena. [color=#edbab9]“There and not an inch closer.” [/color]

[color=#ab0042]“Thank you, thank you.”[/color] Álvaro shifted himself into Celeste's perimeter of purity, savoring for a moment the disconnect from himself and the lesser of the school’s ecosystem. Some say the first move a person makes is the hardest, but to Álvaro the whole process couldn’t be easier. Humans are predictable, every single one chalked full of their own uniquely eccentric mannerisms no matter how subtle or suppressed they may be. [color=#ab0042]“To answer your first question, we both just outgrew each other.” [/color]Álvaro didn’t hang on the topic for too long, he could tell Celeste wasn’t the one to fain fake emotions to for sympathy. The indifference of her voice cut the air loud and clear, he was going to love to make her crack. The wall she erected around herself had already been breached, it was only a matter of time until he plundered his way to her heart. 

[color=#ab0042]“And I really couldn't tell you where Ethan is.” [/color]Unlike the other Greens Álvaro has fraternized with, Celeste seemed to stay solely within her own world. And from what he’s seen, sticking to the same two friends who were thankfully, but curiously absent. [color=#ab0042]“Besides that, this game is utterly insufferable. It’s an undignified mess of people jumping on top of each other. If it weren’t for Theo and Benji, I would’ve never even came.” [/color]His eyes stayed locked on what he believed to be hers beneath the tinted glass of her sunglasses, he made his words flow through the air like a dove as soft as silk. Álvaro intensified the cadence of his accent ever so slightly to catch the attention of the small blonde to his side. [color=#ab0042]“Truly a waste, Santa Monica Beach is always beautiful, the light from the pier, the sky, the water; everything. My father owns an island down the coast of Barcelona, it’s almost a replica; minus the pier of course. Honestly, they both remind me of you in a way.”[/color]

Celeste raised an eyebrow at his last comment. He was comparing her to a great escape. A tropical paradise. The [i]beach[/i]. Cute. Such smooth words didn’t impress her. He needed to do better than that. Ignoring his mentions of his private island, not feeling the need to go on about her family’s assets, the pompous, petite and pretty blonde was certain he was in the same vein as her. The only difference was he had a title. Even so none of that mattered to her. That didn’t make him special. It was adorable that he thought it did. That just made him worthy enough to breathe the same air as her. 

Choosing to disregard his clear attempts to make a move on her, brushing it away like she did when a waiter dared to serve her asparagus, Celeste acknowledged and agreed on his sentiments on the sport at hand, [color=#edbab9]“Tell me about it. My father, Justin Quentin, or well Green since he took my mother’s name,”[/color] Celeste casually disclosed, pausing for a moment to relax her shoulders. Enjoying the temporary distraction as she waited for her friends, she snapped her gum once more and mused, [color=#edbab9]“When he was in his prime, he was the best Quarterback the LA Rams ever had. Now he coaches at USC. It’s always been boring to me, though. No matter how much he wants me to love it, I just see idiot boys rough housing. American football in itself is focused way more on entertainment than the actual sporting contest. I hate the superbowl because of him…”[/color] She sighed to herself, taking a moment to glance over at her acquaintance as she reminisced over all the times her dad threw the biggest extravaganzas over a stupid game, [color=#edbab9]“There is much more skill needed in Tennis, which is my preferred sport.” [/color]

For once, Celeste wasn’t being a merciless cunt. That was how people perceived her to be. She was being welcoming and reasonable, actually more informed in sports than most of her peers would realize. Her mother was a retired ballerina and her father was a retired football player; it came with the territory. She was a mythic bitch, don’t get her wrong, but she had no reason to grow defensive and fight her cousin’s friend. It wasn’t like Álvaro would get much out of this interaction. They were simply making idle chatter to kill time until her best friends appeared. Plus, he respected her boundaries and as a reward, she would give him some of her time. 

Odd, Celeste was odd. Such sultry words spoken from a mouth as regal as his ought to be regarded with more than a simple perceptive gesture. There was vastitude of women meandering the halls of their school B.H.H.S. who would do anything to even receive a shred of Álvaro’s attention, to have it outright ignored was new, certainly unpleasant, but new. If she wanted to play hard to get, he was up to the challenge; they always capitulated in the end. [color=#ab0042]“I would much rather watch a Tennis match than this any day. This is just… horrid. My mother taught me how to play a long time ago, I actually used to play for my little Spanish prep school before coming here. Ultimately, the real football was my calling.” [/color]Years of it having been forced unto him, Álvaro kept his posture straight. His hands lay idly within the pockets of the jacket he wore, in his peripheral view noticed the slight dip of her shoulders; a lowering of her guard, a growing comfortability. The cracks in her wall were growing, it was only a matter of time before they fell, crumbled into gravel at his feet. This comfortability came with news, a familial connection to the sporting industry, perhaps she will be more useful than a tool to upend his unending boredom after all, at least he wouldn't be challenged for only a few moments of fleeting entertainment[color=#f3f3f3]. [/color][color=#ab0042]“It’s been more than a few years since I've played though, so I am destined to be out of practice.” [/color]A light laugh escaped Álvaro's lips in a pause between his speech. The little lies he spread only worked to benefit the teller, himself; there was no escape of the sport for the grandson of a former Olympian; especially for one who was still in good shape. [color=#ab0042]“How about you, do you play?” [/color]

Álvaro had to pivot, his prior talk of wealth and status swayed the small girl less than a windless day swayed a wind chime. Álvaro looked solely for the sweet symphony of success, and his previous chatter led him nowhere but to lose the time he valued more than money itself. Álvaro swept his hand through his hair as he looked away from the blonde beside him for a moment. The scene of red and blue clashing in the vastness of the field was probably the only thing enjoyable about the game, a fleeting thrill of excitement that made the crowd go wild for some incoherent reason Álvaro didn't pick up on.

[color=#edbab9]“I do, yes,” [/color]Celeste curtly answered, glancing past him to see if there were any familiar faces walking through the crowd and to the bleachers. Two girls, a blonde and brunette, searching for her. Alas, they were nowhere to be seen. How dreadful. [color=#edbab9]“But you don’t care about that, now do you?” [/color]Taking off her sunglasses, the proud, classy and elegant Green revealed her striking, electric orange eyes and firmly grabbed his attention, with a commanding glare. Out of all the Elite boys, she knew Álvaro wasn’t an idiot, especially if he dated someone like Naomi Davis. He was educated and without a doubt, more informed than his ‘brothers’. There was no way he did not know that she was on the tennis team and that because of her, their school team was the G.O.A.T. 

If it wasn’t for her parents being completely and utterly selfish, Celeste could’ve gone to a Tennis Academy but instead they bought a private coach and allowed her to join tournaments so long as it didn’t interfere with her ‘teen’ experience. She could’ve gone pro if it wasn’t for her parents being so absentminded, only caring about their own pursuits: ballet and American football. The Crown Jewel didn’t expect him to know any of that but she did expect him to know something as common as who was doing what sports in this school. She knew he was in the soccer team, or the ‘real football’ as he called it, she wasn’t that oblivious, but clearly she wasn’t interesting enough for him to know that she was in the tennis club, or there was another avenue. He was playing dumb to get her to react. 

Either way, she wasn’t a fan of someone playing pretend. Silky, smooth words were nice when they weren’t so shallow. She would know; she was full of empty words. [color=#edbab9]“What do you want? Aside from avoiding the general populace, why are you talking to me?” [/color]Mockingly, she leaned backward and dramatically pouted like she was some innocent, little lamb, [color=#edbab9]“Is it because I’m not with my girls and you thought I could be your rebound? Or is it because you’re so lonely and desperate that you resorted to going to Ethan’s cousin for company?”[/color]

[i][color=#ab0042]Christ, almighty. What. The. Fuck. [/color][/i][color=#f3f3f3]Nobody was impossible to read, [/color]Álvaro held this true; even he begrudgingly acknowledged to himself that this applied to him as well. Álvaro kept it to a minimum, he buried his ques, managed his body language, censored his speech–he knew damn well that this woman, who didn’t even reach the height of his shoulders, was not reading him like a goddamn picture book; Celeste was either extremely lucky or a fucking telepath. Although he held the thought in the forefront of his mind it did not impede the rampant increase of his heart rate as the words were flung out of her mouth with the ferocity of a volatile hail storm. Álvaro’s heart beat out of his chest with a new invigoration. It had been a long while since Álvaro had felt the feeling of anxiety from some person other than his own father. His interest in the small blonde so obviously faking it beside him grew more in the small, fleeting moment, than it did throughout the rest of their conversation. But the problem at hand grew more precarious the longer he allowed it to simmer, Álvaro had been in more stressful situations than the one at hand. He was going to be the pied piper, leading her away with his orchestra of lies wherein only he was the wiser.

[color=#ab0042]“Celeste, if I was ‘desperate and lonely’ or wanted a ‘rebound’ don’t you think I would’ve sat with any of the several other women who accost me on a daily basis? I am here, sitting with you, to get to know you better, this has nothing to do with anything else.” [/color]Álvaro’s tone remained calm, his voice never rising; the man was master at holding his composure, a stark contrast to the battlefield within his chest. His eyes fell back onto her now uncovered face, her eyes were a much better sight to look at than chaos on the field, although, it seemed the same energy had pervaded her bubble. His hands sat at his side now, body almost twisted completely to face Celeste with his full and utter glory. [color=#ab0042]“And, yeah, I am sorry. I know you are on the tennis team, I’m not dumb; admittedly it wasn’t the best question to ask at all. You play amazingly. I am just trying to learn you, Celeste Green, and the best way to do that is to get you talking about yourself.” [/color]He couldn’t believe he would be as absentminded as he was when he asked her if she played, of course she fucking played, he knew this. It is in times like these where Álvaro truly thanked his father for how he has taught him; pressure makes diamonds and he shone the brightest of them all. 

Diamonds were hard, but not unbreakable, and Álvaro chose the wrong person to try to understand. As he talked, Celeste didn’t hide her disgust, even adding emphasis on her eye roll so he knew exactly how she was feeling. Regardless if she was right or wrong with her blind accusations, there was a clear reaction. Hooking her glasses on her Hermès purse, his words falling on deaf ears, Celeste blew a small bubble with her gum. Sucking it in, she snapped it loudly. Chewing slowly, ever so slowly, she glowered at the pretty boy. She wasn’t buying any of his crap, not for one second. [color=#edbab9]“Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast?” [/color]

The princess was not backing down. His voice may be modulated, like gentle waves, but the words coming out of his mouth were [i]not[/i] worth Celeste’s time. [color=#edbab9]“I’m so glad I’m finally on your radar, as if you couldn’t have gotten to know me while you were in a relationship, or just in class. You can go to hell, Álvaro. I am NOT a second choice. I am NOT a second thought. I am NOT second ANYTHING! I am Celeste-fucking-Green and until you understand that, you can leave me alone.” [/color]She shooed him away with her hands, categorizing him in the ‘ick’ section of her brain. Looks were not what Celeste was after in a friendship or relationship and it seemed like his majesty thought that could be what carries him through this interaction. Hilarious. Laughable really. 

[color=#edbab9]“Now, my friends should be here soon and I’m getting awfully bored with this.” [/color]She gestured to him, her and the space between them.[color=#edbab9] “You can leave now.” [/color]Celeste not so kindly demanded. To add extra measure, to protect her space, the blonde terror looked over her shoulder, smiled and waved at her Butler. Her Butler returned the smile with a smirk, enjoying the show, and nodded at his charge, understanding her instructions without her having to say a word. Ignoring Álvaro, Celeste rummaged through her purse to pull out her phone. Once her text thread was open with her two best friends, she started spamming them. Snap went her gum. How dare he act like he knew nothing about her. 

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object; an impossibility, a paradox. Álvaro was the one who could not be stopped, enveloped in his never ending crusade for anything he wanted; Celeste was now one of the objectives of this battle. He didn't mind being hated, or disliked, or whatever Celeste thought of him in that moment as long as he was in her head. The conclusion may have not gone as he intended but he achieved his goal one way or another. And despite his efforts, the blind rage ever so reminiscent of a Chihuahua continued to spew forth, serving as Álvaro's que for a strategic retreat. [color=#ab0042]“I’d gladly go to hell if you're there with me.”[/color] Álvaro stood up from the bleacher, until her eyes as beautiful as citrines gems viewed only his own he wouldn't relent. [color=#ab0042]“But, you are right, I ought to make my exit. It was fun while it lasted.”[/color] If Celeste foolishly believed she had warded off the likes of Álvaro, she had another thing coming. He [B]never[/B] accepted defeat, he [B]never[/B] surrendered, and he [B]never[/B] gave up. It was only a matter of time before he owned the rights to her heart alone, and there was [B]nothing[/B] she could do to stop the impending storm about to rock her world.

[color=#edbab9]“Toodles,”[/color] Celeste dismissed her unwanted companion, looking appalled at his audacity. The nerve of some people. He would take her to hell? [i]Please[/i]. She was hell. The next time he came up to her, she wouldn’t be as nice. Álvaro had no idea who he was dealing with and she was adamant to never back down.  

How dare he.
[/indent][/indent][/color]