[IC] CANCELLED.

[Melissa]

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_{Location: BHHS Parking Lot ---> BHHS Hallway ---> Mrs. Winship's Class
Mentions: Trev @Silent Observer}

---

Savannah stuck out like a sore thumb as she pulled her bright red pickup truck into the BHHS parking lot. It looked shoddy and old in comparison to the Lamborghinis, Maseratis, and Ferraris she had parked alongside, but to her, Ol’ Red was a piece of home. Everyone and their mother had a truck back in Hico, and it wasn't any different for the redhead, spending the majority of her life behind the wheel of a pick-up. The first car that Sav drove was was a beat up '77 Chevy C/K belonging to her grandmother. The day she first learned to drive the two spent nearly an entire afternoon doing doughnuts in the middle of a field in order to ensure the wide-eyed girl at the steering wheel wouldn't hit anyone.

When Sav moved to Beverly Hills, she wanted to make the 20-hour drive in her pickup, but her father Jackson absolutely refused, stating he'd rather buy her a truck when she got there than have her complete the drive on her own. And so, she obliged, going to the dealership the day after she flew up in order to pick up a new car child. However, none of the options suited her, as all the bells and whistles seemed excessive. Jackson then found the perfect solution: a friend of his was selling his aged pickup truck in order to upgrade to something nicer, and thus Ol' Red was born.

A little sliver of Texas was exactly what Sav needed right now to calm her nerves. Today was the first day back at BHHS after the winter recess and the Elite’s New Years Party, and she did not know what to expect in the slightest. The event itself was a whirlwind. It was a night filled with liquor, dancing, and unexpected conversations. For the first time, Sav had gained the courage to talk to her crush, Trevor, and even though it may have been prompted by a drunk comment from his brother, it was magical. Hearing him actually say her name gave Sav butterflies just thinking about it. But what if it was only dumb luck? A right place, right time sort of meeting?

Grabbing her backpack from the front seat of her car and slamming the door behind her, Sav began walking slowly towards the front entrance of the school. She had a ton to do today; get started on this week’s edition of the school newspaper, turn in her winter reading report, and try not to faint when she inevitably saw Trevor in homeroom.

Savvy opened the door to the school and was greeted by loud chatter from her peers who were reminiscing about their vacations. This person went to Cabo, that person flew to Paris; it all seemed too extravagant and unnecessary, but that was Sav’s opinion and not something she openly shared with her peers. Sure, she dressed the part, wearing all of the designer brands and making sure she didn’t put on anything from too many seasons ago, but it felt forced and unnatural to try and fit in with everyone else in this high-class town. Which was why she sought out an old truck, wanting to hold her roots close and not let go.

The redhead continued dodging her way through the hall until she made it to her locker. Turning the lock quickly and precisely, it popped open, revealing the contents of her own personal space in this large school. She switched out some textbooks and stuffed them into her knapsack, grabbing her journal and favorite pen last in order to keep them on hand. Before Savvy turned around and made her way to homeroom, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror on the locker door. She fussed with her hair, fixed her makeup, and tried to mimic how she’d react when she saw Trevor in homeroom. “_{Hi Trevor! How was your break?” “Hi, Trevor, it was great seeing you last weekend.” “Hey Trevor, I’m writing an article about tryouts, can I interview you?}” Savvy let out a deep sigh and slammed her locker frustratedly. None of the things she tried seemed to be the reaction she was going for, which caused her brow to furrow and her expression to turn dull and concerned. Nonetheless, she gathered herself and began to walk towards Winship's class, picking up her stride in order to make it before the bell rang.

Arriving in the room precisely as the ringing commenced, droning out any potential conversations and greetings, Sav walked directly towards the back of the room, sitting down at a desk next to the window. Opening up her journal and beginning to write in swirly penmanship the basis of her next article, she tuned out the rest of the room, attempting to get some work done.

[Hey Im Jordan]

_{Location: Hailey’s Room
Featuring: Hailey Green and Butler}

---

---

Hailey didn’t much care about school anymore. Not the work part anyway; it came easily to her, and her biggest secret was that she was already done with her credits. Hailey Green showed up to school as a courtesy to her friends. Besides, completed courses looked better on a college application. Hailey Green did care, quite a bit actually, about the social intricacies of the school.

That was where the fun was, and that was where Hailey happily played her game. It was a game in which every student, willingly or unwillingly was a participant. She liked it that way; it was often her out playing many people at once, sometimes her own friends. Sometimes, she liked to muse about this, particularly the most recent move she’d made.

That move, of course, was the forcible separation of Beatrix Kingsley and Owen Lyon. It had hurt them both far more than she’d anticipated, and Beatrix was still struggling to get completely over it. Honestly, it had been nearly three months ago. Despite this, Hailey had long accepted the fact that the problem most likely was with her — she had just opted not to care.

Hailey had a problem, one that was really a chemical imbalance in her brain, perhaps caused by the innate stress given to her by her last name. Perhaps it was driven by something else, but Hailey was a control freak, and a perfectionist, to levels and points that she knew it harmed her relationships and the people around her. Even Trixie being as upset as she was stung Hailey dearly. Hailey knew she had hurt her beloved cousin, but she found herself so obsessed with her own grandiose idea of a perfect world, that she put Trixie’s feelings on the backburner.

Hailey was a Green, and Greens did not allow regret to plague their lives. She could find a way to handle Trixie’s apparent depression, but she would do so when she had an idea. For now, Hailey already had a different plan and a course of action that was well underway that required her focus. She had already dealt with the Elite; as far as she was concerned the nuisances had been forcibly ejected from the playing field, and it was back the way she liked it. No more people stepping up to try and eliminate her carefully curated social ladder.

She had one person to thank for that: the author of the Weekend Warrior. And thank them Hailey had, leaving a donation of $4500 on the website, with an attached phone number (a burner phone of her Butler’s). If she had her way, the proprietor of the Weekend Warrior would be on her payroll before the next, well, weekend. Hailey, however, was confident there wouldn’t be any wars this weekend.

There were no soldiers left.

That, however, had been a Sunday venture! It was Monday now, and she was dressed for school. It was 6:55 in the morning, and Hailey was enjoying one of her rare moments of relaxation. She was resting on the massive beanbag she kept in her room. Hanging out of her mouth was a half-burned blunt (strawberry wrap), and resting on her chest was Hana Song, her beloved puppy.

On her ears was a pair of Sennheiser Orpheus HE90s (serial number 02), playing her music. The headphones made it feel like she was in the studio with the artist, and it was quite frankly an unexplainable joy that washed over her when she was able to relax and listen to music through the headphones. It made her feel like a kid, and she temporarily forgot about her game.

I’m Wolf, Tyler put this fuckin’ knife in my hand

Hana on her chest, snoozing lightly while her owner scratched behind her ears, and the carefully rolled drug in her mouth only made things better. It helped that she was resting on her bean bag, which basically felt like a cloud. In her opinion, everyone should own one of them, whether old, young, rich, or poor. In her perfect reality, everyone would.

I’m Wolf, Ace gon’ put that fuckin’ hole in my head

Hailey closed her eyes and honestly skirted on the edge of sleep for the fleetest of seconds, before the door opened and Hana jumped up, rousing Hailey instantly. She opened her eyes and saw Butler standing there. Hailey held up a finger before she moved to take the headphones off.

And I’m Wolf, that was me who shoved a cock in your bitch

Hailey removed the headphones, and smiled at Butler, kissing Hana Song before pushing her away and sitting up. “Yes, Butler?” After she spoke, Butler made a mental note that she was in a good mood, and he focused on keeping things short enough to keep it that way.

“I made contact. She wants a meeting.”

“Our weekend friend? Did you get a name? Ah, I suppose not. Stupid question. A meeting? That’s fine, call her back — I assume you have a call back number? Of course you do, you’re my Butler. The best. Call her back, and arrange a brunch. Wednesday morning will suffice. Call ahead to the Blue Lantern, make sure it’s empty for an hour. I don’t want any distractions or any interruptions.” Hailey stood up and stretched her hands high above her head. It was one of ‘those’ days for her. Rather than be dressed in an expensive dress, with pearls around her neck, and a designer bag on her arm, Hailey was instead dressed in a flavor undeniably inspired by her father.

A dark grey hoodie with the Turtle School logo stamped on the back (not too large, she didn’t want to look like a degenerate), underneath that was a piece of old school AWE merch, celebrating the Deathadder, who Hailey’s dog was named after. She wore a hat on her head that had a reference to a classic esports team (RD, Jericho Snyder’s team), and had on tight jeans and sneakers that cost more than most houses.

“How do I look?”

“It’d be nearly impossible for you to look bad. I think you pull off the ‘street wear’ work very well, and I think it’ll be a good reminder that you have a wardrobe that reaches outside of ‘rich woman.’ I can’t see anyone complaining about what you wear — not that it would matter much anyway. Brunch will be arranged.”

“Good answer. Let’s go to school, shall we?” Hailey blew Hana Song a kiss, and led her Butler out the door and toward the garage.

[smarty0114]

Location: Home -> Homeroom
Interacting with: | Wyatt |

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---

Quincy Hart hated school a lot less now that she was a Burner. Sure, it still sucked, but since she’d stopped following around the It Girls like the fluffed up poodle that was Selena Sterling, she’d found that she had much more time to sleep. Her morning routine was getting out of bed, slipping into whatever she could find that wasn’t dirty, and leaving. She had no need to be up at 5:30 to do her hair, because no one cared. She could walk in to school completely naked, and chances are the only one who would bat an eye would be A Double.

Speaking of…

Quincy had woken up the morning after the party, the taste of her own breath and McDonalds mixing together on her tongue, and one of A Double’s band tees covering her body. She was shook to say the least. Because surely, if you wake up in a boy’s clothes, you had sex with him? Q couldn’t quite recall, but as she later found out over waffles, they had not slept together. The only thing that had happened that night was a decent amount of making out, and that was it. And for that, Q was thankful.

That morning, after Wyatt had disappeared into Dreamland for a nap, Q and A Double had snuck off and discussed...well not much. Q had been firm that she didn’t know what was going on, but she’d think about it. And until further notice, whatever they were, was a secret. Quincy knew damn well that once it got out that her and A Double were a thing, it would change. She just wanted to exist, for a moment, in a pure moment of romance. Was that too much to ask?

Since that morning, Quincy had been keeping her distance, trying to work things out. Relationships were scary, commitment was scary, and falling in love? Terrifying. Yet, Quincy Hart was seated on this Monday morning, looking into her vanity, contemplating all three. What have I done?

Once she was satisfied with her clothes’ level of IDGAF attitude, Quincy trotted downstairs. Her mom had returned home over last night, and was still upstairs in bed. Q didn’t bother waking her. She slipped out the front door, snagging an apple from the kitchen on her way out, and began the drive to BHHS in her car, the one luxury item she chose to use.

An uneventful drive led to an uneventful wait in the parking lot, scrolling through social media and watching students pass by her car. When she finally made her way into homeroom, she took a seat at her usual table, with A Double, Rose and Raf. She sat down next to A Double and offered a smile. ”Hey,” she said, waving. Before she could continue, Wyatt came in, clearly stoned. Perhaps the only person Q knew better than A Double was Wyatt, and she knew that when Wyatt was stoned, he didn’t walk. He swaggered. And just like Johnny Depp in full pirate garb, Wyatt swaggered over to their table, and Quincy instinctively gave him her Stare.

Quincy’s Stare isn’t a normal one. See, Q wasn’t always a Burner. Being a Prep led to a few lessons on how to stare daggers at someone, and Q had studied. She didn’t like to get up on her high horse about being high at school, but she worried about Wyatt. She’d gathered bits and pieces about his family life over her time with the Burners, and she knew it wasn’t great. She’d never asked him, and A Double wouldn’t tell her, but she knew he didn’t get along very well with his dads. Her mom had mentioned the Durand’s a few times, and she knew his siblings were the exact opposites of Wyatt, so she imagined it had something to do with that. She just didn’t want him to use weed as an escape. Maybe you shouldn’t be judging.”

[Fabricant451]

The hottest party of the year was winding down at long last. The bar was running dry, food was dwindling or drying on the floor, the effects of the happiest of happy pills was taking effect, and anyone who was anyone was out on the beach sitting around the bonfire. There wasn't much longer before the chorus of voices would join together to drunkenly serenade the ending of the year while ringing in a new one, which meant time was running out for those without someone to hold close and celebrate together to find someone. The party would be on everyone's lips for the following week, if not longer, from the bartender's eccentric concoctions to the displays of debauchery fueled by a teenage bout of lust and poor inhibitions, this was a party to remember. Though truly the talk of the night was one of the many altercations. Some were were over the simple. Spilled beer soiling a fancy polo. Dancing too close on someone's girlfriend. Hustling at the pool table. All of those incidents were trivial compared to the talk of the night.

The big fight at the entrance to the party.

When powers clashed, the mortals of the world got out of the way, and while the story was being passed around like a bad game of telephone the general participants were consistent between tellings. What started as a fist fight turned into sexual assault turned into games of he said-she said. There was only one thing that was clear: The Lion had been kissed by The Lamb.

While the party was entering its final stages a lone figure crossed the beach under the comfort of the night sky. The figure kept to the shadows, out of sight of the drunks and stoners, out of the illuminating range of the raging fire. The destination was clear even if the route was anything but. A lone tent near the end of the beach, on the backside of the beach house. There was no secret to what these tents were for; there were only so many bedrooms in the beach house and for as liberated as many of the student body claimed to be, few actually would've agreed to sharing the bed with other couples trying to drunkenly reach a climax together. It didn't take long for a little saying to travel its way through the party: When the flap is shut, it's time to nut.

Someone didn't get the memo.

The furthest tent flap unzipped and illuminated by the moonlight entered a tall, broad shouldered boy with a mop of unkempt dirty brown hair. Even in the poor lighting of the night sky his eyes shone brighter than any star above. He had been running, given that his shirt was clinging to him like saran wrap, and the mop of sweat down the collar was like a trail guiding the eyes downwards where the sizes-too-small shirt did little to hide the fruits of an athletic workout. Not many at this party could claim to be in such perfect physical shape, but when he had the body of an Adonis who could blame him for wanting to show it off in subtle ways?

"You're late." Certainly not the occupant of the tent, who had until now been being quite the belle of the ball by absorbing himself in a fantasy novel. Though fantasy, as with most things, paled in comparison to the reality. His eyes were drawn away from the written word towards the statuesque presence who was closing the tent behind him. The reader was far more slender and spoke with a low whisper that nevertheless sounded as sweet as cinnamon. In stark contrast to the messy haired man at the flaps, the smaller boy's hair was a brilliant black sheen that was trimmed and styled immaculately, and the only blemish to his attire was the slight wrinkled crease along the back.

There wasn't an apology given by the intruder. Not a verbal one, anyway. Without speaking, the messy haired man entered the tent fully, embracing the smaller boy with his arms thrown around his back. Their lips pressed together and for a time the only sound was that of their shared heartbeat and the only feeling was the warmth of their breath on each other's skin. The kiss was a deep one, passionate, with tongues dancing a gentle routine on the stage that was each other's mouth. How long did the kiss last? In actuality only a few seconds, but those few seconds were like a lifetime neither of them wanted to come to an end.

This kiss was quite different from the one they shared at the front door, though that one had been for the benefit of an audience. They had to throw them off the scent, after all.

"I didn't hurt you, did I? Matching his physique, the Lion's roaring voice was more of a mewl in the presence of his Little Lamb. The Lion ran his thumb over the Lamb's lower lip, an apologetic gesture of affection. "I had to make it believable."

"Hurt me? You could never." The Lamb smiled up at his Lion, and the way that beast became like a domesticated animal with the smile and bout of laughter that followed was enough to have the Lamb move in for another kiss. "But if you want to make it up to me, you can start by taking your shirt off."

The Lion didn't have to be told twice. The Lamb couldn't keep from sliding his fingers over that washboard stomach, the little bit of resistance as he pressed his fingers against that toned torso. More. The Lamb wanted more even as the Lion was busy unbuttoning his Lamb's shirt. Their hands couldn't stop holding one another, couldn't stop affirming their physical affection for the other. The Lamb traced his slim fingers along the outline of his Lion's Adonis belt, eagerly wanting to go lower, to hold what lay at the bisection, and his eagerness had him pulling down the worn pair of jeans with the eagerness of opening a birthday present.

This Lion came ready to pounce.

The night's party would be on everybody's lips. But at the moment there was something much more appealing for the Lamb to wrap his own lips around. And the Lion did roar.

---

_{Often compared to a tree that bears no fruit. A bank account with no loot; The inability to produce a thought. Ideas get stale, brain cells rot
Homeroom}

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Ever since the party came to a close in disappointing fashion - disappointing because Hana was one of the kissless come midnight which just seemed impossible - Hana had debated about going through with the 'submit' button. It had been a few months since the last time VanillaSunrise uploaded the second thing VanillaSunrise was known for: erotic slash fiction. She had a small bit of notoriety within communities, namely for her rather vivid descriptions of the deviant acts in question as well as the fact that she took requests. Some people drew erotic art of characters. Hana Park wrote erotic fanfiction. The reason why hesitated on uploading part one was because this story The Lion and The Lamb wasn't using fictional characters. Anyone who might've been a reader of VanillaSunrise's boy's love stories would easily have been able to tell just who this story was actually about.

The dilemma stuck with her even here at school as she was looking over what she had written on her tablet. It wasn't the best thing she'd written, though it did have a few turns of phrase involving lions that she was rather proud of, but in terms of graphic content it was lacking. Sure, it was present, but far more subtle and, she felt, that made it a bit more romantic and real. What was sad was that this bit of fanfiction was essentially the highlight of Hana's New Year's Eve. For damn near the entire party Hana was against a wall, handing out pills and poppers to people having much more fun. She missed raid night for that party and all she had to show for it was ninety five hundred dollars pocketed and little else.

The day after the party was not much better. The police, rather her sister Abby, had read the Weekend Warrior and had an uncomfortable amount of questions about the party. Hana was surprised her sister didn't demand a drug test. But Hana was home by curfew, which helped her case. When midnight rolled around and Hana was left alone in the beach house sad and bored, there was little else for her to do except go home. Hana was back at Abby's apartment by twelve thirty and was doing a dungeon run by twelve forty five. She didn't even get any legendary drops.

Now that school was back on, Hana found herself again just killing time. For someone that was known throughout the school, she didn't have much to show for it. No one was sitting at her table. People in homeroom were doing their own thing and Hana was looking over erotic fiction involving two students of BHHS.

"Screw it." Hana went all in. Her finger pressed the 'submit' button and like that the latest bit of slash fiction went up on VanillaSunrise's page.

It was likely to be the highlight of her school day. Which only served to make her all the more upset, as she sighed and blew a few strands of her hair out of her eyes.

---

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_{The president has a sex tape. The government sold you drugs. I’m just trying to get paid, but nobody’s coughing up.
Homeroom}

---

The fact that Henry fucking Green came stomping into the room to stew amidst his harem was like a cherry on top of the sundae Roz had been enjoying ever since the blog went live. This was a big one. The Weekend Warrior was a known quantity within Beverly Hills High and had been ever since Roz's first year. The older posts were a lot less focused and a lot less professional. No one really took it seriously at first, it was seen as just someone using profanity instead of having an actual point to make. But Roz remained determined and adapted. Clickbait titles were the bane of legitimate journalism but she had to admit they did wonders for web traffic. Weekend Warrior evolved with Roz, elevating itself from just some stupid burn blog to a burn blog with a point and a message inbetween slamming those who were unfortunate to catch the eye.

This was the first instance where action was taken as a direct result of what she had written. Henry fucking Green was angry. She could see the Warrior on people's phones, she could hear people whispering, wondering how much of what they read was true. The article about the New Year's party had basically gone viral within Beverly Hills High. Weekend Warrior's infamy was at an all time high and Roz was happy to simply watch the show. She did this. She fired the first shot. Hopefully others would follow suit.

The hard part was trying not to look too smug, but Roz walked into homeroom that morning with a bit of a skip to her step. People were on notice now. That was good. Journalism was a powerful tool. In the past it exposed coverups and criminals, ousted molesters and murderers, gave the power of voice to those who had none, and now it was going to be used against people who couldn't help but to shit on the little person.

The comments on the post were largely positive, which was a rarity, and Roz didn't even have the time to go through them all yet due to the sheer amount of them. It felt like everyone who was at the party, and even some who weren't, had something to say or something to corroborate the claims. Roz was in her normal spot, back of the class, closest to the door, and she was scrolling through the comments, giddy as a school girl on prom night.

Until a discrepancy crossed her eyes.

"That can't be right." Refresh. Refresh. Each time brought the same result. Mixed in among the comments and single to five dollar donations was a comment attached to a $4500 donation. For some that attended this school it might've been pocket change but for Roz it was a serious amount of cash. More than she made in six months running the site with ads. "Who the fuck..."

Roz was out of her chair in a flash, and out the homeroom door not long after that. She was dialing the number as she made her way to an empty stairwell, dipping around behind it, a little place students used to sneak cigarettes or makeouts between classes. It was probably some mistake, someone might've added some extra zeroes to the total and it was her responsibility to clear up any confusion. The number was dialed. It rang.

A man answered. He sounded proper. Older. He had manners, that was suspicious enough. "Hello, I'm inquiring about a donation this number left on a webpage?" Roz put on her own voice, doing her best to sound proper bougie; that she sounded like someone ordering a pumpkin spice latte was largely the point. Her normal voice would have given her away in an instant. "Well you tell me if there's a problem. Forty five hundred dollars is not exactly walking around money. I was wondering if there was some kind of mistake or...yes I...represent Weekend Warrior. I'm the...Webmaster. I'm not saying I want to give it back, I want to know what it means."

This old man was exhausting to talk to. He sounded so robotic. He had to be some kind of mediator. The question, then, was for whom. "Look, I'm not stupid, you don't leave a phone number on a donation because you want to gossip and dish dirt. I want a face-to-face. Whoever you are, set it up. This isn't adding up. Your people can call my people, or whatever."

Roz hung up first and sat down, leaning her back against the stairwell. She should've been overjoyed to get such a gift for her words, but something about it just stunk. The sundae had melted and the cherry rolled under the couch. Something was going on, and Roz was keen on finding out what it was.

What kind of journalist would she be otherwise.

[Hey Im Jordan]

_{A Collab With: @Fabricant451
Featuring: Henry Green, Chae Min-seo, Parker Ashford, and Hana Park
Location: Homeroom}

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Henry was late to homeroom. While not entirely uncommon for him; the strange part was his reasoning. It wasn’t odd for Henry to just not want to come in, and thus neglect doing so. This time… this time Henry Green had visited a place he’d never been inside. Henry had went to the library.

In his arms, he carried massive books — tomes, really. One was a history book, one was a California law book, one a federal law book, and finally, the school rule book. Somewhere, somehow, someway someone had fucked up. Henry was not about to allow such a severe mark on his record, nor such a mark as the one against his character.

DATE RAPED PARKER?

Whoever wrote that blog was sensationalist scum, and he would find them. On his word, on his life he would find them. And then he would own them. Lawsuits, baby. Hulk Hogan vs Gawker. This school? This room he’d walked into? MIGHT AS WELL BE HIS.

Henry made a beeline to his table, where Parker was already sitting. Henry slammed the huge stack of books onto the table and looked at his tiny blonde friend. “I have some light reading to do.” He said, then in a hushed voice, he added. “Did Damian tell you?” Damian, of course, had no reason, nor intent, to tell Parker anything.

Parker had read the blog, of course, though in this case it was more accurate to say Parker read the first few sentences, saw how long the little bar on the side of the screen was, could see absolutely no pictures other than the advertisement about singles in the area (which she was told not to click on and she was a good listener), and then promptly went back to watching cartoons on Youtube. When she arrived at school, there were strange looks when she got out of the car along with Henry and Minsy. Normally people waved when Parker waved at them as she went on her way, skipping towards homeroom, but she was stopped this time by the school counselor. She and Parker were basically best friends - or at least as ‘best friends’ as a staff member and student could be.

But that was old at this point. Parker and the counselor had a talk, as they did every Wednesday...except today wasn’t Wednesday but they still talked and she was promptly dismissed. The whispers and weird looks only continued as Parker made her way to homeroom. Maybe it was Whisper Day?

Parker sat in the same spot she always did. The table she and Henry and Mincy shared, with her seat being closest to the window. Mincy was already there, drawing weird things in her notebook but Henry wasn’t. Nothing unusual, Henry was often the last one to sit at the table. Parker occupied her time by watching Mincy draw but her attention was snapped back to the table when books slammed the table. Both Parker and Mincy jumped but only Parker had something to say about it.

”AHH!” Her scream was third to the slamming of the books in volume, and both were tied for second as Parker slapped the table with her palm. ”HAH! YOU DIDN’T DO YOUR HOMEWORK, DID YOU? DID YOU? MINCY HELPED ME WITH MINE!” Parker playfully shoved her palm against Min-seo’s shoulder, shaking the poor girl who was still reeling from the books.

”Is this...about the blog?” Min-seo chimed in before waving her hand towards Parker like one does when shooing a little mosquito. Min-seo had read the blog, of course, though she didn’t really comprehend a lot of it. It seemed unfair or heavily biased, but clearly it had an effect.

”Is things...good?” Min-seo showed concern while Parker had already snatched one of the smaller books from the pile.

”THERE’S JUST WORDS. BOOOOORINGGGGGG.” The only one who didn’t seem to know about Parker’s ‘party foul’ was Parker herself.

“Well, Parker. I need to do some research, okay? Yes, Min, it’s about the damn blog. Things are shit. People think I took advantage of Parker! Which I WOULD NEVER DO. And, aside from that, they’re puttin’ the axe to my back and fuckin’ me over. I gotta do a whole lotta bullshit.” He shook his head in disgust, opening the history book toward the section he cared about: the Geneva Convention. “Wack ass motherfuckers think I’mma try and play possum. I’m bout to show ‘em what’s fuckin’ what. Dig?” Henry reached into his backpack and withdrew two things: a big bag of gummy bears, which he tossed at Parker, and a binder he hadn’t opened since his high school career began.

Henry Green turned to the first, blank page, and put his pencil to it. He would win this battle, or he would die trying.

Parker practically snatched the gummy bears out of midair like a dog playing fetch. Her enthusiasm over the colorful treat was halted by the packaging of the candy. Its low barrier to entry was proving difficult for Parker who was pulling at the plastic wrap; opening chips or the little orange square crackers in the red box was much easier. She couldn’t ask Henry, he was busy doing important book stuff. Fortunately, there was Min-seo who tapped Parker on the shoulder, took the bag of gummy bears, and opened it in one fell swoop before giving it back to the diminutive girl.

”THANKS, MINCY! YOU WANT ONE?”

Min-seo politely declined by shaking both her head and her hand at the same time. The other member of this unique table had closed her sketchbook now and was much more interested in this strange obsession with was certainly not any school work. ”Dig?” The colorful language spewed by Henry was often lost by Min-seo or, sometimes, taken rather literally. This was one of those times. ”Where’s...shovel?” She realized a but slowly that it was probably American slang and promptly shook her head. ”Henry...it is just...lies. Parker is…”

At this, Min-seo glanced to her left in time to see Parker happily chewing away on a rather colorful worm while having another slide around her part of the table like it was crawling through the grass.

”...Is not your...type girl. She is..little sister. Don’t believe them.” She was trying to make things better, but it might have been a futile effort. Even she had assumed Henry had gone upstairs for that purpose before being told otherwise, and the truth made far more sense given what she knew of Henry.

Henry, who was already balls deep in his second page on his notepad, turned his attention to Min-seo, letting about a deep breath. “Look, Min. I know it’s a lie, and you know it’s a lie. Everyone who knows me, or even knows Parker, knows that it was a lie. It’s not really about like clearin’ my name, or somethin’, it’s about people throwin’ dirt on me when they got no right to do it. And,” Henry leaned forward, scowling slightly, “I guaran-damn-tee that my sister was behind this somehow, or someway. my bitch sister was involved in this. She engineered my worst day ever so that she could smile and enjoy the pain of other people. Because she’s basically a witch… I’m gonna get through this, but I gotta build my case first, and hopefully nobody fucks anything before I do it. Hold up, I gotta go talk to Hana. Parker, I’mma tell you this, because if I don’t I’ll feel bad later, but don’t eat all of those right now, you’ll get sick and puke and cry and blame me for giving you worms.”

Henry leaned over and grabbed one of the worms from the bag and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing before he stood up and walked across the way, to Hana Park’s desk and took a seat across from her. Henry leaned forward and cradled his chin in his hands.

“I’m gonna need you to come through for me.”

Hana wasn’t expecting the sudden arrival of Henry; by all accounts he had had his hands full dealing with the fallout. She put her tablet aside and focused on the matter at hand. Whatever happened in response to the blog had to have really gotten to Henry to have him approaching her during school hours. Typically the ones who needed her at school were the real addicts who didn’t exactly know the definition of discrete. What else could this be about? It wasn’t like she could talk to her sister and get her to overrule whatever the school decided. Hana crossed her arms and sat back in her chair; now was the time for her to be in full business mode. ”It’s been like three days, I hope you’re not asking for a New Year’s amount of favor here. My guys are good but they aren’t magic.” It was damn near a full time job, keeping this place connected and high. Still, another decent payday had a mystical ability to make others want to work a bit harder.

”What do you need?”

Now, Henry had to think of a pleasant way to say ‘I need you to give me a kilo of Columbian bambam in discreet packaging.’ There was, of course, no easy, simple way to say that. To be honest, Henry had expected Hana to be a bit more friendly by now, after all he’d just paid her a fuckton of money to hand out pills to a bunch of addicted freaks at a party at a beautiful beach house with free food. But noooo, nothing was good enough for her. Women; honestly. Henry took a deep breath and composed himself, doing his best to maintain a level of seriousness similar to Hana’s, if not equal to it. “I need.” Henry looked around to make sure no one was looking, then leaned in, keeping this simple:

“A lot of cocaine. You know that rich white person drug? Hook it up, baby girl. I’m basic as fuck.” Well, the seriousness had lasted for the first half of his first sentence. Progress!

The party never stopped with Henry Green, did it? It wasn’t Hana’s business to ask why someone needed whatever it was they needed, dealers didn’t concern themselves with the why of the clients. Still she would have been lying if she said she wasn’t curious. Someone who drops ten thousand for party favors now needing the drug of choice for corporate lawyers nationwide? Someone was an addict. An addict with money and an addict who was in luck. ”You know going out in an overdose won’t help your current reputation, right?” Sometimes it was hard for Hana not to let a bit of her more judgmental side out. It was more thinking aloud, but what was wrong with a little banter between customer and dealer?

”I can get you an eighth or two. An extra hundred and I’ll throw in a speedball if you really wanna go out a legend. Because you did me a solid over New Year’s I’ll take 80 per gram. When do you need it?” Hana really ought to thank the dealers of the world, ever since getting into the business herself her math scores had gone through the roof.

“Like as soon as possible? Here’s $600, keep the change. I’m good on a speedball, I’ll keep myself to cocoa leaves mixed in with concrete mix and gasoline, no heroin or morphine needed.” Henry slid the money under the table and put it on Hana’s leg, before looking at his watch. “Mama always says to support local businesses, y’know? So that’s why I come to you instead of a wholesaler, really appreciate it. Also, don’t worry about me, I’m not gonna overdose. I’m like Scarface, I can snort mountains of cocaine without even blinkin’ an eye. I’m a machine. Or, something like that. Just whenever you get a chance just come to my house. The gate code is still 109853. Really appreciate it, thanks.” Did Henry need to go on a cocaine fueled rampage over this?

No, but he didn’t have any reason not to.

If it was anyone else, they were likely to get slapped. Not from doing the business angle, but because she was wearing a skirt today and the cash, while nice, wasn’t comfortable in her lap. She quickly folded the bills and transferred them from her leg to her purse as if she had done it thousands of times before. Whatever happened it couldn’t have been good. Cocaine was a hell of a drug and Henry was looking at at least seven point five grams, if her math checked out. If this was the last she saw of Henry Green at least she had the memory of earning ten thousand dollars from him. That would make for a nice eulogy.

”Didn’t Scarface die in the end? Whatever, it’s your money. I’ll swing by after school. Don’t give any to the exchange student, either. You’ll kill the poor girl.” Some people worked overtime for a month and still didn’t break ten thousand on their check after taxes. All she had to do was swing by her suppliers and she was living well. She’d be able to get the new graphics card by the end of the week. It was good to have friends in high places.

“Please, I’d never. Min is an innocent flower, I’m not gonna ruin that. Just like I never ruined Parker either. If I go out like Scarface, remember to tell them that. Henry Green didn’t fuck his friends.” Henry stuffed a hand in his pocket and withdrew a pack of spearmint gum, stuffing a piece into his pocket and giving Hana a nod before standing up and heading back to his table. Mission accomplished, more or less.

[Kitty]

---

Location: Homeroom
Interacting with: Marshall_{@Silent Observer} and Josie_@Kitty

---

Josephine had gone to school a bit earlier than she normally did the morning that school resumed. Just three days prior to school starting back up her boss had given her the music for the Junior Hip Hop Squad’s routine and tasked Josie with choreographing the routine in ten days. Normally Audrey would never be that nice, giving her such a long time span; but the woman also had her choreographing the Minis’ jazz and tap routines as of the next day. So Josie really had nine days for three routines, not that she minded. The Minis’ routines were short and easy to choreograph so by now she had them worked out pretty well for the most part, she just had to clean up the ideas and come up with formations and transitions. It was just the Junior Hip Hop Squad she had to worry about.

So Josie had gotten to school early and gone to the homeroom classroom, taking up a spot in the back where there was plenty of space for her to be up and moving. She was going to make the most of the time by choreographing, not really caring if others thought it was weird that she was dancing in the back. Josephine was confident enough in her skills and in herself that she could care less about others. Besides, once the girl began dancing she entered her own little world. Which is exactly where she was now; headphones in, music playing on repeat, and the beat of the music driving her body on autopilot through dance moves as she experimented over and over.

It was the first day of spring semester classes, and Marshall Radley had a lot to think about. So much so, that his head felt like it was actually spinning above his neck. Many things had happened over break, both good things… and not so good things. And just straight up bad things. Sure, there was Christmas and family time, but there was also the Owen situation, and the closet thing, and more importantly the Jamie thing, and then the victimizing Weekend Warrior blog, and then the Nate discussion of the blog… and of the Jamie thing. Not to mention having to figure out what to do about all of these things, in addition to planning prom, deciding on and auditioning for this semester’s drama production, voice and dance lessons picking back up. There was just a LOT, okay?!

This is why it was a literal godsend when Marshall walked into Mrs. Winship’s homeroom to see that many of his good friends were also there. One such friend, and also his absolute favorite dance partner, was Josephine. Josie seemed to be totally in the zone, dancing her ass off in the back of the room. Yes! That looked like an excellent escape from his swimming thoughts. Marshall grinned at his Candy girls and gave a finger-wiggling wave as he passed them by to join Josie in the back.

For a few moments, he watched her and tried to guess the routine. When he didn’t recognize it, he then tried to infer the song based on her moves and rhythm. Coming up blank yet again, Marsh popped one of the wireless earbuds out of her ear and placed it in his own. Listening to the music for a few moments, he began to nod along to the beat. Letting his incessant thoughts fade away, Marshall allowed himself to be lost in the music, moving his trained body in perfect time beside Josie.

Josie was in the zone, dancing her way through the song over and over. Her focus was on the music and her moves, nothing else in the room mattered. So when her favorite dance and sass master appeared out of nowhere, stealing one of her earbuds… she was not prepared for it. Marshall’s sudden appearance caused Josephine to jump but when he began dancing along to the music all she could do was get right back into dancing. If there was anything that made dancing better, it was dancing with Marshall.

Upon the song ending Josie grabbed her phone and hit pause, giving Marshall a playful glare. “Marshall, you know you can’t sneak up on me when I’m in the zone.” She playful slapped his arm, a smile spreading on her face. “So what brings you to the dance corner of homeroom this morning? With everything that happened at the party I would have thought you’d be with the other Candies gossiping about all the exciting things that happened.” Pushing a piece of her naturally coiled hair behind her ear, Josie gave Marshall a look of curiosity as she awaited his answer.

“Exciting? I guess… that’s one way to put it.” Marsh replied through heavy breaths from their little dance session. “Truthfully, I came back here for a distraction. You know I love drama, but I really hate being the subject of it.” He grimaced, reflecting on that god awful article that poked and prodded at a situation that he would rather forget. Marshall then flicked his eyes over to where Jamie was sitting, and bit his lip. He’d get to that. “So, let’s just dance, my dancing queen.”

Josie knew immediately what Marshall was referring to. It was rare for anyone to not read the Weekend Warrior and she was no exception. She was, though, someone who knew a lot about dancing as a distraction, especially with Marshall. Josie and him had met through dance and connected through it, they both also knew what it was like to just want to spend hours dancing to forget everything else in life. So that’s what they would do through homeroom.

“I’m sure people won’t mind a bit of music and of course if they have a problem they can just kiss my ass.” Josie joked as she disconnected her wireless earbuds from her phone and went to her dance music playlist, pressing shuffle. Music began to blast out of her phone as she set it down and turned to Marshall, “Let us dance!” Josephine proclaimed in an odd accent as she held her hand out to Marshall with a huge grin on her face.

Smiling a wide and stunning grin, Marshall accepted her hand. The first song in the playlist was a familiar beat that they had done a tango routine to last year. Falling into the old routine came as easily as breathing, as both of their hips began to swing and snap in time to the music. Marshall spun Josie by the hand and then pulled her so that they were chest to chest, in what appeared to be a passionate embrace. With this Dirty Dancing vibe, it would be hard to believe that Marsh was a gay man dancing with one of his good friends, rather than them simply being a pair of lovers. It would be hard to believe… but everyone in the room knew Marshall, so it wasn’t.

The music took control as it coursed through her veins, moving her and Marshall in sync. Their moves, though well rehearsed, looked natural and painted emotion through the room. Ever since the two friends had met, they’d been dance partners. Josie and Marshall just naturally worked perfectly together in dances, even when it came to improvising, it was like they could read one another’s mind and they always were on the same page. As they danced in the class Josie couldn’t help but remember the competition they performed this at where a girl from another dance studio asked if the two of them were dating. That had caused Josie and Marshall to just look at each other before laughing at the thought. It just showed though, that if you didn’t know Marshall well enough then it could be easy to believe he was straight when he danced in the way he was with Josie now.

But of course, impromptu homeroom dance parties couldn’t last forever, not even with a teacher who cared as little as Mrs. Winship did. There was a loud, exaggerating clearing of her throat before the old lady spoke up. “Ms. Erickson, Mr. Radley, you two are being obscene. Turn the music off and take a seat, please.” At the mention of being obscene, Marshall and Josie locked eyes and, just like they had when they had been asked if they were dating, they burst out laughing together.

“Aww, but we didn’t even get to the twerking yet, Mrs Winship!” Marshall replied with a cheeky grin, having overcome his bout of giggles.

“Come on Mrs. W! We can even teach you how to twerk if you want.” Josie said between escaping giggles. The thought of seeing Mrs. Winship twerking making it harder for her to contain her laughter. The statement only got Josie a blank stare from the woman who made a slight motion with her head and eyes for them to sit down. Of course her music had perfect timing as a song Mrs. Winship would not approve of began playing only causing Josie to gain a wider smile as she looked to Marshall to see how he reacted to the new song.

There was no denying it. The moment was fated. What better a song to twerk to than one by the queen of ass herself? Not only that, but a song that wasn't even veiled as being about anything other than booty… and one's ability to work it. If Mrs. Winship thought the tango was obscene, she was in for a treat with this display. Marshall grinned at Josie and bent his knees slightly to get into position. “Twerk off.”

“Oh you are on.” Josephine smirked at Marshall as she got low and began twerking. Moving her body to show off her different skills of twerking. The two were definitely being obscene now and she knew that the two of them dancing the way they were was definitely grinding on Mrs. Winship’s nerves. Josie couldn’t be more correct as she heard Mrs. Winship’s voice over the music, “Mr. Radley! Ms. Erickson! That is enough obscene dancing from you two. Sit down and turn the music off!”

Knowing better than to keep testing the woman, Josie stopped her twerking and held her laughter back behind a huge grin. “Yes, ma’am.” She put her hand up to her forehead with two fingers out giving a mini salute to Mrs. Winship before going to her phone and pausing the music.

Marshall stifled another laugh before turning to award his homeroom teacher one of his signature charming smiles. “Sorry, Mrs. Winship!” He apologized in what seemed like a genuine way, and that seemed to placate the woman for now. It helped that Josie was also turning off the music, as was requested.

“Thanks JoJo, I needed that.” Marshall said to his friend before getting ready to take a seat. But which seat? He could take the easy route and go sit with his girls. Or he could be bold. Marshall being Marshall, he chose the latter, and decided to take the seat right next to Jamie. This would be fine, yes, totally fine.

[LovelyComplex]

Location: The Sunset Castle → Hallway → Homeroom
Interacting with: Luna/Stella → Trix/Luna/Stella → Trix/Riley → Trix/Jamie _@smarty0114/ Marshall _{@Silent Observer} & Homeroom class

---

---

“It’s so sad, LuLu!” The taller blonde of the two stood at the front entrance of the Locke Residence staring down at a much expected Monday package, while ‘LuLu’, who contrasted her sister in height, and had near platinum blonde hair (highlights), made her way down the lobby toward her beloved other half. Yes lobby, since their home was also their mother’s salon. Both girls, who were at the blooming age of sixteen, were in nothing but silk bathrobes. One was the color of blush pink, which hardly hid the model-esque body it covered, and the other was the color of plum purple, fitting the more petite and tiny body near perfectly.

On the ground, with elegant blue ribbon around it, tied into a delicate bow, laid a single white lily.

LuLu, or more formerly Luna, walked past her fraternal twin and bent over to pick up the flower, “She was supposed to cancel it.” With the stem now in hand, between her thumb and pointer fingers, the Moon in their father’s life examined the petals with a contemplative stare. Curious, don’t you think?

“Maybe she couldn’t. MAYBE it’s like the one thing keeping their--”

“Stella.” Stop her while she’s ahead. The Star in their father’s life was the type to go on and on, all social cues flying right over her head or even her just not knowing when enough was enough. Ask her a yes or no question? Prepare yourself for her life story. Ask her if this outfit looked good or not? Make sure you have tissues because she’ll tear up and explain your beauty in an excerpt.

This particular subject was a hot topic for an estimate of three months. Mother dearest and Stella-baby needed to move on and find something else worth talking about. Unless...

“Yes, sissy?"

“We should give this to her.” Normally, their mother, Juliana, would have them retrieve the lilies upon arrival and put it in a vase in the massage room, hidden from Trixie and still being well taken care of, but this time…

“Instead of mama?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t like Trixie didn’t know about this. It was an anniversary gift. That would last an entire year. But since the incident, the gift turned into a painful reminder of something that no longer existed.

“This will only make her sad…” Stella crossed her arms and sorrowfully pouted. Why did her cousin have to go through so much pain? Why did the entire situation of what went down smell fishy to her? She never did trust her half sister… Hailey was cruel and ruthless. Something mustn’t be right. Something must be off. It was unbelievable how fast everything crashed. How fast their love crashed.

Was their love even real? Stella didn’t understand, at all. The only love she understood was love of family. Anything beyond that went zoom, zoom over her head!

“Or help me prove a point.” A smirk fell on Luna’s pale face and in response, Stella dumbly blinked and let her sister pull her hand to the guest room where Trixie was staying.

What was she planning on doing?!

---

Sitting on her borrowed bed, staring at the ivory faux sheepskin rug, extremely fluffy, letting her toes rub against the softness, Trixie’s vision was blurred from one, lack of sleep, and two, the unfortunate circumstance of not having 20/20 vision. She could at least see the form of her legs and feet. Apathetically, she reached for her glasses on the nightstand. No one besides family, and well, Owen, knew she wore contacts and glasses. Truth be told, Beatrix was blind as a bat, but at least she played it off like she had observant skills as amazing as Sherlock Holmes. Even if her contact fell out, she could pretend she saw what was on the board and act like she knew what she was talking about. Truly, she was gifted and one hell of a lucky improvisor. When her glasses were on, she could see through her peripheral vision that both Stella and Luna helped themselves in… without even knocking. Such creeps.

“Yes? I still have ten more minutes before I absolutely have to get out of bed.” What did they want? It was too early for… them. Unlike her cousins, Trixie wore shorts and a tank to sleep. They were definitely their mother’s daughters. Sleep in the nude, walk around the house mostly in the nude. The bathrobes were thin and didn’t hide much.

Not wasting any time, which put Stella on complete edge, Luna strutted toward the dark beaut and grabbed her cousin’s hand, placing the lily in it, “For you.” Trixie watched as Luna released her hand and stepped back, waiting.

Waiting for what?

Usually, when Trixie saw a lily arrive she would get… incredibly sad. This time, though? An item has as much meaning as you give it. Before she could react, Stella squealed, “We just thought, hey if she didn’t cancel it, she must still love--”

“Stella.”

“Sorry! But, like, it’s pretty and you’re pretty. And what you had was…” Luna gave a heavy sigh when Stella’s eyes started to water up.

“Go pick out her outfit. It’s going to be okay, Stel. You’re going to be okay.” Luna patted her sister’s back. Man, her sister had the spitting spirit of their mother. Nodding emotionally, Stella trudged to Trixie’s closet. Their ultimate goal was to make Trix conquer the world today by being hot. So that’s exactly what she was going to do. While she walked off, Luna brought Trixie’s head up to look at her, “A white lily. Symbolizes? Purity and the beauty of youth. Your favorite flower, even before you let it hold more meaning than what it actually has. A flower.” Trixie raised an eyebrow, but did not say anything. What was Luna getting at?

“Trixie, are you going to let one bad moment ruin something that once was good for you? Something that was like… this.” Kneeling down, Luna locked eyes with her cousin’s but kept the flower as the focal point. Although Trixie was trying extremely hard to keep her expression stoic, her eyes spoke volumes. First Elodie. Then Isaac at the Hummingbird Creations. Now… Luna and Stella.

“I don’t know…” Trix’s eyes were fixated on the lily.

“You do know. You would’ve cancelled the weekly lily reminder if part of you didn’t want to know...more. You want to know more, don’t you? I know you do. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t want to know the full story.”

“But… where would I start?” There was an old feeling crawling back into Trixie’s heart. Hope. Hope not so much to return to what was. No, hope for a new start by cleaning her slate. To do so? She needed to find the strength to approach her ex, get him to forgive her, she needed to find closure, for peace of mind, and she needed to find herself, her voice, amidst all the chaos that was her school. It wasn’t going to be easy and honestly, she knew she would fall more before she climbed, and yet, she felt like she needed to do something about her current state. Anything. If her mother saw her now, what would she think?

As bipolar as she felt lately, Trixie knew she was better than this. Her thoughts went to the party and how her drunk self felt inclined to run away from Ophelia. Or how when she tried to stop Owen from hurting Marshall, Hailey grabbed her wrist… Perhaps, first, she needed to distance herself from the two people that made it hard for her to think straight. That could lead to disaster. Perhaps, that wasn't a good idea at all and she simply needed to stay as is, while on the sidelines she investigated.

Her train of thought was broken by the bubbly voice of Stella, “Let’s make you dazzle! That’s where we can start. You’ll shine bright like a… diamond, my lovely! We’ll make sure of it.”

“She has a point. That's what we do best. We shine.” Luna giggled to herself and gave her doll a teasing wink.

Oh boy. This is exactly the kind of morning Trixie wanted to avoid. After laying the lily on her pillow, Beatrix was dragged to her closet...

---

With prowess and conviction, Trixie’s black heels resounded down one of the many hallways that were within Beverly Hills High. Stella had decided to have her cousin sport black, which wasn't something she did often, but would definitely get people to stare. She felt a sense of clarity and empowerment, though she didn’t know how long that would last. As she sauntered, her hips swaying with every step, she opened her planner and there residing in it were the pictures that changed everything for her. The pictures of Owen making out with a mysterious girl.

“Trixie!” Stopping in her tracks, she closed her planner and turned her head back to see Riley Wells speed walking to her.

“Doesn’t your show air in five? Did you lose the memo I gave you?” The HOT girl turned on her heel to face school’s biggest personality. Her voice didn’t have as much of a bite as he was use to. “I might have a copy of it in my--”

Before she went for her light blue leather backpack, he brought his hand up, which held one of his many bouncy balls, to stop her, “No, no. We’re in the clear with that.” Raising her eyebrow in curiosity and anticipation, the ‘mean’ girl waited for him to continue. “Uh… you good?”

“What?”

“I, uh, the party! You sounded god awful, which isn’t a… usual thing. But, of course you’re good! You’re here looking fine as hell, ready to take on the school day and--”

“Riley. What's this really about?” Jesus, he was reminding her of Stella. She did smile a bit at him calling her ‘fine’. She’d take a compliment any day.

Okay, okay. Just ask her. “Have you talked to Jamie lately?” He watched her expression turn from intrigue to surprise. Welp. She probably hasn’t.

“Why you ask?” She took a step closer, breaching Rye’s personal space. “Are you good?”

“What? Yeah I am! I'm so good. I was just curious if he… told you any story ideas for his column...?” Like about him potentially having a secret relationship with Marshall.

“Since when did you care about the newspaper?” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know something was up. What made this even curiouser was he went to her instead of Jamie knowing very well Jamie shared their homeroom together. Did they know something that was relevant to what was happening? The battle between popular kids. Or did they know something more intimate? Was Riley trying to make sure Jamie didn’t tell her something? Something about… her?

The boy came to the realization of his grave mistake and decided to escape while he could, “Oh look at the time! I better meet up with A Double and Bry… catch ya later.”

“Riley!” In a matter of seconds, he was gone.

---

With a fiery spirit and burning interest, Trixie entered the room, and unlike her, she was one of the later arrivals. She even missed the dance party between Josie and Marshall, coming in right when Mrs. Winship reprimanded them.

Rather than go to her ‘usual’ spot she gave Mrs. Winship a poised wave and announced, “Mrs. Winship, I have some important things I need to discuss with Jamie, so I’m going to sit back there today if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course, Ms. Kingsley. Just make sure you do it around the morning show not during.”

“Yes ma’am! How could I possibly interrupt Riley’s show?” And with that, Trixie grabbed her seat from her usual spot, which was by Lia, Hails, and the Candies and brought/dragged the seat right between Jamie and Marshall. “Hi sweetheart, I hope you don’t mind me sitting here.” Trixie beamed at her darling friend that would defend her in a heartbeat before bringing her attention to the one with the answers, “Jamie, do you want to talk now or later? I just have some club stuff to go over.” The latina put a strong emphasis on club, which would hopefully show him that she was downright lying and that there were other matters she wanted to discuss.

[Hey Im Jordan]

_{Location: The Lyon Residence —> Dreamland —> Owen’s Car —> Homeroom
Featuring: Owen Lyon, Troy Lyon, A Double
Interacting with: Wyatt @smarty0114
Mentions: Trixie Kingsley @Lovely Complex}

---

---

“I was thinking I might leave.”

Silence. Pure, deafening silence. What had he expected? ‘Oh, sure, son. Run away from your problems. That’ll solve everything.’ Owen took a deep breath, and rather than wait for his father to respond, he pressed on confidently. An air of confidence, whether truly there or not, was the key to having a successful conversation with someone who considered themselves above you.

“I was thinking Spain. Grandpa has a villa there, I think some time away would be good for me.”

Owen carefully watched his father’s face, eyeing how the older man’s expression shifted slightly, growing more incredulous with each word. This was going well, totally. So well. So perfectly well. Owen took a deep breath and continued his cautious pressing of the subject.

“I would go on independent study, so my schoolwork wouldn’t be interrupted. I could still graduate on time, I’d fly back for that. I know mom is really excited about that…”

Owen trailed off and looked at his father, finally giving Troy the moment he needed to process what his son had said, while they sat on the porch and enjoyed an early (very early, it was barely six) morning bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. Troy crunched his final bite, and slowly drank the milk, eyeing his son over the bowl the entire time. Owen was dying inside; his father was one of the few people left who intimidated him into respecting them, and it made conversations like this stressful, to say the least.

“Don’t you already have a Spanish girl?” Troy asked, and Owen’s lips twisted and formed into a scowl, his eyes instantly growing darker as his father reopened wounds that were very much still healing. “Too soon, I guess? Grow up, Owen. You can’t run from your problems, and you can’t be driven by your anger and your hatred and your sadness. I don’t think your mom would let you go anyway, because she couldn’t bear to be that far away from you, but… even if she does: I’m vetoing it. You have to see this through, man. You can’t run forever, not from this. You have to see it through.” Troy smiled sadly as Owen’s expression morphed again from one of anger and frustration with his father, to one of a genuinely upset young man. “I know it sucks. I know it does. They lied. She didn’t trust you and she put someone else before you, after you gave her, well… pretty much everything you’ve got, but you have to see this through, you can’t run from this one.”

“But this isn’t fair.” Owen protested in a soft voice so unlike the strong, confident one he typically spoke with.

“Agreed. But it’ll get better. Give it time, time can heal all wounds. Maybe you won’t get back with Trixie, maybe you shouldn’t. I don’t know. We thought you two were forever, really? Like, all of us. Me, Wolfe, Izzy, your mom. Even most of the other moms did… So I don’t know what’s going to happen there. But you can’t leave without an answer, right? You gotta know why. There’s no real solution here, other than to wait and hope she figures something out on her own. You can’t go on an all out offensive, if Hailey is anything like your mom, you’ll turn into what I was in high school — and we don’t want that. High school sucked for me, and I even knew the truth: that very little of what happens in high school matters in the long run. And no, you can’t do what Gabriel would suggest and roll up on them and pop the trunk.” Troy paused and shrugged, giving Owen a chance to respond, and Owen took it before it disappeared.

“Thank you. For not telling mom and her friends. I think if they got involved, it’d get worse for everyone and I don’t want that. It means a lot, that I can trust you with stuff like that. And I’m glad you believed me, that I didn’t do that to her. Why… why Trixie doesn’t see the truth I don’t know. I’ll see it through.” Owen sat down the bowl of cereal and nodded to himself, almost as if to give reassurance that this was the right move. “Thank you. Again. I can’t stress enough how nice it is to know that I can talk to you about this and… and not have to worry about it. I love mom, but she gets too intense. Too emotional. I couldn’t tell her any of this crap, she’d lose her mind.”

Troy shrugged his shoulders and what he said was simple enough, “You’re my son. Of course you can —” What he had said may have been simple, but the reaction it elicited was anything but. Owen had very suddenly wrapped his arms around his father in a tight hug, and Troy reciprocated it (you didn’t get many hugs from teenagers). Troy gave his son a few pats on the back and they stayed in their embrace for a few seconds, before Owen pulled away. Troy stared at him for a second, before shaking his head, “You’d better get going, if you’re gonna pick up A Double.”

“Oh, shit. I did say I’d do that…” Sighing, Owen turned and headed toward the garage where his car was parked. Troy picked up his son’s bowl and called out after him.

“Hey, don’t beat on that Marshall kid too hard! Dude’s like a lil lamb!”

“Oh, fuck off!” Owen yelled back at his father as he jumped into his car. The Aventador roared to life, and Owen pulled out, heading down the long, winding driveway.

Meanwhile, in Dreamland

A Double had a bit of a love for the classics, yeah? Old video games, old mountains, old movies, old shows… just, old stuff. Like, really old stuff. Past vintage, past retro… A Double dug antique shit. Which, was why he was sitting in the living room, in front a custom built CRT TV, playing on an old Nintendo 64 that had a sticker on the back declaring it property of Westworth High. A Double wasn’t sure of the details, and he didn’t really care exactly, but his father and Jareth had stolen it from the high school they’d attended or something?

Not important. What was important was that he was in the last breaths of his PERFECT run of Super Mario 64. All he had to do was ace the final boss fight against Bowser, and all would be well. He had a stack of waffles at his side, which had been much taller before he’d started playing, but was now down to about three, well three and a half. A Double snatched up the half a waffle and crammed it into his mouth, chewing it before he grabbed Bowser by the tail and spun that motherfucker like a bat out of hell (his palm would be in pain later), and launched him into the final bomb.

“I DID IT!”

A Double looked to his left, holding up his hand for Wyatt to high five. Then he frowned when he remembered Wyatt wasn’t there. Then he turned to his right and held out his fist for Raf to bump, and then frowned more when he remembered Raf wasn’t there either! Then, he looked at his lap to give Q a kiss and… he felt his heart drop when he realized she wasn’t there either. “Man, I forgot… I ain’t got no friends here!”

A Double blew a raspberry and stood up, leaving the screen on the last letter from Princess Peach, intending fully for his friends to come over and see it, before he shouldered his backpack and grabbed another waffle, leaving the last two for Max. Then he went to the front porch and plopped down, waiting for Owen to show up so he could drive him to school. Could A Dubs drive himself to school? Of course he could, but he didn’t like driving cars very much, especially not on roads. Too many rules.

A Double withdrew from his inner jacket pocket a joint he’d rolled last night with a new strain that Ana and Malcolm had engineered. He was excited! He held it in his lips and lit it. Puff, puff, exhale. Puff, puff, exhale. Whoa… that was good. A Double took a couple more hits and then dabbed at his now misty eyes with the back of his hands, looking up to note that Owen was pulling up in his bright red Aventador.

Meanwhile, behind the wheel, Owen looked over at A Double as he walked toward the car, noticing he was crying. Now, with this dude, it could be anything, but after popping the trunk for A Double to toss his backpack in the trunk, Owen prepared himself for the worst. When the door opened, he spoke quickly. “What’s wrong, dude?”

A Double sniffle-coughed (it was really pretty goddamn ugly), and tried to compose himself before speaking to Owen, “thank God, for my reefer man. This shit g^ood,” A Double replied, his voice cracking a little bit at the end as he puffed again, before blowing the joint out and carefully storing it in his jacket pocket again, “I gots to save some for Q. This shit’s too good, man!” A Double wiped his eyes and Owen sighed as he threw the car into reverse, spinning it around so he could head out the way he came.

A Double took almost a minute, to compose himself, before finally spoke. “Can you hit the drop top? I know this thing got the robo-roof.” Owen looked over at A Double, raising an eyebrow behind his black sunglasses, before he reached out and hit the button. The cars top automatically stored itself in the back, and the boys could feel the cool morning air hit them. They pulled out of the Dreamland driveway and onto the highway… “How fast this thing go, anyway?”

“Two ten.”

“No WAY. Hit it, dude! Wait, hold up.” A Double hit the bluetooth button, pairing up his phone, and hitting play on the song.

Owen shook his head, but slowly pressed the accelerator in, the car’s engine revving up as he did so. Owen shifted the car from second to third, then from third to fourth, and kept it there for a second, coasting down the straight away at one hundred miles per hour. A truly irresponsible teenage rmove. “Early in the morning!~”

“Risin’ to the street, light me up that cigarette! You got it. Sing it, my dude!” A Double was all smiles, as Owen did indeed belt the song.

“Got to find a reason, a reason things went wrong! Got to find the reason why my money’s all gone! I got a dalmation, and I can still get high. And I can play the guitar like a motherfuckin’ riot!” As Owen sang, A Double reached out to pull the passenger side sunblind down, and a few hair ties and a pair of sunglasses tumbled out onto his lap. “Bow now, wow no— Hey, motherfucker! Quit fuckin’ with shit!” Owen hit the button to cut the music and A Double frowned, realizing he’d killed the mood.

“...is this Trixie’s stuff?” A Double asked slowly, looking over at his sort-of cousin. Owen nodded. “Why do you still have it? ...do you still love her?” Owen didn’t respond, and that silence spoke volumes. A Double chose to press on fearlessly. “...does it hurt?”

“_{Every day of my life.} It’s all I can think about. She used to like, live with me. So she has a bunch of stuff here, and a bunch of stuff back home. It’s still, to this day, cold waking up without her there. Which is stupid, because she like sucked my body heat from my body. But at least she was there.” It was Owen’s turn to wipe his eyes. He gulped, and A Double chose again to gently press further.

“Why don’t you give her her stuff back?”

“I guess I’m hoping she’ll come get it herself. Maybe then, if I have that time with her, alone, I can explain things. But it doesn’t matter. I already know how it would end: poorly. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should give it back to her. It hurts, it burns, it stings. Don’t fall in love kid.”

“Hrm.”

Owen, noticing that he’d seemed to cause A Double to fall uncharacteristically, decided to ask a question of his own. “What’s her name?”

“Q. Quincy. Jennifer, actually. But she likes Quincy more. She used to be Hailey’s friend.”

“Right, her. Good luck, dude. I think you guys will do well together — plus, that’s not really surprising. Thought you two were already dating...” Owen pulled into his typical parking spot and put the top up, popping the trunk so they could get their things. He looked at the small pile of things belonging to Trixie that A Double had unceremoniously dumped on the seat… Owen took a deep breath and looked at A Double. “I’ll catch up. Is it cool if I sit with you guys?”

“YEAH! Totally, dude! I’ll see you there.” Immediately, A Double’s jump was back in his step, and Owen gathered the things that belonged to his ex; the woman who still had his heart. He threw them into an old bag she’d left in the trunk forever ago, and tore out a piece of notebook paper.

Can I
Trixie
I suck with words
Please
Come ba
Call me
I miss yo

Owen took a deep breath, looking down at the paper with different scratched beginnings on it, and ran a hand through his hair, before putting the pen back to his paper.

Follow your heart.

— Kitty

There. That seemed good.

Wait, one last thing. Meticulously, carefully, Owen put pen back to paper, drawing a heart beside his signature, filling it in with the blue pen he’d written it with, before deciding that was as good as it going to get.

He just had to hope her heart was in the same place as his right? In classic Owen fashion, he left the scribbled out attempts at beginning a letter there, and stuffed it into the purse alongside all of Trixie's belongings. Owen held the purse in one hand, carefully, very carefully, almost as if it were a bomb, and headed through the empty halls (class had already begun, huh? Oops.).

He stopped at Trixie’s locker… 24. 5. 12. Click. It opened and Owen carefully sat the bag in there for her to find, before closing it shut and heading to homeroom (where it seemed he was pretty much the last arrival), where he took a seat across from A Double and Wyatt at the stoner table.

Staring at the people he’d only exchanged a few words with in the past, Owen cleared his throat. “Hi, I’m Owen.” He offered, sticking his hand out for Wyatt to shake.

Underneath the table, A Double was discreetly playing footsies with Q. She had asked him for their thing to be private, but he wanted to do SOMETHING. The other couples got to be cute. This worked, for him.

[smarty0114]

_{Location: Homeroom
Featuring: | Wyatt | Owen | Quincy | A Double |}

Wyatt, in all of his stoned glory, turned away from Q and over to the new arrivals, Owen and A Double. Owen extended his hand and introduced himself to the scrawny young stoner, a move that Wyatt almost laughed at. This kid really thought that they hadn’t heard of him. Sure, the Burners often found themselves to be the Switzerland of school politics, but that didn’t mean they weren’t in the know. In fact, one could argue that the reason they were able to hold such a protected status was because they were in the know. If A Double and the Hailstorm weren’t tight they’d probably be just as much a part of her game as the rest of them.

Wyatt grinned, partly because he was stoned, partly because he liked meeting new people, and shook Owen’s hand enthusiastically. ”Dude, I know who you are. I’m Wyatt,” he said, his voice raspy, but no less friendly.

Meanwhile, across the table, Q was rolling her eyes at A Double’s newest guest. Did she mind A Double being friends with everyone? No. Did she mind him being friends with some of the people who arguably tried to ruin her life? Yes. A bit. And sure, Owen got screwed over by Hailey and her sluts too, but that didn’t make him any less innocent in the witch hunt that had brought Jennifer crashing and burning. Granted he had orchestrated that party, or at least he’d been involved. Plus, according to the Weekend Warrior, he hadn’t been too keen on letting Hailey and her minions into the party.

Quincy didn’t have much time to ponder over Owen’s arrival at their side of the classroom, due to the sudden pressure she felt on her foot. Oh my fuck. A Double is playing footsies with me. Oh my fucking fuck. Secret! One fucking secret is all I ask! she thought before looking over at her...person, and shot figurative lasers from her eyes, praying he would get the memo. Have you ever thought about why you want to keep it such a secret? Maybe you’re still hoping you can win your way back into Hailey’s good graces?” Quincy thought. Well, more like the nasty voice in her head, but in a way, that was Quincy.

“Oh… yeah. I’m kinda school famous now, huh? Weird how basically committing a hate crime does that.” Owen said, before letting go of Wyatt’s hand and smiling as best he could, which was… awkward to say the least. Owen was awkward. He was, like… really awkward. But he wanted to try and make friends, and A Double’s group was the most accepting group of… well, anyone in this godforsaken place.

A Double turned his attentions to Quincy when he felt her glaring daggers at him, and his foot rather instantly retreated to his side of the table and he gave her a sad look, even puffing his bottom lip out a little bit. “Uh… I got you something in my jacket, Q. For later. And, I want you and Wyatt to know that I beat Mario today. Well, I mean, I played as Mario. And I beat Bowser. But I did it!” While his voice was as happy as ever, A Double’s eyes were sad the entire time he spoke, still staring at Q. He decided then and there that he didn’t like being a secret.

Quincy hated feeling guilty. She tried very hard to let everything roll off her shoulders, but the fact of the matter was, guilt sat in her stomach, and gnawed at her insides, and begged to be dealt with. And right now, Quincy felt guilty. WHY CAN’T I JUST BE SANE? she mused, chewing on her lip as her hand slowly began to gravitate upwards, towards her blonde waves. She didn’t like this. Feeling bad because A Double felt bad. And feeling bad for feeling bad. And...feeling in general. This was strange, uncharted territory. She hated it.

Looking over at A Double she offered him what she hoped was an apologetic smile. She could never figure out video games, nor the appeal behind them, likely due to too many years caking her face in make up instead of Dorito dust, but she knew A Double liked them, and that’s what counted at the moment. ”That’s great! Right?”

Wyatt, for the most part, was oblivious to the inner conflict of Quincy, and the external conflict of her and A Double. However, the moment A Double brought up Mario, he was all ears. There was only one type of shrooms he liked more than the illegal kind, and they weren’t portobello. ”Q, of fucking course that’s good! Perfect run?” he asked, clearly excited by his friend’s accomplishment.

Owen seemed taken aback that both A Double and Wyatt seemed equally happy about the video game accomplishment, and he bit back a few snide remarks, taking a deep breath and turning his attentions instead to Q, deciding to strike up a conversation with the girl that A Double had more or less confirmed he was falling in love with. Again, he held out his hand, again very awkwardly. “Hi, I’m Owen.”

Luckily for Q, A Double’s was busy with Wyatt now, temporarily over their brief spat about the footsie thing. “Yeah, it was totally awesome. All 120 stars! But I think I can do better next time, or at least like… faster. Maybe if I’m less high when I start…”

Q turned from A Double to Owen the moment his hand extended towards her. She narrowed her eyes, just slightly, studying the hand and the boy it belonged too, before slowly extending her own to meet it. ”Quincy, but I guess you always knew me as Jennifer. You can call me Quincy now. Guessing you aren’t as infatuated with the Mushroom Kingdom as these two?” Quincy asked, smirking. She was going to try and be nice, for the sake of A Double, and her morals. If she could get a second chance with the Burners, why couldn’t Owen? Because you hate him and he helped ruin your life? Oh. Yeah.

Wyatt grinned at his best friend. ”My dude, weed only improves performance, everyone knows that. The problem here is you didn’t have Wyatt Durand by your side,” Wyatt said. He had known A Double since kindergarten, and since then they’d been nearly inseparable. Especially when shit with his dad’s started being too much, he basically started living at Dreamland. A Double was his best friend, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything. He was there when everyone else wasn’t. And sure, his dad’s weren’t his biggest fans, Elton downright hated him, but who cared. They hated everything Wyatt did anyways.

“Yeah, I know! I looked to my left, and you weren’t there, then I looked to my right, and you weren’t there, so I looked at my lap so I could give Q a kiss and she wasn’t there! Total bummer, man.”

Q froze mid conversation with Owen, her face red with embarrassment. This wasn’t how she wanted to tell people. And she realized then, that yeah, she had wanted to tell people. Just not. Right. Then. She turned to A Double and took a deep breath through her nose, her jaw clenched tight. There was a rush of emotions going through her head right now, she couldn’t handle it. It wasn’t that he’d just spilled the beans. It was that she’d asked specifically for him not to spill the beans. And he had anyways. He hadn’t told Wyatt in secret like she’d assumed he would. He announced it to their entire fucking homeroom. Before she could explode she stood up, her chair scraping against the linoleum floor, and grabbed her bookbag, storming out into the hall, trying her best to keep from screaming and crying and punching a locker.

Wyatt on the other hand, while just as shocked, reacted much differently. He sat in silence while Quincy had her episode, but once she’d stormed out, he gave A Double a look, the one that every boy gives their best friend at some point in their relationship. ”So like...did you guys pipe?”

“Dude, I JUST told you to be careful!”

[smarty0114]

_{Location: Homeroom
Interacting With: | He Who Shall Not Be Named @Silent Observer | Trixie @Lovely Complex}

Anyone who’s ever had a crush on someone can tell you exactly how horrendous it is to get over said crush. Not the normal way, wherein the intense desire you once had for said person slowly fades away until you finally realize that they’re quite a bore, and actually have a weird set of eyes. No, the hard way is what comes about when you are forced to get over said crush as soon as possible, mainly because you’ve just found out they have a secret boyfriend or are a closeted racist. Jamie was currently going through the hard way.

Of course Josie chose today of all days to dance in fucking homeroom, and of course, Marshall felt the need to join her. And of course, he was very, very, very fucking good at dancing. How the hell was that kinda shit even legal? Jamie was seated quietly, nose buried in a ratty old book, trying desperately to keep his eyes from drifting over to where Marshall and Josie were practicing. Eyes on the book dumbass! he scolded himself, to no avail.

Jamie wasn’t particularly used to romance, or really any crushes in general. He had liked boys from time to time, but never anything as consuming as this. And he wasn’t a stranger to relationships, hell, he’d dated a few girls back when he was still in the closet, but he’d never had anything extremely serious. He’d never even kissed a boy. And now, here he was, hopelessly swooning over some dude who maybe, probably, for sure had a boyfriend that he was keeping a secret from everyone. Because surely, there was no other explanation? Right? I mean, no one just sits in a random closet and talks.

At least the swooning had been a gradual thing, that much Jamie was grateful for. It would be embarrassing to just see someone and instantly fall in love. This wasn’t a Disney movie. Sure, Jamie had seen Marshall and thought, Hey, he’s cute but he didn’t fall head over heels. That came over time. Specifically, it came over a forty five minute period, an interview Marshall gave Jamie about the musical. He was confident, and charming and fuck. Jamie was still swooning.

Why hadn’t he done anything right then? Asked him out right after the interview? Because Jamie had somehow ended up with some deep seated fear of rejection. Sure, his parents had loved him, and raised him the best they could, but somehow along the way, he’d gotten a bit fucked up, and he wasn’t sure how to fix it. Maybe it came from years living in the closet, maybe it was a chemical imbalance in his brain, or maybe it was divine intervention. Whatever it was, it sucked.

Jamie was pulled from the solace and solitude of his thoughts by the sudden change in music, followed by Marshall...twerking. Literally throwing his ass back. His ass. The gay equivalent of just shoving your pelvis in someone’s face. Jamie’s cheeks burned and he turned away, but like any malevolent force, the universe wouldn’t give Jamie a break.

Marshall took the seat right next to Jamie, forcing a smorgasbord of emotions through the young journalist’s mind. Among them, anger, anxiety, and a strong sense of lust. Before Marshall could get a word out though, Trixie barged in between them, asking for a word with Jamie about what she said was club stuff, but clearly wasn’t club stuff. This ought to be good. Jamie gave a pointed look at Marshall, his face stone cold. ”Oh yeah, I can talk right now. It wasn’t what it looked like,” Jamie said, turning to Trixie and grinning, despite the pang in his stomach, the unfamiliar pang of guilt.

[LovelyComplex]

Location: The Auditorium's basement
Interactions: Riley _{@Lovely Complex} & Brynn _@melissahart;; Ft. Owen _@Universorum

---

---

Rushing to the basement of the auditorium, where Riley throughout the past two years spent a lot of time, effort, and diplomacy, to transform the storage space into the set of The (Norman’s) Morning Show: RISE, Riley tried his best to clear his mind of his encounter with Trixie. Moments ago, he downright embarrassed himself in front of an IT girl. Not just any IT girl, the IT girl that had her toes in all club affairs. Social suicide right then and there.

Just... kill him now.

Those who have been at the school during Riley’s time, have seen the show grow in not only looks but also content, since there wasn’t really anything before Rye came into the picture. He started off simply talking on the intercom in the mornings and using the radio station during his free periods, including lunch. That didn’t last long when he tallied the amount of listens within the first month and came to the realization every room has a television for educational purposes.

Why did the broadcasting club only have a radio show that hardly any student tuned into, even if they all could find the link to the broadcast via the school’s website? That was the thing! The radio was optional and… no one went on the school website unless pictures of some dance was uploaded to the gallery page.

Lightbulb.

Why not make a daily show? A daily show during a time where the students aren’t too preoccupied with anything besides waking up. HOMEROOM. Yes! He already did the announcements, he could spice it up and throw in surprises, give the student body something to talk about that wasn’t… the same-o same-o (the war in the halls). Game shows! Debates! Hilarious lip syncing battles! Lessons! You know, giving the kids food for thought so their school day isn’t a total loss. Fun & Games with a twist.

Edumacation.

On top of that, Trixie has been helping him expand it by having a partnership with the journalism club, which has far more respect from the teachers than most clubs. The newspaper is full of stories and some of the interviews that get published, she thinks could be explored further in a visual presentation. So long as he keeps the power of hosting, he will kiss Trixie’s ass as much as she wants. She convinces the higher ups to bump up his club’s budget. He ain’t complaining.

And one thing that she recently made happen was…

Panting and out of breath, having ran from one side of the campus to the other, Riley went to the center of the set to meet up with his new co-host(ess). Why don’t you have someone at your side? It must be a lot of work doing this by yourself. I don’t think you’ve ever taken a sick day. PLUS, if we give you a co-hostESS, you might be able to attract a certain audience better. Just imagine! RISE, starring Riley Wells and Brynn Payne. An unexpected, dynamic duo! The school’s next big craze. The entertainer and the trendsetter!

“Sorry for the wait!” He huffed.

Brynn was perched on the edge of one of the couches, gazing into her compact and fixing her makeup. This wasn’t the first time she had meandered down to the basement of the auditorium (it was on her famous “fool-proof hookup spots” list) but it was the first time she was here as the co-host of the morning show. Trixie, being the good friend that she was, pulled a few strings to get her on the air, as she knew it would look great on her college applications. But, Brynn grew impatient as she checked her watch for the eighth time. Riley was supposed to be here five minutes ago and she had issues with people who didn’t have their watches synchronized with hers. Time was of the essence and if he didn’t believe that, this was going to be an interesting partnership.

Hearing Riley come in, the fatigue clear in his breathing, Brynn continued applying mascara as if nothing had changed. “For the future, you should know that one of my pet peeves is tardiness.” Looking up from her mirror she smirked. “But, I forgive you. Thanks for letting me come on the show.”

With a blank stare, Riley didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he looked at her for a moment and then went to surveying the area. Not caring about her position in the hierarchy, since really the only person at the top he remotely cared about was Trixie because of what she’s done for his club, Riley strolled to the camera, checking to make sure the battery was full, before replying in an unconcerned tone, “For the future, you should know that… I really don’t care about your pet peeves.”

Unlatching the camera from the tripod, internally wondering where the fuck A Double was, Riley smirked right back, with the same amount of sass, possibly more, “Listen, Brynn, the main reason why I agreed to this is because you’re hot and our school is stupidly simple. They’ll drool at you the moment you’re on screen. This, right here.” He gestured at the entirety of the basement, “Is something I worked my ass off to build. If we’re gonna work together, you better leave your candy self out with Lia. I care about this show, a lot. I am not going to have you, one, tell me how to run things, like you’re better than me, and two, have you FUCK everything up.” Not many people saw stressed Riley because not many people cared to know him on a personal level. Brynn simply caught him on a bad morning… he wasn’t havin’ any of this I FORGIVE YOU, shit. “And yes, if you’re wondering, I’m NOT in a good mood.”

Brynn rolled her eyes, knowing very well the only reason why he actually let her on the show before he even mentioned it. As the saying went around the school, “No Payne, no gain.’; her reputation spoke for itself. “Well aren’t we off to a great start.” She stood up, placing her compact over in her knapsack and looked over in Riley’s direction. What the boy didn’t know was that she had real aspirations, wanted to make a name for herself in the broadcast industry. But, she let him have the benefit of the doubt, as most people didn’t know she sometimes desired to be more than the school floozy, and went along with his assumptions.

“Let’s make a deal. I’m not here for politics, I’m not here just to look pretty on camera, I’m certainly not here to fuck this up for you. I walk in here, and I’m just Brynn. Not Candy Brynn, not “kill count 20” Brynn. Just Brynn. Okay?” She stared at him, an eyebrow raised as if she dared him to say something else.

Riley was thrown aback at her response. So there was more than what meets the eye with this one. Her reputation does precede her, and he didn’t necessarily care enough to look deeper into a girl who shares herself with the entire football team. But perhaps that made him wrong in this scenario. “Deal.” He would forfeit this conversation, but FIRST. He approached her with camera in hand and offered his free hand to her, “And I’m just Riley. Not only ‘Trevor’s brother’.” Handshakes were good business closers, right?

Brynn took his outstretched hand and shook it firmly. “Trevor, who?” She joked.

Just then, the door opened. Now, the door opened in a way that did not, in anyway, resemble the normal third member of this little shindig. Where A Double would gently push the door open, and hold the knob turned when he closed it so as to make the least amount of noise… the door flew open, left hanging open by the intruder, who definitely was not A Double.

Instead, it was Owen.

Owen stared at Brynn, and stared at Rye, and gulped. This wouldn’t be so bad. Run a camera. He could do that. He walked forward to Rye and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Owen. Alan — er, A Double, wants me to do the camera for him — cuz he’s havin’ a moment. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

Oh jesus.

This was going to be one hell of an experience. Releasing Brynn’s hand, Riley focused his attention on the new person, who made quite the scene days before and was on the headliner of the Weekend Warrior. After one awkward instant, and a quick glance at his wrist watch for the time, Riley’s eyes widened - shit, they need to start filming. Placing the hefty camera in Owen’s hand, Rye nervously smiled, “Just… act like you know how to work the camera, for my sake. We’ll have time for intros later, follow me and when I say action, you’re clear to record.” And with that, Rye sped walked past him, grabbed the lav mics that he’d hook on Brynn and himself as they got into position, and out the auditorium door he went. Did he tell them his agenda of not filming on set? Nah… he probably should’ve prepared for this segment more (but it was the first day after vacation - give him a break). He heard his phone ‘ding’ which was most likely a text from the other club members in the master control room beside the set, that most definitely watched him go off on Brynn, giving him the greenlight to start the show.

Today was off to a great start.

[Hey Im Jordan]

_{Location: The halls, near the lockers
Featuring: | A Double | Quincy @smarty0114 | @Universorum}

---

---

Oh shit, ohhh shit.

Maybe Owen was right, maybe this love stuff wasn’t all it was cut out to be. He’d said one thing, and Q had sprinted off like he’d told her she smelled funny! A Double was sweating now, and he stood up to rush after his girlfriend (hopefully she still was, anyway), but then he paused as he had a sudden realization. He was supposed to do the camera work for Rye! That was important! But Q… Q was more important. But he couldn’t just shirk on his duties! DAMN.

A Double turned his attention to Owen briefly. “Can you run Rye’s camera for me? Thanks, bye!” Without waiting for a response, A Double tore out of the classroom after Q, seconds behind her. Once he had sights on her in the hallway, he sprinted, yes, sprinted, to her side and grabbed her wrist, pulling her so she stopped and looked at him.

“Uhm… Q…” A Double realized that he was having trouble figuring out what to say… He stared at her in silence for a few terrifyingly long seconds, trying to decide what he wanted to say, and then he realized that there was only one option: action.

A Double dropped Q’s wrist from his grasp and instead put a hand on each of her cheeks, leaning down and pressing his lips against hers.

Q hadn’t gotten very far when she heard the door to her homeroom slam open, the sound of A Double following her no doubt. She was angry and scared and needed to hit something and she couldn’t figure out why. Why was it so hard for her to just take the training wheels off and go into this relationship like a normal girl? Was she mad that A Double couldn’t keep their secret or was she just mad that people knew now? Maybe the truth was, Quincy didn’t like feeling commitment to any one thing since her dad died, so she sabotages everything. That’s why she fucked with Hailey and it’s why she was fucking around with A Double.

Or maybe she just didn’t love A Double. Or maybe they weren’t meant to be. Or maybe, or maybe, or maybe. Q’s head was rushing with thoughts when A Double found her, spun her around, and this time, surprised her with a kiss. She was shocked at first, but then she realized she wasn’t under attack, and melted into it, softly returning the affection he showed her. Okay, well the kissing is definitely not the problem here, Quincy thought.

After what felt like a lifetime of bliss, Quincy pulled away and took a moment to stare deep into A Double’s eyes, before biting her lip and looking down at the ground. When she looked back up her eyes were wet as she fought back tears. ”I’m sorry, I just...I don’t know what I’m doing. And I like you and I care about you, and making out is really fun, and I’m just losing it. I don’t know how to do any of this, I’m not sure who the hell I am half the time!” Quincy explained, her voice cracking and rising as she fought back the flood of tears, her mouth spilling everything that her brain sent it’s way, stuff she hadn’t even thought about herself.

A Double nodded after she spoke. Really, his mind was still racing in a crazy attempt to figure out what to say! This wasn’t easy, which he should have suspected after Owen basically said ‘relationships suck.’ He reached up and wiped one of the tears that escaped her eyes with one of his fingers, and he gave her a smile. “You’re Quincy, duh. You’re my best friend, and my girlfriend. You’re also Jennifer, though, so it’s kinda confusing sometimes. I think in your head you’re stuck between being two people and like, it’s really hard for you to choose? Cuz, you do get to choose who you get to be, you know! You should just be who you want to be. Be the best parts of Q and of Jennifer, and make someone else. You just… uhm… don’t be afraid of it.” A Double paused and considered how to phrase his next words.

“Of, uhm, love. Don’t be afraid of it, because like… I’m not going anywhere. And, you might not really remember it, but you already… said it? That you love me. So it’s not a big deal.”

Q leaned her forehead into A Double’s chest as he spoke, her eyes trained on her combat boots. When A Double was finished she looked up at him and chuckled, a chuckle that soon turned into a full on laugh. ”You are so much smarter than anyone gives you credit for,” Quincy said, intertwining her fingers with his and leaning in to kiss him again.

When she pulled back she was grinning, a light in her eyes that hadn’t quite been there before. ”Okay, let’s do this. You like me, I like you, let’s do the whole relationship thing. I’m terrified, I want you to know, but...I want to. I need to,” Q said, smiling.

“Great! Me too. Great. Good. Now I don’t have to feel like a secret, too, which is good… I have a joint in my jacket pocket. It made me cry. So I saved most of it for you.” A Double explained, happy that they had crossed the major hump of the day, and happy to move to lighter subjects. “We should get back to class, too! Or we’ll miss the show. Owen’s doing camera work for me, cuz I had to come check on you! I was scared.”

Q grinned, the foolish type of grin that she’d experienced too much on New Years Eve thanks to all the alcohol, and was now experiencing due to the sudden family of butterflies that had taken up residency in her stomach. She liked this. She did. And yeah, she was still scared. But she wasn’t ever not going to be scared. She took a deep breath and began walking with A Double, hand in hand towards homeroom, still grinning like an idiot. ”Oh, well we’d never want to miss the show! Rye and his thrilling announcements such as, ‘Here's what garbage you have coming up this week!’” Quincy teased, smirking slightly as she rested her head on A Double’s shoulder and realized that for at least this one second, all was right in the world.

[Melissa]

---

---

Location: The Halls → The Lobby
Interactions: Riley _{@Lovely Complex}, Brynn _@melissahart, & Owen _{@Universorum
With two special guests.}

---

---

Mrs. Winship grabbed the remote and aimed it to the television above the board, “Settle down, kids. Riley’s show is about to begin.” First, with the remote, she dimmed the lights, then she turned to channel 9 because for some reason that was the channel the school’s master control room was connected to. The memorable, yet outdated, 15 seconds opener played with the same timelapse shot of the Los Angeles sky, above the school, that had the sun coming out and the title of the show being ‘written’ in the clouds: Rise: The Morning Show. Once the Norman sigil was in the picture, beside the text, it was time for the segment! Right when the opener would normally transition to the set with Riley sitting on a couch the screen unexpectedly went black.

Meanwhile, in the hallways of Beverly Hills High, Owen was having a hell of a fucking time figuring this thing out. Holy shit, this camera had more buttons than a fucking proper keyboard. Uhm… WHY COULDN’T IT JUST BE GREEN AND BIG AND EASY? Owen started pressing shit, and the feed appeared on the other end, in an off aspect ratio. “Okay! No, okay. I got it. I got it! Action! Go! Godspeed?” Jesus, this was impossible. A Double sucked. Owen looked at the little screen attached to the camera, noticing that it looked fuzzy. “Oh, motherfucker,” he grumbled, fiddling with a few settings, before… finally, mercifully, the show’s live feed was the way it was supposed to be: glorious 4k resolution, focused on the two anchors.

“Now action. That’s what I’m supposed to say right?” Owen had no idea that the camera had happily picked up his very word. Oh well.

Hahahahaha. Riley was dying on the inside but the show must go on. The kids would get a kick out of this at least. Unlike his normal show, Riley chose that for the start of the New Year, he would change things up. Behind him and his co-host was a mural painted by one of their fellow students, but it was hardly visible since the camera was zoomed in on its subjects. “Rise and shine, Beverly Hills High! It’s your host, Riley Wells. And you know, on this show, I like to entertain, but I also like to inform because I want you to leave your homeroom thinking, huh, that just happened and talk about it for days. He paused and watched Owen from behind the camera, not knowing how this actually looked to his audience, “Before I go into the happenings, I gotta’ tell ya something.” Cooly, and like he wasn’t having a panic attack before the red light went on, Riley side stepped closer to the fine human display next to him, “It’s a New Year! And today marks the debut of my co-host. Ladies and gents, this show is no longer just mine. Please welcome Brynn Payne!”

Brynn gave a small wave to the camera, a large smile plastered on her face. “How’s it going BHHS? My name’s Brynn and I’m thrilled to be joining Riley this semester in bringing you the latest and greatest each and every morning.” She exclaimed, an excited glimmer in her eye. She then proceeded to turn to her co-host. “Sorry to take your spotlight Rye, but I thought it was about time this show got a fresh face instead of your ugly mug every day.”

“Sheesh, could she be anymore into herself? I don’t get people… Hey, what’s this do?” Owen, still fiddling with the camera, tapped a button, then looked at the preview pane, which now showed the two hosts under the effects of a sepia filter. “Oh, crap how do I turn that off? This sucks!” Owen started smashing the filter button, going through the different options, until he landed on what he felt was the normal one. There, that’ll work. In reality, the colors were a little sharper than normal, but that was good enough for him.

Yeah, everyone will be talking about today’s show for days, for sure. Riley couldn’t help but chuckle at Owen’s words, knowing very well the audience heard it. Focus, Rye. This is your show. “You think people will be looking at your face, Brynn?” A jab right back atcha, babe. With a cheesy grin, Riley winked at the camera and then continued the show, “I don’t know how much you can see behind me, but this piece of work was painted by none other than Ilyana Powers!” Hopefully, Owen zooms out.

Owen did not.

“And she’s part of the art club, photography club, and fashion club! No, Rose, I don’t stalk you. I’m just advertising. You should consider doing it too--” While Riley talked, Brynn motioned to Owen to zoom out so he could get the whole mural in the frame. Kid couldn’t operate a camera to save his life. “--Both the art and photography clubs have a showcase at the end of the semester, while the fashion club is known for their annual show! Expect some of the members to hunt you down to be their model.” Owen stared at Brynn for a few seconds, wondering what she was on about. Was he not doing a good enough job? Jesus christ. Then he looked at the screen again…

“This thing doesn’t zoom itself out! This cost like ten thousand dollars! Motherfucker…” Owen looked around the camera, searching for a button, or a dial or… something. Eventually he found it, and the screen jerked backwards instead of the smoother transition from someone like A Double, but… it got the job done. They could see the damn thing.

Brynn began to talk, and as she did so, she walked- no scratch that- strutted down the hall towards some of the club bulletin boards. “If you’re not the next Annie Leibovitz or Van Gogh, consider joining the school newspaper! Talk to BHHS’s resident southern belle Savvy Matthews if you’re interested, cause their first meeting is today. If writing isn’t your forte, stop by the drama club!” She thought she was talking a little too fast, nerves were coursing through her veins, so she took a deep breath in order to complete her thought.

“The dance committee will be meeting tomorrow to start planning this year’s senior prom- don’t forget about the Sadie Hawkins dance coming up later this month! ” Brynn had forgotten about it until this morning, and still had no clue who she was bringing. Her mind flipped to Sean, but she stopped herself before her thoughts got too out of hand. Stop thinking about him, Brynn. Focus.

Owen, who was getting bored with all of this camerawork nonsense, tapped his foot and bobbed his head to music that only he could hear. “Shorty get down, good lord, baby got ‘em open all over town, strictly biz, she don’t play around~ Cover much grounds, got game by the pound, gettin’ paid is her forte, each and every day, true player way~ I can’t get her out of my mind. Wow.” Looking at Rye without stopping his song, he tapped his watch. ‘How much longer, jesus christ?’

Riley decided in this moment that this segment would not be in his portfolio. Fuck it, this was already a hot mess! Who cares how the rest?! “You see these trophies right here. Though, I don’t know if you hear me over our camera guy’s voice, yeah. Sports is pretty big here--”

“I like the way you work it, no diggity, I got bag it up — WAIT WHAT? They can hear me!? Why didn’t anyone tell me?! You SCUM.” Halfway through the chorus, Owen’s eyes went wide, and he seemed more surprised by this than anything else so far. Great, now the entire school had heard him sing. Yay.

_“Owen!” Brynn made the ‘cut it out’ motion with her hand, speaking sternly under her breath telling him to be quiet. “Anyways, football tryouts are today! Led by captain and junior Damian O’Connor, he’ll lead our Normans to-”

Before anymore words could be said from this odd trio, a loud slam could be heard down the hall and a spirited woman’s voice echoed down the halls, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” The natural impulse in Riley was curiosity and to see the face behind the voice, so he gestured both Brynn and Owen to--

Brynn was three steps ahead of the boys. In an agile spy like fashion, she walk/ran down the hall towards the screeching voice. She lived for this kind of drama, and she had a feeling that this was going to be something good.

When they all reached the lobby of their school, Riley stopped in his tracks, watching from afar. That was… Damian’s mother. “His father is going to kill him!” Her strawberry blonde hair flowed gorgeously, her skin was soft, kind of angelic, and she wore a summer dress with a thin cardigan sweater, but everything about her was on fire.

Owen spun the camera around (rather well, actually, there was a decent pan before he put it on the two women that were coming in), and then he yelled at Melody, his mother’s best friend. “Mel! Beat this kid’s ass! He let me sing in front of the school!” Owen complained, pointing at Riley. What? He couldn’t beat Riley up. Dude was soft, he’d probably break him. Melody could though, and given her current attitude, hey. Maybe she would.

Oh shit. Attention was brought to them. However, even with Mother Melody making her way to them, Riley was distracted by the person that glided in… almost ominously.

Ebony hair, pale skin, an ensemble that was completely black, a raven. A woman that reminded him of an older version of… Hailey. Unlike Melody, this woman, every step she took brought chills up his spine and the way she held herself was like she was out of this world. When was the last time one of the Greens, that weren’t Henry or Hailey, came to the school grounds? Evelyn was her name and she didn’t say a word but she did wait for Melody to finish her business so that they could go to the office together.

“Owen, you know who’s ass is going to get beaten? MY SON’S.” Marching straight to the camera, she growled at Riley, “Is this on? Broadcasting to everyone?”

Looking over to see Riley pale in the face, no response coming from him, Brynn jumped in to reply a little nervous, but trying to seek the opportunity to catch some live drama. “You’re on air and the whole school is watching live right now….Care to say a few words?”

“Don’t you distract her! Get him! Beat his ass!” From the way his mother had spoke, Owen had been under the impression that Melody was much easier to get to do things… She seemed to be having a small panic attack though? What happened to Damian?

“How dare you, Damian Erick O’Connor.” Melody’s rage was past the point of seething. Oh no, she was in explosion mode and her eyes were glaring at the lens (and for some reason the members in the master control room were still airing everything). “A small get together? A SMALL GET TOGETHER? At MINE and your FATHER’S beach house?!” Should they be calming her down? Probably. Were they?

Probably not.

“Well, baby, this small get together got you kicked off the damn team. Oh, and, you’re grounded.” And with that, Melody stormed back to Evelyn’s side. If there was one thing about this woman, she was extra. And yet, Riley was still staring at the Green, who looked back at the three recording, her stare as dark as the clothes she was wearing -- but still, she kept silent.

“That was today’s show everyone…”

Black screen.

[Hey Im Jordan]

_{Collab: Brynn @Melissahart
Location: Homeroom ---> Vending Machines}

---

Sean was comfortable! It was exciting, he’d never been comfortable at any type of school function, not class, not training exercises… it was always keeping proper posture, giving respect to the people in charge of whatever he was doing, and being a good soldier. This was different. This was relaxing, this was comfortable.

Sean had escaped to a table all his own, stressing with his sister that he planned to rest. Most hopefully, no one would bother him, and he would get a quick nap in. Sean was currently resting his head on a book, with his phone on his desk and one of his headphones in his ears, playing the soft theme music of the TV show he was watching.

Sean closed his eyes and pulled his hood up, singing along softly. “Scooby-Dooby Doo, where are you?” He yawned, and shifted a little, getting comfortable. No, he could totally sleep like this. What was Selena on about earlier?

Brynn had just successfully finished the morning broadcast, and was slowly making her way back to Mrs. Winship’s class. Homeroom wasn’t her favorite part of the day, so she tried to miss as much of it every morning as she could. The broadcast took up a good portion of this time, which helped, but the final minutes of the period were always spent in the classroom on the outside of everyone’s conversations, Brynn having missed discussing all the major gossip about the night before. Even though she loved her friends, it always made her feel sort of out of place walking in during the end of their gossip sessions.

Strolling into the classroom, Brynn walked over to Winship, handing her the usual ‘late’ pass from the broadcast room, and made her way over to the other Candies. Before she sat down, however, she noticed a blob of a person curled up on a desk, hood over eyes, trying to nap. His blonde hair peeked out from underneath the fabric, so Brynn could tell it was definitely Sean.

She walked over to the boy and delicately tapped on his shoulder, not too much to scare him, but enough to get his attention. “Didn’t sleep well last night?”

It was enough to rouse Sean from his cat nap. With an undeniably bitter look in his eyes, Sean pulled his hood back and took out the headphone, looking up at the offender. When he saw that it was Brynn, his expression softened some. Not a lot, but some. “What? No, I just like to sleep, and Selena told me we could do what we wanted in this class, so I did it: sleep. What’d you wake me up for?”

The look that Sean was giving her made Brynn take a step backwards, nearly causing her to walk into the desk behind her. Looks could kill, and it certainly seemed like Sean wasn’t too happy with her currently for waking him up. “Wow, right to the point, I guess...” Brynn replied, opening her tote bag and rummaging through her books and pens for what she was looking for. As per her strict ‘no strings attached’ policy, “thou shalt not keep the clothes of thy suitors”, so Sean’s shirt she borrowed from the other day would have to be returned. Finding it, she grasped it in her hands, holding it for maybe a moment too long, and then extending it out to the blonde boy. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Sean stared at the t-shirt for a few seconds, then looked at Brynn, then back at the shirt. Then he looked at his phone, still playing the old cartoon. Then, he turned his head back to Brynn, his look once again sour. “You woke me up for that? Come on, man. I gave you that to keep, not so you could give it back to me.” Sean sighed and reached out, but rather than take the shirt away from her, he pushed it back toward her. Women were impossible! “If I wanted it back, don’t you think I would have asked for it…? Plus, you looked comfortable. I thought you liked it.”

To keep? No, no, no, that went against everything that Brynn stood for. No strings, no attachments, no shirts. “No please, take it back, I insist.” She tried reasoning with Sean, but when he pushed it back into her hands she sighed. Damn, this boy clearly hadn’t done his homework on her, Sel probably left Brynn’s famous kill count out of her “History of BHHS” lesson to him. She’d have to find some way to slip the shirt into his bag without him noticing. “Oh, well um… okay fine.” Brynn replied, feigning defeat.

“Okay, good. Because I don’t want it.” Sean stated, glaring at her. With his eyes, he almost challenged her to bring it back up again, but… she didn’t. Now satisfied, Sean sat straight up and pulled his hood down, letting his blonde hair be free for all to see. “Take me to the vending machine, Brynn. I’m hungry.” He stood up without waiting for a response, swiftly stuffing his phone and his headphones back into his pocket, and waiting for her to lead him out of the room.

Brynn raised an eyebrow at his request, more like demand. Did this kid have any manners? Please She muttered for him under her breath. Plus, why wouldn’t he want his shirt back? There was something off about Sean, and Brynn was going to find out what it was. “Yeah, sure fine. It’s this way.” motioned towards the door, and as he walked in front of her, she stuffed the shirt into his bag when he wasn’t looking.

Catching up to him, she led the way out into the hall, and to the left, towards a smaller hallway, where the vending machines sat. “Here ya go.” She gestured, leaning against the wall with her foot propped up behind her for balance.

Sean reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet, opening it and looking at the bills. Then, he looked at the vending machines. “Stupid vending machine, doesn’t take twenties. Who carries things that aren’t twenties?” He grumbled, before stuffing his hands in his pocket. Finding nothing, Sean went so far as to turn his wallet upside down and shake it in frustration. The rain of bills that followed was excessive, but ultimately revealed something he wanted: the holy grail. A five dollar bill.

Sean bent down and picked up the stack of twenties that had fallen down, stuffing them back into his wallet. Then, he grabbed the five dollar bill, flattening it a bit against the edge of the vending machine before letting it go inside of the machine. “You want anything? I just want chips and a Gatorade. I really like Gatorades. They weren’t approved by my old school, so I’ve not really had them before I came back…”

“I’m alright, thanks.” Brynn replied, pulling out her phone to begin texting, but stopped when Sean mentioned his old school. This was the perfect time to ask about it. “That sounds a tad harsh, Gatorade is quintessential for any high schooler. Sounds like your old school was very different from here.”

“It was different than all schools. It was a boarding school, for a specific trade? Like, college prep, sort of. It’s hard to explain. Not important, either.” Sean explained, pulling out his Gatorade and bag of chips, He stuffed the chips in his jacket pocket and turned the lid of the Gatorade, sipping at the sweet nectar. “You wanna know something weird? Everyone just refers to Gatorades but color, not flavor name. Isn’t that strange?”

“I mean you could try to explain it-” Brynn started, but when he said it wasn’t important, she didn’t want to force the issue. The girl had seen his temper before and did not want to agitate him too much. She’d just have to ask Selena later. “Yeah, it’s really strange, I agree.” Brynn replied, looking down at her phone to see the time. “We should probably get back, the bell’s gonna ring soon. We wouldn’t want you to be late on your first day...”

Sean sipped from his drink. “I have a better idea.” He paused briefly, then he smiled slyly at her, “What if we just hooked up in a janitor’s closet instead?”

Looking up from her phone, Brynn couldn’t help but smirk, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “I couldn’t say no to that even if I tried.”

[Kitty]

---

Warning: Mentions of Physical Abuse

---

The sun rose over the horizon, shining through the fresh dew in the field of grass next to Fawn’s house. Making the grass shine as if every blade had its own personal crystal, a beautiful view she lived for. Across the field she could see the forest where the morning’s light rays were finally breaking through the leaves as a light fog rolled across the ground just adding to the beauty of her view. Staring at the view allowed her to escape from her current pain as she sat with her legs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped gently around them.

_{“Your angry face is all I see
Your hand ready to strike my face
As I put my arms up
To protect myself from your harm
I don't know what I did wrong”}

In the field she saw a butterfly fluttering around, the light reflecting off its beautiful orange wings. The small girl wished she could become the butterfly and just fly around like it did. Explore the world and escape hers. But she knew it wasn’t possible, for now Fawn had no choice but to deal with the hand she was dealt in life.

_{“All I said was no
And your hand come flying at me
Your hand is left on my face
I don't know
If this was to teach me
Or if this was just your anger”}

With a small sigh escaping the girl’s lips she grabbed the shoes that were sitting next to her and slipped them on before pushing herself up. Fawn then gently pulled on a big, baggy cardigan that covered the whole length of her arms successfully also covering a single dark bruise on her right bicep. It was only one of a few bruises she had currently, she had been getting lucky recently. Her parents too distracted with their business that they didn’t notice the things she did ‘wrong’ in their eyes as much so she wasn’t as bruised as she has been before.

_{“Your mouth is all I see
Your words hit my ears like bullets
I plug my ears
Just to erase it all
But I still hear the cursing
It stings into my heart
And I don't know
I don't know
Who I am”}

Fawn began her walk to school, she had left so she had enough time to take it slow. Enjoy the sights and not overdo it. On her way there she took a bit of a break looking in through the window of a pastry shop wishing she had money to get something but she didn’t so she eventually got moving again. Her mind wrapped up in thoughts of sweets and pastries and how good they will be when she can finally afford to spend some money on them.

_{“I don't know anymore
All I know is
I am a girl left in ruins
I am a girl without feelings
I am a girl without love and hope
I am a girl who was destroyed”}

Eventually she arrived to the school over an hour later pausing to stare at the entrance. Entering the school and making it through the halls were always a bit hard for the girl. It had to do with the fact Fawn was so small and silent that she went unnoticed or people didn’t care if they pushed her around which just made it very difficult for her to get to her locker and classes. Taking a deep breath, the tiny girl put on her determined face, which looked a bit silly on her, and began her walk to her locker. It took about six minutes but eventually she got her stuff out of her locker and began the trek to the homeroom classroom, which took another six minutes despite being right down the hall.

A bit out of sorts, her hair slightly messy from people just pushing her around, Fawn made her way to the table she usually sits at with Henry, Min-seo, and Parker setting her stuff on the table before sitting down. She pulled her whiteboard out and set the marker on it before pulling out her math homework and staring down at it. She had only remembered she had it during her walk to school and now she had to complete it during homeroom, which seemed impossible to the young deer as math and her did not get along unless the math pertained to something within chemistry. She tried to remember what the notes given to her by the teacher said, what she read of the teacher's lips during the class, and what her special tutor 'told' her during her class that is specifically for kids with something that is hindering their learning. Unfortunately her head was drawing a blank so she simply stared at the paper hoping something would come back to her.

[Melissa]

_{Location: Homeroom
Collab: Josie @Kitty and Savvy @melissahart
Mentioned: Trev @Silent Observer}

---

---

The dance party ended leaving Josie without the ability to dance without possibly upsetting Mrs. Winship again. That meant she needed to find another way to occupy her time and it just so happened to be that her favorite redhead was sitting not too far away writing. Picking up her stuff Josephine made her way over to the table Savannah was at, setting her backpack on the floor and turning a chair around before sitting down and crossing her arms over the back of the chair, resting her chin on her arms.

“Hey girl!” She exclaimed looking to her best friend with a smile, “How’s my favorite redhead?” The two hadn’t seen each other since the party but Josie had texted her and told her she needed all the deets about what happened between her and Trev after Riley had announced she was just Trevor’s type at the party. Which reminded her that she’d need to bother Trevor about the same topic later, but for now her focus was getting all the information she could from her bestie.

Sav had been sitting in the same position for the majority of the period, writing down everything she could possibly think of in her notebook for her next feature in the paper. Things were either written legibly, crossed out aggressively, or written in penmanship so messy that the mere sight of it would make her mother cry. When Sav wrote, everything else seemed to fade away, leaving just her, the pen and the paper. She was so engrossed in her words that she didn’t notice when her best friend sat down in the chair across the table, her face nearly inches away from hers. It wasn’t until she spoke that Savvy jumped, nearly flying from her seat and onto the tile floor. The redhead laughed, gaining her composure once more. “Oh hey, Josie, didn’t see you there! I was just trying to pull together some ideas for the newspaper meeting later today.” Savvy smiled, closing her notebook and placing her pen gingerly on top. “What’s up?”

“Well I came to see how you were, but now I’m more interested in what’s going on in that head of yours since you were so engrossed in writing. Might you have actually been writing about a certain boy?” Josie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at her friend with a wide grin etched on her face. She leaned in and nudged the redhead with her elbow gently. “Come on. It’s time to spill. I’ve had to wait too many days for all the deets on what happened at the party.”

Savvy blushed a deep shade of crimson, looking down sheepishly at her notebook. “It’s nothing really…” She replied, brushing some of the hair that had fallen into her face back behind her ear. But it was far from nothing. If she was being honest with herself, what had happened at the party had been replaying in her head over and over since it occurred. It certainly wasn’t nothing. “He talked to me, Josie, he actually talked to me. He even knew my name!”

The grin faded into a simple smile as she watched and listened to her friend. Oh how little her friend knew about just how much she was noticed. Savvy was one of Josie’s few girl friends so she was around guys a lot, especially in the JROTC, and she knew Savannah was being noticed by them. Hell, she’d already threatened an idiot freshman for speaking not so innocently about the red head. But Trevor was different, Trevor was definitely one of the nicest guys at the school and she could see Sav and him working well together.

“Of course he did Sav. Who doesn’t know your name by now? He’d be a fool to not talk to you and even more of one to not know your name.” Josie’s voice grew softer as she got a bit closer, “Now what did you two talk about. Don’t leave me hanging girl.”

“You say that, but somehow I don’t believe it. I’m just the new girl from Texas; small fish, big pond. How could everyone know my name?” Sav replied, having a hard time finding truth in her best friend’s words. Switching to the next subject, the redhead couldn’t help but grin, “He was so genuine. We talked about food, favorite drinks, and we talked about football and the new season- he said I should totally come to the games and he’d really like it if I did.” Sav smirked at the memory of the night’s events.

She opened back up her notebook, leafing through it to find the page she had been writing on, which was chock full of ideas about a possible feature on the football team. “I figured if I went to their first practice today, I could write a big article about the upcoming season, but I don’t even know what I’d say to Trevor if I went. I feel like complete gibberish would come out of my mouth if he looked in my direction or said anything to me. Not that he will.”

“Well you know I’ll go with you if you want me to, of course when I don’t have work. Plus you’d get to see him more and he’d see you more, which is what I think he wants Sav. It sure seems that way.” Josie grew silent and watched as her best friend began to flip through her notebook then talk about her article idea. This brought a bigger smile to her face, her friend was seriously too sweet and innocent. These two definitely were made for each other though, Josie was going to help her two friends. It was decided.

“First of all he will look in your direction. Second of all, he will speak to you. Third of all, you are going to the practice even if I have to carry you there. Why not make a list of questions to ask so you always have something to say during the supposed interview about football. Then once you’ve become more comfortable you can just begin to talk to him normally. If you want I can go with you and be there in the background as support.”

Savvy’s eyes lit up when Josie mentioned a list of questions. A laugh escaped from her lips as she realized her own stupidity. After all, she was a writer, and questions were all she needed to piece together an interview. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She scoffed to herself, a little stunned that her daydreaming had removed all common sense from her brain. Flipping to a fresh page, she wrote down the first few questions that came to her mind. It wasn’t until Josie mentioned she’d accompany her to the practice that Savvy sighed in relief. “That would be so amazing. You’d really do that for me?” Sav asked, a little stunned that her friend would take time out of her busy schedule just to make sure she didn’t make an absolute fool of herself. That was true friendship right there.

“Of course I would Sav. You’re my best friend, so why wouldn’t I do it. I’m sure the girls would love not having dance practice after school anyways, I sure would…. I’m not done with the new routine yet. So really you’d be doing me a big favor by letting me come with you.” Josie spoke a bit sheepishly, she was supposed to finish the routine by today but she had a few more formation to finish and was currently procrastinating. Although she’d still help her friend even if she had practice. In her mind, friends always came first.

“You’re the best, Josie.” Sav reached across the table taking her best friends hand in hers, genuinely appreciating the gesture. “So I guess I’m doing this. I have no way to get out of it, do I?” Although she pretended to want to escape from the situation, Savvy couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of talking to Trevor later today. But what would he say? Would he actually want to talk to her? “Are you sure this is a good idea? He may not even remember what happened at the party, we were drinking after all.”

Squeezing her friend’s hand reassuringly Josie shook her head. “Nope. You are doing this. No ifs, ands, or buts. I will carry you there if needed.” Listening to her friend ramble out her worries she rolled her eyes at the Sav playfully, “Darling, this is a great idea. He is definitely going to remember you and what happened at the party. If he doesn’t I can also hit him in the head for some mental recallibration.” Josephine grinned at her own joke while looking at Savannah, the two were opposites in quite a few ways but that’s what makes them so perfect as best friends.

“Okay, fine, I’ll do it. But make sure you’re ready to smack him on the head if I walk up to him and he looks at me like I have five heads.” The redhead giggled, pulling her hand away from Josie’s to grab her pen in order to put it to the paper, beginning to think of some more questions in order to not look like an idiot. “You’re so good at talking to guys, how do you do it?”

“I highly doubt he’ll look at you like you have five heads if anything he’ll see you and faint from your beauty.” Josie feigned fainting, putting her hand to her forehead and leaning back in her chair. “Too much beauty! I can’t handle it!” She exclaimed before letting out a giggle, covering her mouth as she did so.

Leaning back forward she rested her head back on her arms staring at her best friend before letting out a noise that was mix between a ‘tsk’ and a laugh at Sav’s question. “See I’d say confidence was key but if a guy ever talked to me and showed the interest in me like Trevor is with you... I would probably lose my voice and panic. I’m only good at talking to guys cause they all just kind of see me as a ‘bro’, as they put it. It doesn’t help that my dad scared away the first guy who ever gave me a chance freshman year and now my father’s reputation precedes me, I won’t lie though. He is a scary man so I don’t really blame guys for being scared of him.” Josie shrugged, “That doesn’t matter though, our focus needs to be you and Trev. I expect to be godmother to the beautiful redheaded babies.”

Sav laughed out loud at Josie’s fainting act, so loud that some of her peers looked over in confusion. She calmed herself down, a few giggles remaining, with a smile spread across her face. ”You are by far the most confident person I know and you seriously don’t give yourself enough credit for it. I hear what the guys say about you, they think you’re a catch and I bet you could have your pick of the bunch if you wanted.” Sav sighed, knowing that Josie’s good looks and confidence were a winning pair. In regards to the godmother comment, the redhead shushed her best friend, raising an eyebrow at her remarks. ”Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch, please. That’s a little too far into the future to discuss, so let’s just focus on this afternoon before we get ahead of ourselves.”

Simply ignoring her friend’s comment on what guys thought of her, as she didn’t believe it was true, Josie smirked. “I’m simply speaking in regards to the inevitable. Adorable red haired babies plus alot of what goes into making said babies.” She teased winking at Savannah. “But for now we can focus on this afternoon. One of your questions should be asking him to the movie showing this Friday, it would be great seeing you catch him off guard plus adorable with both of you turning as red as your hair.”

The redhead’s eyes widened in a slight panic. “No, no, no I couldn’t ask him to go on Friday. Not only would that catch him off guard, that would catch me off guard.” Sav replied anxiously, fiddling with her pen. “The entire school is going to be there and I doubt he would want to go with me instead of his friends. Besides, I thought that you and I were going to go together? I can’t just ditch you like that.”

This time it was Josie’s turn to grab her friend’s hand. “Look Sav, darling. He’d be lucky to get the chance to go with you, it would be a great time for you two to get to know each other better. In regards to us going together, I would be fine with getting ditched this time. Hell, I am encouraging you to ditch me for this boy, girl! I can always find someone else to go with like one of the dance girls or I’m sure Audrey would love to have me pick up an extra shift. Or I could do the stupid military workout with my dad like he’s been trying to get me to do with him forever, probably not… I don’t really feel like hanging around with a bunch of men my dad’s age…” She shrugged before squeezing Savannah’s hand. “What I’m trying to say is I will be fine and that if you don’t go with him I will force you to go together by tying you both together. The JROTC has made me very efficient with rope tying skills.

Sav tried to think of a good excuse to convince Josie that this was far from a good idea, but no thoughts seemed to come to her mind. The worst part was that she knew Josie wasn’t kidding about tying them together part, and this wouldn’t be the sexy 50 Shades of Grey type of rope tying either. There was no escape.

Desperately trying to think of something, she began to speak- more like stammer- but luckily, a loud noise rang through the classroom and a smirk popped onto Sav’s face. Saved by the bell… Packing up her journal and pen and quickly zipping her backpack shut, she smiled at her friend. “We can talk about it more later, but I’m really hesitant about this. If only I could know what he was thinking… Anyway, I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Of course, lunch sucks if we don’t sit with each other… just the memory of the day you were gone gives me chills..” Josie shook slightly a sound of a shaky breath to make it seem like she got cold all of sudden escaping her lips. “See ya then girl!” She waved goodbye to her friend before looking for her next target… Trevor.

[Grimoire Gaming]

_{Collab Featuring: Trevor Wells@Silent Observer & Damian O'Connor@Universorum
Location: Mrs. Winship’s Homeroom}

Today started like any other day of highschool had started so far. Trevor had woken up, went for a morning run, showered, put on a casual Under Armour polo and jeans, ate breakfast with his dads, and then drove to school with his brother. The usual routine. What made today unlike most days was that it was the first day of his last semester of high school, which actually had him feeling a little bummed out. What if he was one of those guys who peaked in high school? So far he had had a fantastic time at high school: decent grades, great baseball career, good football career, all while maintaining a healthy social life. Sure, he could have used a little more excitement in the romance department, but… he was even working on that now!

The redheaded jock walked into homeroom with a lot more on his mind than his potential southern belle lady friend or even the classes for that day. He considered whether he would be applying to college, joining the Navy, or submitting an application to the LA Police Academy in the upcoming weeks — because the time frame for making such decisions was quickly approaching an end. If he was really following his heart, he was leaning more towards the last option, even if most people didn’t consider being a cop to be the most glamorous profession. Sometimes you have to chase a passion, and Trevor thought that he would make for a good police officer — a public servant, a positive role model, and potentially a hero.

Wearing a somewhat serious countenance due to his current mental ponderings, Trevor sat down beside his best friend. Damian looked equally as distracted, not even offering his usual greeting when Trev joined him. Regardless of the boys being rather quiet, the rest of the homeroom seemed to be abuzz with chatter and… dancing, of all things. There truly was never a dull day at Beverly Hills High, Trevor was certain of that.

“You alright, man?” Trev asked, looking his friend over with concern. Before Damian could respond, Mrs. Winship requested that everyone quiet down to watch the morning announcement show. Trevor loved watching his brother on screen, you could really tell that he was passionate about it and Trev knew how much the show meant to Rye. The show was, however, off to a rough start, with the camera being off-center and out of focus. Odd. Maybe A Double was too high to run the camera properly, that wasn’t out of the question.

The crew seemingly got their act together and Rye began with a cheerful greeting. He seemed nervous, but that could be attributed to it being his first day back in the hot seat after break, nothing big. Trevor watched as Brynn was introduced as a co-host, which he had known about ahead of time, so it came as no surprise. And then the unexpected happened. Brynn essentially called his brother ugly in front of the entire school, and Riley reacted to it. To add to that, he continued to be snippy with both her and the cameraman. Trevor squinted his eyes at the screen… that was very unlike Rye.

“I think something’s wrong with Riley. Something must have happened.” Trevor mused quietly to Damian. And then the unthinkable happened. The proverbial shit hit the fan in every way possible. The camera went sepia. Owen was loudly singing behind the camera — at least he was pretty sure that was Owen’s voice. Damian’s mom showed up. Trevor hung out with Damian enough to recognize Melody by the shrill tone of her voice when she was upset. Oh, this was bad. This was very bad. And then it got even worse. Did she just say cut from the team?

Trevor was sitting in stunned silence as the screen went black. No way. That would be crazy. Impossible. He hazarded a glance at Damian. “That’s not true... right?”

Damian responded, but his voice was weak and almost sounded more like a whimper than his normally strong willed, almost happy-go-lucky voice. “Uh, no man. It’s true. It’s all true, actually. Also, I have detention indefinitely, and I’m supposed to be on the dance committee. And now, to top it all off, I’m grounded.” Damian explained, nodding as if to reassure himself that: yes. This is your reality now. “So, uhm… good luck with tryouts? I guess. And, with whoever takes over for me…”

There was no hiding the pure and utter shock on Trevor’s face, not that was he even attempting to hide it. He just listened and gawked at Damian’s words, his mouth forming a comical ‘O’ shape. The shocked expression quickly turned into one that seemed genuinely offended, as his red eyebrows stitched together. “What? How? That’s absolutely ridiculous! They can’t do that.”

“Well, I guess they can. And they did! So, just a friendly reminder: don’t have fun. Ever.” Damian ran a hand through his short hair and considered his options. Did he have any? Not really. Mom was right, his dad was probably going to kill him. How was he going to follow in his dad’s footsteps if he couldn’t even stay on the team? “I guess I can drink bleach, huh? That’s always an option. It’d be better than this cursed existence. I don’t even know what I’m gonna do! Football is like my life, and you know that. I don’t really… do much else.”

“This is all over the party? It’s not like you were responsible for the whole thing, where’s everyone else’s punishment? A lot of us planned it, hell, my dad catered it.” Trevor said in clear frustration, which wasn’t a side of him that many saw off of the field. He chewed at the edge of his thumbnail before speaking again, and then shook his head. “That’s… awful. I’m so, so sorry, man. What can I do? I can get the guys to boycott, ya know, take a knee or something? Did… did Coach actually talk to you yet?”

“No, not yet. I bet he will soon, since mom just screamed it to the world… But, you don’t have to do that. You guys should keep winning! That’s important. Also, they didn’t just get me, they got Henry taken out too… I dunno where he is, but I think he got it worse since every Friday he has mandatory in-school suspension now.” Damian explained, helplessly shrugging his shoulders. This was game, set, and match. There was no play, there was no way to get out of this, other than to grin and bear it while it lasts. “Maybe it’ll be lifted before the season’s over… or hopefully before next year, but then you’ll be gone anyway! So what’s the point? You’re my best friend, I don’t know if I’d even want to play if you weren’t on the team with me!”

Trevor was all but pouting now. This was sad as heck, man. The boy’s well-defined shoulders sagged in defeat as he sat back in his seat. “I know the feeling, dude. This is my last semester on the team, and I don’t know if I wanna— no. That’s a lie. I do wanna play. I’m gonna plead with the coach, and if that doesn’t work right away, I’ll go for captain and keep your seat warm for you. Because you’ll be coming back.” Trevor said, nodding confidently, as if that would improve his chances.

“Well, at least one of us is confident. My dad is gonna kill me. Wanna come to dinner tonight? Maybe together we can take him.” Damian sat up a little straighter and wondered if his mother was right. His dad had that dad strength! He could probably still slap Damian around, no matter how strong Damian was. But Trevor was a big motherfucker. Maybe the two of them could handle things… maybe. “To be honest, I don’t know if the coach is gonna be able to do anything. I doubt he’s gonna be happy I got the boot. I bet he goes ballistic, dude.”

“Good! I hope he does, because he should. This is injust, none of it happened anywhere near school grounds, and it wasn’t even during the school year.” Trev felt his cheeks coloring red as he got worked up over it again. He breathed out a calming sigh and then nodded. “Yeah man, I’ll totally join you for dinner… after tryouts are over. Whatever you need, Damian, I got you. Always.”

Damian held out his fist for Trevor to bump, and a weak smile formed on his face.

With Trevor’s help, tranquilo could be restored.

[Silent Whispers]

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Location:
► Saunders Residence ► Driving ► Beverly Hills High ► Homeroom ◄
Interactions:
Mentions:

Dominica woke up to her phone dinging from the group chat she's apart of and her Instagram feed was literally on fire. About a week ago, she threw another birthday bash, which was also her official going away party at Buckley's gymnasium. People were still raving on and on about the party that she had threw and how much they missed her and were going to miss her from Buckley. Dominica felt appreciated and loved from her peers while hoping that the students of Beverly Hills High were exactly the same way, which some were but others weren't, so far anyway.

She was already up and about, moving around with her cellphone practically glued to her hands. Dominica scurried herself to go and get ready before her mother, Dominique, came into her room with her annual hurry up and be ready speech. She had showered, brushed her teeth and then got dressed before she went over to her vanity mirror then sat down, putting on light touches of makeup and lip gloss. Dominica heard a light knock on her door as it was Esmeralda, letting her know that breakfast was ready and her parents were almost downstairs. She thanked her for the heads up as once she was finished, she grabbed her Michael Kors purse and stuffed her cellphone inside it as she exited her room then made a trek towards the stairs.

There, she was met by her father, who greeted her with a very lively good morning and Dominica laughed then gave him a good morning back. Dominique was at the dining table already as Dominica looked at her father, Norman, with a raised brow. Dominique greeted them both and they returned the favor as Dominica sat in front of her and beside Norman. Esmeralda served them their breakfast as they said grace then grabbed their forks and knives, even placed their napkins in their laps and started to eat breakfast.

"So, people are still talking about my party." Dominica stated as her mother eyed her with a smile forming among her lips. "That's good. I told you that you'd leave your mark at Buckley. Now you just have make one at Beverly Hills." Dominique happily replied as Norman shook his head at the two then asked a question towards Dominica. "How did your month go at Beverly Hills anyway? Dominica shrugged her shoulders at the question then looked towards her father. "Alright, I'm assuming. I'm still there, aren't I?" She bluntly said as Dominique eyed her then looked at Norman. "She does have a point there." Dominique said in agreement then shook his head again. "I'm not even going to argue with two queens before me, your majesties." Norman joked and even added a bow as Dominica gasped, rummaging through her purse and grabbed her cellphone to look at the time.

"Oh, my goodness. I do not want to be late so I must leave now." Dominica stated as she dropped her phone back into her purse and placed her purse around her wrist. She kissed her mother and father goodbye individually then waltzed by the table beside the door and grabbed her car keys and continued onward towards the outside, getting inside of her vehicle now. Before she started up her engine, she sent out a text to the group chat. From there, she dropped her phone into the cup holder and was now on her way to the local high school, Beverly Hills High.

The campus was literally a few minutes away from The Saunders Residence, which was a good thing in her case because she did like to be early. When she arrived on campus and parked in the parking space assigned to her, Dominica shut her engine off and got out of the vehicle as she stood with her head held high then closed the door behind her. Her heels clicked with a force as she walked on the paved road and onto the campus now then eventually inside of the building where her locker was situated. She made a quick and brief stop, only grabbing her spiral notebook, black binder and her pink mechanical pencil along with her pink glitter pen.

She closed her locker and turned heel then headed towards the homeroom classroom. Dominica was almost the first one there but the loners and nerds were already in there, which caused her to groan slightly. She sat in the middle of the classroom then gazed at the doorway as people started to flutter into the classroom now. She had already been introduced to the class and most people talked to her, too. Dominica listened in, more like eavesdropped, on a few of the conversations going on around her. In her mind, the clique system had similarities to the one at Buckley but was also very different. Dominica pulled out her cell phone and started to scroll through it as she waited for class to begin or someone to talk to her first.

[Melissa]

_{Location: The Jones' Residence ---> BHHS Parking Lot ---> BHHS Rooftop}

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The incessant and never-ending ringing of an alarm woke Topher from his slumber. It was early, too early to be clamoring out of bed, and yet, he was. In Toph's opinion, the Winter break had been cut too short and he needed at least another week to pull himself together and get back into school-mode. Running a hand through his chocolate brown hair, Topher stumbled over to the bathroom and turned on the shower as hot as it could go. After all, there was an abundance of hot water in the tanks due to the fact that his parents hadn't been home in days. Or at least that what it seemed like.

Peeling off the clothes he had worn the night before (he hadn't bothered to change into pajamas), Topher hopped into the shower, letting the boiling hot water and steam cleanse his body and mind. It seemed like he stood under the stream of water forever, letting the pressure hit his back and his chest while his mind grew blank. With no incessant thoughts running through his brain, he could just breathe for once. Toph flipped off the faucet and grabbed his towel.

After pulling on a new set of clothes, including his signature leather jacket, the boy made his way downstairs to the kitchen, where- surprise, surprise- he found himself on his own. Walking over to the fridge, he pulled out a carton of orange juice and drank straight from the spout, not bothering to get a glass. Besides, he was the only one who drank it.

“Christopher, what have I told you about drinking straight from the container? You’re going to get someone sick.” He mimicked in a higher pitched voice what he imagined his mother might say regarding the habit. “Sorry mom, it won’t happen again.” Returning the carton to the fridge, he grabbed his guitar case and made his way out the front door, locking it behind him (even though he knew that no one would come in after him).

Hopping onto his sleek black motorcycle, Topher begrudgingly started making his way to BHHS. At this point, he could’ve just dropped out if he wanted, since no one would notice if he was gone, but if he wasn’t going to college, he knew it was kind of important to get at least a high school diploma. Pulling into the parking lot next to a gaggle of girls, Toph revved the engine for dramatic effect before turning off the ignition and stepping off of the bike.

“Ladies,” He nodded to them, like a cowboy would tip his hat, and swaggered into the school, listening to the giggles and chatter that followed.

Although he was supposed to be in homeroom, Toph had made the executive decision at the beginning of the year to only go once a week- and that day was not today. Walking right past Ms. Winship’s room he made his way over to the stairwell, flinging open the door with no hesitation, and climbing up the stairs to the roof. Perching himself directly against the fenced barrier, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with his Zippo.

Today was going to be a long day.

[Kitty]

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Mini Party Flashback

Pushing through the crowd of people back to the deck, Matthew could feel his heart racing. He could not believe he had just done such a stupid thing with so many people around, it would be close to a miracle if no one saw and them. And if someone saw the two kiss, it was only a short time until the whole school knew and then the whole community and then his whole church and finally his parents found out. Oh boy, if his parents found out. Life would only get worse for him. They told him that if it happened again that he’d be sent to an asylum next and probably wouldn’t get to see freedom again.

Yes his own parents threatened such a horrid thing. Most people would probably believe he was exaggerating if he told them but he wasn’t in the slightest bit. Matthew’s parents would not tolerate such a ‘sinful feeling’ from their son. Constant talk of the devil being involved occuring at almost every meal. The eldest Archer sibling’s only escape was that of his sister, who seemed to be missing as of right now.

When the blonde reached the deck, he climbed onto a chair and looked across the sea of people only visible by the bonfire. He was lucky to spot the girl he was looking for standing not too far from the bonfire with her camera up to her eye, taking pictures of the fire and party. With a small wave of relief washing over him, Matt once again made his way through a crowd of people until he reached his sister.

The sound of Matthew’s quick steps pulled Miriam out of her photography trance just in time for her brother to grab her arm and begin pulling her to where they parked.

“Hey Matt! What’s the big idea. We aren’t leaving until I-” Miriam stopped talking once she saw her brother’s face and quickly sped up to keep up with him, the two making a B-line for Matt’s car. “You better tell me everything once we get in the car!”

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Location: School --> Back of School
Mentioned: Topher_@melissahart

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Matthew had told Miriam everything when they got home the night of the party. A part of her was excited that her brother had found a guy of interest but the other part of her, the much bigger part of her, was given fuel for the growing flame of hatred towards her parents. It was their fault he couldn’t be true to himself, their fault that since the party he was nothing but a depressed mess when his parents weren’t around.

Their parents, if they could even be considered that, had turned Matt into a shell of the person he used to be and only continued to make it worse. So Miriam was going to do something about it, something to get the attention off her brother. She wasn’t quite sure what it was going to be yet, but she had been wanting to turn against her parents for awhile now and the party events only pushed the desire further. Miriam would just need to brainstorm a list of ideas later during school.

Speaking of school, the siblings were currently pulling into the parking lot. When Matt parked the car he said nothing as he grabbed his backpack and got out pulling his hood up on his jacket. Miriam quickly scrambled out of the car, her camera around her neck, tea in hand, and backpack on her back as she ran to catch up to her brother. The two walked in silence going by Matt’s locker then too Miriam’s where she watched her brother out of the corner of her eye as she put her stuff away.

Making her mind up as she looked at how pathetic her brother looked right now, Miriam stuffed her backpack in her locker and shut it looking at him as she leaned against it. “We aren’t going to homeroom.” She stated causing Matthew to look up at her with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about Mimi?” Matt asked incredulously.

“You look too pathetic to go right now, plus I know you don’t want to risk running into you-know-who from the party.” Miriam had been banned from saying the boy’s name as it just upset Matt, “So we are skipping homeroom.”

Matt opened his mouth to speak a few times, looking like a fish gasping for water. His sister? Suggesting to skip a class? That was a new one. “You’d seriously do that? For me?”

Miriam simply nodded, she looked over to the last rush of students heading towards their homeroom class as the bell was about to ring within the minute. “Come on. I know the perfect place.” Grabbing her brother’s hand she dragged him behind her through the rush of people, maneuvering through all of them the best she could until they reached a door. Pushing it open the two left the school building and were now behind the school on a grassy hill. If she remembered correctly, this is where some students came to smoke so she knew it was not a place that teachers ventured.

The two walked over to one of the few trees behind the school and sat down under it. Matt shortly falling asleep with his back against the tree, soft snores escaping his lips bring a giggle to his sisters lips. Quickly turning her camera on, Miriam snapped a few pictures of her sleeping brother before moving her camera around while looking through it. As she looked for anything else interesting to take pictures of she scanned the rooftop and had to do a double take when she noticed a boy leaning against the fence smoking. It was a perfect candid photo. She zoomed slightly and took the picture before lowering the camera and looking up at him. Curious about why he was up there and who he was. Miriam shook her head and turned her camera off, it wasn’t her business. It was just another student skipping homeroom.