[IC] Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

[eclecticwitch]

E0633C

Life is a great big canvas; throw all the paint on it you can.
— Danny Kaye

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘Funny, eh? The disrespect from you colonists! The English motherland, of course! Rule Britannia and all that, eh old chap?’

Aaaah~ She got that one. She had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep her giggles from disturbing the class. Not that it had started yet. Just, she did not want to draw too much attention to herself. A couple of moments later she calmed herself and sighed, hoping to not fall into another fit of giggles. The mirth still lived on her face, curving one of the corners of her lips upwards and brown eyes glistening with tears.

‘Hopped the pond last Friday. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get out of the first few weeks just cause we moved, so now I’m here on the first day. Speaking of my first day, any more tips for the newbie? And speaking of making friends- not that I’m dropping you or anything- but are there any of your mates that you think would hang out with my type?’

She listened attentively to his story, leaning into her arms. She hadn't really met anyone from 'across the pond' before. Maybe once or twice. It was fascinating and she hoped to learn a lot from him. He was also kind enough to reassure her that his question didn't mean her abandonment. What would that trope be called? The sweet bad boy? She couldn't remember, she'd have to ask Johnny about it later. She was considering how to answer his questions when he leaned close. His breath moved her hair and tickled her ear.

‘Everyone here looks a little too preppy for me.'

As he moved back from her she pressed a hand against her ear and her face turned from happy contentment to one of complete and utter wide-eyed shock. Once again she blushed, this time much more furiously. One could practically see the steam coming from her head. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing happened and she glanced about worriedly. People just didn't get that close. She didn't know how to handle it. She turned away from him for a moment and pressed her hands into her face. Breathe. Breathe.

She didn't want to worry him so she peeked shyly back through her hands. "S-sorry..." she managed. He had been saying something else to her but it had been lost completely in her moment of panic. Her heart raced wildly and she was shaking. "Uhm... I'm not used to... I don't mean..." What the hell did she mean? Her brain had stopped and it felt like an old computer trying to reboot complete with AOL online dial-up noises. "You smell nice."

With another few shaky breaths she lowered her hands but the blush and worried frown didn't leave her face. "Uhm... I think the kind of people you might like would be the misfits. Self-named. Aptly so. My best friend since we were babies is one of them. His name is Jun. Archer and Marisol are in the back there." She gestured lightly toward them. "Archer is nice. He tells a lot of jokes, though I don't get most of them. Uhmm... I don't think Marisol likes me. But you might get along well with her." She offered him a small nervous smile as she noticed Johnny enter the room.

Something like relief came over her face to see a familiar person. "Oh hey Johnny. I didn't know it was you." She said, trying to smile but her face felt all hot and her head felt all stupid. She hoped he would get the movie reference. Maybe that would make her feel better. Her right hand began to tap against her thigh.

[Okonuki]

Bea seemed scandalised by his closeness, clapping a hand over the ear he had spoke into. Her face was hot with embarrassment and her mouth gaped open, astonished at his behaviour. The reaction seemed a little out of proportion- had no one ever whispered at her before? Luckily she had her hands clasped over her face so she didn’t notice him grinning at her response.

Her hands peeped open to show a little of her flushed cheeks and nervous eyes, and she seemed to struggle to form words. She stuttered out a weak apology, seeming to shake with nervousness.

"Uhm... I'm not used to... I don't mean..."

Jords fought the urge to laugh at her delightful confusion as she scrambled to piece a sentence together. He could almost hear the rusty cogs grinding in her head like a poorly-maintained engine. While his attention had flustered girls before, he rarely got such a reaction from just a moment of close proximity.

"You smell nice."

He laughed a little at her unexpected response. So this is what the engine had spat out?

‘It’s all in the coconut shampoo,’ he teased, winking. She seemed to come to her senses, but her cheeks stayed well red. It sounded like she thought a change of topic would make him forget the moment of bewilderment.

"Uhm... I think the kind of people you might like would be the misfits. Self-named. Aptly so. My best friend since we were babies is one of them. His name is Jun. Archer and Marisol are in the back there."

She talked in short sentences, perhaps trying to avoid stumbling over her words like before. The Misfits, eh? Sounded like some kind of emo band. Jordan wasn’t a big fan of emos, with their tendency of mixing up too much edginess and too much eyeliner, but as he followed her gesture to the back of the classroom the two looked fairly normal. He had noticed their grand entrance a minute ago, exchanging quips with the grumpy Gomez.

"Archer is nice. He tells a lot of jokes, though I don't get most of them. Uhmm... I don't think Marisol likes me. But you might get along well with her."

Archer looked a bit too stiff to be a ‘Misfit.’ His uniform was neat and tailored to his lean build and he slouched back in his chair with his arms crossed across his chest, giving off a ‘I’m a celebrity, get me out of here,’ vibe.
Marisol was short and somehow managed to already look bored at the dated literature posters and whitewashed walls of their classroom. She reminded Jordan of that boxer he used to see on TV.. What was her name again? Soleil or something? With the class of people Crowns attracted it wouldn’t have surprised him if they were related.

They were talking quietly between each other as he turned back to Bea. She was looking away from him now, at a tall boy making his way through the maze of desks towards them. Another latecomer. He took a seat in the middle of the class near Bea, and she turned towards him.

"Oh hey Johnny. I didn't know it was you."

Jordan didn’t blame her for clutching onto the nearest familiar face after their conversation. She still seemed flustered, and she seemed to struggle to form a smile. He smiled at the reference. She didn’t seem like the sort to watch, let alone quote that sort of movie.
The guy looked interesting with his height and model-like features, and Jords wasn’t exactly surrounded by friends, so he nodded and smiled at the boy.

‘Hey, I’m Jordan. Are you one of these Misfits I’m hearing about?’

[Venus]

_{A Collab With [@Syn]}

_{Boom, clap!
The sound of my heart.
The beat goes on and on and on and on and…
Boom, clap!
You make me feel good.
Come on to me, come on to me now.}

Shock, upon shock, upon shock…

That was perhaps the best way to describe the feeling coursing through Martha’s body at that very moment. One moment, she’d been staring at the cards on the table in utter disbelief, struggling to digest the possible meaning behind them: Beginnings, Love, Union, Persistence and Resilience with Andres De La Fuente… What?! How was that even possible?! They hadn’t so much as crossed a word since that 7th grade project had been over. And now these cards were suggesting she was going to be involved with him?! She’d probably made a mistake shuffling the cards or asking the question… Yeah, that had to be it. There was no way that-

The next thing Mar knew, the very same individual she’d asked about was standing right next to her in all his handsome glory. The neatly styled black haired, the uniform tailored to perfection, and that bright smile that -as Rihanna sang- shone bright like a diamond…

“Thanks for finding my ball, Martha was is?”

The young woman nodded silently, incapable of coming up with any words. Under the table, her legs began to shake with nerves, and it took all of her self restraint to play it cool and not run away like the coward she very much was. It was then when she saw Andrés’ eyes locked on the tarot cards on the table, and she braced herself for the inevitable good-bye and dismissal as ‘that strange girl with the Satanic cards”. But to Mar’s surprise, the young man eagerly took a seat next to her, asked her to read his fortune, and said what was pretty much her favorite quote of life.

Was she dreaming? Had she unknowingly died in some freak accident and was now in this heaven-like limbo, living all the experiences she’d always wanted? Mar discreetly pinched herself, and nearly cried out in pain instantly. Nope, still very much alive and kicking. This was all real.

“Oh, I’m Andrés by the way, nice to formally meet you” he’d said with a hand stretched out, those brown eyes focused on hers.

“Nice to meet you as well,” Martha found herself saying, taking and politely shaking his hand. Once the introduction was done with, she carried on. “H-have you ever had your fortune read before?” she asked him, feeling herself slowly loosen up with every word said.

Sometimes the gassed up Colombian was a lot to handle -Colombians in general were a lot to handle. His confidence was worn like an aura: whether he was aware of it or not it, it was intoxicating. Martha was only one of many to fall prey to it, as she was frozen in both tongue and cheek. Almost like one of the animatronic robots from Chuck E. Cheese, Martha let out a slight head nod that accepted Andrés forced entry. It took a moment that almost left Andrés feeling like he said something inappropriate or maybe she was a mute… Regardless, the chance to look confused was quickly stolen back by the dark-featured beauty.

Contrary to her decadent fashion sense and clique, her response was rather prim and proper. “I was half expecting you to shoo me away,” the young man said with a sigh of relief.

To everyone, Andrés was king of the forest. He was kind to every man, woman, or whatever came across his path. If he could make just one person’s day, that would be enough for him. Her hands were soft, yet as he was about to pull away he noticed her shiny black nail polish. Chips of vibrant colors from all across the spectrum kissed the tips of her fingers. ”Maybe she’s an artist lik—“ But before he could put two and two together, her voice brought him back to reality.

Her hand was once again her own, while the familiar toothed smile etched itself on his face. “No, I’ve always thought I was the master of my own fate. Tú sabes?” Andrés realizing his Spanglish had been set loose. A small shade of rosy red lit the edges of his defined cheekbones..

Meanwhile, Martha raised a questioning eyebrow at the words she hadn’t understood before letting out a small laugh at his expression. “That’s a nice mantra to live by. But sometimes it’s nice to entertain the possibility of pretending to know the uncertain,” she commented with a shrug.

“I’m sorry about that, I’m still in house mode. Anyway, where were we? Oh, yes: you were about to read me my fortune,” he said, leaving his future in her painted hands.

“It’s no problem!” Martha said earnestly, waving a dismissive hand. With a shadow of a smile on her face reminiscent of the one Mona Lisa wore, Martha took the cards from the case and the ones on top of the table and gave them a quick shuffle before handing them to Andres. “Okay, first of all, what you have to do is hold the cards between your hands for a good thirty seconds, focusing all of your attention into one particular question you would like the answer to.”

A sort of chill went through his back as tiny bumps were raised on his skin. Her curious eyebrow reacting to his mother tongue, her subtle laugh that diffused the situation, her expressive shrug that set him at ease. Andrés didn’t know if the goosebumps were from her or the black magic that was being shuffled in her hands. Andrés had always contemplated whether his mother’s superstition had any basis, but it sure had kicked in today. Andrés studied the girl’s face, her gestures pronounced and defined. His favorite part was definitely her lips since they seemed to naturally pucker.

“What if it’s a future you don’t want to see? And the more you try to change it the more it becomes true?” Of course Andrés was speaking from his own story and the stress he had at home. It was almost unfair to spring this all on Martha, but he quickly gathered himself. His ears latched onto every word of instruction she had to say, he could tell she was really into it.

“Then in that case, I would suggest not asking in the first place,” Mar said simply, shrugging her shoulders. “ A cowardly move, I know. But, sometimes, the less you know the better. They say the truth will set you free, but in certain cases, it is that very truth that can hold you prisoner.”

Her words resonated with him in the back of his head, maybe he shouldn’t ask questions he doesn’t want the answer to. Some things were better left unsaid and untold, Pandora’s box was closed for another day. Her reaffirmation of what he could and couldn’t ask was enough for him to make his decision.

“Okay. So I can ask any question, whatsoever?” The laundry list of questions unraveled in his mind, but the only thing that came to mind was his father. And while Andrés would have done anything to know the answer, now wasn’t the time.

“Yup!” Martha answered almost brightly, waiting eagerly to see what Andrés would come up with.

Andrés picked up the cards with his eyes shut tight, channeling his focus into the cards. The curiosity weighing heavy on his mind. It was now or never, the answer he had been waiting for the last 18 years…

“Would you like to go out sometime?”

And there it was: the moment of truth, taking a small detour out to the middle of nowhere.

Martha’s brown eyes widened to the size of saucers, jaw slightly dropping in shock. If she had been the one holding the cards, this was the moment in which they would have dropped to the floor and either scattered all over the concrete or flown away with the wind. Instead, she was left staring at Andrés for a few long seconds until finally she could muster up some words to break the tension.

“I think you don’t need the cards to answer that question, now do you?” she asked with a shy smile, in an attempt to control the excitement growing inside her.

Andrés didn’t know where he found those combinations of words. It was as if he had been possessed in that moment. A look of disbelief washed over him just as it had for Martha, the feelings were clearly mutual.

Despite the sudden shock and twist of fate, Andrés was content in his choice of question. It wasn’t completely far fetched either, Martha was a gorgeous woman who didn’t suffer from the drama and whatever else the thots of King’s Academy had to deal with. There was something that pulled him towards her like a red string of fate. Andrés was getting nervous in anticipation as she re-enacted her favorite mime impersonation. Finally, her silence was broken.

“I bet your cards didn’t see that in your future.” Andrés smiled before tracing the holy across his head and chest like he did whenever he scored a goal. This goal was just slightly more satisfying.

“Not in a million years,” she admitted with a laugh, a weight she didn’t know she was carrying being lifted off her shoulders. Her answer was a half-truth, though. The cards had forecasted a beginning, so she had known that part was coming. But that it would be so soon, so sudden and so upfront? That, indeed, was something the young woman hadn’t seen in the cards.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to first period while you tell me why you were out here alone,” Andrés said before he stood up, reaching out his hand in anticipation of their first moments of intimacy.

Possessed by the spirit of daring, impulsivity and just a dash of recklessness, Martha took his hand, and next words surprised her once more. “Or I could tell you over lunch,” she replied, grabbing her bag with her free hand and swinging it over her shoulder.

Her laugh was refreshing, a sound that made his center whole. It was the first time in a long time there was a feeling that he could slip away from his problems at home that was a field of grass with painted lines of white. Whatever spirit had possessed those cards had his gratitude. Andrés could get used to being this spontaneous. “I’m not sure your cards can see that far,” he said sardonically, while Mar laughed again in response.

The girl he had startled and intimidated beyond belief had vanished as something else had taken over completely. Her hands laced through his perfectly as he closed his grip in hers. Andrés couldn’t tell what dropped faster, his jaw or the his ball. His coveted soccer ball made its getaway to stage left of King’s Academy, rolling towards the building’s entrance. “I...uh..yeah, we could do that. My car or yours?” He said sheepishly almost letting out a flurry of tangled Spanglish. This must be what XiXi felt like on every first day.

“Um… We can do yours… If you’re cool with that...” Martha said in a soft voice, giving him a sweet smile. Whatever nervousness she had been feeling at the beginning of this encounter was long gone, replaced with a feeling of ease and peacefulness. In this short time with Andrés, things had gone incredibly smoothly, almost as if it was a previously established routine. As wild as it sounded, things just came so easily to her being around him: her actions, her words... Like pieces of a puzzle who’d finally fallen together in the right place.

“Perfect! So it’s a date. If you want you can paint me like one of your French girls” Andrés said with a playful wink, making his prior notice of her fingernails common knowledge.

“Gladly,” Martha replied in between laughs, shaking her head in amusement and gently squeezing his hand.

With everything falling into place, there was only one thing left to do. “We don’t want to be late for class, do we?” He asked, hoping that the upright lovers card wasn’t more than just a chance mistake.

As much as she wanted to say what she really thought (that first period could suck it and they should skip it with no regrets), Mar decided to not jeopardize the amazing karma she was having, and to continue going with the flow as she had up to now. “In that case, I guess we should get going, then,” she told him with a soft smile, jerking her head in the direction of the school.

And with that, Martha and Andrés made their way into the school to join up with the rest of the pack, hands still bound together. So far, this was looking like one hell of a promising senior year for them both.

[Venus]

Let’s Go To My Crib | Ghosts ‘n’ Stuff | Cheap Thrills | Feels | Get Ur Freak On

W H E R E A T : Diablo’s Place | Diamond Road | Last House on the Right

K I C K O F F : 9:00 PM

W H A T T O W E A R : It’s a beachside pool party. Take that as you will.

Parties were a pretty normal occurrence in the young adult age category. If they were between the ages of 14 and 22, then it was likely that, at some point in their lives, these teens and young adults would be attending some kind of party- whether it was in a formal setting, out by the beach, in the forest, or perhaps at some dance. Regardless of the location of said party, one thing that was definitely always a possibility was teenage promiscuity, the presence of alcohol and drugs, the lack of adult supervision, and, of course, the likelihood that bad things were on the horizon.

None would be so true as when the first party of the school year - not sanctioned by the school, of course - was being held at Santiago Fernandez’s beachside house. People could say what they wanted about how this particular young man held himself in the face of authority and other such figures. But his parties? They were among the most infamous in Palm Beach. His connections throughout the school and even outside of the United States of America were known for bringing in guests in the dozens. His bashes were nothing but wild and crazy; much like how Diablo himself lived.

Always with the hookups, party guests - those who were invited, at least - could find anything and everything when they arrived. Out in public view, of course, were tables upon tables full of assorted alcohol and other such beverages, with a big bowl of the famous Devil’s Punch. If you knew who to ask, Diablo had the hookup to make his party guests experience one to remember...or not, depending on the drugs they request. Other tables were dedicated to common party games like beer pong, pool, and large beach balls floating in the exotic pool. The decor was lit up like a Miami nightclub, with various shades of neon blue ranging from sky to royal. And as impressive everything both inside and outside the house was, it wouldn’t be a Diablo party if there weren’t guests from out of town and reggaeton music playing so loud that Bob Marley himself could be seen dancing in his grave.

Bottom line? This was bound to be a bash to remember.

Estamos bien.
Sobran los billetes de cien.
No hay nada mal, estamos bien, está todo bien.
Todos los míos están bien, estamos bien.

No te preocupes, estamos bien.

At half past nine, the man of the hour was confidently strolling through the pool area, red Solo cup in his hand and a cocky grin on his bearded face. Daddy Yankee was blaring through the speakers, and his friends from Puerto Rico were already getting started like the damn party animals that they were. No matter how hard he tried, Diablo couldn’t stop admiring just how fucking lit everything was looking for this party. Jesus fuck: April had certainly outdone herself this time around. That woman was a goddamned gift, and he would make sure to pay back all her efforts one way or another.

Still smiling, Santiago looked around until he found his favorite seat by the pool, perfectly located in a spot where he could easily see those coming or going much like a king would on his golden throne. The young man pulled out his phone from his pocket, and quickly sent April a text asking if she was on the way. Once that was over with, he turned his attention back to the party, where a few familiar faces from Kings were finally starting to arrive. As confident as he was in the quality of his parties, his only wish was that every single one of his attendees would have the fun they deserved: be it friend or foe. In nights like this, Diablo didn’t care about past or present feuds (which he avoided like the plague, as it would only bring unwanted attention to himself and could jeopardize his business).

In nights like this, all he wanted was to party, and to party hard.

[Sugar and Spite]

---

Coming down, bring me back, I'm the life of the party

---

The truth was Ariel hadn't planned to attend tonights party. She'd never really been that big of a fan of them regardless. Parties ment people - especially parties hosted by the one and only Santiago - and Heaven knows, Ariel did not like people. Ariel had never really hung out with the young man or his crowd, but the famous parties were open pretty much everyone.

What had changed her mind would be none other than her father. When she had came home from work that afternoon, the man would be hanging out with none other than Jack Daniels. It wasn't that Trillian needed alcohol to be mean, but instead it was the fact that alcohol was guarenteed to make him mean. Laying her keys on the counter, she had done her best to get by him without being noticed, but failed miserably. It was only a few short minutes after she had entered her home that the man started to yell.

"Where the Hell have you been," he asked accusingly.

"I had to work today," Ariel responded quietly.

Her father pursed his lips before taking another gulp from the bottle, locking his gaze onto hers. "Don't lie to me, Serafina."

"I'm not," she said, her voice hesitant. "It was a short shift."

Trillian laughed, now turning the near empty bottle back and forth in his hands. In a split second, he threw it, causing it to shatter against the wall while barely missing Ariels face. She jumped and began heading towards the stairs. Trillian, getting up from his seat, stumbled over the coffee table, giving her just enough time to get up the stairs before he followed after her. Heart pounding in her chest, Ariel entered her room, quickly turning to lock the door. Her father beat on the door from the other side, yelling at her to come out. She wouldn't notice herself crying until later.

Grabbing a drawstring bag, Ariel quickly shoved a change of clothes and a bathing suit into it. Opening her window, the girl climbed out of the house, not even bothering to shut the window back. It looked like she would be walking to the party.

---

Arriving at her destination, Ariel would ask one of the various party-goers where she could find the bathroom. Making her way there, she would quickly change into her black bikini. Thank the gods she had grbbed the comftorable one that didn't squeeze her boobs. Putting on a pair of shorts over the bottoms -a black pair, of course- she would hide her bag in one of the bathroom cabinets.

Looking in the mirror, she would see that her face was stil slightly red. Ariel sighed, knowing there was nothing she could do about it as she combed her fingers through her hair. Once back outside, she decided to give a short hello to Santiago before making her way to the table full of booze. Pouring herself a half a cup of vodka, she would scan the crowd for familiar faces, bracing herself for the night to come.

[AlteredTundra]

_{L O C A T I O N / / Home and then not home
I N T E R A C T I N G W I T H / / Mom and Mari}

---

While Sonny Drake was more than excited to finally start his final year at King’s Academy, what he could do without were the classes. His teachers weren’t particularly horrible or annoying like the ones he had in the three years prior to 2018, but god, they pitched the same BS that made Sonny want to kill himself. The same ‘Welcome back’, same ‘this is your final year’ bullshit that made the teen regret not taking up his parents’ offer to homeschool him. Though, that probably would’ve ended up being just as torturous as what he had to go through for the fourth time now.

And he never thought he’d say this but thank GOD for Santiago Fernandez. The second that word spread that Mr. Tuco Salamaca himself was throwing a pool party, regardless how he might feel about the man and how he has caused some uneasy mood swings with his close friend, Stella, Sonny was ready to let loose, forget about school, and cause a little trouble; and not necessarily in that order, either. The good thing about it being a pool party, Sonny didn’t have to fumble into his walk-in closet on the Friday evening after finishing his shift at Asgard Fitness about what he was going to wear. A simple pair of dark blue swimming trunks from his father’s time as a teen and a white tank top was all that the boy needed.

As soon as he had taken a shower and got himself dressed, Sonny was practically out the door, texting Marisol. That was, of course, until he met his own little blocker of sorts.

“Mom, I’m kind of in the middle of going somewhere.”

Sonny’s mother, Viola Banks-Drake, had her arms crossed over her chest, looking at her son with what could only be described as a disapproving glare. “Are you forgetting something?”

“No but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“It’s Friday.”

“Gee, mom, I didn’t know that. Thank you so much for that vital piece of information,”

He saw that she rolled her eyes at his unwanted snark. “Today is the annual Drake Family Night.”

Oh. “Fuck, that’s tonight!?”

Viola shook her head. “Honestly, JJ, what am I going to do with you? Your father is usually the one who gets on top of these things, but he’s stuck at work, so it’s just the two of us.”

Sonny let go of whatever attitude he had. It was unlike his mother to show such..such - well, venerability in front of him, so he figured the least he could do was not to sass her like he liked to. Instead, he let out a defeated sigh and gave her a sympathetic look. “I know Dad is working late tonight. He told me a bit of it when I had my after school shift over at the Asgard building. He said something about a shipment of the wrong energy drinks coming in and that’s why he’s not home yet.”

Viola nodded, "he called me just an hour ago with the same news. I’m bummed if I’m being honest.”

“Mom, what’s wrong? You’re not usually like this.”

She sighed, “okay truth is, we wanted to talk to you about something important. Preferably, it was going to be a surprise, but I guess Jackson won’t totally kill me if I told you myself.”

“And what would that be?” Sonny asked, equally curious and confused.

She took in a deep breath and spoke. “We’re worried about you, Sonny. We know all of your friends have shown interest in college and you haven’t said a single thing. Even Kavi, that Salvador kid, has stated he’s going to the University of Florida--”

“So he says,” Sonny said under his breath, earning a disapproving glare from his mother.

“This is serious, Jackson Torvald!”

And there she was. Sonny was beginning to wonder where his mother was hiding. “Ouch. The middle name too. This must be the real deal,” he joked, keeping on with his attitude.

“Do you not have any plans to pursue your education past high school?”

That was a good question. Sonny honestly wasn’t looking that far ahead. If he was being totally honest, the teen was mostly focused on getting through his final year at King’s Academy. Any plans past the graduating year of 2019 wasn’t a big concern to him. And why should it? Who said that Sonny had to make any huge life decisions? He could take a year or two to think it over. With how good he has it at home and how he’ll likely move up the ranks at his father’s gym that he co-owns with Marisol’s mother, he’s set.

“I can’t do this now. I’m late for the party,” Sonny fumbled for his words, brushing past the subject - and with a gentle nudge -his mother.

“But Sonny--”

Before he could hear what she had to say, Sonny had left the house and was in his truck. He sat there on his phone as he texted the following to Marisol.

I'm in my parking lot. Be here in 10 minutes.

[Venus]

Nah, you don't know me
Lightning above and a fire below me
You cannot catch me, cannot hold me
You cannot stop, much less control me

Marisol Castillo had spent the hours between getting out of school and sundown at the beach, filling in the minutes with all the surfing she had been prevented from doing because of classes -ugh. The sun had been in full display, and she didn’t bother with reapplying her sunscreen after the first time. So, being the pale-ass bitch that she was, she earned herself a nice sunburn instead of a suntan. Mentally cursing her own stupidity, the brunette had arrived home to go straight to the bathroom for a cold shower and then lather herself with cooling aloe vera gel in attempts to soothe her skin. And this was why, whereas most members of King’s Academy’s senior class were either getting ready for or making their arrivals to the grand party of that arrogant asshole Santiago Fernandez, Little Miss Misfit was not one of them. Instead, the pajama-clad young woman was chilling with her brothers in the den of their home, cereal bowl in hand and a marathon of Rick and Morty playing on the theater screen. Her green eyes were glued to the screen as she munched on her cereal happily, doing her best to ignore the hot, slightly burning sensation on her red-tinged skin.

The pinging of her celphone distracted her from the show, and a glaring Mari looked down to see a message on the screen:

From: Thor Jr.
I'm in my parking lot. Be here in 10 minutes.

“Well shit.” Marisol muttered under her breath, letting out a deep sigh and grimacing. Guess Sonny had decided to go to the stupid party in the end… And there was no way in Hell she was going to let him go with Stella or - even worse - some other chick. No, sir. Not on her watch.

“What?” her older brother Mac Jr asked, not taking his eyes from Morty getting into some shit.

His sister stood up and handed him her finished cereal bowl, which earned her a noise of protest from Mac Jr. “Would you mind taking that for the kitchen for me? I’ve gotta go get ready. Son’s picking me up for the Diablo party.”

“And you can’t take it yourself?” Mac Jr complained, watching Mari heading for the door.

The girl shook her head. “Nope. That’d be valuable time wasted.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going,” Marcus called out after her, a curious eyebrow raised at his big sister. He'd seen the name on the screen, after all.

From her place at the door frame, Marisol turned around just long enough to shrug and simply say “Duty calls,” before rushing off to her bedroom.

Truth be told, Mari had very few reasons to go to this party. For starters, the lovely hosts of this wonderful affair were at the top of her Shit List. The self-appointed Devil of Crowns was nothing more than a piece of shit manwhore who lived in delusions of grandeur. Meanwhile, his dumbass ‘best friend’ - or so they said - wasn’t much better. Mari knew firsthand that April Foster was a damn fake who pretended to be someone she was not. And how was the young woman so sure and certain of her accusations? Because she’d known April for years, all thanks to the close relationship Mr. Foster shared with her uncle Dante. Up next was Sonny’s other best friend Stella, who Sol just knew would probably stick to him like glue and basically cockblock any chance of a Fourth of July encore. Then there was the monumental attempts that would have to be made to rip Archer away from his precious books…

But, in the end, the promise of a party - no matter who was behind it - with her friends on their last year together was much too good of an opportunity to pass up.

The brunette ripped her closet doors open, picked out the first things she saw and quickly put them on: a black bikini under a black, sleeveless Adidas crop top; light-washed, high-waisted shorts; a pair of Adidas sneakers and an oversized camo jacket. On her way out, she grabbed her cherry lip balm, her cellphone and house keys, and made it out to the front door just in time to see Sonny’s truck pulling into the driveway. Wasting no time, Marisol opened the passenger door and jumped to her seat, buckling up her seat belt before turning to her best friend with a grin

“You ready to fuck this shit up?” she asked him, slowly rubbing her hands together.

[eclecticwitch]

Pon de Replay // Stereo Love // I Like the Way you Move // Evacuate the Dance Floor

When you had two gay men for dads, it meant that the moment they found out you were going to a party you were whisked away for some after-school shopping. Which was tedious and boring for Bea. Nonetheless, she went along faithfully and allowed them to primp and pamper to their heart’s content. She ended up in a pinstripe two-piece that showed off her flat stomach. It had a matching skirt that showed off much more leg than Bea was used to. They smoothed out her hair and put on just a touch of make-up. All waterproof of course. When she looked in the mirror she was nothing like herself but figured it probably looked nice. She grabbed an ancient sweater and her fanny pack before wishing the dads goodbye. They went on about their usual flitting and promised to stay up till she got home or to come to get her if there was trouble. Bea rolled her eyes, kissed them, and went out to her old pick up truck to find her way to a certain young man’s house.

The ringing of the doorbell woke Jordan from his movie induced doze. Panicking a little, he took a quick glance at his watch as end credits scrolled down the dark screen. The ringer must have been Bea, ready to take him to the party. It had surprised him a little when the short girl had offered to take him along, but he wasn’t going to turn down a good night. Luckily he had remembered to dig his togs out from the back of his closet earlier, so all he had to do was grab them and get to the door. He swung it open to see Bea perched on their tatty welcome rug.

‘Hey,’ he said, with a welcoming smile. He spotted a dinged-up old ute in the driveway. ‘Love the car. Do you want to come in, or should we get going?’

When he opened the door her eyes slid down and then back up. “You look homeless,” she said blankly. She then glanced back to the car and shrugged - “Dads’ wanted to get me something newer. This has more character... Whatever is fine. No rush from me.” Since that first day she had calmed down quite a bit in his presence and perhaps he had even been a victim of some of her accidentally cutting remarks.

‘Homeless?’ He’d come to realize over the last week that Bea didn’t seem to notice the insults she threw around were actually offensive, and so he laughed it off.

‘Thank you, my fashionista. Perhaps you can come inside and give me some suggestions?’ he said, opening the door to let her through and motioning her in. There was no rush to get to the party since it had only officially started about ten minutes ago, and if there was one thing Jords was good at it was being fashionably late.

Bea walked smoothly into the house and took a mere moment to consider the interior before looking back at her host. “I’m probably the last person you want to ask that.” She sighed, looking him over again. “It's mostly the hair and wrinkled clothes. Though, wrinkles seem to be in these days. The best I got for you is color coordination.”

She had a fair point about the wrinkles. He looked down at his scrunched grey shirt and discreetly brushed at a small stain on his hip. Fashion had never been his thing, being more of a grab, throw on and out the door kind of guy, and it seemed it showed. His shorts were an electric green and probably were ready for the bin years ago. He brushed his stringy hair back with one hand and looked back at Bea.

‘Alright. Teach me, sensei.’

She rolled her eyes at him and gestured toward the rest of the house. There was a hint of a smile on her lips though. She could not begrudge him the old shorts or mussed hair, considering such things were her own style. But this was the Devil’s party - where one went to sin and look good doing it. “Well, lead the way. I’ll see what I can do,” she replied in her usual cool and even tone.

He took her up the stairs to his bedroom, which resembled a bombsite. The closet doors were wide open, revealing piles of more rumpled clothes spilling from draws and shelves. He’d forgotten to turn off the TV from before and the screen showed the Netflix logo.

‘Well, this is it,’ he said, waving a hand magnanimously while unobtrusively kicking a wayward pair of briefs out of sight under his tangled bedsheets. She took in the sight of the disheveled mess of the room. It was obvious it had not been his plan to bring a girl here… unless he didn’t consider Bea a girl. She hardly minded it though, her own art room becoming quite the tangle of used brushes, paints, and half-finished canvas. Instead, she picked her way through the piles of laundry to the open closet.

Her fingers brushed over the few clothes which hung there but did not find anything satisfying. She moved toward the drawers, plucking up bits of clothes here and there before tossing them aside. “You should really do a spring clean,” she said blandly.

‘I think it’s past a spring clean at this point. Maybe an autumn scouring.’

“Sit tight.” As she went through the clothes she accidentally started organizing the room. A ‘bad’ habit she developed once finished painting. At long last she came upon a loose, pale button up and what appeared to be some sandy colored swim trunks. She tossed them at him. “Get dressed then I’ll do your hair.”

‘Do my hair?’ he said blankly, catching the clothes. ‘What’s wrong with it?’ Probably the wrong thing to say as it left him open to a Bea-style half insult, but he was puzzled at the hair comment. Yeah, maybe it was a little lank, and it had been a while since he’d done anything styly to it... Okay, maybe she was right.

“I mean, you could just tell girls you went skydiving beforehand,” she said lightly as she continued to sort and put away things. She liked to keep busy. It was better than sitting on the bed staring at the ceiling.

He changed quickly in the bathroom and came out to see Bea finishing up organizing his clothes. When he finally came out she directed him to sit. Once he had done so, she knelt behind him on the bed and began pulling her fingers softly through his hair. She slicked it all back first, using the natural oils there to hold it in place. Once she was satisfied all of those silly tangles had been quite gently taken care of (for a girl with curly hair knew how much it hurt to have someone just tug through knots) she parted the strands. Her fingers began to give the hair some sort of styled shape around his face. “There. Is that alright?”

He caught a look in the wide mirror that sat opposite to them and was taken slightly aback. Her gentle touch had felt nice in his hair, and the end result was remarkably different from his usual ‘just enough to be out of his eyes,’ style. He reached a hand up to touch his new ‘do.

‘Wow. You’re a miracle maker. I’ve never seen it like this before- maybe I should start doing it this way every morning,’ he laughed. He was looking slightly more presentable now in his button-up and with styled hair and he smiled at her. ‘Thanks for your fashion help. Want to head over now?’

“I dunno how much help I was, but thanks.” She had merely channeled what the Dads were likely to do. They had the fashion know how. Two gay dads in the home was like ten GBF’s in the bush, right? “Aye, capn’. Lead the way.” She put the final finishing touches on his bed being to rights before she left the room.

They got into her truck moments later. It was a single bench seat for the front and a window with a hatch just behind them. It had a cassette tape deck in which one of those fancy player tapes now lived and attached to it was a very old MP3 player with a mix of surprising music for the girl. The truck’s cab was clean but showed its years in dents and scuffs. The MP3 was a surprise too for Jordan- with the money flowing around Palm Beach most of the teens he’d met had the latest and greatest of everything.

Bea sat on two large phone books to help her see over the wheel and once Jordan was properly seated and the door closed she started her way to the party. “Planning on meeting any of the misfits?” she asked out of curiosity. They were all likely to be there.

‘Hopefully. Is this party gonna have the whole crowd?’ He hadn’t managed to talk to the Misfits yet since he’d first seen them in English on Monday, thanks to a cold and mainly hanging out with Bea. They still intrigued him, but they looked like a close-knit group and he hoped that beer and the beach would give him an excuse to strike up a conversation.

“At least most. I know Jun will be there; the dads texted him but I’ll be more likely watching over him than vice-versa.” She paused at a blinking stop like before turning. “If there is a chance to make mischief I am sure the others will appear as well.”

‘Nice,’ he said. ‘So, you been to one of Santiago’s parties before? He looks like a bit of a cock, but apparently, the parties he throws are always wild.’ He hadn’t seen much of the guy, but he’d heard about his footballing prowess and whispers of the whole ‘Candyman’ shit. The only problem was the nickname always made Jordan picture him as a character in that old board game Candyland, rather than the hardman drug dealer persona he extruded.*

“A couple,” she responded. “They can get fairly crazy - depending on if someone has decided to drink in excess and/or take some sort of psychotropic.” She shrugged and glanced over at him. “Normally it’s just your average party.” She tapped out the beat to one of the songs on the steering wheel as the beach became apparent on the horizon. They were getting close.

‘So you’re quite the party animal, then. Can’t wait to see you salsa on down the dance floor,’ he laughed, recalling the impromptu lessons she’d inflicted on him over the last couple of days.

“I won’t be salsa-ing anywhere,” she mumbled under her breath.

‘So what’s an average party over here? I’ve always wondered if an American party was anything like the movies. Do you really have those red plastic cups?’ He could hear the faint sound of dance music and see the rhythmic flashes of dance lights coming from a white marble mansion down the street ahead of them.

She shrugged, unsure of what her alcohol to dance ratio would be tonight. Though if the music was right and the liquor tasty she might go on full flamenco. “I’m not sure about comparisons… but we certainly always have the red solo cup. Even a classic country song about it.” She laughed lightly as the pulled into a driveway in which many other cars had parked. She turned off the engine and strapped the fanny pack about her waist. “I just gotta grab something from the bed. You are welcome to head in first.”

‘Sweet, I guess I’ll see you in there,’ he said, giving a small wave. ‘Love the fanny pack, by the way.’ The party seemed to already be pumping, and he stepped over several spilled drinks and drunk bodies on his way through the main house to the pool. Jords made a beeline to the drink table and grabbed a red solo cup (!!!) of punch before stopping to take in the scene. Next to him, a short girl with black hair clutching a half of vodka seemed to be doing the same. She looked a little nervous, so it seemed natural to introduce himself.

‘Hey, you been here long?’ he said, smiling warmly. ‘I’m Jordan.’

Bea rounded to the back of the truck and unlocked the back hatch. She easily lifted herself up into it where she unlocked a toolbox. In the top was an assortment of tools used in auto-repair. She lifted up the handled top to reveal a few other tools as well as a bottle of liquor. She shook it up a bit and the green of it made her smile. It was a bottle of vodka in which she had dissolved quite a number of sour apple skittles. How she got it was a mystery, for despite the willingness of the dads they would have never bought her alcohol.

She hopped down from the bed and closed the trunk. Once sure that all of her things were locked up properly, she made her way down into the booming sound of the party. Bea clutched the bottle to her chest as she meandered until finally, she spotted the person she was looking for. Santiago was doing his Santiago thing. Barely minding anyone to which he spoke, Bea walked up to him, barefoot and nearly bare skinned. She thrust the bottle into his chest and once his hands closed over it said, “Thank you for hosting,” before turning on her heel and beginning to walk away.

[spooner]

Still I am not from Barcelona,
I am not even from Madrid.
I am a native of the North Pole
And that can mess up any kid.

---

---

The first week of school had gone by in a blur, nothing much to mention but the crushing weight of the huge corse load Archer had taken on this year. It was the year before college after all, but man was he feeling it. But now that it was the weekend Archer pushed all of that to the back of his mind and spent the afternoon at the beach with his best friend. While Mari surfed the daylight away Archer sat under a parasol “watching” her surf, so basically reading at the beach for a couple of hours.

After dropping his friend at her house Archer was on his way to his own home but rather than turning his car on to his driveway he kept going past. He just couldn’t be bothered sitting through yet another stiff dinner with his parents. He instead drove around Crown Heights listening to music and figuring out where to go and what to do. But like always he ended up in the same place he always does “The Print and The Pot”, a bookstore that sells secondhand and new books. Inside there is also a little coffee shop where you can enjoy what you’ve purchased. This is where Archer spent most of his teenage years in lieu of being in his own home.

He had been there for some time when his phone rang, checking the screen he groaned mentally when he saw it was his mother. He begrudgingly answered the call “Hey mom?”

“Archie, where are you? Dinner is waiting for you!” His mother’s voice rang out from the receiver with a mix of worry and annoyance.

“I’m at P&P, getting stuff for school.” This was a lie of course, he had gotten all he needed a month ago.

“So you’re not eating at home? You could’ve called to let me know!” The annoyance in her voice had now taken over. Archer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry mom… I forgot I guess” Archer offered as a measly excuse.

He could hear his mother’s disappointed sighs from the other side of his phone, “I’ll see you back at the house then, bye sweetie.” she said and hung up. Archer stared down at his phone, guilt swelling up inside him.

When he finally arrived back at the Diedrikson villa, his book bag a lot heavier than before, he rushed up to his room without even agnolishing his parents in the front room. After a quick hot shower and a change in to his comfy clothing, he was finally sat in his bay window with his new leatherbound notebook scribbling away his thoughts. He was really happy that his friends had decided not to go to Santiago’s party.

[AlteredTundra]

_{L O C A T I O N / / Santiago’s Party
I N T E R A C T I O N S / / Familiar face with Russian Essence}

---

One thing that Kavi Salvador learned during the first week of senior year was that, contrary to King’s Academy’s ‘no tolerance’ rule to bullying, he didn’t receive any real punishment for how he may have treated Elijah Abrams. Not that Kavi felt he deserved any punishment. In his opinion, he did nothing wrong. The Jewish teen was the one who threw the first punches, but Kavi knew not to push his luck, so he gave Eli a sort of break from the usual, daily torture of his company. Besides, Kavi was too busy actually trying not to land in detention in the first week of the school year. It would look particularly unsavory on his college applications if he had a few dozen trips to detention on his record.

As soon as Friday came around - or more specifically - the end of the school day on the start of the first weekend, Kavi couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of that place for the next two and a half days. As far as he was concerned, school didn’t matter. This was especially true when the horizon of that party everyone had been going on about all day. Initially, Kavi wasn’t going to go. Lord knew that he couldn’t stand that overconfident asswipe, Santiassgo, but when he started hearing murmurs about who exactly was attentending (A.K.A. everyone who mattered in the senior class), he quickly changed his tune. He had no idea if the other misfits would attend. It wouldn’t be a terrible thing if he managed to see them at the party, but he had his own ride. Despite Sonny telling him he would be picking most of them up on his way, the Polynesian male had his own ride.

Surprise surprise. His ride happened to be his own car. Imagine that right? Kavi actually would want to use his own vehicle. Besides, Sonny was likely to use that beaten up truck he liked flinging around town. Kavi would rather arrive stag as opposed to being seen in that hunk of junk. No, Kavi would be driving his own Lexus that was, of course, top of the line for someone his age. His parents didn’t make mega money like most of the rich fuckers in Crown Heights, but it was a good 90K (cost wise) kind of vehicle. Easily something his parents didnt mind getting for him. He just had to pay the insurance.

At some point, Kavi pulled up to Santiago’s home, which was obviously his parents’ money, not the glorified dumbfuck. God, if there was anyone that Kavi wouldn’t mind see get deported back to whatever third country he crawled out of, it would be Santiago. For now, however, he’d just give the best fake, grateful greeting to the party’s host.

After spending just one moment of doing that, however, Kavi, who was wearing a pair of red swimming shorts and a black tank top, made his way over to the refreshments table. As it would happen, he saw someone else had beaten him to it. It only took him a few moments of seeing her turn to face him (by coincidence, of course), he saw who it was. “Hey, Ariel,” Kavi smiled towards her, letting his smile do all the talking, completely ignoring Jordan. “You’re looking great in that two-piece.” Kavi poured himself a glass of vodka while offering to refill hers.

[Sugar and Spite]

Oliver & Raven

---

---

Oliver had spent the afternnoon lazying about by the window while working on his homework. He had heard rumors of Santiago's party, but was still on the fencee about it. Until the one and only Raven knocked on his window, scaring the living hell out of him. With a roll of the eyes, he let the girl in.

Most would find their friendship unusual. However, Raven was a close neighbor, their parents were friends, and Raven had a soft spot for drama and coffee too. What worked, worked.

"Get your shit sand lets go," Raven said.

"Oh darling. I just get all tingly inside when you take controll like that," he responded, causing her to roll her eyes this time. "But where are we going?"

"Why the Devils Lair, of course. Booze, drugs, drama. You might even get laid!"

"No. But in an outfit like that, you sure ass hell will." It was true. A shirt that low cut and shorts that short were bound to turn somebody on. After his response, Raven proceeded to more or less drag Oli out the window.

It took the pair a total of ten minutes to get to the party. Once there, Oliver began to take pictures with his phone while making his way over to the drink table. Raven walked over to join a group of her friends.

[mickilennial]

---

Palm Beach, Florida
August 17th, 2018

---

“Oh sure, it's not like I got anything better to do but go to a Diablo party.” Jun's immediate words when he was 'invited' to the get-together said pretty much all that needed to be said. But for some reason here he was getting his things together on a Friday night. Not that Jun had much to bring to a beach party at the place of business of King Academy's very own bad boy extraordinaire™.

But then again what was the alternative? Go to a screening of the new Mission Impossible alone and crack jokes at Tom Cruise and Scientology for no one to hear them? That sounded boring. But what didn't was going out with people he knew barely wanted to go in the first place and make it a fun time laughing at the antics and stupidity going down in front of them. They were the audience and Diablo's Party was the movie, and he didn't even have to pay for tickets or bother driving. So when he got the text the most he could say was yeah, sure, why not? Which for most of the people Jun cared about, yeah, that was the consensus.

As Jun walked out of his house with ballcap and sunglasses in hand he prepared to send out a text to Marisol since she was basically the team leader and only person outside of Archer he actually didn't want to semi-punch in the throat. The Misfits were like that in a sort of dysfunctional way. The Asian-American teenager wasn't still sure if he and Sonny were even friends; and that wasn't even getting into his complicated relationship with Kavi who he was sure was going to start some shenanigans at the party that was going to go over about as well as a fried chicken and a bubble bath.

I'm ready when you guys are.

[Sugar and Spite]

---

'Cause I'm in the zone
Turned off my phone
I've got my own agenda

---

Breathe in, breathe out. Large crowds killed her anxiety, the music didn't suit her normal tastes, and she felt like she was dying. But yeah, sure, parties weren't that bad. With each new arrival, her heart sank just a little more. Was no one she really knew going to show up? Ariel mentally scolded herself. This was the first party of the year. Everyone would show.

Seeing a truck pull up, the young girl was surprised to see Bea exit the vehicle. She had never peg Bea as the partying type, but it was nice to see a familiar face. Perhaps she'd catch up with her later. Taking a small sip of her drink, a handsome young man she recognized from English class walked over. They had shared a few brief words before, and her American heart swooned over his British accent just as it was now. She turned herself towards him, a small smile on her face.

"My whole life," she responded, clearly still lost in her train of thought. It took her a whole second to realize that wasn't what he ment, eyes widening and cheeks turning red in response. She shook her head before letting out a small laugh. "You ment the party... right. I'd say a good twenty minutes or so. Gods I feel like such an idiot now," she said, biting her lip. "I'm Ariel, by the way," she added hastily before taking another sip of her drink.

Hearing a splash as someone jumped in the pool, Ariel turned to find herself face to face with Kavi Salvador. (More like face to chest, seeing as he was taller.) Ariel had had a crush on Kavi for the longest time. Who could blame her? While the two of them didn't hang out in the same crowd -Ariel not liking Sonny or Marisol- the two of them had shared quite a few enjoyable conversations. She felt herself turn a few shades darker red at his comment.

"Thanks Kavi. You tidy up pretty nicely yourself." Not wanting to be rude she quickly introduced the two boys. "Kavi Salvador, meet the dude with the awesome accent. Accent Dude, meet Kavi." She took a large drink of her vodka, needing the liquid courage, holding the cup out to him.

Standing between two insanely hot guys, it was clear the Fates had something in mind for her tonight. She scolded herself once more. No reason to go down Sexy Thoughts River straight into the Sea of Perversion when it wasn't going to get you anywhere.

[mickilennial]

---

Palm Beach, Florida
August 17th, 2018

---

It had been barely a week since J.J. had moved to Florida with his family and already he was invited to a party at the beach that he didn't want to go to and his sister was staring at him like he did something innately wrong. He knew that telling Maya he didn't really want to go to a party with a bunch of people he didn't know was basically a criminal offense in her eyes. In fact, if he didn't “give up” and let her have her way he was probably never going to hear the end of it for the rest of August. And J.J. wasn't exactly a guy who liked pissing people off. His parents praised him for being accommodating, though his friends back in New York tended to call him “King Doormat”. Moving to Florida, evidently, did not change that fact.

“You're not going to let this go, are you?”

“No. Get your keys, asshole. I don't want to be holed up in this house when there's something happening.” She smirked, though it was probably even colder than her scowl. “Unlike you I want to have a little fun.”

“I... yeah, alright.”

A sigh left him as he went over to his dresser and grabbed the keys to his car from the top drawer. He wasn't sure why he even tried to fight his sister's needs and wants at this point. Maybe part of it was the guilt of not standing his ground with staying in New York; or maybe he just felt bad that she was having a rough time in Florida in general. It wasn't exactly what he wanted either, but it was what it was and they had to deal with their year being a different version of what they had imagined. Besides, he figured that there might've been something at the party that didn't make him feel like the awkward kid who was new to town.

After all, he hadn't been to a party he had enjoyed in what seemed like forever. Maybe this one would be like that?

“You better be ready if you really want to go.”

Maya rolled her eyes. “When am I not?”

Before he knew it the two of them were working their ways downstairs and into his white 2018 Honda Pilot as Maya directed him toward the destination and what was likely to be an exhausting night. He just hoped it would be enough to sate Maya's need for socialization enough where he didn't have to deal with it for at least another week or two. After all, his initial plans for the night was to practice basketball and maybe review some of the NBA games from the playoffs. He honestly couldn't wait to join the basketball team at King's Academy and setting out what he wanted to do by the end of the year. Florida may not have been New York, but it was good enough. But that was a thought for another night, it seemed.

Tonight was an entirely different ordeal; a fact he realized as soon as he arrived at the party.

[Silent Whispers]

---

---

---

---

_{Rodriguez Residence ► Diablo's Party
Interacting With: Diablo, briefly
Outfit}

---

"Alright, mom. I am leaving."

Angelica called out to her mother, who was in the living room and watched as Angelica came down the stairs in a pink bikini with a pink wrap. Her mother quickly stood and stopped Angelica in her tracks as she marched right up to her. "Where do you think you are going dressed like that?" Her mother inquired towards Angelica, who slightly rolled her eyes while a small scoff came from her lips, as well. "It's a pool party, mom. What do you want me to wear? A church dress or something?"

She quipped towards her mother, who was very much displeased with Angelica's response. "Don't take that tone with me, young lady. I am the one that can tell you not to go to the party." Angelica walked away from her mother after she had made that statement and grabbed her car keys that were placed by the door. She opened the door then eyed her mother with a slight smirk. "I'd like to see you try." She walked out of the house and had probably left her mother stunned with her comment.

She was going to Diablo's party no matter what and now that she was in her vehicle, she was definitely on her way towards the infamous Diablo's Den. The party was seemingly packed already upon her arrival. She literally had to park about two houses down so that she could be able to go to Diablo's. Angelica got out of her car and straightened out her pink wrap, which was covering up the lower half of her body. With her head held high and cell phone in hand, she walked a few feet to Diablo's party and entered the establishment as she walked around for a few.

After a while though, she did have a Red Solo Cup filled Diablo's Punch as it was called. Angelica continued to walk around as she bumped into Diablo and just offered him a kind statement. "Great turnout." She told him before walking away to see who else she could talk to or who could entertain her for the time being.

[Okonuki]

‘Hey, you been here long?’ he said, smiling warmly. ‘I’m Jordan.’

"My whole life," the girl said, looking distracted by the noise and movement of the party around them. They looked at each other for a second in mutual confusion before she seemed to realise what he’d actually said and let out a small laugh at the misunderstanding. First Bea, now her- he seemed to have a knack at picking out the awkward girls.

"You meant the party... right. I'd say a good twenty minutes or so. Gods, I feel like such an idiot now." Twenty minutes and she was still alone? She seemed to be the wallflower type, standing aside and watching the going-ons of the party from the safety of the drinks table. She still seemed flustered by his approach- her fingers were wrapped around her cup and squeezing like a stress ball as she took another sip.

‘No worries. I’m sure the conversation will flow a lot smoother after a couple more cupfuls,’ he said, with a little laugh.

"I’m Ariel, by the way.’

‘A pleasure, I’m sure,’ he said with a small mock bow.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted another party goer making a beeline for them. A shortish, asian looking guy wearing a black tank top. Probably just getting a drink from the collection of bottles behind them.

“Hey, Ariel,” they said with a wide smile, and Jordan raised an eyebrow at their casual disregard of him. Maybe they didn’t like introductions.

“You’re looking great in that two-piece.” Interesting. Ariel was flushing even more than she had at Jordan’s introduction. Perhaps he had accidentally wandered into the middle of a couple, or at least a ‘thing.’ Backing off a little might be in order, being the stranger in a strange land and not wanting to make any enemies in his first week. Despite the guy’s smug, punchable face, he restrained himself from saying anything dumb.

"Thanks Kavi. You tidy up pretty nicely yourself. Kavi Salvador, meet the dude with the awesome accent. Accent Dude, meet Kavi." Accent dude, alright. He’d hoped to make a better first impression than that at the school, but oh well. Jordan swapped his cup into his left and extended a stiff handshake to Kavi. It seemed like a day of introductions.

‘Actually, I prefer Jordan. I guess if you really want, you can call me Accent Dude too though.’ He gave a lazy smile and eyeballed Kavi with a cautious look. His tank top showed off well muscled arms and he had a capable, charming smile. Possibly not one to antagonize.

[AlteredTundra]

_{L O C A T I O N / / Santiago’s Party
I N T E R A C T I O N S / / Familiar face with Russian Essence and a Nobody from Across the Pond}

---

Contrary to what the popular opinion about Kavi Salvador was, he wasn’t the whole round moon of an asshole - just some people rubbed him the wrong way. The thing about Kavi was that he often felt like people judged him simply because he enjoyed tormenting the nerds every now and then - well, one nerd named Elijah Abrams. He didn’t like him that much and Elijah didn’t like Kavi, so it worked out well for the both of them. Kavi could torment him and Elijah simply waited until it was over and went about his day. But when it came to others like Jordan Henderson, the teen felt like there was potential not to be a total ass - the kind of guy that Stella often saw in him. Why that one felt the need to see the kind of guy he used to be has always been a mystery to Kavi.

So that’s why he didn’t jump down this British guy’s throat as soon as he talked, despite how much of Kavi’s being was telling him to make some kind of stereotypical quip about the stereotypical English jock. Or how stupid his accent was, but Kavi wasn’t going to do that because of one reason: he’d rather not get turned down by Ariel, not when she was looking oh-so-good. The additional fact was he and Ariel -at least from where Kavi stood - were friendly. So why ruin that by being a dick to a guy who he didn’t have any real problems with.

He didn’t bother speaking to Jordan, though he did return his handshake, arrogantly smirking at him. It was that type of smirk that spoke volumes without Kavi having to actually utter a single word. It basically said ‘I’m better than you and you know it’.

After that moment faded, he went back to ignoring the polite turd. “Well, ya know, I figured El Asso deserved only the best that Kavi Salvador had to offer,” he bragged, smiling. He leaned in such a way that sort of shoved Jordan away so that Kavi had Ariel to himself - well, at least was within her immediate radius. “Seeing as how this is a party and all,” Kavi smiled at Ariel while also giving Jordan a superior gaze before returning to Ariel’s shorter form, “let's go dance.” Kavi didn’t really wait for a response. Being the kind of dominant teen he was, he led Ariel away by taking her hand.

_{L O C A T I O N / / Diablo's Party
I N T E R A C T I N G W I T H / / Stella’s worst nightmare, probably.}

”Of all people to throw a party and of all people to send out that massive feeler for their party, why in the holy father’s name did it have to be him?”

Over and over again, Stella Lambert had been pacing back and forth in her room, going back to the thought of forgetting that party and maybe taking a drive to Miami and just forget about everything that god-forsaken asshole, Santiago Fernandez did to her. Just the very thought of that tall, smoking-hot, white-as-all-hell latino, God among men, douche made her blood boil. And yet, at the same time, the way he made her feel for the first nights she had given him her time of day, she remembered how utterly charming and soothing he was not only to the eyes but in how she was treated by him. Every moment of the one date they had was perfect. He was so romantic and so thoughtful.

But, of course, as with all things, there was a downside. How could she forgive this man who she thought actually cared for her not think of her feelings when she saw him with that April girl? It riles her up like nobody else in the world could. Someone so infuriating that she hated with all that she was and, yet when she was in his presence, she found herself weak around him. It was like this man had a hold over her that she didn’t know how to control. She was just that dumb girl who would fall into a habit of being drawn to Santiago whether or not she wanted to.

“Just keep it calm, Stella. Remember! You are over him now. He is with April - or at least that’s what it appeared to be like.”

Stella was having what some would call ‘A Stella Moment’. She often freaked out about a lot of things. Sometimes they were justified, while at other times, it seemed she’d make a big deal about nothing. To her, anytime that Diablo was involved, it was always justified. She never understood how such a seemingly good guy could cause such terror within Stella’s fragile heart. Just the thought of him made her feel weak and hate herself just as much. Every time she was near him, equally, her blood boiled and heart fluttered. No amount of - well anything - she did would ever compare to the complicated relationship she had with the guy. Even after all that he did to her, she couldn’t get him out of her head.

Continuously going back and forth, Stella never realized that she was out of her home. Both of her parents were working tonight. They left a note for her that told her they wouldn't be back until at least sunrise, so she knew that she would be home alone. Why stay there when she could just go to a party.

Yeah, some self-control you have, Stella…

A few curses, miles, and several going back and forth moments later, Stella Lambert was outside of Diablo’s house. She saw people were going through the house. A lot of people were actually present it was kind of overwhelming, yet comforting, for Stella. If this was going to be one of those parties that favored quantity over quality, perhaps she wouldn’t see Diablo. And if that was the case, she suddenly felt a hell of a lot better about letting herself enjoy a party.

Game face = On!

Stella brought her tiny frame through the front door, slipping past some bigger guests who showed up and she was in. Quickly, she assumed her natural state of following the leader, which brought her straight outside. “WHOA!” Stella said n a not-so-quiet voice, eyes coming her way. Like the gal she was, Stella smiled, letting them see a cheery white girl. Adding to that specific visage, dressed in a pink shirt that came to a stop mid-stomach and revealed a lot of arm skin, as well as a pair of some too-short-for-her-own-good lower body wear, Stella was ready to P-A-R-T-Y!

And the first thing she did was take her assumed position on top of the grotto, shouting and she took a dive into the pool, which was a glaring success!

[Silent Whispers]

---

---

---

---

_{Friend's House ► Santiago's Party
Interacting With: Nathan, NPC
Outfit}

---

Marcus had tied a knot on his swim trunks then looked over at his friend, who was still deciding on what pairing of swim trunks he wanted to showcase tonight. Marcus rolled his eyes then put a plain white t-shirt over the top half of his body before he walked back into his friend's room and threw his arms up in the air with a huff. "Dude, come on! Just picking something already." He said as his friend turned towards him with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I am not sure what to pick." Nathan, his friend said in response as Marcus walked over there and pointed at his own swim trunks.

"I am wearing Superman so you can wear your Batman." Marcus said as he rummaged through the drawers then grabbed his friend's Batman swim trunks and handed them to him.

"I don't want to wear those." Nathan muttered with a groan following those words. Marcus rolled his eyes again as he tried to hand the swim trunks towards Nathan again.

"Either you put them on or I will put them on for you. Take your pick." Marcus said with slight force as Nathan snatched the swim trunks from him then walked into the bathroom to change. Finally Marcus thought to himself as he jumped on Nathan's bed and grabbed one of his Sports Illustrated magazines, mindlessly flipping through it.

"I am ready. Happy?" Nathan said as he emerged from the bathroom and threw his previous clothing into a nearby hamper as Marcus looked up at him with a smile.

"Sexy." Marcus muttered first then continued on with his response. "Yes, I am happy. Now, come on." Marcus said as he grabbed Nathan by the arm and basically dragged him out of the house.

Luckily Nathan did not stay too far from Diablo so they arrived at the party in almost no time, at all. Marcus took off his white t-shirt and tossed into the backseat as he did the same with his flip-flops, too. Marcus walked side by side with Nathan, chatting and making a bet to see who was going to pull a number first. Whenever they entered into the party, Marcus broke away from Nathan momentarily as he went to get them drinks then returned by his side for the moment again. They broke away from each other to mingle with other people that were present before Marcus walked around, taking random sips from his Red Solo Cup.

[mickilennial]

---

Palm Beach, Florida
August 17th, 2018

---

Drugs, Assholes, Posers, and Casual Toxicity. As far as Marlene Lubitsch was concerned that was all there was to be had at the resident senior bash at the beginning of the term. The headline act was what she had once described to her friends as the Lifestyle of the Rich and Oblivious. But like it or not, she was here despite her personal judgment telling her it was a stupid idea. And it was a very stupid idea.

Her best friend, Beatrice Endive, had come to the party – probably out of her own innate curiosity – and Marlene (or Mara to her friends) had to play the role of “make sure bea doesn't get into trouble”. A role she was well experienced with. Though in the past she didn't have to calculate the risks of the sort of party that the school's resident playboy savant liked to hold. The fact Bea's parents were okay with their daughter going out to a party like this made Mara believe they had lost their goddamn minds. Diablo didn't hold ordinary parties; she wouldn't have given the nickname Caligula if it was just a party with a few kids drinking. As she walked through the crowds she wondered what the impact would be if she called the police to shut down the party so she could go home and Bea wouldn't be stuck among a dangerous crowd possibly doing dangerous things.

She sighed. Would it even be worth it? It's not like the idea of the police showing up had never come to mind with Diablo before. All it would accomplish would be a mild inconvenience for Diablo and in a few weeks it would probably be back to more of the same. She knew the best option to keep an eye on her friend was to either convince her to leave or to hover over her until she got bored or the party got too loud for her to want to put up with. Either way, Whatever ended up happening, if Bea was here she was here.

She looked down on the phone, typing a text message to Bea.

I'm here. Please tell me you're still alive.

Bea would know what she meant by “alive”. It may have even amused her. It was kind of Mara's way of talking to people, mostly because asking where someone was kind of boring to her. As she waited for a response she would find a wall to lean up against and keep to herself. Mara definitely wasn't going to socialize with people if she could help it and she definitely wasn't going to touch a drop of what “Caligula” was offering. Not her interest. Not her scene. Plus, she didn't exactly like the idea of crashing her car because of an idiot decision. The idiots around her might've fancied it. But her? Hell fucking no.

[Venus]

_{Starring Sonny | Marisol | Archer | Jun}

As Sonny sat there in his 2015 orange Dodge Ram, he thought about why he even had his motorcycle. Sure, the teen enjoyed the thrill of going between vehicles when he sped through the highway. The rapidly increasing winds against his clothing was so exhilarating and pumped him with such adrenaline, it almost made having it worthwhile, but then he thought of how frequently he drove his truck. Compared to the amount of days since he received both as a birthday gift when he turned sixteen, he drove his truck way more often than he did his bike. Such as now. Instead of arriving in a zooming-through-the-streets Kawasaki Ninja motorcycle, he opted for the more leisure-friendly Dodge Ram.

He didn’t know how long he was zoned out because the minute he came out of it, he heard the passenger door of his truck slam, causing the teen to look over. He briefly looked at the time and couldn’t believe how on-the-dot she was. “You know when I said ten minutes, I didn’t mean exactly ten minutes,” he rolled his eyes, smiling at Marisol.

The girl looked up from where she’d been buckling up her seat belt with a raised eyebrow. “You want me to go back?” Marisol asked him sarcastically, pointing back at her home’s front door with her thumb. “Because I can go back. Spend an extra fifteen minutes doing some gay ass thing like putting on makeup and shit.”

“Now I know you’re joking. You never put makeup on, miss ‘I’m a boy! Hear me roar!’” Sonny laughed as he started up the truck and pulled out of the parking lot and turned the truck to face the direction that Santiago’s house was. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Mari roll her eyes at him, but there was the tell-tale smile on her face that let him know she wasn’t being serious. “But as you said, time to fuck shit up, girl.”

The girl let out a loud whooping sound and knocked on the roof of the vehicle a few times before turning her attention to the road again. When noticed Sonny making the moves to turn in the direction of Diablo’s house, she suddenly put a hand on his chest. “STOP!” she cried out, effectively gaining his attention and the truck coming to a full-stop. “I told Archie and Jun we were picking them up,” Mari informed her best friend, shooting him the grimacing smile she always put up when she knew she was - or could get - in trouble.

“And when were you going to tell me this?” Sonny rolled his eyes again. He was clearly annoyed. “Nevermind that, he lives close by, right? Tell him to finish powdering his nose and be ready. I am not going to be waiting for his candy ass to be ready. My truck, my time. Be sure he knows that,” Sonny demanded, livid that Marisol couldn’t tell him this before they were already halfway to Santiago’s house. “As for Jun, tell him the same thing - just Asian-fy it.” He again told her, turning his truck around, heading straight for Archer’s home.

All throughout Sonny’s rant, Marisol had been looking out the window with raised eyebrows and a bored look on her face. No matter how dickish Sonny was on a regular basis, the promise of a party always cheered him up, to the point that he turned into a somewhat tolerable person to others. But the girl sensed that there was something more pissing him off beyond the whole ‘you didn’t tell me we were giving a ride to other people’ thing. That he would answer was a very long shot, but Mari figured she would ask anyway to let him know she at least gave a shit.

"We gonna talk about the stick up your ass, or do we pretend it's not there?" the brunette asked bluntly, turning her serious green eyes to the boy sitting next to her.

Right. Marisol obviously knew him better than anyone did. Of course she could tell something else was bothering him. “What else do you think? My fucking mom is on my case, wanting to know my life plans and all that shit,” he said, turning a corner. He saw Archer’s house wasn’t far. At the end of the block, it looked like.

“Ah…” was the only thing Marisol would say at first, grimacing in sympathy. “That shit is fucking annoying as hell, man. I figure I’ll start hearing the same thing soon. But, like, just don’t stress over it. Next time she asks just come up with some bullshit, convincing answer and leave it at that. Say you want to be a fucking engineer or some shit. Folks love hearing fancy titles like that.”

“You honestly think my mom would believe that, of all people, I would have any interest in becoming someone like Howard-Fucking-Wolowitz?” Sonny let out a loud laugh, finding the suggestion of becoming an engineer funnier than what his mother’s reaction to that would be.

“True…” she mused, but then noticed the slight change in his voice, and instinctively place her hand on his free right one. “Just… Don’t think about it too much, Son. At least not tonight, anyway.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

It was just a short moment later that Sonny arrived at the end of the block, seeing Archer waiting for them. “Amazing. He actually listened for once,” Sonny commented at how surprised he was about Archer’s punctuality.

As the huge orange truck rolled up Archer couldn't help but roll his eyes. Of course Sonny needed the largest truck in Crown Heights. When the pair reached his driveway Archer exhaled in preparation for what awaited inside the car. He opened the door to the backseat and poked his head in.

“So why in all that is holy are we going to this?” he whined as he buckled his seat belt.

“Feel free to walk if you don’t like it, Tinkerbell.” Sonny retorted, which earned him a scathing glare from Marisol.

“Thanks for answering the question, ass-breath.” Archer huffed already annoyed, settling back into the plush seating. Say what you will about Sonny's truck, the inside was really nice. Looking around, Archer’s eyes fell on the center console, where Marisol's hand rested on Sonny's. The young man shot his friend a look and cleared his throat.

Marisol quickly moved her hand away from Sonny’s as if it had burned her. She just knew the new passenger would have a few things to say about it later, so best not give him more reason to say stuff. Instead, she turned back to Archer with a teasing smile. “We’re going to Santiago’s because we need to get our asses out of our houses and go have some fun,” she declared, shifting back to her previous front-facing position.

Sonny didn’t bother responding in turn to Archer. He didn’t see a point. Only thing he wanted to focus on was that Marisol had claimed the passenger front seat and he was forced to sit in the cramped backseat. On that note, Sonny started to drive out of the block that Archer lived at, taking a right turn, going towards where he remembered Jun lived.

Along the way, Sonny decided to turn on some music. He pressed the power button on his stereo. As a song would turn on, of all tracks that would play, that one song that Sonny remembered had played during the night at the lake that he and Marisol shared. “What are the odds?” He laughed, slyly looking Mari’s way.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” the young woman muttered, her cheeks reddening as she quickly caught onto the song playing. She turned her head in the direction of the window, away from both Sonny and Archer’s eyes. It was as if the universe was hellbent on embarrassing Marisol, and this made her nervous as fuck.

Deciding to ignore whatever tender moment the couple up front were having, Archer decided to concentrate on his phone where he was typing a text message to Kavan:

Please tell me you are going to this shindig! Save me!

He pressed send and looked out the window at the huge houses flashing by, recognizing that they were getting close to the area where Jun lived.

Sonny smiled, daring his teasing eyes in the direction that Marisol seemed to be avoiding. Her anxiety obvious to him, though he happen to notice Archer appeared to be confused by the reactions of Sonny and Marisol when the song came up. Perfect. He took this opportunity to not only stick it to Archer by further confusing him but also teasing Marisol just a bit. He would do this by turning up the song.

“You know, I really love this song. The kind of track that’s perfect for the summer. Wouldn’t you agree, Lil Shady?”

Not once taking her eyes off the window, Marisol made a fake sound of agreement and began to chew on her thumb nail, praying for the song to be over soon.

The cadence of Sonny’s voice suggested he was up to something and Archer usually wanted nothing of it but he took the bait this time. He narrowed his eyes and bit his lip as to not blurt something out, assuming the asswhipe didn’t know that Archer was aware of the pair doing the devil’s tango during the summer.

“How so?” he played along, acting dumbfounded.

“Just listen to it. Wouldn’t you want this song to play during your summer party? It speaks something to you, doesn’t it?”

“Can we just, like, change the station or something?” Marisol finally burst out, glaring at Sonny. “Or, better yet, how about we just listen to each other’s beautiful voices for the rest of this trip? Okay? Awesome.” She didn't wait for an answer before stretching out her hand and turning down the volume of the radio. Mari knew Sonny was doing things to purposely tease her now, and she would not stand for it. While it was the two of them, she didn't care. Hell, even with Archer around it was still tolerable. But to risk Jun finding out? She would never hear the end of it.

“Lame.” Archer offered with a small smile on his face, figuring he hadn't tortured his friend enough for dragging him out. He settled back in his seat. “I thought for a second that I was going to witness something beautiful just then, I guess it was just a regular old song.” he let out a small sigh and opened his phone again to scroll through his instagram feed not really paying any attention to what was flashing on his screen.

Sonny didn’t bother responding to either. Archer was being his usual self that would only rile up the teen even more and Marisol was likely not to particularly like what Sonny had to say, so he would simply search through the local radio stations, stumbling on another alternative rock station that played in the area.

When he finally stumbled on a station, Sonny turned the volume up a few clicks. And at the same time Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon played, they had arrived at Jun Wang’s house. In his mind, he was thinking how much fun this really was going to be: Jun just coming in as another song that played during that night started playing. He was loving this, but he knew well Mari wasn’t.

”Hurry it up, Jungkook,” Sonny shouted to the baseball cap-wearing Jun.

“Took you long enough.” Jun uttered back as he entered the truck, taking his seat next to Archer. “Anyway, what's up? Everyone ready for El Diablo?”

Archer gave a grumbling grunt in response finally looking up from his phone to playfully punch his friend on the shoulder as a greeting.

“Fuck Diablo -human piece of shit. I'm ready to get Lit. As. Fuuuuuuuck.” Marisol piped up from the front passenger seat, turning around long enough to shoot Jun a grin and fistbump him in greeting.

“You know, alcohol isn’t that hard to get a hold of. You don’t need Diablo to get white girl crazy.”

The girl snorted, shaking her head at him. “Who said anything about alcohol? I'm talking about that premium ass strawberry kush you can find at his parties. Fucking amazing, man. I can already smell it…” she trailed off, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath as if she could literally smell and feel the heavenly herbal berry smoke scratching her throat and filling up her lungs. Delicious.

Archer also let out his own snort at Mari’s comment. She hated that he smoked, but hearing her speak about that dank kush just rang a little hypocritical in his ears. “But what will mother dearest say about that?” he asked in a fake innocent tone. The boy knew he is scared of Soleil, and can just imagine how the girl felt about her mother.

“What mother dearest doesn't know can't hurt her,” Mari said with a smug smile and a shrug. “Plus, mother dearest used to blaze it up too back in the day. She can't really say much.”

“Sonny! Turn this truck around! This girl is going straight to rehab! She needs help! She’s in too deep!” Jun’s tone was exaggerated and melodramatic; speaking to the idea that this was one of those “jokes” he found so funny. And Marisol’s giggle was proof of it.

Already, Sonny knew this was going to be a long drive to Santiago’s house. ”Then what does that say about you, hmm?” Sonny laughed, rolling his eyes at Jun.

“Sir, sir. Drugs are bad. I would never partake in such a scandalous and deviant habit.”

“Nobody says you have to do drugs, Jun.”

“But how will I ever become one of the cool kids?”

“You are in the wrong car, bud!” Archer said and let out a laugh patting Jun on the back.

Sonny gave Jun a smile through the mirror, chuckling lowly at Archer’s comment. Stranger things have happened.. ”Don’t worry, Jun. You never had a shot of being a cool kid,” Sonny retorted, earning himself another glare from Marisol.

“I guess I’ll have to be content with being a misfit. Such a shame for my hopes and dreams though, but I guess this is America after all.” Jun smirked, possibly at Sonny’s expense.

“That’s the spirit, Chopsticks!” Sonny expressed a fake tone of support like the Top Hat guy from that old show Rocket Power.

Among the back and forth comments that Sonny and Jun exchanged, it hadn’t even donned on the Drake teen that Santiago’s house was just up ahead. Though music was playing through his truck, the sounds of that god-forsaken music that Santiago always seemed to fancy was so glaring loud that it caused Sonny to visibly wince out of pure annoyance. There was no way in hell he was going to subject his precious truck to the torture of that shit-quality music, so he opted to park a few houses down. They could spare a few minutes of walking. It wasn’t going to kill them.

“Okay, everyone out!” Sonny ordered, looking at all three of them before he opened up the driver side door, pocketing the keys into his shorts. “Time to fuck shit up and show Dassblo why the Misfits are the best around these parts.” In his head, Sonny knew he sounded like Clint Eastwood from one of those old westerns his Grandpa Leo liked to watch.

“Shit, wait!” Marisol suddenly exclaimed after reaching for her pockets and not finding what she was looking for. She quickly opened up the truck’s glove box to find the beloved stash of emergency chewing gum she kept there for situations like this. Letting out a relieved sigh, the girl popped two pieces of gum into her mouth before shutting the compartment and turning to the guys with a mischievous smile. “Okay. Ready, boys.”

As they started to get closer to the devil’s den, the scale of the party grew clearer. There were dancing bodies all over the property, and the music was so loud that Archer was frankly surprised that the cops weren’t already here. But knowing Santiago, he probably had connections that kept them from arriving tonight.

He turned to the group, walking backwards to keep momentum. “If I get called fag tonight - even once! - I am leaving!” he exclaimed, looking mostly in Mari’s direction as they entered Santiago’s house. He pointed to the refreshment table indicating that’s where they should be.

“Don't worry, Archie. I'll break the nose of anyone that tries,” Mari told him, placing a reassuring arm around his waist as they led the way to the drinks table. Archer returned the sentiment with a small kiss on the top of the girl’s head.

“Just remember your boxing stance!” Jun uttered as they approached the table.

“Always, baby.”

As the foursome finally arrived at the table and began to pour themselves some drinks, Marisol noticed a ridiculously tall (and attractive, though she would keep this for herself) guy standing near them all by himself. Upon a closer look, the girl recognized him as the new kid from England whom she had a few classes with. He looked to be cool enough, and it sucked that he was alone. So, Mari being Mari, she took the next logical step.

“Hey,” she called out to the guy, in a surprisingly commanding tone for such a short girl. “You’re that new Brit kid from English, right?” Mari waited until she had his answer before continuing. “Cool. I’m Marisol, and these are my buddies: Archer, Sonny and Jun. We’re The Misfits. Welcome to Palm Beach.”