[IC] ♔ ♕ 𝐇𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

[Horangi]

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𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓲 𝓡𝓪𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓸𝓼𝓸

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_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. Anima Hotel & Spa ⤏ 420
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 THIS IS NOT FUN
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝 Not Dressed Yet
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. The Queen + Mr. Bajoliere@KZOMBI3 & The VIP @Ken}

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When Lora opened her eyes, an empty bed greeted her. The thick duvet was tangled around her legs and doing a poor job of covering her nakedness, but the cool air caressing her ass was the least of her worries.

Disappointment settled on her chest as she ran her hand over the wrinkled sheets of the spot next to her. There hadn’t been a single morning in her two years attending OIC that she woke up snuggling another person. The pristine shape of the hotel room, aside from the messy bed, made her feel lonely. When she stood in front of the mirror assessing the “lovebites” left behind from the previous night, she only felt emptier and more bitter than usual. Before those feelings could swallow her, she rescheduled her pity party for another day with a little sniffle.

Lora exited the hotel room with a pep in her step. She took the stairs two at a time and slapped the keycard down on the check-in counter, offering a salute as she practically skipped out of the lobby of the five-star hotel. At the very least, whenever she woke up in these rooms by herself, they were always high quality and at the expense of someone other than herself, “Whatever.” she slid into the back of the Uber and rustled her loose curls in the rearview mirror, angling herself and admiring the handiwork of the pick-me-ups she carried around.

“OIC? The dorms?” The Uber driver grumbled; his eyes narrowed at her through the same mirror she blew kisses to herself through.

“Yep. Thanks.” She replied, adding an emphasized pop of her lips on her first word and brushing off any other conversation with her second. Lora hated small talk, and Mr.Ooverjaver didn’t seem like the type to enjoy it either. So she suffered through whatever terrible sportsball talk show he listened to and slid right out of the car before it came to a complete stop when they reached the extravagant dormitory building. Lora gave a wiggle of her fingers as a wave before turning around and skipping towards the large glass front doors.

Usually, she’d try to sneak into the room, but with the bright sun shining outside, she figured her sister would already be awake. So she entered with a bang, quite literally, the heavy door hit the adjacent wall, and of course, she tripped over the strewn about pairs of designer shoes by the entrance, barely catching herself from going headfirst into kitchen cupboards, “Sister! Please yell at me to clean up after myself. This is definitely not up to fire code or whatever they said when they made us take down the string lights a week ago.” Lora babbled as she kicked off her heels, leaving them perfectly in the middle of the walkway as she entered into their shared living space. She gave a healthy smack to her sister’s ass before deciding to collapse on top of Zinnia, back to back with her sister, “Goooood morning, how the hell are you still sleeping when it’s so bright in here?”

Lora fully intended on smothering her sister with all of her love, but the singing of her phone had her jumping up to retrieve it. A snort sounded as she read Tyler’s text, and she was quickly able to find the bulletin board. She dropped a follow on Ms.Fortune’s socials and even opted to sign-up for notifications for new posts.

To: Mi amore 💛
At least we look hot in our pictures, and our nicknames are cute. 😌 The VIP??? Okay, we love that for you, queeeen! Who knows, maybe it’ll be fun, we’ll have like our own little TMZ trying to catch us being bad girls 🤪

Lora hit send just as a new post from Ms. Fortune herself dinged her phone. Tapping on the notification banner had her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at a picture of her cozying up to some trash, “What the fuck?”

Lora’s playful mood quickly soured as annoyance and worry coursed through her. The first look at the bulletin board had ended begun with seeing her face and finished with admiring Tyler’s. A second look through ALL the faces had her fingers shaking as she typed on her phone, “This is not fun.”

To: Mr. Bajoliere
Good morning sir, I’m going to be running a bit late, but I promise I’m on my way!

To: Mi Amore 💛
Okay, I take back what I said! THIS IS NOT FUN! DID YOU SEE THE REST OF THE PEOPLE???? Also, that recent post??? I’d rather throw myself off a building than kiss that asshole again. Where the fuck is that picture from??? you don’t think “Plato” is subscribed to these updates.

[smarty0114]

_{A @smarty0114 & @viktorseier collab, with a special guest appearance by @nasty}

_{Location: 155 Cafe}

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“You better not have gotten me anything shitty, Callaghan.”

Jamie was embarrassed by the little flip his stomach did at the sound of Axel’s voice, shamed by the speed with which his head turned to face him, and mortified by the sudden heat in his cheeks. Nobody seemed to say his last name quite so perfectly. He steadied himself, hopefully fast enough to escape Axel’s notice, and pushed a coffee cup and a small bag across the table. “Coffee and a breakfast sandwich, because I’m a wonderful person,” Jamie said, taking a sip of his own drink just to have something to do with his hands. “Are you grumpy cause of your brother, or cause of the bulletin board?”

“Who’s cranky? I’m fucking ecstatic. You can tell by my big smile.” Axel responded with a forced, sarcastic smile, reaching out and grabbing the coffee Jamie had so gallantly bought him. “Bulletin board? The hell you’re talking about?” Making sure to completely ignore and move past the brother comment, Axel raised an eyebrow as he took a big swig.

”Okay, this is actually pretty damn good coffee.”

“You’re welcome,” Jamie said with a nod. “Hold on.” Jamie fished his phone from his jacket pocket, and unlocked, quickly locating one of the many photos of the bulletin board, currently circulating the OIC social media sphere. “This, is the bulletin board.”

Axel narrowed his eyes down at the screen, letting out a scoff.

“‘Lost Cause’... who wrote this, my fucking dad?” Not seeming too bothered, he leaned back on his seat with a shrug, the ghost of a grin on his face “At least yours is kinda cool. Snake. Pretty badass, if you ask me.”

Jamie laughed. “I don’t think it’s meant to be endearing, but I’ll take it.” Jamie’s lips parted as if another question might fall from them, but then he closed them and the question died. Of course it was there, always there in the background whenever he was with him. The way he’d skirted the mention of his brother wasn’t lost on Jamie. He knew this place was hell for Axel, and he often wondered if he was selfish for wanting him to stay. “At least somebody cares what we’re doing. Maybe it’ll be kind of fun to have a secret paparazzi running around. I’m sure there’s not much of that in Vermont.”

“You’re giving this random chick with an uninspired pun for a name way too much credit. ” He snorted, shaking his head at the boy sitting across from him, who was the only person who managed to get this many words out of Axel without getting insulted or told to fuck off “I dunno’ about fun. Not a big fan of having people all up in my business, Callaghan. You already know way too much about me to my liking.”

“Y’know I think there’s a term for that. Emotionally unavailable?” Jamie said, a smirk dancing it’s way across his face. “Not that we should normalize digital stalking or anything. Just that, this place might suck a smidge less if you opened yourself up to it.” He could think of some other ways they could make this situation suck less, but Jamie had convinced himself that those would only bring about rejection and hurt.

“Fuck off.” Axel replied, with no heat to his words and a grin on his face, knowing Jamie wasn’t exactly wrong about that “Why would I do that? I already got you bothering me, that’s bad enough.” He shrugged, taking another swig of the black, sugar-less coffee and not thinking too much into what he said.

In truth, that wasn’t the worst response Jamie could think of. Admittedly, maybe even selfishly, he enjoyed being the most important person in Axel’s OIC life. Before he could shoot back a response of his own, his phone buzzed against the table, three loud vibrations in quick succession. Only one person demanded his attention so forcefully. Rolling his eyes, he reached out for his phone and opened it up to confirm his suspicions.

From:Katie
look at what this bitch said

From:Katie
this shit can’t fly dude, dad will murder me if this becomes a thing

From:Katie
it’s scorched earth time

The texts came with an accompanying screenshot, a twitter exchange between one Kat Vaupel, and his sister. Silently, he scanned the screen, and felt as his jaw clenched ever so slightly. Jamie and Katie’s father had always been a fiery man. His anger was a wildfire, burning everything in it’s path. Katie had taken after him. Jamie on the other hand, had taken after his mother. His rage, like hers, was calm, cool, and icy. So, when he rose from the table, it was without a word, barely a flicker of disruption, aside from the way his fingernails scratched against his cuticles.

He found Kat right where he’d last seen her. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he was about to say. He wasn’t even all that sure if Axel was behind him, or if he was just watching him take a kamikaze dive straight into the ocean. Jamie was past caring about either issue. He set his phone, open to the screenshot Katie had sent him, in front of Kat. He didn’t sit. This wasn’t a conversation between friends, and he saw no reason anymore to continue those pleasantries.

“Look, if you have a problem with me, that’s fucking fine, but keep my sister out of it. You barely know me, and you sure as hell don’t know her.” Jamie wasn’t concerned if people heard, if he made a scene. “There’s a million other things you could be doing to help people, but instead, you’re pulling out your soapbox and doing what exactly? Putting the kids of some washed up director in their place? Give her a medal and call her Chief Comrade everybody!”

Kat glanced lazily at Jamie's phone screen, shoulders slumped, eyes de-shined. All traces of whimsy were dashed from her mind. ”Eugh, yea-” , she said, gazing up at Jaime. ”What? Like what do you actually want me to do about this?”

She raised her shoulders in a mock shrug, holding them up for a whole second, mouth thinning into a smile that only asked why she should care. ”I posted some shit on twitter and your sister took it, like - way - too fucking seriously. I mean- I guess I knew you would. But anyway. Twitter’s hardly a fucking soapbox, you just think it’s a bigger deal than it actually is because you’re a self entitled prick who thinks everyone is paying attention to every mention of your name or whatever. I used you as an example of a systemic issue. Get over it.”

“You might not realize it, but I’m doing you a fucking favor. Katie will go full Sherman’s March on you. You think you can play in the big leagues, but you just can’t Kat. Most people wouldn’t be so accommodating as to give you fair warning. Pull this shit down, and get a journal like everyone else.”

”Um- Jaime. I don’t know how you don’t… like how don’t you know that I really don’t give a shit about these ‘big leagues’? It really- she started, before spotting Axel at the other table. ”I’m sure he gets it. Like actually, do you seriously give this much of a fuck? It’s… dude, isn’t this twitter we’re talking about?”

Jamie scoffed. “Okay Kat, fine.” He reached down and picked his phone back up, shaking his head. “You know, it’s funny how you seem to recognize that the world falls into place around people like my sister and I, and yet, you act like it’ll do the same for you.”

”Um… what? I- I literally just told you I don’t care for that. It’s absurd. I’d…” Kat started. She looked around the room, baffled, as if the right thing to say would jump out at her. ”I dunno, I’d piss on you before I let myself consider anything like that - let alone myself - important.”

Jamie began to turn away, but not without one final remark. “And, I think I will help with Jeim’s fundraiser. What can I say, I guess you’ve inspired me?”

”Uhm… okay? Good for you.” Kat said. Her eyes slid slowly down to her phone once more, never once objecting to Jaime’s leaving.

Jamie strode across the cafe, ice still running through his veins. He slid back into his seat across from Axel and felt it begin to thaw, ever so slightly. He was suddenly aware of the eyes watching him, the glances down at phones with screens he could not see. His lip found it’s way between his teeth. “I’m sorry, that was… Look I get a good vendetta, but there’s no need to bring Katie into it,” Jamie said, shaking his head like his disapproval wasn’t already obvious. He took a steadying sip of his coffee, and wondered when the arrow he’d just fired into the sky would fall.

“Jesus, stop apologizing, snake. Gotta live up to your new nickname.” Axel mouth turned upright into an amused smile, the first proper one since he’d arrived in this hellscape of a school. If he noticed the eyes on them, he didn’t care- if anything, Axel’s mood seemed to have improved significantly after seeing Jamie blow up “At least you just made my morning a little more interesting, Callaghan.”

[KZOMBI3]

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Ｔｈｅｏｄｏｒｅ Ｂａｊｏｌｉèｒｅ

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_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. Home & OIC ♛
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 Reminiscent & Wanting
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝 ♛
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. The Angel @boreas | Nicolai Bennett @WindsOfFate
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. Eloise Cooper - Bajolière; wife}

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Events of the previous night flashed through Theodore's mind as he stood against the pristine white countertop of his Rose Point bungalow. Coffee already being to pour into the tumbler placed beneath the spout. The dark hues of his Burberry suit contrasting brilliantly within the confines of his open kitchen. The kitchen of the home he shared with his wife and son. _{His family...} he thought bitterly, a scoff falling from his lips as the last of the cafe dripped into his cup. The dark roast aroma; deep, rich and slightly bitter - with the added help of chicory.

He was about to take his first sip when he heard footsteps, clad in a plum suede kitten heel and a fitted sweater dress was his wife.

The tangle of sheets, the sweet smell of vanilla and cashmere, a hint of sweet amber; warm & cozy, something he just wants to wrap himself in. Refusing to the prickling nerve telling him to get up. To get out of the sheets, out of the bed, and scurry home back to his own bed. Where his wife lay sleeping peacefully. _{His wife...} the title irked him some. It wasn't the most solid of marriages. Not any more at least. Not lately. However the nubile body beside him in those early hours of the morning - silently calling him, singing to him to stay without the help of words. Theo was torn. Ultimately deciding upon a quick escape without stirring the young woman in the hotel sheets.

It's not the first time they've been together. Spent time with one another tangled in one another. It certainly won't be the last time.

The Philosophy professor was pulled from his thoughts at the slight touch of hips on his as his wife finished filling up her own cup of coffee. A quick exchange of words, a kiss or two here and there. Something about Henry having already gone to school, carpooling with friend from down the street. A silent nod to let her know he was listening and a grunt of acknowledgement every now and then as they both continued on with their daily morning routines. Before long the both of them were swapping kisses and goodbyes and Theodore Bajolière found himself strolling the hallways towards Bennett's office within the hour; thoughts of last night's company still swimming in his head.

[Horangi]

_{^{chapter 2 : putting the ho in Homecoming.}}

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx sunny ☼ H: 74℉ L: 60℉

"Goooood evening Attawit, it is Friday, October 8th, and this is your 5 o'clock news! The city is bustling with excitement as the weekend Fall Festival has officially been kicked off! The main bulk of festivities is being held in Dewey Hills, with the parade leading off to OIC just in time for the Homecoming game! Your Oakwood Knights are facing their rivals from L.A. and are heading into Homecoming as the only undefeated team in team in the division! So make sure you get out there tonight and cheer on our boys!" "In other news, a South Korean tech company is finding headway with a new app that's recently released in the U.S., if you've noticed dings going off around you while you're shopping at Valentine's Drive, that would be the sound of "Love Alarm," an app that claims to connect to your true feelings. Is romance in the air in our city of love? Check back at 8 to learn more with Laurie. That concludes our news, have a great day and Go, Knights!" A month into the school year, and Ms. Fortune has surprisingly not ruined anyone's life yet. But our Elites have more exciting matters on their hands! A Fall Festival and Homecoming wrapped up in a single weekend. With classes out early and a bustling metropolis at their fingertips, what sort of trouble can they get into? But of course, Ms. Fortune isn't one to exist silently, she's got a surprise for her lovers and haters, a post to her blog that has everyone scrambling to get on an elite guest list, so ladies, gents and, enbys, it's time to secure a shovel and get to digging, better to get someone before they get you. 『 xσxσ. 』

[AlteredTundra]

^{The following is a flashback set before the current skip}
_{a @metanoia & @smarty0114 collab}
^{Location: 155 Cafe}

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“What the fuck is with that thing anyways? Is that like, real? Like do people actually care about what we do?”

Andre found himself smiling, looking up at Charlie after a moment of glancing down as he set his backpack on the floor. It was leaning against his ankle. As he was looking at Charlie, he remembered he saw that the person responsible, this Miss Fortune, which Andre doubted was her actual name, he was still pretty irate that everyone on that board was given a single label. He couldn’t free himself of this anger because he really hated that, probably more than he was about being labled The Sloth.

“I would say no, but this -- what she call herself? Miss Fortune?” He laughed in a low tone, “I guess they -- I’m using the royal ‘They’, by the way -- think we’re all so fascinating that we, apparently, are so interesting. I mean, I’m not saying we are boring but I don’t think we’ve done anything to be the focus of someone’s little J. Jonah Jameson ripoff of trying to make us look like bad people or something.” He allowed himself to take in a breath. “Like how does me being me deserve to be labeled a Sloth? I mean with my roommate, it’s difficult to get any sleep anyways.”

Charlie let out a sigh, and shook her head. “I’d rather be the Sloth than the Brat.” The unflattering nickname was still chief amongst Charlie’s thoughts, but it did bring her some comfort to hear Andre bemoan his own label. It was a small, but much needed, reminder that this was not normal. This was some fucked up game, and she didn’t have to play if she didn’t want to. “Hey, maybe if you fix my hunk of junk laptop, I can get her to give you a new one?” Charlie said, lips curling up into a smile.

Without another word, she leaned over and pulled out her relic of a laptop, a thick gray brick that could’ve passed as an antique from the Apollo missions, and set it on the table, sliding it over towards Andre. The beast, which Charlie had affectionately named Bertha, had been with her through most of her education, and despite many close calls, always seemed to come back from the edge of certain death. “Soooo, I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she’s decided that she no longer wants to turn on, and I really need her to turn on so, please Doctor, save her for me?”

Andre smiled, laughing at her last comment as he took Charlie’s computer. “I doubt one simple act will change her mind, but let me see, anyway.” He set it to his left, opening it up. As he tried to boot it up, what she said rang true. He couldn’t even get it to boot up after he tried a few tricks. After about a minute of trying most of the immediate solutions he thought would work, he turned to Charlie. “Any chance you spilled any liquid on it? Because unless some liquid of some kind got into the motherboard, we’re probably looking at an internal power issue. In that case, I could try and work on it today, but I don’t know..” He looked down at the laptop, something of a frown on his face.

Charlie winced. “There may have possibly been an accident of sorts… wherein some chicken flavored ramen water found it’s way into Bertha’s vicinity. So, yeah, what I’m saying is that there’s a chance.” That one had admittedly been Charlie’s fault, but hey, a girl can’t help being uncoordinated. Clumsiness was a curse from which she would never be freed. “Is that bad? I feel like the look you’re giving me means that’s bad?”

“Well, it is bad, but for more than just the fact you spilled something on it. That itself will take some time trying to repair. But..” He paused dramatically (unintentionally, of course), looking at Charlie, hiding a smile behind a neutral expression. “How are you going to choose chicken over beef? Everyone knows beef is the superior flavor!”

“You’re wrong, but it’s really cute that you think you’re right,” Charlie said. “Chicken ramen is king. Trust me, Rich Boy, I think I know my ramen,” Charlie grinned, a devilish sort of smile that implied her new nickname was not completely undeserved.

And there it was. Andre was kind of surprised that it took her this long to mention, in some way, that he had that famous name. Though, he was a bit insulted that she used it as a front to claim he didn’t ride the struggle bus, too. “And I don’t?” He gave her a half-smile. “Sure, I may have grown up rich, but what I’m doing for you and your probably busted laptop -- no offense -- is my only source of income. And I know for a fact that beef is the god of the instant ramen flavors. So, clearly you’ve been misinformed. Might want to tell your stomach that.” If he were texting, this would be the part where he’d send a tongue-face emoji, but alas it would be weird if he did that in public.

Charlie bit back a retort she might’ve levied against someone with far fewer good intentions. Andre meant well, and she didn’t really know him well enough to lump him in with all the other spoiled rich kids who felt so hellbent on reminding her of her circumstances. Still though, she suspected that no matter what he said, his family wasn't about to leave him high and dry. Even if they were, she’d met people worse off. People whose family’s had nothing to withhold from them in the first place. “Oh I was just teasing. At least about the Rich Boy thing. I’m still right about the ramen.”

Andre was trying to learn how to not take it personally whenever someone mentioned his family’s wealth, especially when people who were his friends mentioned it. He knew it was all in good fun. Some part of him knew that it wasn’t meant ot be taken personally, yet sometimes he just can’t help it. Maybe it’s because he’s trying to prove them wrong. Maybe that’s why he opted to not use a single dime his folks put into his school account. He knew his mother didn’t want him to struggle financially, but he refused it. It’s why he set up a secondary account that had the earnings he made from fixing computers and tutoring.

But he had to stop thinking about that. And as he did, he looked at Charlie for a second, Andre just smiled. “Agree to disagree, Charlie. And don’t think I won’t fight you on it. Unlike your preference of ramen flavors, I’m no chicken.” He tried to tease back. Andre wasn’t the best at it, but he was getting there.

Charlie laughed. “Don’t ever change, Mossos.” She let out a final breath as her laughter slowed to a stop. “So I can pa-” Her next words were cut off by the sound of a voice, suddenly raising a few octaves. She turned, searching for the source of the sound, and found the male half of the Callaghan twins venturing into screaming territory with Kat. Charlie liked to think of herself as averse to gossip and scandal, and yet, the exchange managed to hold her attention. When Jamie finally let it drop (what it was didn’t seem obvious to her) she turned back to Dre, eyebrows raised. “Trust fund doesn’t cover therapy I guess.”

For a moment, Andre was confused. That was, however, he followed where Charlie’s gaze had been. That and his ears heard some bits and pieces. He couldn’t make it out completely, but seeing one of the Callahan siblings and Kat raising their voices made him feel immensely uncomfortable. He tried to hide as much of it as he could from Charlie, but with how she was centering her gaze on him, that was proving difficult to do. It just brought Andre back to when his own siblings would fight. Whether it was petty squabbles between Ariana and Ella or more intense ones between Dante and Romeo or even bigger screaming matches between his mother and Xander, it was really triggering for him and it showed on his face. Kat, of course, wasn’t Jaime’s sibling, but just the fact they were raising their voices was enough to bring him back to that.

“Yeah…” He mouthed in a barely-audible tone. He looked away from them and even partially away from Charlie.

If Charlie wanted to say more, she was cut off by the neverending flow of time. Her eyes caught on the luminous screen of her phone, and an expletive slipped out under her breath. “I have a class to get to, but uh, I’ll check in afterwards, yeah?” Without waiting for a response, Charlie hopped up, grabbing her bag and playfully mussing up Andre’s hair, before jetting out through the cafe doors.

[smarty0114]

Location: Katie’s Room -> OIC Office of Admissions

Mentions: The Saint @horangi | The Empress @Venus | The Pretty Face @KZOMBI3 |

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Time was moving steadily on, and Katie couldn’t help but feel like it was all going so fast. Between her classes and extracurriculars, her dad’s campaign, the oh so ominous absence of Ms. Fortune, and one baseball player in particular, her mind had not known much peace in the last three weeks.

When Birdie texted, she was glad for something to distract her. Clothes were strewn about her room in haphazard piles, the aftermath of her failed attempt to find an outfit for tonight’s events. A whisper in the back of her head had plenty to say about that, but she did her best to ignore it. Ren would help her deal with that later, and she’d help Birdie with this boy trouble now. Besides, confirming a possible stalker was way more important than trying to find an outfit that said, “I’m fun and different, but still classy and way out of your league.”

Growing up surrounded by wealth and status, Katie had learned a thing or two about digging up dirt. Finding out where someone went to school, now, that was usually easy. If she’d been a normal girl, she might’ve sat on her phone for the next hour, scrolling through the various Elliots of the world, trying to match one with the descriptions she’d gotten from Birdie. Katie wasn’t normal though. She had connections, and she liked to use them. Time wasted, was time lost, after all.

Luckily for her, Mr. Callaghan hadn’t lost all of his contacts at OIC. One in particular, was a family friend, one who owed his job in the admissions office to a letter of recommendation from her father. Grant was a few years older than her and Jamie, and his dad had been her grandfather’s favorite driver. The Callaghan’s put Grant through school, and always treated him like one of their own. He’d been close with the twins, closer than close with Katie some might’ve said, but that was a long time ago now. Katie always thought that was normal, that that was just how her family was. Generous. She would learn, and later accept, that she was wrong. Grant, and all the other people her family liked to lift up, were just investments. Today she figured she’d collect.

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Katie walked into the Office of Admissions with her usual swagger. The interior of the building was regal, dripping with money. If she was anybody else, she might’ve stopped to admire the decor, the meticulous details, but she was a Callaghan, and wealth didn’t faze her. In the warm yellow light, she seemed to glow, luminous as she strutted across marble floors, clad in designer fabrics and extravagance.

She found Grant on the second floor, quietly tapping away at his computer. He was tall, dark hair framing a handsomely average face, green eyes tucked away behind black framed glasses. He didn’t look up as she walked over, nor as she stopped in front of his desk. Finally, Katie tapped her manicured nails against the monitor, and Grant gave her the attention she was so used to commanding, looking up at her with the startled expression of a deer about to meet the front end of a car.

“Grant Petrov, is that any way to greet a friend?” Katie tilted her head and smiled, fluttered her eyelashes just a little too much to be unaware of what she was doing. Of course, she never was. She knew she was gorgeous, knew that men fell for that kind of shit, and was certainly not going to waste a gift she’d been so generously given.

She knew too, that Grant had never really gotten over their summer all those years ago. She saw it in the flush that came to his cheeks, and the way his eyes stuck on her hair just a bit longer, the same hair she’d let him run his fingers through, when she was young and he seemed exciting. Of course, he’d only been an adventure for a moment, and then he became another mundanity. She broke it off as soon as it started, but she didn’t have any qualms about using his feelings to get what she needed. It was harmless anyways, and it wasn’t like this was something Zach needed to know about.

“Katie! Uh, hi!” Grant stammered out his response, eyes flicking everywhere but never quite landing on her face for more than a second. “What-uh I mean, erm, what are you doing here?”

“Good to see that I was missed,” Katie joked. She looked around, spotted an empty chair, and as if she owned the place, swiveled it over so that she could sit, ignorant to Grant’s attempted protestations. “So, how have you been?”

Grant looked around, like he was stuck in a cage. Katie suddenly noticed that this wasn’t the usual Grant Petrov nervousness that had been so endearing in her childhood. He was practically shaking. “Good. Good, just, y’know, working.” He practically hissed the last word at her, as if some extra force might deter her.

“Clearly. I mean like, you know, with life and everything.”

Grant sighed. “Katie, what do you want?” The look he gave her was unmistakable this time. If there were still feelings there, in those green eyes, they weren’t some misplaced love.

Confusion broke through the confident mask that Katie wore so well. “Grant, what-”

“There’s always something with you guys. It’s never enough. Fucking Callaghans. My dad drove your grandfather around for practically his entire life, but that wasn’t enough, you guys needed me too, right? Look, tell your dad it was low of him to send you here, and that-”

“Why the fuck would my dad send me?” Katie said, hushed as she could with the sudden adrenaline of her rage beginning to course through her. The mention of her father wormed it’s way into her brain. Last she heard, Grant and her father had been fine. When had the world gone upside down? “Look, obviously we aren’t as cool as I thought we were, but-”

“I mean, are you shocked? Really? I wasn’t going to be okay with you running me around on some leash all my life, Katie. I used to think you were really something, but you know what Katie? You’re just like your dad. Like a fucking truffle pig, just tracking down people you can use.”

Truthfully, if she hadn’t been doing this for Birdie, she would’ve hit him. Anger bubbled in her, hot and dark and mean. She bit the inside of her lip, and stayed silent for a moment. Deep down, she had this sinking feeling that he was right. Not because she was insecure, but because she knew it was true. She’d thought it enough herself, had pondered over this mistake, and all the ones after that seemed to wear his face. Would this be how Zach saw her, seven years from now?

She let out a long breath, and spoke. “Grant, we can go over all the ways I’ve fucked things up sometime over dinner, my treat, but right now, I’m trying to help my friend. I just need to run a name by you, that’s it. It’s probably only like, a mild invasion of privacy, and if you were in the mood to hear the story, which you’re clearly not, you’d probably be on my side.” This wasn’t Katie as she usually was, at least not completely. This was Katie as the guards lowered their spears, vulnerable, at least ever so slightly.

Grant stared back at her for, and for a moment she thought she’d failed. “One name.”

Katie grinned. “Elliot Wood? Woodward? I don’t know his last name for sure, but he’d be a recent transfer.”

Grant turned to his computer and the keyboard let out a quick beat as his fingers fell against it. “I’ve got an Elliot Underwood. UCLA transfer.”

“Anybody else?”

“He’s the only one this year.” Grant said. There was still a terseness to his voice, but it had softened somewhat. Somehow, she felt worse about that; that she’d done such a number on him, he couldn’t even hate her properly.

“That works. Thank you, Grant. Seriously.” She went to place a hand on his shoulder but thought better of it. There was a rift between them that she hadn’t noticed, and it had thrown her for a loop. She was used to being on top of everything, in control of everything. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she couldn’t shove away the doubt creeping it’s way into her mind. She got up to leave, and as she did, Grant let her name slip from his mouth, this time without the hard edges of earlier.

“If you stopped sprinting for a second, things might seem easier, y’know?”

Katie looked at him and smiled, softly. “Wouldn’t the world like that?” She turned and walked away without another word. She couldn’t imagine a world where she wasn’t running all the time, spinning as many plates as she could, especially now. Suddenly, she had a friend to help, a father to look into, and a budding romance to keep alive. There wasn’t time to stop.

[KZOMBI3]

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𝓔𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓸𝓽 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓤𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝔀𝓸𝓸𝓭

---

_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. OIC Office of Admissions | Memory Lane
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 Sleuthing
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝 ✘
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. The Pretty Face | The Tyrant @smarty0114
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. Grant Petrov}

---

Golden light cascaded through the open window as the wind took her locks of sun kissed hair and whipped it around her like a halo. The salt in the air burned against his own flesh, as if to mortally wound him worse than the sun's rays earlier in the day. He just couldn't help but to take his eyes off the road and stare at the southern beauty sat next to him in his car. Thinking of all the fun they had had ealier; fun in the sun and all that jazz. Elliot placed a large hand on the bare skin of her thigh, rubbing gently back and forth, her attention finally on him. Where he wanted it. Needed it. How much better it would be having her so ultimately dependent on him... he sighed.

✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘

When Elliot opened his eyes he was no longer in his ar driving up and down the coast with a pretty little thing in his passenger seat. Nor was he in his own bed with her laying in a mess of herself - he caused, might he throw that little fact in there. No. He was in some apartment his family purchased last minute so he could attend his new home away from home. OIC. _{'A useless campus,'} he often thought as he strolled the quad or halls. Nothing seemed to grab his attention like UCLA but that was to be expected. This place needed to liven up and he was just the person to do so.

At least, that was until he noticed the bulletin board posted up for all the world to see. Someone calling themself "Ms. Fortune" "Cute. There may be hope for this shit hole after all..." Cognac eyes raked over the names and faces of those plastered, one in particular. A familiar face - or a few if he were honest - but one that caused him pause. The reason he was in this shit hole to begin with. The blonde "pretty face" from Texas. The one that got away. _{'Not without a few bruises,'} he laughed out loud continuing on his path towards the administrations office. A notification had caused to pull him away from his very important plans, trying to hunt track find that special friend of his. A task that would have to be pushed back to a later time. For now he had some questions for a certain admin operator.

"Like why in the fuck is my name being searched and ran through the database, Petrov?" Always with the dramatic entrances. The young man behind the counter jumped up from his position, glasses nearly slipping off his face. Green eyes stared on in surprise as he fumbled over his words trying to convey some semblance of decorum; customer service style.

"Ah, Elliot- Mr. Underwood?" The glare Elliot sent the poor guy, easily three years his senior, caused for Grant to swallow thickly and pause in his word vomit. "I was just, I mean I had been instructed to-"

"To read my files? For what purpose?"

"Uh, no not exactly." If being on Katie's bad side was an option he would gladly be on her receiving end than be anywhere near this situation. He mentally kicked himself for his potion and working at OIC. Even if they did offer benefits. If this was going to be a regular occurrence than he could find employment elsewhere. He was NOT paid enough for this shit.

Pinching the brige of his nose and sitting in a more upright position, Grant Petrov collected himself. He just needed to remember that he was the adult in all this. And it's not like Elliot Underwood had any power over him or his family. They didn't have any pillow talk to be used against him here. Not this time. Least he hoped. Shaking the intrusive thought from his mind he turned towards the younger man before him. "Now, Mr. Underwood. The policies in place are there to protect all students and staff from any untoward behavior from outside sources. I can assure you that your information was not compromised in any way shape or form. Furthermore-"

The fact that he kept a straight face through his bold faced lie spoke volumes of his character, but Elliot couldn't care less about him as a person. Only that someone was looking into him. Looking at him. A type of attention that sent an ominous shiver down his spine. _{'Ms Fortune maybe?'} Elliot drowned out his spiel of policies and regulations and other nonsense. That bit of information didn't concern him. No doubt student files were locked away with a key. A green eyed, bespectacled key...

Turning his attention back towards the Admin officer Elliot brought both hands up and slammed them down on the counter. "You control all the files in the system correct? Can see and access them all. When they come in and are edited?"

Being stopped mid sentence to be shown an interest in his line of work - if he can even call it that - threw Grant off kilter. Cautiously he nodded, afraid to speak in case his voice cracked and gave away any misunderstandings that he was up for another round of manipulation. This was perfect. Any and all information that would be needed in order to track down his little Bird would be in one place. Easy to access and gain entry. But out of the way for traditional passersby. Carding a hand through his tousled locks he situated his shoulders, standing tall and offering what he thought a suitable apology. "Thank you for your time, Petrov. Sorry to have kept you from your very tedious job. I'll see you around."

Almost as if forgetting something, Elliot turned at the door way, hand hovering over the door knob, "And this little chat," a waving motion through the air between where he stood and Grant, "Never happened. Later, chief!"

_{'Time to go Bird hunting.}

[WindsOfFate]

_{Location: Music Club ===> Sound Check
Mentions: Riley Antinori
OOTD}

---

---

Jeim sat in the room with his fellow peers as the president of their club waited for the rest of the members to show up. He listened as some held side conversations. One of them looked up at the Club President and sighed before explaining to him that some of the members were in class and wouldn’t be able to make it. Jeim, as Vice President of the Music Club, stayed silent because he already knew what the meeting was about. Their illustrious leader had thought it a good idea to bring in musical acts on top of those in the club who would be performing for Homecoming. Jeim wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he always wanted to showcase the talent at OIC above all.

“Thank you all for making it on such short notice. I wanted to let the majority of you know that it has been decided, amongst those performing at the homecoming festival, two additional acts have been added. These acts are popular musicians in this day and age and will bring more attention to OIC.”

Everyone gathered looked at one another before shrugging their shoulders.

“So far we only have two members of the club performing. Each of you is entitled to three or four songs, and you can have dancers. I got it approved by the Headmaster so we are good to go. Oh, and one more thing, as the Vice President of this club, Jeim is going to perform. He’s going to be closing out the night.”

Jeim looked up and glared. He hadn’t agreed to this, but he had to set an example at all times. Sighing, he forced a smile and threw up a peace sign with his fingers.

“We look forward to all of your participation in making the Homecoming Festival an amazing event. I hear some teachers are giving extra credit for volunteers so there’s that. Let’s rock it out.”

Jeim hadn’t prepared any songs or practiced any dance moves. This was so last minute, but he had to come up with something. Homecoming was in a few days and he would have to figure out the best course of action. The Club President turned to him after everyone had departed and smiled.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to perform, but as Vice President, I figured you’d want to show them how it’s done. After all, you’re amazing. I saw the video that Riley fellow posted.”

“I just wished you’d have asked first. Homecoming is a week away, but I’ll think of something.”

“How about I take you for lunch? As a way to repay you.”

Jeim smiled.

“Fine, but no more surprises. Let’s go.”

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Homecoming…..

It was October 8th and Jeim had spent a majority of his time preparing for the Homecoming Festival. He’d finished all of his assignments early to focus on putting on a show everyone would remember. He’d even gone to the gym to strengthen his physique, not that he needed it. Being on stage was something he tried to avoid at all cost, but the Club President had roped him into this and he was one who didn’t like to disappoint others. He had managed to learn 4 songs and had choreography for two out of the four. Since he was closing the show, he wanted to set an example and showcase what the Music Club was all about.

He’d bumped into Riley who was just as excited if not more after hearing the news. Riley’s band would also be performing after Jeim worked them in for one fun fueled number to open up the concert.
Jeim was headed for soundcheck. The concert would be after the main Homecoming game. If their team won they could celebrate, but if they lost the concert would lift everyone up. It was OIC’s way of giving an afterparty even though it wasn’t.

“Jeim, are you nervous?” Andrew asked.

“Nervous is an understatement, but it should be fun. I hope.”

“You’ll be fine. I listened to the songs you sent me. Dude. Your voice. I mean c’mon. I definitely don’t understand why you’re nervous.”

“Thank you, Drew, let’s take it from the top.”

Jeim hadn’t truly told anyone else that he was going to be singing on stage. Riley was the only one of his close peers, the only one from the Elites. The nickname Ms. Fortune had given those within his circle. Those who sort of got along but didn’t really get along, but were mostly on the same level with each other and knew of one another. There were a few in the group that he actually spent time with. He wished he could spend more time with Kat because she was always roasting everyone on social media. He was quite sure if none of them knew, they’d find out from Riley.

On top of everything, Jeim was trying to hold it together. He was trying to be happy, but it was often rocky. He’d found himself in some sort of odd vortex with Zach that he didn’t like, but didn’t have the emotional strength to let go. The sex was always amazing, but that’s all it was, and Jeim wondered if he was just another notch on someone’s belt, just another toy.

He looked up from the stage and saw Riley sitting in one of the seats with a big smile on his face.

[KZOMBI3]

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𝓢𝓪𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓘𝓷𝓮𝓼 𝓢𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓸𝓼

---

_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. physically? the quad. mentally? bored.
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 bored and honestly? lonely asf
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝 ⋱
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. The Star @Horangi | The Know-it-all @nasty| The Artificer
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. The Candyman [.Horangi]}

---

Classes here were on the up and up. Attending OIC was supposed to "open doors" for her with her desired degree choice. At least that was the spiel they had given her when she showed interest in their booth at the convention. Vann Santos should have known with them being at a convention of all places that it probably wouldn't increase her chances no more than some community college. It definitely dipped into her pockets a lot deeper than she intended. _{'Can't do anything about that now,'} she thought as she situated herself on a bench. Just perched out in the sun, gathering up the rays like a lazy cat in a window.

The days were going smoothly - so far - and with all the commotion this Ms Fortuna has caused she was surprised at the lax atmosphere. Well, as lax as it could be with Homecoming just hours away. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the thought. "Didn't know universities did high school shit like this. Buuuuuuut," she reasoned with herself, "It is a chance to stir something. Maybe hit up a party." It wasn't hard to convince herself that this event could lead to bigger and better - more exciting - activities than a football game. At least one she didn't give a shit about.

As she waited outside, soaking up the sun she thought about her recent bouts of excitement. Rekindling of friendship with Eden. Rather, finding out he also attends OIC and chatting with him. It reminded her of the old days. It also reminded her of how much she misses the old days. How this new 'ship with him felt odd and out of place. Something she definitely doesn't like. Vann shook her head and made a face as if she tasted something rank. Her rendezvous with Vaupel. Tossing and turning in the sheets with the wildcat really sparked a sense of urgency within the Cuban. It was fueled with a sort of dislike. Similar to hate fucks - but without all the necessary baggage that comes from intimately hating someone. It was... exciting. Then of course her meet up with Ro at Envy - that was a fun filled night. Dancing, music, rhythmic bodies swaying together all enhanced with drugs of choice she preened at the memories.

An idea struck her and with it she rode the trail as she slipped her phone out and opened up a recent text thread with her favorite "Candyman"

To: dadddyy ro🤪
ayyy daddy whatchu doin'
im lookin' for molly you seen her

She chuckled at the nickname Ms Fortuna had dubbed him. How fitting. Though, she supposed not everyone knew about his hustle and therefore it would be a stab at his reputation. How in the world "Tuner" ruins her? She had no idea. Vann was sure she would find out soon enough. Now, it was just a waiting game. Throwing a frustrated sigh up into the air she flopped down onto the warmed concrete seat of hers.

Ever since her latest hookup the craving for touch and quality time seems to have skyrocketed. Maybe not with her per se... but someone. Others. More people? Less people? She hoped that a party would take place at some point during the weekend. Win or lose this stupid game. _{'El's gotta have something going on, yeah?'} She made a mental note to bother him about it later. A perfect place to get shitfaced and high and then fuck away any of the cloudiness that bogged down her fun. This place has seemingly caught her attention and lost it all in the span of a few minutes. On the flip side, she actually likes this place. Most of the time. It just... lacks a certain kick in the ass. Pretentiousness oozes outta the cracks like sweat from tourists in Miami. The Miami native shuddered at the memory as she continues lounging in the quad.

Taking in the scene around her, people making their way to and from classes, chatting away animatedly large grins plastered on their faces - it sent a pang of jealously through her. Vann wanted that close connection with people. Didn't help that most people tended to be on the receiving end of her bite more-so than a friendly joke or banter. With a heavy sigh she looked to her screen once more. A new app, one that was promoted heavily across all other platforms, as being able to notify the user for "love" was there. Calling out to her, making it's presence known and wanting to be used. Her well manicured finger hovered over the app icon. An internal battle waging as to whether or not she was bored enough. She obviously was to install the stupid thing. But to open and use it? Psht. C'mon. Right? Another look around the quad and she had her answer.

"What's the worst that could happen?"