Simple idea:
I'm looking for someone capable of playing as a female classmate to my soft boy Will.
18 years old, he's living in an abusive home. Having nowhere to go, he's discovered sleeping on the streets by Y/C. Of course, she offers to take him in, even if for a night or two.
You can write her however you want, but I love the idea of her being a sort of popular bully who picked on them without realising what their home life was like.
~~~~
Rain.
Icy cold rain poured down from the deep, dark grey clouds above coating everything in a horrid, damp film. The roads were flooded in places, and anyone unlucky enough to have been caught in this horrendous weather would have been soaked through in mere seconds.
One of these unlucky souls was one William “WIll” Carter. He was sat with his knees drawn to his chest, back against the wall of a store as he attempted to take refuge in an alleyway. He couldn’t bare to go home where he’d be in danger, but he couldn’t go to a homeless shelter or a motel as he didn’t have enough money for a room. He didn’t want to seek help at school either, knowing if his home issues had been undetected for so long that nobody would care now. He was the quiet kid who slipped through the cracks of the social system, and was too scared to advocate for himself.
To classmates, he was just that “weirdo”. The kid with dirty clothing, who smelt of stale sweat and damp clothing. It wasn’t that he didn’t try to keep clean, but only being able to shower after gym or if he could sneak into somewhere for quick stand-up wash in a sink using cheap gels. His blonde hair was dirty, and he hated how he felt. He wanted to get clean somewhere, clean his clothing. Just feel better in general, even if nobody else cared.
Thunder boomed and lightning cracked, and he flinched. He drew into himself more, stomach growling and pain running through his skinny frame. He rested his head on his knees and just started to cry. His clothing was drenched though, and the mud and dirt washed up on the ground by the rain clung to his bare feet and the bottom of his jeans. His shoes had been taken by another homeless guy who’d threatened him for them, and he felt his own safety was more important than his damned socks and shoes.
I'm looking for someone capable of playing as a female classmate to my soft boy Will.
18 years old, he's living in an abusive home. Having nowhere to go, he's discovered sleeping on the streets by Y/C. Of course, she offers to take him in, even if for a night or two.
You can write her however you want, but I love the idea of her being a sort of popular bully who picked on them without realising what their home life was like.
~~~~
Rain.
Icy cold rain poured down from the deep, dark grey clouds above coating everything in a horrid, damp film. The roads were flooded in places, and anyone unlucky enough to have been caught in this horrendous weather would have been soaked through in mere seconds.
One of these unlucky souls was one William “WIll” Carter. He was sat with his knees drawn to his chest, back against the wall of a store as he attempted to take refuge in an alleyway. He couldn’t bare to go home where he’d be in danger, but he couldn’t go to a homeless shelter or a motel as he didn’t have enough money for a room. He didn’t want to seek help at school either, knowing if his home issues had been undetected for so long that nobody would care now. He was the quiet kid who slipped through the cracks of the social system, and was too scared to advocate for himself.
To classmates, he was just that “weirdo”. The kid with dirty clothing, who smelt of stale sweat and damp clothing. It wasn’t that he didn’t try to keep clean, but only being able to shower after gym or if he could sneak into somewhere for quick stand-up wash in a sink using cheap gels. His blonde hair was dirty, and he hated how he felt. He wanted to get clean somewhere, clean his clothing. Just feel better in general, even if nobody else cared.
Thunder boomed and lightning cracked, and he flinched. He drew into himself more, stomach growling and pain running through his skinny frame. He rested his head on his knees and just started to cry. His clothing was drenched though, and the mud and dirt washed up on the ground by the rain clung to his bare feet and the bottom of his jeans. His shoes had been taken by another homeless guy who’d threatened him for them, and he felt his own safety was more important than his damned socks and shoes.