Grimoire Gaming

BHHS: Limitless

^{Timestamp: After the Game
Location: The Montoya Home
The Candy King and Prince, Ramón and Cael
@Aces Away and @Grimoire Gaming
Small Ft: Rosa Montoya}

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Once they’d finished their early dinner with the family and Mo had fixed up Stella’s makeup properly, the two best friends had split ways to depart in their separate cars, Mo needing his to bring Cael home after the game. He’d spent absolutely no time paying attention to the actual game and almost all of the time focused on his fellow Pixie, staring the bright boy down as if he could mentally communicate all he’d wanted to talk about with him since a paper appeared in his locker before the pep rally. He hadn’t talked to Stella about it, his lifelong bestie having enough on her own plate to hear him obsess over a new mystery. Besides, he was the Candy King and this was a matter of discerning hope from hoax, and he needed the help of his Prince for that before he risked putting himself out there talking to Stella or Minnie and the rest of the Candies about it. Now, with said Prince in his passenger seat as Ramón drove them back home, the smaller of the two turned down the music and asked what's been on his mind.

“Hey, how likely is it in this day and age that someone genuinely puts a note in your locker that, like, leaves you a riddle that amounts to ‘meet me at Beverly Gardens Park before the dance’? You know, and it’s not someone just fucking with you?” He asked casually, keeping his eyes on the road. “Also what was up with you tripping over your feet while cheering today? You never slip up like that.”

Cael was in the process of reaching for the volume knob at nearly the same time that Ramón did. Surprised, he pulled his hand back while his gaze darted to Mo’s face. “Wait… what?” Icy dread froze the wings of the butterflies previously fluttering in his stomach. He could feel them fall in time with the drop of his heart. “You… got one too?” Was it just some sick prank? To tease the twinks? Would someone do that to the Candies, of all people? They didn’t really make enemies, they helped people! Hell, even Cael’s exes were on good terms with him. He fished in his pocket for his own note, his palms suddenly felt sweaty.

“Too?” Ramón sighed in utter disappointment as he caught Cael pulling a paper out of his pocket in his periphery. Of course it was too good to be true, it was silly of him to even have entertained getting his hopes up. Painted nails digging into the stitching of the leather steering wheel, he glanced quickly to his best friend. “And what, dear Stix, do you think this means? Who is it? Couldn't be an ex, they all love you and I haven't had one since seventh grade.”

Rather than respond immediately, Cael sagged into the passenger seat like a deflated balloon. He was pouting, and he wasn’t too proud to hide it, especially not in front of Mo. Ramón was one of his comfort people, a twin flame and kindred spirit in this wild world of theirs. “Well, it wasn’t Jonah, I asked him already. Jem would literally never, plus he writes like a bear is chasing him. And it’s not Minnie’s writing either, my first thought was that it could be her pranking me to get back for the dare, but nah… she wouldn’t do that, it’s too mean.”

Cael sighed as he watched the houses whiz by through his window. “Was it really that noticeable? At the game?” He peered over at King Ring Pop for confirmation. One of his fellow cheerleaders, Troy, had teasingly mentioned something between routines as well, so he must have been really messy. “I was off because I was too busy thinking about this!” He scoffed, letting the note crinkle beneath his frustrated fingers.

“This, and how I wanted to talk to you about it, and how there was suddenly a themed party to plan for, and how I had just committed a crime, it’s A LOT. You know?” Cael ranted in exasperation.

Mo raised an eyebrow from the driver's seat as the cheerleader ranted beside him, glad at least that he wasn't alone in his upset mood. “Don’t be silly, I’m sure I have something in my closet for you that would work for the theme. And it was only noticeable because I was watching you, Stix. You recovered well enough each time, at least I thought,” And Jonah wouldn't dare mess with Mo and send him on some mystery hunt lest the mastermind be sent into his domain with clothes designed to fall apart at the seams. Not that Cael needed to know that part, Mo had a secret brand he made the clothes of The House under, simply labeled as such, for various reasons. Some of his best work and Mo Drama Designs would never get the recognition for it. The petite Pixie glanced down at Cael’s thin fingers grasping the paper tight, only to double take at the angle and roundness of the letters. “That…isn't the same handwriting as mine,” Mo revealed, intrigue filtering past the irritation at the forefront of his mind as he turned onto his street. “Did this person really think changing their handwriting would keep us from figuring it out the second we talked to each other? How positively dul- wait, crime? What crime? Do I have to hide a body?”

“A body? …what? Oh, fuck! Damn it! That was supposed to be a surprise!” Despite all of the nerves, stress, and hopeful delusions that were dashed into despair, Cael laughed. He was still running on a few hours of sleep and he always got giggly right before he crashed. “No, I—” He was interrupted by his own chuckling. “I bought drugs. It was my first time, and they’re called Candy too! But pleeease DON’T tell Minnie! They’re a surprise to celebrate such a successful execution of a dare. I’m so proud of her, truly.”

Cael was quick to hop out of the car as soon as Mo pulled into his spot. Attempting to reinvigorate his energy stores, he grabbed his bag from the back and skipped over to the other boy’s side with a cheeky grin. Leaning up against Mo as they walked to the front door, he gazed at his Candy King with mismatched blue and green eyes that shined with affection. “Would you reeaally hide a body for me?”

“Of course I would, what the hell do you take me for?” Mo responded without missing a beat, supporting the lanky boy's sudden weight on him with practiced ease and ignoring the warm comfort it spread throughout him much the same. Their back and forth, as always, was a chaotic and tangled mess that likely only their fellow pixie Minnie could follow easily. Speaking of… “I won’t tell her, and I’m proud of her too, don’t tell her I said that. And thanks for the heads up, as I assume I'll be looking after you two.”

“Orrr, you could join us, Dad,” Cael rolled his eyes teasingly. “Although I do like when you take care of me, hmm...”

Smiling at Cael’s comment as they entered the front door of the Montoya household, Mo ducked his head to the side to avoid the decorative pillow flying towards his face at breakneck speeds. The muffled thump from behind him told him that even after all these years entering through the front door, Cael still forgot to expect the unexpected from the rest of the family. The smallest Montoya turned to his older sister with an irritated expression that was mirrored back to him flawlessly. “Rio already got your revenge, don't get greedy.”

“Delete the photos I know you took and maybe I'll entertain that,” Rosa replied, hands on her hips as she stood in her perfectly pressed power suit. She must have been gone earlier with his father for a strategy meeting if she was still in that at almost eleven at night.

“Not a chance,” the baby of the family scoffed, grabbing Cael by the hand and slowly leading him around his sister like they were trying to pass a dangerous animal. “What a literal case of ‘you snooze you lose,’ right?”

“You better hope that Cael helps you sleep with one eye open tonight, Mónie, I swear to god,” the frustrated woman threatened through gritted teeth before turning to the red haired guest, her entire face morphing into a warmer and more inviting tone when she addressed him. “Hey kiddo, sorry about the pillow. Also try not to take it personally if I kill my little brother for his constant disrespect.”

Recovering from the sudden assault by pillow, Cael almost reflexively threw it back at Rosa. He was used to playing such childish games with Philomena. Instead, he tossed it back towards the sofa from whence it came. “What? Why?” Cael asked the eldest sister. “What’d he do?” Despite how much he enjoyed the feeling of his hand in Ramón’s, Cael pulled it back and crossed his arms over his chest with a brow raised in accusation. “What did you do, Ring Pop?”

“Don't give me that stance less than a minute after calling me dad, Stix,” Mo bitched at his meddling best friend right before putting on an expression of faux innocence, ignoring the annoyance at the loss of contact from one of the only people he liked it from. Cael, while a much newer addition than Stella, was equally as integrated into the Montoya family. Unlike Stella, he enjoyed teasing Mo by playing sides and backing up his siblings, especially if he could tell it was because Mo was being a little shit. A wide eyed, guileless gaze met mismatched green and blue when the smaller brat in the room spoke up. “I was being a good brother.”

“He was being a little shit,” Rosa interjected, reaching again for the same pillow Cael had tossed back while Ramón jumped behind the other pixie to use him as a human shield. “I said fifteen minutes.”

“Excuuuse you, I am not a shield. Take your lumps, you bottom.” Cael teased, attempting to side step, but Mo just followed along and stayed behind him.

“You love this bottom so you better protect him,” Mo mumbled as he continued to hide behind Cael’s form before calling back at his sister. “And I said you haven't slept for four days and I wasn't going to wake you up, not my fault you didn't set an alarm.”

“And the photos?”

“How do you even know I took any?”

“You always take photos.”

“Wow, and you still passed out with me in the room?” the youngest Montoya shook his head in disappointment from behind their guest's back. “So much poor planning on your part. Isn't mitigating risks just like this, like, a whole part of your job?”

Rosa practically roared in indignation and reared her arm all the way back with the pillow once more in her grasp. “Cael, sweetheart, duck or die with him,” and then she launched the pillow before following after it with her own body, intent to grab hold of her brother as soon as his best friend moved.

Cael didn’t immediately move, instead he reveled for a moment in the chaos that he helped foster, even if it meant taking another pillow to the chest. The Montoya siblings were an amusing distraction if nothing else, plus he liked the way Ramón got feisty when his feathers were ruffled. It was kind of hot. “Hold on, hold your fire,” he called out, letting the pillow drop with arms his raised in surrender. “I can practically feel this temporary hair dye dripping down the back of my neck, and if you get it on the pillows your mom will kill us all. Sooo… I’ma just head upstairs and shower real quick before my fitting while you two sort this out.”

The Candy Prince beamed at Mo with cherubic innocence before flicking his gaze to Rosa. He glided over to her with his dancer’s grace before planting a quick kiss on her cheek. “Please don’t hurt him, he’s too pretty, plus I need his help with stuff tonight.” After that, he scampered off upstairs with his overnight bag in tow, leaving Ramón defenseless against his rampaging older sister.

“Hurt is relative,” Rosa replied under her breath at the same time Ramón yelled, “Traitor!” at Cael’s retreating form- despite the fact that the temporary redhead had taken two pillows for him- leaving him open for his sister to pounce on him and send them both to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs until she got the upper hand. Mo was in a headlock in an instant, his legs flailing just as they had earlier with Rio but this time thud thud thudding against the hardwood floor from where the momentum had taken them off the living room rug.

“See, this doesn’t hurt? It just sucks for little brats with shit eating grins.”

“Do you see me grinning?” Mo protested from where his sister had his head pulled back a bit, his voice straining from the angle. Trying to wiggle out only made her tighten her headlock on him and he slammed an irritated fist against the floor. “Being the same height doesn’t mean you aren’t heavy, Ro, get off!”

“Delete the photos.”

“Delete the demands, I got those fair and square!”

“I’ll delete your fucking life, you little turd-”

“What is happening out there?!” Came a groggy yell from the home office, alerting both siblings to the fact that they awoke their father from where he’d passed out at his desk as per usual.

“Nothing, papá!” The siblings called at once, Rosa’s arms immediately leaving her baby brother’s neck and back of head and the older girl rolling off of her brother after a moment of dead weight, much like their older brother had done to him previously. The two siblings glared at each other from their spots on the floor for another long moment, Mo breathing a little heavier and Rosa’s lips twisted into a demanding frown. When the silence stretched a bit too long with Mo remaining stubborn, Rosa sighed and got up, thwacking Mo on the back of the head in reprimand.

“Hey!” His hands didn’t even have a chance to fly to the abused spot before she pushed his head down and gave the area a light kiss, making the youngest release a disgusted groan as he realized she purposefully got her lipstick all over the strands her kiss touched. “Well, I was going to wait to take a shower.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t already thinking about joining him, tarado _(Moron),” Rosa scoffed against Ramón’s sudden indignant spluttering. The latino teen was suddenly quite red in the face at his sister’s casual callout, and she dragged him up by the collar of his jacket despite his protests and shoved him towards the stairs. “Seriously though, go have fun with your little bottom buddy, because if those pictures see the light of day, it’ll be the last time you experience anything other than death.”

“So scared of the woman who was drooling on that pillow earlier. You know it’s decorative, ri- careful!” He yelled as said pillow made its way toward his face for the third time, and this time he had to catch it instead of sidestepping lest it hit the fragile decorations adorning the ornate stand that sat against the wall of their quarter landing. “You’ll get both of us experiencing death sooner than expected if you break mamá’s figurines!”

The fearful glint in Rosa’s eyes told Mo she was already imagining the alternate universe where the glass and ceramic figurines had shattered, and he took a bit of pleasure at the dread he was sure she was experiencing. “You’re right, sorry,” She admitted, rolling her eyes at his smug grin. “You’ve earned your freedom this time, Mónie, but don’t get cocky.”

“Be more careful with your warning, I could have made plenty of jokes from that alone if I so wanted,” Mo rolled his eyes right back, another perfect mirror of motion with his sister, before tossing the pillow down to her and waving her off while heading up the second half of the stairs. “I’ll delete the pictures if you finally let me teach you how to dress. Now, I have a shower to take.” With that, he disappeared around the corner, as always never seeing the proud smirk on his sister’s face. As always, her baby brother refused to be a pushover, just as she’d helped raise him.

Meanwhile, in the upstairs bathroom, Cael had made good on his word of wanting to take a quick shower. He was already stripped down bare and in the process of rinsing the temporary dye out of his hair. Without even adding shampoo yet, the warm water ran down his shoulders in endless rivers of red. Scrub and scrub as he might, the pigmented water refused to fade to clear. Red droplets splattered the walls like a crime scene and the pink rinsate gathered in a pool around his feet. Cael pulled his hands away to reveal them stained from fingertips to palms.

“Fuck,” Cael muttered to himself, hoping that the dye wouldn’t stain the tub just as badly. Although the Montoya’s would be able to replace it without much thought, Cael’s shame would know no end if it came to that. He could already imagine the scolding his mother would give him if he caused such a mess at his own home, let alone someone else’s. “Christ, it looks like I’ve killed something...”

The sound of the bathroom door closing softly startled Cael out of his musings. He perked up as a turbulent fluttering stirred in his stomach for the umpteenth time this day. “Mo?” Cael called out from within the shower and there was no mistaking the tinge of hope coloring the inquiry. Doing his best to rinse his face clear first, the Candy boy peeked from behind the curtain.

“So… you’re not mad at me?” Cael asked with a faux pout and pleading eyes. This wouldn’t be the first time Ramón joined him in the shower, but the prospect was no less enticing. Cael’s Candilicious brain was already spinning with possibilities and scenarios. He was practically giddy, make no mistake about it. So when Ring Pop sassily pointed to the red lipstick print in his hair, Cael grinned wide enough that his own sharp dimple adorned the corner of his crooked smirk.

“I see you two managed to kiss and make up. Come on,” he opened the shower curtain a little wider in invitation. “Beware, it looks like I've committed a murder in here. Maybe we do need to hide a body…”

“You know, you’re quite lucky you’re cute or that smartass mouth might get you in more trouble,” Mo finally responded verbally to him, clothes already off and in the process of getting hung on the door hook so he could take care of them later. He stepped up and past the opening Cael had made in the curtain after setting his glasses on the sink, doing his best not to run his hand through his hair and smear the lipstick more before he could rinse it out. Mo loved makeup and color, glitter and glamor, but that all ended when it came to his hair and Rosa knew that. While he did love to dye it quite often, with it currently being a soft cotton candy pink, the particular boy did not like anything else in his hair if it could get in the way of his concentration or risk messing up his designs. He would adorn his whole body with glitter, dress up the whole nine yards, but he would not put the shiny material in his hair so it could fall like dandruff all day over his work. He also didn’t use spray-in color for much the same reason, as running his hands through his hair was a bad habit of his. He’d already had a red tint to his fingers all day from running his fingers through Cael’s hair earlier in Belmonte’s class, but that was the price of loving his pixie prince.

Speaking of spray-in color… “You’re so lucky you used my shower, mamá would kill us if she saw this much stain in the family bathroom,” Not that Cael has ever used anything other than his shower when he was over. He took in the red to pink splatters across the white tile and acrylic and didn’t even bat an eye at the pigmented massacre that now defined his shower. This was not the first time these surfaces had been splash-dyed another color and it would not be the last, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get to tease his pixie about it. Ramón slid around Cael so that he as the shorter was in front of the stream and ducked his head under the water to scrub viciously at the spot Rosa had left in his hair, continuing until his locks were thoroughly soaked in water before turning his gaze to his equally soaked companion. The water running races down Cael’s pale skin was now a light pink, staining streaks down his body like watercolor strokes, and Mo didn’t stop his gaze dropping from there, if only to make the other boy squirm a little. It really was a shame that neither of them were tops, because this boy would likely have been it for him from day one otherwise. Smirking at the other, not letting him in on his thoughts, he followed the trails back up and to Cael’s face and higher, only to see that his hair was still absolutely loaded with product despite the obvious multiple rinses.

Cael didn’t squirm or balk at Ramón’s obvious ogling. Instead, he straightened his posture and made sure his slender abdomen was flexed tight and smooth, his right arm bent upright so that his fingers delicately brushed his collarbone. Presentation was everything, even in nothing but one’s skin. The Candy boys were of one mind in that, hungry for the moment when all of their hard work succeeded in capturing another’s rapt attention. Ramón’s gaze didn’t make Cael squirm, no… it made him want to pounce.

Humming happily at Cael’s response, not even upset that his reaction was the opposite of his intention, the smaller boy reached past the taller and took a healthy pump of his shampoo from the bottle on the wall, resigning himself to having fingers stained just like Cael’s as he wordlessly stretched his arms out to reach and dropped the product onto Cael’s color-bleeding mop of hair. As he began to lather it into the other’s short mane, he couldn’t help but give his two cents as always. “Stix, sweetie, no one, not even the guinness world record holder for longest hair, ever, ever, needs this much fucking spray-in. I’m surprised you didn’t sweat this into your uniform while cheering.”

“Ugh, don’t make fun of me, just helppp,” Cael drawled out in a whiny tone. The dramatics weren’t necessary, of course, as Ramón had already begun scrubbing shampoo into his locks. Just like this morning, Cael instinctively tilted his head back to give the other boy complete and easy access to work his magic. Unlike this morning, Cael did not conceal the lecherous moan those talented fingers elicited, the sound vibrating in his throat like a purring wildcat. Letting the feeling wash over him, he felt all of the stresses of the day melt down the drain. Nothing else mattered, no notes, no meddling, no overpacked schedules… nothing but the two of them caught in this intimate moment, together. Cael might be exhausted, but not so much that he couldn’t turn to face his King with a look that foretold this shower would remain steamy long after the water ran cold.

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Now both freshly cleaned and hair dried with Mo’s soft robes hugging their bodies, the two boys were back in Mo's design room with Beverly Hills High’s very own Edna Mode going to the corner opposite the one he had earlier for Stella’s dress. Sitting there on a dress form was Cael’s homecoming outfit, almost subtle in the corner until the light hit it just right. He rolled it out for his Prince and presented it with a grin just as proud as it was with Stella’s reveal. Mo did not have worries when it came to showing his friends what he made for them, completely self assured in his skill and knowledge on what would make them gasp or swoon, but that didn’t mean he didn’t also crave feedback and praise. He was an artist after all.

The lightweight collared dress shirt started off as a pale gray at the shoulders before slowly saturating to black as it reached the waist. The arms billowed gently in the soft breeze created by the ceiling fan, exposing the peasant sleeve design as well as the fabric’s lightness and breathability. It had a plunging neckline that was only held closed with three white buttons beginning just below the abdomen, the dots in stark contrast with their dark gray-to-black background, while the rest of the fabric disappeared behind a subtle cumberbund. The sash itself was mostly covered by the band of the black pleated skirt that sat over the almost sheer dress pants, the skirt designed to flow out and catch the air as Cael spun. Before his pixie had a chance to comment on it, Mo held a finger up and strolled over the switch on the secondary lights, almost having to squint under them himself as they did their best to mimic the natural light of the sun.

This exposed the best part of the design, in Mo’s humble opinion. Threaded throughout the dark fabrics like strings of liquid light was almost a whole spool of metallic rainbow strands, meaning that once it was hit by proper lighting the whole outfit practically shone and sparkled. He knew Cael preferred his pops of color, or really, mostly color, but he was also sure that this design was perfect for his fellow attention seeker. It was much more likely that people would double take at the lack of color and then their eyes would catch the shimmering secret than it was that they would be surprised at a full blown rainbow outfit. Waving proudly at the work of art, Mo dropped onto the couch next to Cael and nudged him towards it.

“Threading all that properly took days, I’ll have you know. I expect proper appreciative compensation.”

“And here I thought I already compensated you plenty,” Cael smirked in reply with a naughty glint in his eye. Jokes aside, he turned his attention to the shimmering outfit hung upon a dress form set to his own measurements. He was pretty sure that Mo kept a set of mannequins for both Stella and his Prince separate from the others, just for convenience in how much he worked on stuff for the pair alone. Even with being as integrated into the Montoya family as Cael had become, the casual indulgence in wealth and luxury was still foreign to him.

The sleepy pastel pixie approached the garment slowly, staying uncharacteristically silent as he did so. His fingers brushed along the soft fabric almost reverently, as if it were precious Himalayan cashmere that might get damaged if he was too rough. It wasn’t that he thought it was too rich for him, though he was sure that Ramón spared no expense on material costs, it was that it was valuable in ways that had no price tag.

Mo said he had spent days on the threading alone, and who knows how many more on the sketches, sourcing of fabric, making patterns, and hours spent bent over a whirring sewing machine — lost in his own little world, slaving over a passion project meant just for him. Cael’s heart swelled with emotion, he could feel his eyes getting misty. It would be stupid to cry, but he was so overtired and love drunk with the taste of Ramón still on his tongue.

Cael might still find all of the opulence a foreign concept, but he was no stranger to the hard work and dedication required to pursue perfection. He saw Mo’s commitment to his craft similarly to how he himself approached dancing. He too labored for hours, until his feet bled and his muscles ached in protest, all in the hopes of creating something beautiful. Even if only for a moment.

“It’s gorgeous, Pop. Truly, you outdid yourself…” Cael intoned fondly, his voice warbling a bit. His fingers caught the end of the pleated dress-like part of the ensemble. “Oh my god, it has a skirt! Oh, I love it so much! It’ll be so pretty when I twirl around the dance floor!”

It was like the weighted blanket of exhaustion had been lifted from Cael’s soul. He perked up, eyes sparkling with delight, and his mouth running as fast as the thoughts poured in. “Can I put it on? Like now? Is it all one piece? Probably not. Will I need help? Come help me!”

Mo was practically glowing at Cael’s praise, a red tint rising from his neck to his cheeks at the more than positive response of his Prince. The skirt had been just as much for Mo’s benefit as it had been for Cael’s, one of the Candy King’s favorite pastimes being watching the other dance and twirl and flow. It was why much of his designs for Cael used lightweight fabrics that swirled and cascaded around him like wild waves as the pixie moved. Cael had a grace and gift for dancing that he worked hard to hone that Ramón could never even hope to achieve with his two left feet. He admired that about the taller twink. He admired much about him. Following the other boy and standing up, Mo walked over and began to carefully remove the outfit from Cael’s custom dress form.

“While I do enjoy seeing you lounging around in just a robe, I did keep you in it to make getting the outfit on quicker,” Mo answered, getting the shirt off first and motioning for Cael to remove the robe from his shoulders and arms so he could begin putting it together on the model it was made for. Once he’d gotten behind the other and gotten his arm’s through the sleeves, Mo ran nimble fingers all the way out to Cael’s shoulders from his spine to make sure the fabric laid properly before circling back to the front to do up the bottom two of the three buttons before lightly tugging the fabric into place. Next he got the pants and handed them to Cael for him to get into while Mo retrieved the cumberbund. “Tuck the shirt in loosely, then it’s just this and the skirt.”

While Ramón turned around, Cael looked at himself in the mirror and noticed the dark circles forming under his eyes. His hair, now freshly clean and dry, was once again the pastel purple hue it had been for the past month or so — except it was now tinted a bit pink from the so-called ‘temporary’ red dye. In his own eyes, Cael looked as tired as he felt, and was almost embarrassed that Mo was not only seeing him in such a state, but had kissed him and thensome. Pushing the shame aside, Cael busied himself with trying to fasten the third button of the very low cut shirt that Ramón must’ve missed. His actions were cut short by Mo slapping his hands away from the button, scolding him to stop and that it was meant to be unbuttoned. “Oh my god, do you want everyone to think I’m a whore?”

“I want you to leave my artwork as it was envisioned, but would it be so bad if I did?” The designer snarked. Once the other had complied, Mo wrapped the cumberbund around his waist, pleats facing upwards of course, and then knelt down to help the dancer step into the skirt after grabbing it from the form. Once the two buttons had been done at the side of Cael’s hip, securing the skirt in place, Mo stepped back and smiled large and wide, dimples on full display. Cael looked absolutely elven in the most ethereal sense, and the glints from the metallic rainbow threading were as perfect as he’d envisioned. Looking one of his favorite models up and down, Mo demanded with barely constrained excitement, “Well don’t just stand there like the dress form, Stixie, let’s see that twirl!”

Cael was standing surprisingly stock still, having been stunned by Ramón’s admiration. It was always heartstopping to see his Candy King smile wide enough that his dimples showed. The fact that Mo was looking at him like that when his exhaustion made him look like a junkie fiending for his next fix was enough to make Cael look away with flushed cheeks. Mo was probably just admiring seeing his work on a warm body, it was utterly stunning, after all.

“Of course, as you wish…” Cael replied, looking around Ramón's work and dressing room to assess the space. Something so beautiful deserved something equally as special in return. Stepping off of the pedestal in front of the full body mirror, Cael began to push some of the furniture aside to make a big open space in front of the couch Mo had previously been lounging upon. Cael fetched the other boy by the wrists and guided him to stand in front of the couch.

“Wait right here. Don’t move,” he instructed before flitting off into the attached bedroom. Cael came back with his cell phone in hand, tapping the screen as he walked. He pulled up a song on Spotify, one that he had been choreographing a dance routine to for his next ballet recital. No one outside of the studio had gotten a sneak peek of Cael’s hard work, but Ramón was about to. Cael passed the phone to his fellow pixie. “Press play when I tell you to, ‘kay?”

Cael waited for a nod in confirmation before closing his eyes and pretending to settle himself. He adjusted his feet to third position and took a deep breath in as he reached his right arm forward, placing his palm against the bare skin of Ramón’s chest, which was left exposed by the robe he still wore. Cael’s eyes opened to reveal a gaze that was full of mischief rather than keen focus, just before he gently pushed the other boy back into the couch with a giggle.

For real this time, the pastel pixie gracefully made his way to the center of the space he’d cleared and began to take his starting position. Cael closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths, letting his mind wash clean of any thoughts besides this silent space, his choreography, his audience of one, his love, his passion, and the music soon to fill this place. To fill his soul. “Play.”
The routine started in fourth position, with Cael’s left hand extended above his head. His fingers were fanned out delicately with his index finger pointed heavensward, perfectly in line with the rest of his body, all the way down to his heels. A ballet dancer’s line was foundational — the core source of all of the beauty and grace in their movements. As the song’s introductory notes pulsed from the phone’s speakers, Cael’s toes swept in alternating circles as he covered wide stretches of the space he’d cleared. Without his pointe shoes on, he felt the cool marble tiles beneath his bare, scarred and blistered feet. Everly was right earlier that day, Cael’s feet were gnarly. The first time he lost a big toenail, he had nearly thrown up and quit dancing on the spot.

Thank god he didn’t quit, this was worth it.

As the melody began to swell, Cael releve’d on the balls of his feet and twirled. The lyrics of the song began to pour in and Cael became a conduit. His torso twisted and turned in time with the music, his body fluidly speaking a language all its own. As he pirouetted, the lights above caught the threading of his waist skirt, shimmering like an oil slicked river of black diamonds. The notes of the song flicked from the tips of his fingers and toes like drops of watercolor, painting the room with love and life. Like some kind of heaven.

When the pounding baseline picked up, Cael’s choreography shifted to match the energy. He covered large swaths of space, leaping and spinning with liquid limbs. He was a hurricane of emotion and song, splashing into each corner of the room until it was full of his artwork. It was smaller than the stage Cael was used to practicing on, so he had to pull back early and modify some of the motions due to his lack of appropriate footwear, not that Ramón would notice his freestyling. Cael’s breath became heavy before the song’s midway point. He was too tired to perform it fully, nor did he want to give away all of the routine. That’s not to say he didn’t still have a surprise in store… Instead, he danced his way towards Mo’s place on the couch. He extended a hand to the boy and pulled him up into a quick twirl. Cael spun Mo around a few times before drawing him into a tight embrace.

“It’s perfect. I love it. Te amo.” Cael murmured as he pressed a kiss into the hollow of Ramón’s collarbone, revealed by the way his robe now sagged down passed his shoulder from spinning around. Standing them both up straight, Cael sighed sleepily. “Now take it off before I get all sweaty. Then it's you, me, bed, snuggles, sleep. Please.”

Cael’s routine, like much of what he did, was phenomenal and breathtaking, as well as enrapturing. Mo watched silently and intently, sparing only the briefest moments to make sure there was nothing malfunctioning with the outfit before his eyes would be more focused on the fluid grace and beauty of the dancer wearing it. This was definitely a new routine, so he gave it every ounce of respect it deserved and barely blinked throughout the sneak peek the pastel boy was gracing him with. When the lavender-turned-heliotrope haired boy pulled him from the couch and twirled him, he let out an unabashed giggle and followed willingly, never feeling his two left feet less than when Cael led him. It turned into a genuine laugh by the second spin that eventually petered off as he was pulled into the paler boy’s chest. When Cael spoke and kissed his skin, the soft gasp he released had only a small amount to do with the contact and almost everything to do with Cael speaking to him in his other first language.

Sure, of course they’d said I love you to each other before, of course he’d heard Cael speak spanish, hell he’d helped teach him most of it. Still, this was the first time he’d ever said te amo and something about hearing those words fall from his lips just before he sealed them to his suddenly overheated skin was as showstopping as the boy himself was. It felt like more and Mo couldn’t figure out why. Blush sitting on his cheeks like the sun setting on the horizon, Mo looked into Cael’s tired eyes and gave him one more wide smile.

“Te amo también, Cael Lee, _{(I love you too)},” He doubted Cael could yet pick up the difference in meanings depending on the wording, but the response Mo had given back was reserved for a higher level of intensity than te quiero también would have been. Clearing his throat and breaking eye contact, Mo reached out and began to help Cael out of the outfit and return it to its dress form, no longer making eye contact as he perseverated over something that likely didn’t actually matter to the other. Once Cael had been returned to his own robe, Mo grabbed his hand and pulled him from his office into his bedroom where his queen size awaited them both. Truly, with all the outfits Mo had been working on lately, he was just as exhausted as his pixie Prince and more than ready to turn in for the night.

He pushed the tired cheerleader gently down onto the mattress and watched him instantly crawl up to his spot and pillow with an adoring gaze. He did his best not to collapse onto the bed immediately and instead followed Cael’s lead and crawled up to his spot from the end of the bed, tossing the covers back and making sure the other boy lifted his body enough that he could get the sheets out from under him and covering his weary body as well. Once they were both snugly beneath the soft weight, Ramón put his arm out and dropped it around his tactiley obsessive twink as Cael’s head fell against his chest, his soft hair tickling the skin it touched. He dropped a kiss to the top of Cael’s head and began to run deft fingers through the pastel strands before saying his last piece.

“Dre’s coming to get his outfit in the morning, but after that we are figuring out this note shit, Stixie,” He frowned at the ceiling in the safety of the dark. While he was rather irritated if he was being messed with, he would be absolutely vindictive and volatile if someone was really messing with his soft hearted lover in the same way. The two thespians handled things like this very differently. “No dejaré que nadie te lastime _{(I won’t let anyone hurt you)}.”

BHHS: Limitless

_{Timestamp: During the Pep Rally
Location: The Parking Lot
Main Characters: Cael @Grimoire Gaming & Everly @Fabricant451
Aesthetics: Credit to @LovelyComplex}

BHHS spirit week ended in a whirlwind of black and red. By the end of the school day, Cael’s mind was a vortex of thoughts, mostly positive, but eternally chaotic. He had to touch up his temporary spray-on red hair dye, which would no doubt just get sweat off while cheering for the game later. Minnie had not only taken his dare this morning in stride, she had surprised both himself and damn near the entire cafeteria with her danceposal — was it called a danceposal when you asked someone to a dance or was that only for prom? Cael wasn’t sure. Speaking of the dance, there was apparently going to be a party to follow! Well, that wasn’t too shocking, there was always a weekend party to attend in Beverly Hills, but this one was unique for its location — the Green Family’s Vineyard, hosted by none-other-than Stella’s disappointing boyfriend, Ethan Green. While that might seem dramatic, Ethan had ignored texts and stood Stella up this morning, which was a criminal offense against a Candy’s bestie. But a party should be fun, and Cael was looking to celebrate with—

Cael’s train of thought derailed when he opened his locker and a note tumbled down from the top shelf. It had been precariously placed, as if it had been shoved through the slats on the top of the door. Cael looked around the halls, curious to see if anyone was nearby that might’ve left it, but no one out of the ordinary stood out. Kneeling down, he picked up both the note and the duffel bag containing his cheer uniform from the bottom of the locker. He slung the bag’s strap over his shoulder and began unfolding the piece of paper.

The prince of Candyland’s heart thrummed in his chest as he read the contents. It was a dare, written in a somewhat feminine script, but it wasn’t Minnie’s, he would have recognized that. The handwriting was half cursive and as straight and neat as a font. Cael’s mismatched eyes scanned the words once, twice, thrice. It wasn’t just a dare, but an invitation to show up at Beverly Gardens Park dressed up before the dance tomorrow evening, and it was signed by a ‘Secret Admirer’. Cael bit his lip in excitement, bouncing up onto his toes in a way that would be uncomfortable for most, but not for someone who had spent years dancing en pointe.

Who could this secret admirer be? The handwriting seemed familiar, but not enough to identify who it was based on writing alone. Cael scanned the hallway again, looking for anyone that might be… well, secretly admiring him. No luck, the halls were mostly empty now, as students filed out to attend the pep rally — or go home, if they were boring. The Candy made one more attempt at playing Sherlock Holmes, and brought the note up to his nose to have a good, long sniff. It mostly smelled like paper but there was a lingering sweetness…. Fruity, like cherries…. Or maybe it was vanilla. The scent was vaguely familiar, but much like the handwriting, the identity eluded him. He needed to show Ramón as soon as possible or he would surely perish. Suddenly, the Homecoming Game couldn’t end soon enough.

Pocketing the precious piece of paper, Cael closed his locker and tried to collect his thoughts. He had planned to do something before the pep rally. What was it again? Oh, right! Parking lot! Party favors in the parking lot! He wanted to celebrate Minnie having a date — hell, maybe even himself having a date now — by trying something new together. Striding towards the exit to the student parking lot, Cael’s stomach did somersaults. How do you even buy drugs, anyway?

Cael went over a variety of scenarios and dialogue options as he walked. His panic rose with every step. He was out of time to prepare now, standing at the edge of the area where Everly Rigby and the school’s other skaters practiced their tricks. The brunette appeared to be taking a drink break and Cael approached, his grip on his duffle bag strap turning white-knuckled. “Hey…” he opened lamely, “Uh, how’s it going?” he winced, the blush he had on his cheeks since reading the note burned brighter. So much for practicing his lines…

Despite technically being ‘at school’, Everly’s parents were likely getting another message from the office about how she had unexcused absences today but at this point those messages were as common as telemarketers or campaign ads during election seasons. Everly, despite her affiliation with the PLC, was possibly the least responsible senior at BHHS. It was a coin flip on whether or not she would show up to class and the coin only ever seemed to land on ‘go to class’ on days where she was certain there was a test. School just bored her; human beings weren’t meant to stay in a single building for eight hours a day five days a week. Hell, at least prisoners got time in the yard to play basketball, lift weights, and bring back racial segregation; here at BHHS, the only difference between it and prison was segregation was based on class, not race. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

Her thoughts on school aside, no one could deny that she was part of the blood that kept BHHS flowing. She and the PLC as a whole provided a valuable service morning, noon, and after school - though after school they tended to take business off school property. Even Naomi, who typically made moves to oust the shadier and seedier aspects of student life that would reflect badly on the school as a whole, seemed to suffer the PLC in silence as if getting rid of them would be an act of social suicide. Everly couldn’t answer why she hung out at school if she didn’t go to class anyway. There was a little skate park, that was a reason, but she could’ve easily posted up at a larger one or gone to the movies or literally anywhere else, yet there she was, as she was every weekday, hanging out in the parking lot, skating, busting ass, selling grass. Some of the people were cool, she had friends here, but in a couple months those friends would move on and where would she be?

Probably still hanging out in the parking lot.

Skating the day away helped her ignore that fear, but the shadow cast by the high school constantly loomed overhead. But Everly, as always, remained unbothered - on the surface, anyway - as she cracked open a bottle of cranberry juice - good for vitamin C, according to the packaging anyway and those things never lied. Mid-drink, her board under the bench she was sitting on, Everly looked up at the seemingly flustered customer. She’d seen the type before, the person that constantly looked over their shoulder when all they wanted was some weed, like the PLC was running a sting for something illegal or whatever. “Well, if it ain’t the Candy Man.” Everly knew about the Candies and while Everly wouldn’t exactly call Cael a friend - simply from lack of hanging out together - she had no issues with him. In her books, he was cool. She once considered using their services for her Stella situation but decided against it; she wanted her eventual confession and inevitable shutdown to be organic. Aw natural. Or whatever. “Not, like, the horror movie dude with the bees and the hook. Like..the song from that old ass movie with the weird dude and the candy factory.” Everly had never met a person she couldn’t have an incredibly awkward interaction with. It was truly a gift. “You ever see it? Candyman can cuz he mixes it with love, makes the world taste good, or whatever.” There was an attempt to sing the lyrics, but Everly’s voice trended more towards an almost contralto Seth Rogen than it did a crooning Aubrey Woods.

“What’s up, dude? You want some?” Everly offered Cael a drink from her cranberry juice, pointing the open bottle in his direction. “I don’t backwash, I think.”

Cael was glad for the humorous musical distraction, quietly chuckling as politely as he could at her attempt to sing the lyrics. He smiled with a grin that was all cheeks as he hummed the familiar melody and bobbed his head along with her. Okay, he could do this, it wasn’t so scary. It helped that Everly was a peer rather than some dude in a sketchy alleyway, and she was funny too! Cael felt both his grip and his nerves relax as he let his bag down on the bench. He then crossed one arm over his chest while his other hand clutched at imaginary pearls in faux offense. “Do you really take me for the type to swap spit upon first introductions?”

“Well… I suppose you’re not entirely wrong there,” Cael shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m good though, thanks.” He cleared his throat gently and took on a more confident posture this time around. He could do this. “Funny that you mention the Candyman, because I’ve heard word around the halls that you are one of sorts yourself — not a man of course — hell, I don’t even consider myself a man.” He subconsciously reached to rub his chin and check for any unwanted stubble. “I want to be a pretty boy for as long as possible. If I made even a fraction of money that some of our classmates were simply born into, I’d already have gotten laser hair removal. ANYWAY, that’s oversharing, sorry, I do that. ADHD plus absolutely no filter from thought to mouth equals shameless chaos in pixie form. But yes… I’m Cael, Prince of Candyland, coming to peruse the shelves of your candy shop. I’m looking for something to bring as a party favor for my friends and I at the Green gathering tomorrow. Are you going?”

Everly, not innately aware that the question about swapping spit was likely rhetorical, shrugged her shoulders in response. It probably wouldn’t go over too well if she mentioned how most of her experience with swapping spit was after first introductions with girls at parties or hang outs and most of the time she didn’t even remember their name after they parted lips. The last thing she wanted Cael - or anyone - to think was that she was some kind of drug dealing slut. She loved sluts, she just didn’t consider herself one. Her mind was starting to wander, which it did when she was half focusing on what someone was telling her. It wasn’t as if she was disinterested in what Cael was saying, she could relate to the oversharing, lack of a filter thing but in her case she was pretty sure it wasn’t anything to do with ADHD and everything to do with a lack of shame. Or maybe she also had ADHD. She’d have to ask a doctor sometime. Maybe the next time she was in the hospital for fucking up her leg or arm or something.

“Green gathering? Tomorrow? Like…during Homecoming?” Everly had not heard word one about a gathering thrown by the Greens, but then she hadn’t seen the morning announcements or served any Green bloods today. The various members of the PLC had a knack for finding out when and where parties of note were, be it from hearing about it from people they dealt to or, Everly assumed, Addie sleeping with someone who was going and passing the knowledge around before leaving through a window like Spider-Man. “First I’m hearin’ of it. I don’t think I was invited.” That had never stopped Everly from showing up before. It likely wouldn’t stop her now.

“Anyway, if you’re askin’ for party favors I assume you’re not in the market for weed.” Hanging from the back of the bench was Everly’s bag, in which there was the closest thing to a menu she had. And by menu, of course, it was more like a bunch of baggies and prescription bottles. It was this bag that Everly grabbed and unzipped wide enough for Cael to also get a glimpse inside. Lookin’ was free. Touchin’ was not. “So what are we talkin’? Stims? Psychs? Benzos? It’s not, like, offensive if I say poppers, is it? Probably is. Better not. Gotta say, anythin’ that goes up the nose or in a needle I’m not your girl. Ain’t no one out here trying to turn rich kids into coke fiends or heroin whores. The 80s were lame enough already, no need to relive it.” Like any good salesperson, Everly took out an orange pill bottle with colored pills on the inside and shook it, like she was trying to amuse someone with a noisemaker. “Have you met my good friend Molly? Just as a suggestion.”

“Oh, Jesus, God, no!” Cael reacted viscerally at the implication that he might be looking for hard drugs. He hugged himself and rubbed at his arms, as if defending against unwanted needles. “Nothing crazy like that, I don’t even know what like half the words you’re saying are! I mean, I’m not a square or anything, I’ve smoked at parties and stuff and that's cool, but it makes me kinda sleepy. Probably because I don’t get enough sleep, but anyway, you’re clearly much more knowledgeable in… this, so I’m definitely open to suggestions! How about I just say what I’m looking to get out of it?”

Cael waited for a sign of encouragement before he kept going. “I really love dancing, I’ve done ballet since I was a kid and picked up some latin styles more recently too. So something that will keep me dancing all night for sure! But also, like, just feeling good. I’ve heard there’s stuff that like, makes your skin feel nice and, well…” A blush of pink once again began to tint the apples of his cheeks. “Like you said, I’m a Candy, I love love, and flirting, and touching, and… all that.” He stopped and chewed at his lip in anticipation. “Oh also, like, I work at an ice cream shop… I’m not really super loaded, so nothing crazy expensive.”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna smoke at a party. You wanna make sure you smoke before a party, especially one where there’s gonna be loud music and bright lights and shit.” Everly might not have been knowledgeable about many things they teach at school, but when it came to getting high she was like a damned guru. Between that and skateboarding, one of those had to be a career option for her; though only one would tend to keep her out of jail. “I never woulda figured you for a ballet dancer. I bet your feet are all kinda fucked up. Like that movie with the chick from Thor? Where she like…” Rather than simply say ‘masturbates’, Everly instead very poorly and very crudely mimed the act by flicking an index finger up and down next to her hand making half an OK sign. “I forget the name of it. Shit was crazy boring, dude. But ballet’s cool. Latin styles like…flamingo? I guess that makes sense, since ballet outfits are, like, pink and shit and so are flamingos.”

The Candy Prince chuckled, assuming that she was purposely saying flamingo as a joke. “I’ve never tried flamenco, mostly just the Latin American styles. Salsa, tango, bachata… that kind of thing. Trixie got me into it, she was running out of partners that could keep up.”

Everly’s ramblings rarely had a point beyond trying to connect with the various customers, which actually made her somewhat effective at her job even if she didn’t realize it. Cael had been nervous when he approached her and Everly had hoped that by letting him talk and being interested that he would be considerably less nervous. She absolutely did not think ballet was cool, she’d never seen a ballet performance outside a movie in her life - but it didn’t matter. If Cael did ballet, then it was cool because Cael was a customer and all customers were cool. Except for the dicks. But Cael wasn’t a dick. Simple.

“Since you’re new to this, I’m not gonna get into candyflipping but if you want my suggestion, you can’t go wrong with the classic E. Well, you can if you overdose but that won’t happen. There’s also 2C-B or K, but you don’t wanna do K at an unfamiliar place with a bunch of strangers; it’s like shrooms that way. Also between you and me, I don’t really ever like given’ K out cuz a lotta creep ass dudes use it like a roofie and I ain’t about that shit. Not that I think you would or anythin’.” Everly, as always, was getting off topic. Her pitches probably needed tightening up, but she’d rather be honest and upfront rather than just giving a rookie something that would make them have the worst possible trip.

“Eww, men are pigs.” Cael said with an expression dripping with disgust. “And, yeah, please nothing that is easy to overdose on… or super addictive. I’m just wanting to have a little extra fun, I’m celebrating!”

“Here, dude, this might be what you need.” Everly tipped a bottle into a small ziploc bag. Circular pills of purple, yellow, and blue fell into the bag and each one had a little smiley face or heart on it like it was some kind of vitamin for over the counter transactions.

“Take one of these. It starts kicking in about thirty minutes after and by an hour in you’re gonna be feeling like you’re movin’ in slow motion. You’re gonna be happier than you’ve ever been and if you get lucky and hook up, well…” She didn’t have a metaphor. She let it hang. “Anyway, lasts about six hours, give or take, but I absolutely don’t suggest doubling up. Drink plenty of water - coconut water if you got it - and the morning after, eat a banana. As for the price, if this is what you want, normally it’s 30 a pill. I dunno how many you want but I’d be willin’ to do some squid per row. Toss a discount at your ice cream shop and I can say 50 for a half dozen.”

Squid… per row? Cael was doing his best to focus on her instructions like they were gospel, he did not want to fuck this up. Assuming that any words he didn’t quite understand were just drug dealing speak that he didn’t want to embarass himself by asking about, he nodded fervently. He retrieved his wallet and plucked out two twenties and a ten dollar bill, having come prepared with cash, since he figured dealers didn’t want anything traceable. “This is molly, right? Sure, yeah, 50 sounds good, and as long as my manager isn’t behind the counter I'll just charge you for a baby cone or something else cheap.” He handed her the money with quick discreteness, feeling far more comfortable now that he got to know Everly a bit more. “They’re cute… they kinda do look like candies.”

“Molly, E, Scooby Snacks, Disco Biscuits, and even Candy…there’s like a dozen names for things. I don’t know why. Probably to throw off the cops or whatever.” Everly didn’t know every street name for the products the PLC sold, but she knew more than most would likely assume given her GPA and her difficulty with words having more than two syllables. “I should also probably mention that you probably don’t wanna have too much alcohol after you take it. If you get drunk then the molly’ll stay in you longer and then you run the risk of, like, havin’ a bad time.” Shit, she was sounding like an anti-drug PSA and that was annoying her something fierce. But as much as Everly wanted people to enjoy the products the PLC provided, she wanted them to enjoy them as responsibly as they could. That would lead to repeat business and less chance of cops, teachers, or worse, parents cracking down on them because some rich kid decided they could fly off the roof thanks to some hallucination. As much as she hated a lot of the elitism going around, Everly didn’t want anyone dead. Not even the Strattons.

“Oh, that’s fine. Too much alcohol makes me feel gross and bloated anyway. So not cute, t-b-h.” Cael flashed his signature cheeky grin. “Thanks for the explanations and, uh, everything.” He punctuated the sentence by gesturing with the bag of Candy before tucking it away safely in an inner zipper pocket of his duffel bag.

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya. While you’re still here…that, uh, Green gatherin’...you wouldn’t happen to know where and when it’s goin’ down? Just so I can, like, tell Sav and Adds and Nev.”

“Of course, I was actually gonna say — consider yourself officially invited. I heard it was kinda unofficially announced on The Morning Show, but I missed it. The scoop I got is that it’s like…. Risky Business themed so we’re supposed to like, have a change of clothes? Something about meeting in the parking lot after king and queen are announced, I don’t know if they’ll have a bus or multiple limos or what, it is the Greens, after all. Ethan is hosting it at his family’s vineyard which is like, a big deal apparently, I don’t think any of us peasants have ever even seen it before.” He shrugged in explanation, but his eyes were focused elsewhere. His mismatched gaze was locked on the skateboard Everly was rolling back and forth on the pavement beneath her foot.

“I bet you can do all kinds of cool shit, huh? Can you show me a trick?” One might mistake Cael for someone who actually knew their way around a board based on the way he dressed. He had a fondness for dark skinny jeans, Vans, and Converse, but it was mostly just an appreciation for the fashion rather than being an actual part of skater punk culture.

Everly’s initial thought, namely wondering what the fuck Risky Business was, quickly passed to the side when Cael did something few, if any, customers ever did: asked to see a trick. Anything else he said before that, about a bus or it being at a vineyard - she didn’t even know those existed outside of Napa or someplace owned by Martha Stewart on the east coast - no longer mattered as the skater girl lit up like a spotlight at a Hollywood premiere. “Fuck yeah I can show you a trick, dude. You just, like, skyrocketed up the list of favorite customers.”

Everly got to her feet and adjusted the baseball cap on her head while, at the same time, stepped on the back of her board to kick it vertically into her waiting hand. Not a movement was wasted, it was as if adjusting the hat activated a different Everly, one who had a look of gentle determination rather than aloof ease. Without a word, Everly turned and took off at a slight run, her skateboard in her left hand with the tail of the board dragging on the ground. Dropping the board onto its wheels on the concrete, Everly planted her dominant foot by the front bolts and her backfoot by the front of the tail. The way she balanced on the moving board gave off a confidence she rarely felt otherwise; it was here, on top of the board, where she truly felt in control of her own destiny.

After getting a brief distance away from Cael, she pivoted to face him while maintaining momentum and movement and, most importantly, speed. As the wheels carried her closer to the bench, she crouched a little, entering her ollie stance, and with foot movements that would make a hot butter knife feel jealous of the smoothness, she popped the board up with her backfoot and she was airborne. Her feet left the board, hovering above it as the board did a full rotation. It was only after the rotation ended that Everly’s front foot made contact with the board once again and stopped any further rotations before she landed with both feet just past the bench she had been sitting on.

“We call that a 360 Pop Shove-it. Took me half a summer vacation to master that one. I like to bust it out because people mistake it for a kickflip but it’s so much harder than a kickflip, dude. It’s pretty sick, right?” Everly rolled to a stop, stepping off her board and once again kicking it up into her left hand. “Do you board, dude? You seem like you board.”

Cael was still beaming from being called one of her favorite customers. She might call all of her customers that, but Cael was as optimistic as he was naive, so he took it as high praise. He liked being people’s favorite anything, even if it was their favorite pain in the ass. That’s what his dad always called him. Once Everly finished her 360 Bop-It or whatever, Cael clapped encouragingly. He might not recognize the name, but it definitely looked pretty cool. “That was sick! And, nah, I don’t skate. I was interested back in 7th grade and my parents got me a board for my 12th birthday because I begged for one… but then it was too hard to teach myself and none of my friends really did it so I lost interest pretty fast. I’m super jealous though, that was really cool!”

The Candy boy looked thoughtful for a moment as he sucked in his bottom lip. It only took a matter of seconds to make the quick decision to just ask what he wanted to. You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, right? “Hey, I know I already asked you for a lot, but do you think you could teach me something simple? I could make it worth your while…” Cael smirked in offering. “I’ll provide you my services as a Candy. Tell me, Everly Rigby, what’s your type?”

Teach? It took Everly a good couple beats before she realized Cael must’ve been talking about a skateboard trick and not, like, something out of a textbook. That was a subject she was more qualified and, importantly, able to do. The first thing to learn, after balancing and the tic tac, was an ollie. If someone could ollie, they were basically on their way to doing kick flips and grinds and twists. “Yeah, dude, I can teach you something. You wanna use my board or-” Everly wasn’t interrupted by words, but by her brain fully processing the exchange Cael was proposing. The sudden pause in her words were partnered with Everly blushing like she finally realized she had a habit of saying things that made people wonder if she was playing with a full deck of cards.

“Uh…my type? Uh…like…my ideal girl?” She was stalling. She hoped he wouldn’t realize. He probably did. Fuck. That made it worse. She couldn’t just say that Stella Manning was her type - that wasn’t even necessarily true she just had a crush on Stella. But then why couldn’t she think of a type? She liked blondes but she liked brunettes and even redheads sometimes but if she just said her type was ‘girl’ that wasn’t helpful and also made her seem shallow or something. What the fuck why was this such a difficult question? “Well I’m pretty short so, like, someone taller than me?” She was 5’4” by her last count. She didn’t actually have a height preference but she did like the visual of having a taller girl collapsing into her arms after…well the picture only made her blush darken.

“Like…if I had to pick a hair color I guess…I guess blonde. She can’t, like, be into Jesus or whatever and she can’t be straight, obviously. Bisexual is fine - too many lesbians act like bi people don’t count and it’s lame as fuck, dude. Uh…physically I won’t, like, turn down someone who maybe is, like, a fan of getting a large order.” Trying to be nice about it only made it sound worse, she thought. “But I’d be lying if I said that would be my first choice. Uh…I’m a boob girl before a butt girl. If she laughs at my jokes then that’s a plus. Is…is any of that useful? I feel like it’s not. I dunno, dude, I never thought about it.” Everly was regretting not just describing her crush in detail; it would’ve been far less embarrassing.

“Oh, no, don’t worry, it’s totes useful! Hmm.” Cael tapped at his chin in thought. “You know, this would be my first lesbian ship. Honestly, sooo exciting. So… a busty blondie with a body that knows what she likes and has a good sense of humor. Understandable, good taste, good taste. You know…” He let his voice trail off, contemplating his next words carefully. Unfortunately for them both, Cael never was one for caution. “I might be suggesting something a little close to home, but it sounds like you’d really dig one of my besties. Stella Manning, you know her? She’s not exactly single right now, but she’s pretty pissed at her boyfriend, and between you and me, I’ve been keeping a close eye on him and… let’s just say I’m not so sure he’s been entirely faithful to my queen. Do with that what you will!” If he had a cup of tea, this would be the precise moment that he sipped it.

It was a good thing that Everly didn’t have her cranberry juice in hand or else it would’ve been staining the ground with artificial flavorings. Of course Cael was friends with Stella Manning, why wouldn’t he be, he was a cheerleader and did shit with the school or whatever. Did he know and this was his way of being oh-so-subtle or did he not know and Everly was just not very good at hiding her current fascination? Shit, she was this close to trying out for a school play before graduation if it meant getting to, like, run lines. She wouldn’t, though; Everly had no interest or chops for acting. “Shit, dude, did Sav put you up to this?” Her tone, despite the question, was not accusatory. Bewildered was more apt. “Or Penny Amato? Shit, man, I knew telling them about my crush on Stella was gonna bite my ass.”

“Wh—Sav? …Penny?” Cael began to ask in confusion before Everly inevitably sealed her own fate. “Oh, wow, damn, I’m better at this Candy shit than I thought. Nice!”

Wait, there was trouble in Stella’s relationship? That was…informative, but also something Everly had to tuck under her cap for the moment. Even if it was only for a night or out of revenge for a potentially unfaithful partner…being a rebound wouldn’t be the worst thing in Everly’s life. Hell, it might be one of the best. “I said that out loud. Fuck. Okay, yeah, dude, I have a crush on Stella Manning but, like, who doesn’t, dude. You can’t tell her, she’ll think I’m lame if you tell her. She’ll probably think I’m lame anyway but at least if I tell her it’s less lame. I guess you’re gonna tell the Candies or whatever. Shit at this point who doesn’t know. Her boyfriend is really cheatin’ on her? What a fuckin’ shit ass dumb fuck, dude. Ain’t no one in our year better than Stella Manning, dude, and some dumbshit is throwin’ that away? Don’t tell me who it is, man, or I’ll punch him for being an idiot.”

“Woah woah woah, no, don’t worry about any of that, babes. You’re good, I won’t tell her. That’s not how I do business. I plant seeds, like your friend Addie, ‘cept mine are seeds of loooove. Wait, that sounds lewd, not like that. Yeah, anyway. I’ve already planted one in telling you that juicy little tidbit.” Cael shrugged with a proud smirk, suddenly feeling quite full of himself. “I won’t say who it is, but I’m kind of surprised you don’t know already. Honestly, the fact that you don’t know is kinda suspicious, right? Like, who keeps dating Stella Manning on the D-L, she’s a fucking bombshell. I’d be screaming it from the rooftops if it were me, ya know, if I swung that way. Trust me, I’ve tried, but now even oysters freak me out — all the more for you, my new sapphic friend! Anyway, it’s not like I knowww he’s cheating,”

Cael was probably admitting more than he should be and this could definitely come back to bite him in the ass, but it all came from a place of love. Stella was one of his best friends, and she wasn’t really happy with Ethan, at least she didn’t seem to be. She deserved far better in Cael’s eyes. The starlet deserved someone that would treat her like a goddess, and he could tell from that hopeful desperation in Everly’s gaze that she would worship the very ground the blonde walked upon. Hell, she was already threatening violence against her transgressors. All things considered, Cael continued, “It’s just that I’ve seen him buying sunflowers and lilies before at the florist across the street from where I work. It’s Creamistry, by the way, for your discounts. I work on the weekends. But… anyone who knows anything about Stella knows she loves peonies, or even like, anything pink if he's too lazy to remember specifics. But sunflowers? And lilies? Kinda sus if you ask me. I guess he could've been buying them for his mom or whatever but.... Just some food for thought.”

And just like that, another seed had been planted. Everly now knew Stella’s favorite flower, what she did with all of this newfound knowledge was up to her. Cael had more than made good on his end of the bargain. “And you’re totally not lame, Ev. You’ve got a cool hobby and you’re really funny. I like you a lot, actually. If nothing else, I can see a budding friendship in our future. Now, how about that trick? Maybe you can help me look cool enough to land myself a skater boi!”

Peonies. Anything pink. Pink. Peonies. Pink. Peonies. Everly didn’t know the first thing about flowers - she thought roses having thorns was just a song lyric, like a metaphor or whatever - but she committed the word peonies to memory. If Stella liked peonies, Everly was going to make sure she had one on hand when she did eventually make her move. Or maybe it would be cool and possibly romantic if she sent a flower delivery to Stella during school hours. No, that was probably gonna be seen as creepy, plus did anyone go for secret admirer stuff anymore? Shit, why did this stuff have to be so hard? Why couldn’t it be simple? Like…skateboarding. Right. Skateboarding.

“Right, the trick. The squid per row. If I knew any cute skater boys I’d introduce you. Well there’s Dash but I think you’d, like, be exhausted by him. And not even in the fun, sweaty kinda way, y’know? But anyway, here.” Everly placed her board down in front of Cael and stood to the side of it, across from Cael with the board between them. “First thing to do is get on, you probably have before since you had one but just to remind - if your front foot is the right then that’s goofy stance, left foot forward is regular. Put your forward foot by the bolts up front and your dominant foot on the back, by the tail. You can use my shoulders for support if you need it, dude. Just get on and find your balance. Even weight between your legs. You think you got it, dude?”

“Like a super relaxed fourth position, yeah, I remember that” Cael nodded before stepping up on the board. He was sure the ballet reference went over Everly’s head, but it helped him conceptualize how he should stand. The wheels rolled forward slightly with his added weight upon the board, but he kept his balance without much effort. “Balance shouldn’t be a problem, and yes, super familiar with weight between my legs, got it.” He joked with a chuckle. “Okay, what’s next?”

“Now comes the fun part.” Everly took a step back and looked down at the board, specifically at Cael’s feet and how they were positioned. An approving nod fueled the way to the next part of her lesson. “What you’re gonna do now is snap the tail, that means push down with your back foot and then jump up and, at the same time, roll your front foot to the nose of the board. That creates lift. it sounds weird, dude, cuz it is, but it’s just timing. Snap, jump, roll, all at the same time. And then when you’re in the air, straighten your legs out as the board levels and land it. It might be shaky at first, but with the right timing you’ll get it. This is, like, the foundation of most tricks. Learn this and you can learn other shit. Give it a try. Remember: snap, jump, roll.” Everly snapped her finger after each direction. “You got this, dude. Just think of all the cute skater boys in your future.”

“Shit, don’t say that! I’ll get all distracted and then I will fuck it up.” Cael giggled as he revisited Everly’s instructions in mental preparation. Snap, jump, roll. Snap, jump, roll. He practiced shifting his weight, tilting, and moving his ankles in the correct patterns without putting any weight behind it, just to get a feel for the motions before he tried it for real. It seemed simple enough. Too simple, if he was being honest, but she was the expert here. Cael was far from a good student, but never from lack of effort. He’d already taken one big risk today, so this seemed paltry in comparison. You know, unless he fucked up an ankle and could never dance again.

Cael swallowed what felt like a solid rock. Shit, he was thinking about it too much, he was gonna pussy out. He closed his eyes tight and took in a sharp inhale of breath to prepare. Snap, jump, roll. Three. Two. One.

GO!

The pixie punk-in-training put his weight and calf muscles into the maneuver this time. Despite giving it a good college try, the board only leapt a few centimeters off of the pavement. There was that, and Cael landed a little too far forward on the right side of the board, causing it to jump out from behind him while he stumbled towards his skater sensei. Catching himself with quick footwork and a steadying hand on Everly’s shoulder, he let out a nervous chuckle. From the outside, it was a pretty pathetic ollie, but with the rest of this afternoon’s stressors factored in, it had Cael’s heart racing.

“Haha, I don’t know man… I might be too amped up right now.” His words sounded surprisingly breathless, and a little self-doubting. Cael’s gaze flicked towards the bleachers and the field. The pep rally was already underway, he couldn’t stick around too much longer without his absence being noticed. “Squid per row… what a weird name for a trick. Could we try it another time? Maybe with some more show and tell — here, let’s get each other’s numbers.” He suggested, plucking his phone out of his right pocket and tapping out a quick contact name for her: Everly 🛹.

“That was a good try, dude, honest. My first attempt at it landed me on my ass. You’ll get it.” Everly never understood people who saw someone not get it right the first time and get frustrated; no one got it right the first time, that was the whole point of practicing. Hell, even the pros fell off their boards like anyone else. “You want a lesson, I’m here to teach it any time, dude.” There was a brief look of confusion when Cael referred to the trick as squid per row but figured she must’ve caused said confusion by using the term in the first place. Correcting people always made you look like an asshole, though, so she didn’t do it. Instead, she took out her phone - the front of the case had a crack on it from one too many bails on the board - and her contact name for Cael came with the descriptor ‘Ice Cream and Candy’. “I’m here every weekday. On weekends I’m usually by the EZ Park store or hangin’ out somewhere. Just hit me up for a lesson or whatever, we’ll work it out. Does your name start with a ‘k’. Like the chips? Kale?”

Cael didn’t even bother to contain his giggles, his shoulders shook with laughter. “Do— haha, Do I look like a leafy vegetable to you?” He took a breath to gather himself before explaining. “Cael with a C, it’s Irish. C-A-E-L. My mom is big into fantasy and elves and stuff and wanted to name me Caeldyn, but my dad said that was too weird. I dunno though, I kinda like it. Maybe I’ll change it to the original some day.”

“Oh, that’s cool as hell, I wish my mom was into fantasy and not, like, afternoon martinis and plastic surgery. My parents couldn’t decide between Evelyn or Emily and Everly came out.”

While saving Everly’s contact info, Jonah’s name caught Cael’s eye from his recent contacts list. He was reminded of the mysterious note waiting to be solved in his other pocket. Would Jonah call himself a ‘Secret Admirer’? The admiration was hardly a secret. It’s not like there was any label to what they were exactly… friends with benefits, perhaps? Nothing serious, just some teenage fun on speed dial. Cael decided that even though it would be weird for Jonah to sign a note as anything other than himself, he might as well reach out just to be sure. To cross a possibility off of the list, so to speak. Cael considered Jem as well for a moment, but then laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought — A) he would never do something so cheesy and B) his handwriting was definitely not that neat.

To: Jonah 🎲:
Hey
Did you leave a note in my locker today?

Not wanting to be rude and stare at his phone for too long, Cael pocketed the device after sending the texts. He brought his attention back to the skater girl before him. “You really are hilarious, you know that? I think Stel would definitely laugh at your jokes.” He beamed an encouraging smile her way. A cacophony of hoots and hollers sounded from beyond the bleachers, once again calling to the cheerleader like a siren song. “Hey, I’ve loved this. All of this, really, and I’m sorry I was so awkward at first, but… I should probably get going before they start calling my name on the loudspeaker and everyone finds out I was buying drugs in the parking lot. Bad press for both of us with teachers still being about and all.”

“I’ll see you soon, maybe at the party tomorrow? I’ll bring coconut water!” Cael gave her a purposefully dorky thumbs up and then waved goodbye. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket after he took a few steps, but then suddenly remembered something from earlier that he had meant to ask but forgot about — a common issue with having about a hundred thoughts a minute, even more if caffeinated. “Oh, wait a sec, I meant to ask earlier… what’s a popper?” And why did she think it was offensive to assume he wanted one? Them?... It?

This time, the sidewalk wasn’t so lucky; Everly had taken a sip from her cranberry juice and the mouthful was now decorating the ground as Cael asked his question. Fuck. She forgot she had mentioned poppers out loud, but then most of her thoughts found a way to leave the relative safety of her brain one way or another. Cael was cool, he would probably not be mad about an explanation, but it still made for an…awkward ask and even more awkward was the way Everly was stammering and ‘Uhming’ and ‘Uhhing’ as her eyes darted around looking for a way out.

But the only way out was through.

“Poppers are like…uh…it’s like…a chemical…it’s…they come in like little jars…uh…” She wasn’t doing a good job explaining it. She knew she wasn’t but what was she supposed to do? Be upfront and honest? Probably. “You..like..inhale them. Like sniffing. Like…smelling gasoline. Uh…I asked cuz..like..poppers have an effect…like…uh…beyond just…beyond just the high…it…uh…I mean…I just thought…you like skater boys and you’re…I mean I don’t wanna assume but…” Everly wanted to die. In her mind this was how she was gonna sound when talking to Stella and why she still hadn’t.

“Poppers…fuck…they…gay dudes, not like all but like…club dudes…gay dudes like to sometimes…use poppers before…” Everly made an ‘OK’ gesture with her left hand and pushed her right index finger into the ‘O’. Back and forth. “Poppers…help relax the butthole. It makes…it makes anal sex…like…feel better. And since I assumed you might…uh…hook up…I just…I mean I wouldn’t really have a use but..uh..yeah…they’re…they’re used for anal.”

It didn’t feel any better now that she had gotten it out.

Cael’s eyebrows stitched together in confusion at Everly’s sudden stuttering. Was she getting nervous talking about drugs? He didn’t think drug dealers would get anxious about their own product, but that said, it made him feel far less embarrassed about his own antics earlier. As soon as she said ‘gay dudes’, everything started to make sense. The stuttering, the assumption — Cael’s lips formed a surprised ‘O’ when buttholes were suddenly in the conversation.

“Oh… oh oh!” The Candy murmured as the realizations came pouring in. Despite typically being quite the empath, Cael’s body language didn’t mirror Everly’s sudden bashfulness. Being raised by a sex ed teacher as a mom meant that Cael grew up with very little shame and a healthy attitude about the topic. His hungry appetite for sex, however, was entirely nature rather than nurture.

“Oh, wow, so that’s what those were. I just recently got an ID, so I’ve only been clubbing a couple of times, but I thought people were just, like, taking weird shots... Jesus, good thing I didn’t drink one!” Cael laughed at his own naivety. How embarrassing! His cheeks flushed pink and he covered his giggling mouth with a hand. Once his laughter subsided, he cleared his throat to speak.

“Well, I definitely don’t need any help relaxing, and I like it a little rough anyway. Plus, you said nothing that goes up your nose, right?” Cael adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder with a smirk.

“You really just immediately pegged me for a bottom, huh? Here’s hoping that’s not the only pegging you’ll do in the future,” he said with a teasing wink, firing a goofy finger gun at her. Sure, he was making a bit of an assumption on her sexual preference, but so did she. He figured he was fairly owed one back. His phone vibrated again in his pocket, and this time Cael reached down to check the two messages he'd missed.

From: Jonah 🎲:
No.
You have a secret admirer? 😜

To: Jonah 🎲:
wait... it really wasn't you?
uhm
maybe?

From: Jonah 🎲:
You would know if it were me.
I’m not subtle when it comes to you.
And maybe? How does the letter read?

The last three messages would be unintentionally ghosted as Cael's stomach began doing more flips than the cheer squad was about to — as long as Cael's thoroughly distracted mind could focus long enough to catch them, that is.

BHHS: Limitless

_{FT: AJ Tyler
Includes Dom's Garage Employees:
Eiran Goldstein & Chris Reyes
@LovelyComplex & @Grimoire Gaming
Small FT: Decky Boaz @Aces Away}

With KIIS-FM radio station playing ‘Shut Up And Dance’ by Walk the Moon through the garage’s sound system, Eiran Goldstein spent this early morning drinking his black coffee and straightening up his office. Call him old fashioned but he liked the radio. It was less work than spotify, apple music, the youtube, or whatever these kids use nowadays. For the most part, he didn’t mind the latest hits. It kept him informed, up-to-date, and hip. Without the radio or the news on the TV, or his son who read articles on the web, Eiran would be considered, especially during this day and age, an old dog. An old dog that just had a hard time learning new tricks. New tricks like learning how to use a smartphone that could break if you didn’t buy a hefty case with it.

He wasn’t that old. He was thirty seven but with his upbringing, the only thing he cared about learning was the ins and outs of the garage. Everyone else can deal with the new software for the computer when Dom upgrades things every couple of years. Everyone else can keep the books in check and make sure they got inventory when they need parts. Everyone else can understand the business side of things while he focuses on the grease.

Something about keeping up with the times... just didn’t mesh well with Eiran Goldstein. He was a good mechanic, one of the best, but learning new gadgets and gizmos hurt his goddamn brain. Thank Hashem his son, brothers, nephews, Chris and all their friends were smart enough to get a keurig machine to work. Shit was hard! He remembered the days when he’d be grateful to even have water to drink, now they’re here living like kings with fancy coffee makers. Stupid technology.

He was in a good mood though. There were no calls from school that his family needed bailing. There were no calls from the cops that his family needed bailing. There were no calls from the power duo that was his wife, Devorah, and his best friend’s fiancée, Junie, that he, himself, or Zo needed bailing from. He’d consider that a good day when none of his family needed a get out of jail free card. With the music at a reasonable level, where he could hear the bell if someone entered the garage lobby, Eiran put his coffee mug on the desk and started dusting. His mug had a picture of him, his wife, and his son on it and over their head there was text that read: World’s Best Dad. He did a subtle head bob as he walked around the office with a rag and wiped down the shelves, counters and furniture.

Lifting picture frames of his family, having a frame for all those he loved — his garage family, his immediate family, his nephews, his brothers, his best friends, and all the gearheads that made the garage their second home — Eiran smiled to himself. He was proud of how far they all came. To think he used to sleep at graveyards just to get away from his parents. That was until Hershey was born. Now he had a home, he had a son, and he was able to take care of all his family. With the help of his wife and best friends, of course. And Dominic Tyler. He couldn’t have done any of this without Dom providing a stable source of income and a small pad to crash at for a bit until his crew was able to settle and build a proper life with security, safety and soundness of mind.

After wiping down the last bit of side table, holding a picture of the Boaz brothers in one hand, Eiran heard loud music from outside, louder than HIS music, and an even louder, abrupt honk. Maybe he spoke too soon about the sound of mind thing. This was a place that somehow had the worst teen drama and angst and that was solely because the heart of the pack was a DRAMA QUEEN. AJ-Fucking-Tyler. Nothing like his father. More like his mother. “Mordechai better not be with him,” Eiran grumbled under his breath.

Leaving the rag behind, knowing Chris was occupied with a job, Eiran left his office just when the bell rang. Today was Chris’ shop day and fortunately for Chris he had a part time job here. Eiran had no qualms for the boy to get paid with money AND credits. Eiran liked doing business with WVC. It was a good place. Set kids like him and Chris on the right path. He didn’t attend. By the time he settled in LA he was too old, but if he had the option when he was younger, he would’ve. When he reached the lobby Eiran stopped in his tracks. Dom’s son’s eyes were bloodshot, his face was wet, and his hair was going every which way because of the wind. This was not Eiran’s wheelhouse at all.

“Where’s Chris?” AJ unhooked his glasses off his shirt and put them back on his face, thinking that would be enough to hide the stress and pain boiling inside of him.

“Usual spot… back there. Doin’ a brake job. Uh, you…” Eiran stopped himself. He knew how AJ would answer if he checked up on him. Instead he decided to just leave it to Chris to do the heavy lifting. He didn’t get paid enough to be on AJ babysitting duty. “CHRIS, AJ IS HERE FOR YOU!” Rubbing his neck, Eiran cleared his throat, “There’s donuts… in the break room. If you want some.”

“I’m good, thanks,” AJ responded, giving a weak smile and trying to pretend that he didn’t want to jump off the nearest cliff. His phone vibrated. He checked it and saw that Decky texted him. As he made his way to the garage, he texted back:

TO: fellow fuckhead
I fucked up.

AJ Tyler

The response came back immediately.

FROM: fellow fuckhead
First: U safe?

Decky Boaz

TO: fellow fuckhead
Yeah. With Chris.

AJ Tyler

FROM: fellow fuckhead
Good
Talk 2 Chris 4 now
There if u need me
talk l8r if not
Dont piss off my uncles

Decky Boaz

TO: fellow fuckhead
k… uh

AJ Tyler

AJ paused when he saw Chris’ feet from under a car. Should he? Or would that ruin Decky’s day? Biting his inner cheek, anxious, he decided to give into his impulse, knowing this could backfire and bring up a painful conversation later. He needed to, though. He was worried and Decky was one of his best friends.

TO: fellow fuckhead
if you see Jamie, can you make sure he is ok?
I’mma go now. ✌️

AJ Tyler

FROM: fellow fuckhead
Typing…
Typing…
Typing…

Decky Boaz

The length of the message that eventually came through on his phone did not match the wait it took to send it.

FROM: fellow fuckhead
He’s fine
was bein usual dick self in hr
We’ll talk l8r bout it

Decky Boaz

Despite hearing Eiran call out from the front that AJ was here for him, Chrysler kept working at his current task. His job and internship at the garage was something, and perhaps the only thing, that Chris took seriously. Besides Emmy, of course — the two aspects of his life that he really didn’t want to fuck up — his future, if he had any choice in the matter.

A few moments passed before he heard the sound of footsteps in the bay he was stationed in for the day. There was an even longer pause after the footsteps ceased, the only noise coming from the wrench Chris was ratcheting a bolt tightened with.

“You’re quiet…” he said without sliding out from under the car he was replacing the brake line on. A quiet AJ was never a good sign.

“Isn’it a Friday too? Don’t ya have school or some shit?” The same could be asked of Chris, but Fridays were his internship days at the shop, which he got school credit for and was actually required for seniors at WVC. The internship day, that is, not specifically one at a garage. The Westwood Vocational Center taught all manner of trades.

“Yeah, I guess so,” AJ whispered back, pocketing his phone and trying to gather his thoughts. The thoughts, his regret, the pain, and the fucking downright horror of what he did, replayed over and over and over in his mind. He looked at his hands, hands that were that of a man, hands that had power to heal and harm, and hands that hurt Jamie. Fidgety, he cracked his knuckles, debating if this was a mistake. Should he have just gone about his day? Should he have chased Jamie down? Should he have said he was sorry? Should he even be here? What was he even doing?

His father sometimes got angry, but he never hurt his mother, and if he did try to assert his dominance, she would slap him in the face or get violent. His mother was absolutely terrifying when she got angry. Why didn’t Jamie get violent? Why didn’t he fight back? Why didn’t he just… hate him? It would’ve been so much easier if he hated him but those eyes, that final gaze of pain in his eyes, fucking ruined AJ. He hated this. He hated this feeling so much. He went in thinking he was doing the right thing, breaking off their fuck buddy arrangement, but it only turned into him desperately wanting Jamie to admit that he loved him and he loved being loved by him. He just wanted Jamie and it was killing him. Killing him slowly.

He stopped in his tracks staring away from Chris, looking outside of the garage, at all the cars passing by. The more he pressed replay, the more he hated himself. The more he wanted to feel nothing. “I know what you’re going to say. ‘I told you so’. But yeah, you were fucking right. I shouldn’t have went back to him. I’m stupid for ever thinking Jamie actually was that into me.” What are you saying? You know he is into you. Just not enough to commit but certainly enough to feel absolute shock after you hurt him.

“Mm—” Chris grunted as he popped the line out and let the old brake fluid drain into the pan he had set out for that purpose. “Ain’t much for ‘I told ya so’s’. I know when I’m right, an’ whether or not ya come to see that’s true is on you, brother.”

Chris bent a knee and pushed himself out from under the bed of the car, aided by the creeper wheeler he was laying on. Sitting up and wiping the oil from his hands with a dirty shop rag, he looked up to his friend for the first time — noting the red cheeks and sunglasses indoors — and sighed. This was gonna be a doozy. “I guess I can donate ya’ my government mandated fifteen, Tyler. C’mon, I need a cig for this.”

The mechanic led AJ out back to his usual break spot, an old wooden bench just around the corner from the dumpsters with an upside down five gallon bucket that had an ashtray on top of it. Fishing the red and white pack of Marlboro’s and a black Bic lighter out of his pocket, he tapped a cigarette out and placed it between his lips before offering AJ one from the pack as well.

“So… what happened?” he asked, taking a large draw of breath as he lit the cigarette into a bright red cherry, drawing the spicy smoke deep down into the darkest depths of his lungs. Healthy? Of course not! Chris was here for a good time, not a long one.

Waving his hand, declining the offer of cigarettes, even if it was tempting, AJ took a seat next to his friend and clasped his hands together. His right foot restlessly bounced as he hunched over, thinking of how to put this. He knew nothing he would say would really get Chris upset at him. Disappointed, sure. But not outright upset because Chris knew AJ well enough to know that whatever was going on with him was something more than who he was as a person. “I, uh.”

AJ Tyler was struggling with finding the right words. His mind was fading in and out of clarity. He was hyper attentive to his surroundings, to his friend, to the aching feeling in his chest, but his mouth was dry, coming out empty. He was scared. The moment he said what he did would be the moment he admitted that he was a god awful person who had no handle over his emotions. That he allowed himself in a place where he was actively willing to harm Jamie because the idea of not having him was devastating and maybe if he had more control Jamie would want him again. Want him in a way that romantic lovers do, not just fuck buddies.

“I met with Jamie and I…” His leg bobbed profusely. “I let him go. But you know how… we get and I, um, I— The words stumbled out like tumbleweeds, following the direction of his heart but leaping and rolling slowly out of his mouth. This was harder than usual. “—I hurt him, Chris.” He profoundly stated, pausing afterwards to unclasp his hands just to roughly rub his face, from his lower mouth down to his chin. “I just got so into the moment that I hurt him.”

“Alright…” Chris said, sighing out a deep exhale of smoke. He squinted up at the sky, and passively scratched at his chin in deep thought. There were a lot of things to unpack in AJ’s words, but as a friend, there was far more to unpack in his actions. He was sweating, pale as fuck, twitching, losing his words and trains of thought. This was more than just emotions or anxiety, Chris knew his boy, and right now, he was tweaking out.

“We’ll get back to that, but first,” he flicked some ashes into the tray on top of the bucket. “Take your sunglasses off. Look me in the eye, right now.” There was a seriousness in his tone as sharp as barbed wire.

“What? Why?” AJ was quick to protest, even going out of his way to stand right up and put distance between him and his best friend. “I don’t see why my glasses have anything to do with me needing you.” There was a tense feeling in his chest and uneasiness coursing through his veins, like he was being cornered. “I’ve been crying, okay, and I don’t want you to see that shit.”

“It has everything to do with it, actually. For why you need me, specifically, and not one of your Hills’ chums.” Chrysler replied casually, remaining seated and calm throughout AJ’s reaction, to show he wasn’t a threat. Not yet, at least. Not until he knew exactly what he was dealing with. “Cuz ya been doin’ more than cryin’, and I don’t really give a shit about that. And you know that. So fine, stay hidin’ behind your shades, I’m still gonna have ya tell me what you’ve done. Because it sure as shit ain’t weed, and it better not involve a fuckin’ needle.”

Chris’ sharp words stung and like a defeated puppy, AJ took off his sunglasses and hooked them on his shirt. He didn’t look his friend in the eyes though. It was clear he wasn’t proud of his actions from this morning. There was a voice that was telling him that he didn’t need Chris. Who was he to tell him what to do? How would he understand how he felt, like really? Chris had Emeline, sure, but that was hardly the same. Or maybe it was. Who was AJ to judge someone else’s love story?

God, he couldn’t think straight and where there was that voice, there was another voice telling him to breathe, be still, and listen. You came here for a reason. Let it play out before you run away and make things worse. He wanted to listen to both but he could only pick one. For now, he’d pick the quieter one. It wasn’t fair to Chris for him to act like a child when AJ sought him out. He wanted Chris. No one else but him. There was value behind that.

“I just needed a little… courage. But maybe I did a little too much because I got pretty amped.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the remaining snow he had on his person. “Like father, like son, I guess,” he meekly mumbled. He still needed to tell Chris what he did but that part terrified him. What if Chris didn’t like him anymore? Why did he go to Chris specifically? If he went to Decky at least he’d be rewarded with a black eye. He didn’t know why his impulse led him here but it was too late to go back. He was already here so he just had to be patient, if that was even possible, and let things play out. If Chris hated him after this, then he deserved it.

Chris took another long drag from his cigarette. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a tidal wave of relief at seeing that it was just coke in the baggie AJ fished out of his jacket. A rich people drug… it was addictive, sure, but not nearly as dangerous as smack or some of the other opioids going around the streets these days. “Courage, huh? I told you that shit’s for parties, it ain't for when you’re already feelin’ low.” Chris leaned back into the bench, crossing an ankle over his knee while his thumb drummed out a beat on his thigh.

“Makes shit worse. Alright, so you showed up all coked up to see your ex. And you…. hurt him? How? Like ya’ll came to blows or…?” he somewhat nervously awaited the answer. Chris held no love in his heart for the sandy-haired twink that made a game of ruining his homie’s life, but he certainly didn’t wish him injury, or worse… “And sit back the fuck down, please. Ain’t no safer place to be than with me right now, and you know I hate having to look up to people.” Short king problems.

Okay, fuck.

He’d sit back down.

Now beside Chris once more, AJ rubbed his jeans, trying to once again, amp himself up to say what he did. This was a lot harder than it looked like and it seemed that the coke had backfired; hardcore. “I was trying to prove a point,” he started, carefully treading forward, hesitant to sink before he even got to the point. “That Jamie only wants to fuck me because of how I make him feel. If you took out the heart and the fact that I can’t get him out of my fucking head, he’d hate me in seconds. That…” his voice trailed off momentarily as he felt the friction of his pants.

In a way this feeling was keeping him rooted to the chair. Doing something to keep him preoccupied as he spoke his painful truth was a good thing and it felt nice. His pants felt nice. While it probably looked silly, or concerning, it allowed his friend to see someone incredibly weak and stupid. It allowed AJ to not wear a cool mask and reveal how much of a mess he was and it was all because he put himself in a place to be so incredibly codependent on a boy that didn’t give a damn about him. “...that wouldn’t be a bad thing. If Jamie hated me. Maybe it would make things easy, you know?”

Finally, AJ looked at his friend and admitted, “I slammed him against a wall and treated him like a piece of meat. I wasn’t going to go too far, I promise. I couldn’t, or at least I thought I couldn’t… do something like that. All I did was overpower him and mark his neck… which could be hot, in like any other circumstance. He wasn’t listening to me. He was running away, like he always does and I just fucking grabbed him. Oh god, what if I did more to him? What if I have it in me to rape someone Chris? This is so fucking scary. I’m such a fucking horrible person.” And the tears started rushing out and AJ buried his face in his hands. “Why am I like this? Why do I care so much? I just want this pain to stop, Chris. I hate him so much.”

“You don’t, man. You’re right, it’d be easier if you did, hell, I wish you did hate that little shit, but you still love ‘em.” Chris stabbed out the spent cig in the ashtray and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees now. Folding his fingers together, he made a point to only look forward as he spoke, giving his friend the privacy to grieve the loss of his beau, and the loss of a piece of himself along the way. Some actions can’t be taken back, and there’s consequences you have to live with. That’s life, and it’s messy as fuck.

“That’s why your arrangement was never really going to work out, and it sucks that this is how it ended up. But, what’s done is done. Ya ain’t a horrible person, you just weren’t fully yourself with that snow in your system, and Jamie — he pushes buttons. That’s what he does, kid fucking makes a hobby of airing peoples dirty laundry in a shitty school newspaper, but never once looks at the pile of shit in his own hamper.” Chris stopped himself before he got too heated. He really, really did not like that snake.

“I’ma keep it real, what ya did ain’t great,” It was, by technical definition, sexual assault. Chris scratched the back of his head and raked his fingers through his gelled hair a couple of times before lacing his hands back together. “The way I see it, ya got two options, an’ they both kinda suck, but ya gotta choose one. First, you reach out, probably text him, it’s easier to get your words right and not get…. distracted.” As AJ would no doubt be if it was an in person conversation. “And apologize. Be totally for real, say you weren’t sober and you acted out of pocket and that you feel horrible. Be completely honest. And then, no matter what he says or does, just let it all go. I’m so serious, just, never talk again. Move on and start healing, there are literally so many other people out there.”

As selfishly satisfying as it would be to only provide that one line of advice and have his friend follow it, Chris knew AJ too well to leave it at that. The kid felt too deeply. “The second option starts much like the first. Come clean, honest apology, let all them feelings out. And then, say exactly what you were trying to tell him before he tried to run and you… acted out. Put those words in writing. Lay it out blank. Kid’s a so-called writer, right? So let him read it, then. Tell him how you feel, how he makes you feel, and how you want to feel. And if you can’t come to a mutual agreement, then this plan ends a bit like the first. Let it go, no contact, move on, heal, fuck somebody else. Love somebody else. Ya got a big heart, man, I know you got it in you.”

Both options were hard options. Admitting your flaws and coming clean, when he deliberately filtered his drug use from his ex, wasn’t going to be easy. Getting Jamie to listen, actively, wasn’t going to be easy. Letting go, well, that sounded damn near impossible. He was right, though. Of course Chris was right. He always was. He had a clear conscience and was a perfect third party. Not caught in the drama and heat that was Beverly Hills High.

Both options sounded painful but which one was worse? Cutting him completely off and moving on, or saying his peace, seeing the results, and if it still bears no fruit, cutting him off and moving on? Was it worth the effort to keep trying? It was obvious that no matter what he did, he was beating a dead horse. Being in such close vicinity to Jamie was not doing him any good or anyone for that matter. He just needed to decide and commit. Leave it at that. It wasn’t like he was alone. Not really. He had Rye and while it wasn’t love, it made him less lonely. Rye kept him company and it was nice. Maybe Rye was the answer to AJ moving on and finding someone that was good for him.

“Yeah, okay. I can do that,” AJ replied, his voice a little shaky as he tried to convince himself that this would be okay. He had a good support system and that goes a long way with grief. “... like now?” Pulling out his phone, AJ stared at it, debating if he should sober up a little or should he just speak out everything he just did with Chris, now that he’d calmed down?

“Maybe get donuts in you first,” Eiran came out to join them, making his presence known. The moment was coming to an end and soon Chris would need to get back to work. They had more jobs coming their way and lord knows Eiran didn’t want to stay at the garage all day on a Friday.

The whole garage consisted of Jewish men which meant they might all have a nosy spirit in them, especially his younger brother, Hirsch. Tiny little shit was hiding somewhere. “Seriously, you two go get some before Zo eats it all. Fuckin’ guy eating his nerves away because Junie can pop like any day now.”

Chris startled slightly at the voice of one of his superiors at the shop. He checked his phone quickly to make sure he hadn’t gone over fifteen on his “break”, if you could call it that. Hearing out AJ was more work than any measure of manual labor sometimes. “You got it, boss” he said coolly, standing up from the bench at long last. He looked back to his friend and noticed the baggie of white powder was still sitting on the bucket near the ashtray. Before heading off to fetch a donut, he said one last piece. A friendly zinger to lighten the mood, a return to the normalcy of their somewhat unlikely kinship. “And take your shit with you, please. Some of us need to work for a living, I ain’t havin’ your ass get me fired.”

“And I don’t want to go back to rehab,” Eiran humored the two, hoping his stupidity at least helped with the mood a little. Where was his wife when he needed her? Devorah was far better at this mushy, emotional shit. He held the door open for the two to come in. “Now come on, let's be fat before we have to be responsible.”

As Chris got up, AJ looked at his phone. He could do this, after a donut. Grabbing his packet, he slipped it into his pocket and followed his best friend and his dad’s confidant into the garage.

AJ was quiet again. The only words he had left to say were for Jamie and that was all thanks to his buddy Chris. This was a good visit. He needed it.

BHHS: Limitless

_{Timestamp: Before School Starts
Location: The Thomas Residence → Outside of Jade’s House
Main Characters: Oliver “Oli” Thomas @Grimoire Gaming
Cameos: Kit & Min Thomas by @Hey Im Jordan & @Fabricant451
Aesthetics: Credit to @LovelyComplex
TW: body weight/dysmorphia}

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As the sun began its slow ascent over the Beverly Hills skyline, casting golden hues through the windows of the converted 4-car garage home gym, Oli Thomas grunted amidst a symphony of clinking weights and the pulsating beats of GOT7. With the rhythm of the music driving his movements, he pushed himself through another set of deadlifts, the metallic clang echoing in the spacious room.

나 한번 뜨면 게임 다 정리돼

Once I appear, the game is over

His mind was divided between the musical motivation and the mental VOD review of the mistakes made in his final match last night. Each lift was a step closer to perfecting his physical prowess, a testament to the dedication that had propelled him to the upper echelons of both gaming and social media. A dedication that wouldn’t end until he reached the summit of success — there were always more rungs in the ladder to climb.

원하는 걸 전부 다 갖게 돼

I get everything I want

The cool morning air mingled with the faint scent of sweat as Oli's muscles tensed and flexed with each repetition, his determination unwavering despite the early morning hour. He relished these solitary moments, where the only competition he faced was against himself. That said, his greatest competition had always been himself — sacrificing body, mind, and a healthy social life in favor of the rise and grind.

물 타는 법을 알아

I know how to flow with the water

As the final chords of the punchy k-pop banger faded into the background, Oli wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. With one last glance at the clock, he knew it was time to wrap up his workout and prepare for the day ahead. His phone screen flashed to life as he swiped past the myriad of notifications that he’d long since learned to ignore. There were only so many DMs and comments that one high school boy could react to in a day.

난 오늘도 할 일 해 하드캐리해

Again today, I do what I have to, hard carry

Oli made his way to the shower his moms had installed in the garage-now-home-gym, lest he track his nasty man stink into their meticulously curated home. Washing away the sweat of his work out, he stepped out to dry off, snapping a good morning pic for Jade with a very carefully placed towel draped just below freshly cleaned and flexed abs. A good morning tease was, perhaps, a more apt description of the photo. Tossing the towel in the hamper, he got dressed in the red and black themed outfit he had picked out earlier that morning.

The sweet scent of fresh pancakes greeted his nose as Oli made his way back to the main house. The overweight middle school kid that lived inside him lusted after the taste of them, but he couldn’t cave. Being raised on meals catered to his stoner mom’s tastes did not treat his body kindly growing up, and he would do his damnedest to not fall back into old habits of the pudgy kid and preteen that he despised having been.

“Mornin’ moms,” he greeted casually upon entering the kitchen where the both of them were stationed. Oli went straight to the cabinet, pulling out the blender, a jar peanut butter, a canister of post-workout recovery powder, and his daily vitamins.

It wasn’t every morning that Min-seo was at the breakfast table let alone in the house itself. The high profile world of an in-demand fashion designer meant that, unfortunately, sometimes Min had to travel across the country or across the oceans for industry events, but when she was home she made sure to be around as often as possible before disappearing into her atelier. As often as possible tended to last until the youngest of her children were either on the way to school or otherwise not at risk of wandering into her work station and spilling their drink over her pages. Never again.

Presently, Min was sipping a cup of coffee that had the logo of Kitastrophe on it with a label on the bottom that said “MOTHER” on it. So they knew whose it was, of course. In front of her was a bowl with a bright yolked fried egg sitting on top of a nest of lightly fried tofu, a sauce made of Korean chili flakes and soup soy sauce, and rice. A skillet containing a larger portion of the dish was on the center of the table. “You don’t have to have a shake, you know.” Min said, setting her cup of coffee down on a coaster. “I made maewon dubu dalgyal jjim.” The Korean name for the dish she had prepared, spicy tofu and egg, was spoken in Min’s mother tongue for the express reason of trying to help Oli get in the habit of speaking it as well. Min might have been an American citizen now, but Korea would always be her first home. “You used to love my cooking.” Unintentionally or otherwise, Min’s words always seemed to be dipped in the pool of guilt tripping.

“그리고 당신은 요리를 하기 위해 집에 더 자주 있었죠 (And you used to be home more to cook it).” The eldest of Min’s three children replied, matching her energy, as he had learned from the very best after all. Oli held his breath, waiting to be corrected on his poor pronunciation. Grabbing a fork, he stabbed a couple of mouthfuls of the Korean dish, directly from the center skillet.

“And I still love it, it’s good. I just love when my clothes fit more.” He said through chewing, phrasing it in a way that his Momma would no doubt understand, as a fashion designer that worked with the often dysmorphic members of the modeling industry. Oli fetched some ice and sliced frozen bananas from the freezer, gathering the final ingredients to make the aforementioned shake. The blender roared for a few moments before Oliver served the contents into a mason jar swirled with just a touch of chocolate syrup to quell his sweet tooth that craved the flavor of the decadent dessert his other mother was having for breakfast. He snapped a quick pic, including an abbreviated recipe, and posted it for his followers on the socials before enjoying a healthy sip of his creation.

“You’ve been practicing? Just remember, that hard consonant at the end, it has more of a blending of J and Ch. Like you’re saying ‘Choe’. Double consonants are tricky.” Min paused for a moment, listening again in her mind to the words spoken by her son. She waited until he had finished taking his pictures - Min was aware that being ‘online’ was just…a thing for some members of this family - before reaching for Oli’s arm and holding it gently, patting the top of his hand with her fingers, almost like she was trying to console a loved one in a moment of grief.

“가능하다면 내가 집에 더 자주 올 거라는 걸 알잖아요. 난 최선을 다해 아들아 (You know I’d be home more often if I could. I do my best, son).” Min retracted her hands and went for her coffee mug again, sipping the still hot black liquid. “Will you and Jade be going to the game tonight? Will you need a ride?”

“I know, Momma, I was just fu—” Oli caught himself before fully cursing, “I was just messing with you back, that’s all. And yeah, we’re going to the game, gotta support my boys in the Elite. But I’m not gonna smoke or anything, I wanna be able to run some solo queue after, so we can just ride my bike.” He took a few large gulps, nearly downing half of his shake in one go. Working out gave him a hell of an appetite. That, and the pancake smell. “We could use a ride to the dance tomorrow though, ain’t no way I'll make it through all that sober.”

Oli’s other mom, Kit, had been happy to let her son and her wife have a conversation without her involvement. She was pretty focused on her own breakfast anyway; Min-seo had made her favorite, pancakes. Kit had probably eaten about eight so far that morning, but Min-seo had denied her when she asked for more, saying she needed to feed Oli instead. Kit knew that was a fruitless endeavor, but Min-seo tended to not listen to her, so Kit had simply shut up and poured syrup on the final short stack.

“Leave him be, ducky, geeze.” Kit used her pet name for Min to hopefully get her off of Oli’s back, though she was smart enough to make sure she finished chewing her food before talking. Min had let her get away with that in high school and even college, but these days? Kit had to be an adult, or so her wife claimed. “If Oli don’t wanna eat what you made, I’ll eat it.” She offered with a bright smile. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, and should be the most filling.

She turned her attention to her son, “I’ll give you some we— “ Kit caught herself as Oli’s younger siblings found their way into the kitchen. “Flowers for the dance and the afterparty.” No after party had been announced, but she’d been a high schooler too. So she assumed.

“I can take you to the dance. If you’re going to be out late afterwards, at least call so I don’t have to worry.” Some might have assumed Min was being a touch too overprotective but Min-seo, like her wife, had been a high schooler in America at one point. Afterparties had a tendency to go..overboard. And those were just the normal ones. “Just…be safe. I’m too young to be a grandmother.” It wouldn’t be breakfast at the Thomas household without a healthy serving of awkward.

“Momma! Oh my god,” Oliver reacted with a mortified blush, nearly choking on the last suck of his post-workout shake at the implication of accidental parenthood. He would never risk that.

Fortunately, the arrival of the younger children was like a blade cutting through the vines of awkward parental conversations. The youngest, Alice, gripped Oli’s knees in a bear hug that he rewarded by ruffling her hair. Nessie, the eleven year old with a developing preteen attitude problem, was doing her best to ignore her family because she thought she was too cool for school these days.

“At last, people who appreciate my cooking.” Min offered Oli a little teasing smile before beginning to speak in Mom Mode to the kids. She stood from the table and began setting out plates for the kids, her attention on them for the moment.

“I told you I enjoyed it!” Oli replied with an exaggerated eye roll to show that he recognized she was just teasing. He rinsed out the mason jar and blender pitcher before placing them in the dishwasher. After slinging on a leather riding jacket, he once again tapped at his phone, this time sending a text to Jade that he was on his way.

“I gotta go,” he announced, tucking the phone in his pocket before beginning the goodbye hug train. The tracks stopped at Vanessa, whose eyes blazed like she might hit him with a hellish rebuke if he hugged her. “BYE NESSIE!” Oli said in an exaggerated tone, sticking out his tongue at her before also ruffling her hair, regardless of the consequences.

Oliver left his family to continue to enjoy their morning breakfast and headed to the part of the garage that actually still functioned as such. Despite the Thomas family’s new-money wealth, the only two vehicles parked there were the family van and Oliver’s sixteenth birthday present. Oli roared the Ducati to life and secured a sleek black helmet on before taking off down the streets towards his girlfriend’s house with a loud BRRAAAPPPP. He had noticed that she hadn’t responded to any texts yet, including the semi-lewd one, which was rather uncharacteristic. She better not still be a-fucking-sleep… E-girls and their whack sleep schedules, he thought as he turned the corner to Jade’s road.

BHHS: Limitless

_{Timestamp: Before School Starts
Location: The Crawford’s House → Ms. Belmonte’s Homeroom
Main Characters: Cael Crawford @Grimoire Gaming & Philomena Ramsey @LovelyComplex
Aesthetics: Credit to @LovelyComplex}

____________________________________________________________________


____________________________________________________________________

Cael Crawford was a napper. From infancy to rambunctious childhood and all the way through an effervescent adolescence, a full night’s sleep had always eluded him. Cael got his rest in short sporadic bursts throughout the day, and night, hardly ever sleeping for longer than five hours at a time. This insomnia of sorts is especially magnified when Cael has something to look forward to upon waking, as was the case this morning. Friday — Black & Red Day — the final day of BHHS’ Homecoming Week! So, even though he and his bestie had stayed up to the wee hours of the night perfecting the recipes of their school spirit-filled confections, Cael’s eyes were open long before dawn's light crested the horizon.

After about a half hour of stifling giggles and gasps as he reacted to muted reels in bed, the clock finally read five AM — an acceptable hour for neuronormal humans to wake up! Probably. It hardly mattered either way! He and Minnie still needed to frost the red velvet cupcakes and wrap the french vanilla black & red sprinkle funfetti cake pops in cellophane to hand out to their friends and teachers all day PLUS get dressed — and they hadn’t even fully planned their outfits yet!

“Min?” Cael whispered, leaning his lavender bedhead over the edge of the blankets to peer down at his friend sleeping on the air mattress below. Unlike most of their peers Cael’s family home was modest and lacked an abundance of guest rooms, or any for that matter, so his sleepover buddies either took to the floor, or shared his twin bed like the most intimately acquainted of spoons. “Minnnnnie, are youu uppp?” he drawled out, whispering a little louder now as a curious finger sailed down to poke her cheek.

Buried under a herd of squishmallows, hugging the purple octopus, Philomena Ramsey dreamed that she and her best friend were in a haunted house, coming straight out of coffins like vampires. While the house was gothic, they were not. She didn’t even know how they got there. All she knew was when Cael rose from the dead he was swiftly on the move, ready to spread chaos and mischief, which was something he did best. Minnie found herself chasing him, getting out of breath, which never happens since she was always full of energy. Her friend was on a mission and for once, she didn’t know what that mission was.

Suddenly, he disappeared right in front of her eyes, evaporated in thin air, and she was left alone, in the scary house. She checked every nook and every cranny. She checked every room and under every bed. Cael vanished and she was growing increasingly sad without her friend. He probably found one of his FWBs or maybe he found a new toy. Whatever he found, she knew nothing about it and it made her sad. She found herself hearing his giggle and decided to follow it, going straight into the unsettling, spine-chilling basement. She would go anywhere, if she knew Cael was there.

When she got to the basement, Minnie looked around and observed her environment. This wasn’t Dracula’s manor anymore. No longer in the haunted house, she found herself at her dad’s funeral home and straight ahead there was an open coffin. She was at a funeral and she was dressed in a black, long lace dress. Those sitting in the pews were that of her classmates. She made her way down the aisle, chewing on her bottom lip and wrapping her arms around her waist, to hold onto something. Anything. Her heart was pounding the closer she got to the coffin. When she reached it, her heart dropped. There lying cold, motionless, and ‘asleep’, her best friend was dressed in his red cap and gown, no longer moving. He was gone. He promised he wouldn’t leave her but here he was gone. He promised!

Stirring awake, little tears trailing down her face, just when her alarm went off, Minnie searched in the dark until she found Cael’s head. She sat up and ran her fingers in his hair, letting her music continue to fill his room. She leaned her head forward and pressed it against his forehead, allowing her racing heart to steady. She sniffled, “I had a bad dream again.” Once again it was some distorted version of her fear of losing touch with her best friend after graduation. She had the Candies, sure, but Cael was her best friend and she knew after they graduated, things wouldn’t be the same. They’d be forced to grow up. She didn’t want to grow up. She didn’t want to lose Cael. If she had the power, she would extend senior year so it would last forever. That was Cael’s burden to carry for being Minnie’s favorite person. She was needy and the only channel she had was him.

The pastel prince of Candyland smiled lazily down at Minnie as she ran her fingers through his purple locks. Whether it be romantic or otherwise, Cael loved the feeling of having his hair touched and played with, a fact his bestie knew full well. It brought them both comfort in quiet moments like this. From the outside looking in, one might think them a perfectly happy couple, and at one point they were, and would probably still be if not for the sexual incompatibility. But the real truth was this is what a close friendship with Cael looked like — his love overflowed without restraint, he flirted with, doted upon, snuggled, and even sometimes kissed the majority of his favorite people, because they deserved to feel good. To feel loved. That’s what being a Candy meant to him.

“You wanna talk about it, Minty?” The usual mischief in his mismatched gaze was replaced by a warm, genuine concern about her nightmares. He tucked a lock of pale pink bed-mussed hair behind her ear and smirked, a hint of naughtiness returning to his expression. “Orrr,” his voice dropped to a devious whisper, “...we could go eat cake for breakfast!”

“Or both!” Cael chirped happily, jumping out of bed with way more energy than a teenager had any right to be well before six AM. “I hope the white chocolate on the cake pops set okay in the fridge overnight with all the red coloring we added…”

The sadness was buried when the pace changed from nightmares to sweet dreams. Minnie scurried up, bringing an armful of plushies with her like she was a muscle woman. Narrowing her eyes at her opponent, she impishly smirked. Cake for breakfast? Her mom would have a heart attack. CLEARLY, she had to indulge! What were daughters for? To give their parents grief! There was a spark in her eyes and then it happened. She attacked, smooshy-smooshes straight to the face. “Take that, and that!” She called out each move, putting some umph in each throw.

She had the powah!

Suddenly, her smirk turned into a grin. It was time to bring out the big guns. As fast as lightning, or really as fast as an athletic, hyperactive teenage girl with ADHD, Minnie threw the rest of the creatures onto her best friend, overwhelming him with cuteness, before squealing in liveliness, fully awake, “Last one downstairs has to do a dare!” This was tradition. Randomly, no matter what time or day, what place they were at or what mood they were in, whether or not they were in class or at home, they could challenge each other with WHATEVER. Whoever wins gets to dare the other. Of course, this was all for funsies.

What were friends for if not to push you out of your comfort zone? What were friends for if they failed to help you not let your dreams just be dreams? What were friends for if they didn’t know how to have fun? As Spongebob sang: F was for friends who did stuff together. U was for you and me. N is for anywhere and anytime at all. Down here in the deep blue sea! It was as if Philomena was no longer haunted by her fear of losing her friend and ever present, in the moment, matching his infectious vigor. Her mood was already shifting or at least she was putting the bad thoughts in the back, back, double back burner and will only worry about it if Cael actively pressed on about it. Right now though? They were both distracted.

With her cute PJs on, the dancing princess did a near ballet leap to get over the clutter and giggled, “You’re too slow”. Rushing, she threw the door open and raced down the hall to get to the stairs. This wasn’t just a race though. Both Minnie and Cael were about FLAIR and being DUMB. Humming Lazy Town ‘Cooking By the Book’, which she had sung all night while they made cupcakes, she leaped over the railing and gracefully landed on the stairs, having done this plenty of times before.

“AM NOT!” The pastel pixie yelled out after her fleeing form. His dancer feet nimbly prancing between the landmines of squishmallows, blanket piles, and scattered pillows now littered throughout his room. Cael chucked a few of the mini squishies after her, eliciting a peel of giggles from the stairwell. Philomena might know the lay of the land well from their countless sleepovers, but not as well as Cael knew his own home.

While Minnie had leapt over the side railing in an attempt to gain further advantage, Cael bravely chose the upper rail. It had been restored by his master carpenter father’s own hands two years prior, which meant it was nearly as strong as the foundation of the house itself. The lavender-haired boy leapt to perch on top of it, gripped the rail, and then recklessly swung himself underneath and forward, skipping the stairs entirely.

Having never made the jump before, he overestimated the amount of force needed to swing himself past the stairs, and instead flew straight into the opposite wall of the hallway downstairs. “Shit!” he hissed as the wind knocked out of him. He barely managed to slap his hands against two picture frames to prevent them from falling, but a third — an embarrassing baby photo of his — went crashing down to the wood floor below. Shattered glass scattered across the hall that led to his parents’ bedroom.

“CAEL LEE CRAWFORD!” His mother’s voice bellowed as the door flew open, revealing a tired woman wearing slippers and a powder pink house robe. Her scowl lessened only slightly when Minnie cautiously peeked around the corner of the stairwell. “WHY are you two destroying the house at 5:07 AM?!”

“SORRY MOM!” Cael peeped, still holding the two other photos in place against the wall. “It was my fault! I’ll clean it, promise!”

“You better, and keep it down, I still have another forty minutes to sleep. And do NOT leave the kitchen a mess. Again. Please.” With that final request, she closed the door and prayed the teenagers had some measure of mercy on a weary middle school health teacher.

“I sowwie…” Minnie whispered, with her indoor voice, as she joined her best friend by the wall and the lady of the house disappeared into her bedroom. Apologizing here became a common thing because the hyperactive squirrels couldn’t help themselves. They had too much energy that not even their parents knew how to contain. Regardless of the amount of times they got scolded, grounded or disciplined, they never seemed to learn and their punishments weren’t ever that bad. That’s why the pastel pixie pair got away with murder. They were menaces. Well, they both were neurodivergent too… still, they were so hyper that kids on sugar highs, bouncing off the walls, seem mild in comparison. It was honestly a feat their friends enjoyed their presence and didn’t get too drained.

^{“I WIN!”} Cael whispered in quiet victory over his bestie. “Dare’s on hold till we get this cleaned up. I’ll get a broom, can you pull out the cake pops and get everything set up for us?”

Saluting to her charge, Minnie grinned, “Yes sir!” Her eyes widened when she realized she raised her voice too damn high. “Oopsie. I mean: sir, yes, sir.” She immediately apologized, lowering the octave. She could be quiet. How hard could it be? Quiet was in her blood! Or well she was forced to be silent a lot of times when her dad needed her help at funerals. If she wasn’t crying loudly then she had to hush and be respectful to the grieving family and the dead. That’s just how sad etiquette worked.

Going to the fridge, she opened it and went to grab the cake pops, chilled on a large lined baking sheet and already frosted. It was time to wrap them up and make the frosting for the cupcakes. As she set up the island with the ingredients for the frosting, the cake pops, the cellophane, the cute ribbons to secure the pops, and the silver aluminum foil pans to help with delivery, she backtracked and finally explained her nightmare, “You died. In my dream. Or you were already dead, like a vampire. It made me really sad.” She sniffled a little at just the thought. It was too early in the morning to think about losing her best friend. “It’s our last year together and I think that really scares me.”

“A vampire?” Cael inquired curiously as he dumped the dustpan of broken glass into the trash. “Was I hot? Sparkly??” He washed his hands and sided up to his best friend in the whole state of California. His face was once again nothing but warmth and love as he spoke. “I know you’re worried, but I’m not going anywhere, Minty, honest!” Cael started adding the frosting ingredients into a mixing bowl as he spoke.

“I’ll be going to college nearby, and I don’t have any big, grandiose, globe-trotting dreams or anything… I mean, honestly, what other city in the world would suit me besides Beverly Hills? Do you think I’m gonna go crawling back to fuckin Ohio after tasting all that the sunshine state has to offer? No ma’am!!” The cream cheese frosting blended together, probably making far too much noise than his mother would like, but at least this activity was pre-planned and vetted by the Crawford matriarch the day before. He removed one of the mixing beaters and licked it to test the flavor, having approved of it, he gathered a dollop of frosting from the other side with his finger.

“Then I’m probs just gonna open up a cute lil bakery, and maybe you can work there too, and we’ll both find cute boys to smooch on, and we’ll be best friends forever!” Cael swiped the glob of frosting on her nose with a giggle. “So, the only thing you should be worried about is the fact that you’re STUCK with me!”

He was rewarded with a sweet like cake smile and she gave a faux, shooketh gasp when he booped her nose with frosting, “Oh no you didn’t!” Intrusive thought taking over, she grabbed the mixing spoon and slid it down Cael’s face, frosting and all. It wasn’t until she saw the mess she made that she realized what she did and giggled in both happiness and embarrassment. She blushed, taking a couple of steps back, “Sorry, sorry, sorry! I couldn’t help myself. I just saw all the frosting and I was like what if I just covered your whole face. You started it anyways.” She tried to defend her childish behavior. “It isn’t like I’ll find anyone! So, Cael, you really are stuck with me five-ever.”

“Min-NIE!!” Cael shrieked the latter half of her name shrilly as he wiped at the frosting smeared all down his cheek. He brought the beater he was holding to the sink where he began to wash the frosting off himself as well. “If this gives me pimples, I swear I’m going to bite you with my big, SCARY vampire teeth!” He turned with a snapping chomp of his perfectly squared, non-vampire teeth for emphasis.

Minnie avoided eye contact when he threatened to bite her. It wasn’t like he hadn’t bitten her before. She kind of liked it. Bites were nice. But! She needed to focus. One thing she wasn’t going to do was talk about plans for her future because the reality was all Minnie wanted to do was dance and maybe one day create choreography for celebs. You don’t need a degree to dance. All she needed was experience, which she already had. She’s been dancing her whole life. Her mom, however, wanted her to go to college. Applications needed to be completed by early winter unless you were one of those crazy nerds that did an early decision application. She had no idea what college she wanted to go to because she didn’t want to go to college. She wondered if she told her parents, would they ship her off to her homeland? Hoping her culture would set her right? Or was she just a nervous wreck and overthinking everything and she could pursue what makes her happy? No matter. This wasn’t the time to think about her future. Today was the GAME and the PEP RALLY! They needed to practice their cheer and dance routine during lunch. There was so little time and they had to be perfect and sparkle.

“MAYBE.” She had an epiphany. Her mind was going too fast for this conversation. Not realizing everything she was saying was coming out as one run on sentence and for anyone else it would be hard to keep up but Cael was used to his friend. They were SOULMATES after all. “We should be SPARKLY VAMPIRES for Halloween.”

“OMG living out our Twilight fantasy, YASS, QUEEN!! But first, we need to focus on our outfits. Well… second first, I guess. First first is finishing up these goodies for our friends, and then getting dressed.” A few moments later, Cael’s mother once again appeared. Instead of a scolding that would no doubt be as ineffective as the rest, she sleepily shuffled past the squealing teens and went straight for the coffee pot. Raising a child with ADHD hardly held a candle to teaching middle schoolers about the birds and the bees… she had a long day ahead of her.

The hyperactive besties continued to chatter as they finished up their confectionery project, volume levels now fully unrestricted since Cael’s mom was awake and his father was out of town on business. Once the finishing touches were completed, the pair sprinted back upstairs to spend the next half hour meticulously planning their perfectly coordinated red and black outfits and getting ready for the day. Cael’s outfit most notably included spraying his lavender locks with bright red temporary hair color to further match the day’s theme. It would probably wear off throughout the day, so he made sure to stash the bottle in his backpack for any necessary touch ups.

Cael carefully loaded the trays of cupcakes and cake pops into the back seat of his green punch buggy before hopping into the driver’s side. Minnie sat beside him in the passenger’s seat that was set exactly to her most comfortable settings. It was her daily seat on the way to school, after all. “So… we’ve managed to get everything done perfectly and we’re only running like…” He glanced at the car’s clock and winced. “Ten minutes late, yikes. Anyway! There’s only two of us and like hundreds of classmates, so what’s the plan for not getting bum rushed by the masses? I want to make sure the people we know and like get first dibs on the goods!”

“Hmmmmmmmmmm,” Minnie got herself situated as a passenger princess and pulled out her phone. “I could use my handy dandy phone and tell them to meet us… after homeroom? Maybe we should keep the treats in…” Not the car, that would be too hot. Not in the cafeteria, because everyone would fight to get the goodies. Not in their lockers, they were too small. Maybe they should put the cupcakes and cake pops in… “The nurse’s office! She’s usually super nice and if we asked, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind storing some aside for our friends. Then we can deliver the rest to whoever throughout the day but our friends will have their goodies in her office. I think that is the best plan. What do you think?”

“Hmmmm,” Cael unintentionally mimicked her. “I dunno, kinda weird to get cupcakes from the place you go when you’re sick, isn’t it? Fuck it, just text Mo to meet us in Ms. Belmonte’s room. We’ll bring them all to homeroom, Stella is probably already there, so we can make sure she gets one too.” The plans were finalized as the pair made their way down the streets to BHHS. After tucking his car into a spot in the section of the senior lot where people with perfectly average, non-gearhead cars parked, Cael and Minnie went about executing their plans.

Homeroom was suspiciously empty for them having arrived ten minutes after the first bell. Before the young, exasperated teacher could give them a proper tongue-lashing, Cael offered her the first choice from their school spirited treats.

“Sorry Ms. B! The finishing touches took a little longer than expected, but we really wanted to show our Pirate Pride and sweeten up everyone’s friday!” Cael apologized with a glittering smile that only the devil incarnate could truly get mad at, and Ms. Belmonte was the furthest thing from diabolic. Cael then took to his usual seat, the tray of cupcakes on the desk for his peers to come and have a taste. He leaned over to whisper to Minnie once she sat down beside him with the cake pops on her desk.

“Don’t think I forgot about the dare I won, by the way.” he cooed, wearing a candilicious smirk that dripped with his trademarked fae-like meddling. “I dare you, Miss Philomena Ramsey, to ask someone — that is not me — to be your date to the homecoming dance tomorrow.” His shit-eating grin was cut short only by the desire to finally try his own delicacy, nomming into a big bite of cupcake for breakfast.

BHHS: Limitless

Oli Thomas

_{OLIVER YE-JUN THOMAS}

18 • MALE • FEMMESEXUAL • HE/HIM • ♡DUO'D♡

(FC: Bobby [Kim Ji-won]; Dialogue: 009485)

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Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

Oli is a hardcore gamer with his primary focus being League of Legends, as a jungle main. His dreams have always been set on going pro, but most of his success thus far has been in content creation (follower count ~25k on Twitch, ~80k on TikTok). Oli is a notable face in the halls of BHHS – effortlessly popular just for doing the things that he loves: gaming and working out. He doesn’t need to go to all the parties, or be a sports captain, nor a class officer, nor be involved in the messy web of gossip that is the high school social ladder in order to thrive. He’s got a nice voice, his momma’s fashion sense, a body that makes the thirst trap TikToks pop off, and a challenger ranking in League. It’s all skill, baby.

► current dilemma

Oliver’s biggest personal dilemma is that he’s facing the reality of having probably missed his shot at getting scouted by a pro esports team. Many players who find major success start pretty young, much like athletes going for the olympics, and at 18, Oli feels like he’s already aging out. This could of course just all be in his head, but bad mental has always negatively impacted his game. He applied and got accepted to UCLA where he plans to study a variety of design, editing, and photography classes in order to make the best of his growing career as a content creator and influencer, yet he can’t shake the feeling that he’s accepted defeat in doing so.

Another lesser, but ever-present dilemma that Oliver faces is an inability to keep a romantic partner for long. His good looks make it easy to get dates and start relationships, but once things get comfortable, his partners often find that his dedication to his hobbies and work make him rather negligent in the romance department. He’s going to try to get better at being more social and outgoing in senior year.

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

OliCritz on League, Twitch, and Discord
OliCritzTTV on Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram

► style

Oliver is incredibly fashionable. Lots of strappy belts, mostly black attire, all designer labels. He follows many trends seen among kpop stars, with cuts meant to show off his physique while also being comfortable enough to chill out and game in. He has a fondness for oversized graphic tees that look like they could be from a thrift store but more likely have cost hundreds of dollars at a designer boutique. His style and interest in fashion is rooted in being raised by his fashion designer mother.

► ride & everyday items

Oli's ride is a shiny black Ducati monster with OL1CRTZ plates, which pales in comparison to his truly beloved everyday item: a custom loop liquid cooled gaming rig fitted with the latest 4090 graphics card.

► occupation

League of Legends Twitch Streamer & TikTok Thirst Trapper

► extracurricular activities

Oliver is not part of any school sports or clubs. Most of his free time is spent playing league, working out, creating content for Twitch and Tiktok, with a minimal amount reserved for casual gaming with friends and other social activities (much to his exes dismay).

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

Haha, probably ‘not around enough’ and ‘super competitive’. I take gaming a lot more seriously than most of my friends. I should probably make more time to hang out with them and do casual stuff…

In my free time I like to _______.

Play league, work out, make content. Sleep… if I can find the time.

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

I’m going to try to pick up photography, get a head start before college. I’m also going to try to loosen up and … ‘enjoy my high school experience’ a little more, or whatever. My moms don’t think I’m social enough, so I gotta prove ‘em wrong, ya know? Oh! And practice speaking korean more, my accent is fucking embarrassing, bro.

This is how I define success and failure:

Success is when I make goals, work hard, and achieve them. Failure is when I let my laziness rob me of my best.

I'm inspired by _______.

My momma, Min-seo. She’s first gen korean american and basically built her fashion empire out of nothing but her passion and sheer force of will. As an immigrant, an esl one especially, and hell…. being a queer woman too, she had a lot more hoops to jump through to find success, and she did it all with style and grace. So, hell yeah, I’m a momma’s boy — the fuck you got to say about it? I got two moms, it was bound to happen!

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

RISE — The Glitch Mob, Mako, The Word Alive
Legends Never Die — Against the Current
GODS — New Jeans

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

Uh… probably when I found out I was going to be a big brother. I love my little sisters, they’re super cute and this house was kinda way too big and lonely before they were around, especially when momma was traveling for work.

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

Start playing sooner, work harder, apply yourself more… Don’t let your anxiety get in the way of opportunities. In other words: get good, kid.

The things that make me smile are _______.

Small animals, like puppies and kittens, pretty girls, pretty boys, my little sisters, shopping, streaming, funny memes. A lot makes me smile really, I like to think I’m a pretty happy dude.

My whole life story in one sentence:

Wannabe pro eboy that should probably leave his house and touch some grass.

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► extra information

Oliver’s second name is his Korean name, rather than a traditional middle one. Ye-Jun.
Oli has two little sisters, Vanessa “Nessie” and Alice, who are in middle and late elementary school, respectively.
Font: Brand - Android (Fontmeme: Famous)

Cael Crawford

_{CAEL LEE CRAWFORD}

18 • MALE • GAY • HE/HIM • FOREVER FLIRTING

^{(FC: Awsten Knight; Dialogue: 676FA5)}

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Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

Cael was a transfer student, though you’d never know he was once 'the new kid’ from how much he’s flourished since leaving that sleepy Ohio town in middle school. His vibrant aesthetic, cheeky grin, and infectious laugh light up any room he enters, and he happily devours the attention it grants him. Being serial flirt and meddling gossip are just two of the traits that landed Cael among the thespian crowd. That, and the fact that his unbridled ADHD led him to dive into countless hobbies, crafts, clubs, and sports growing up, abandoning nearly all of them save for dance. Cael shines the most on stage, even if he isn’t a lead, he’s there for the dancing, singing, friendship, and glamor. You know... the vibes.

► current dilemma

Cael has absolutely no idea what he’s going to do with the rest of his life after high school. He got accepted into a local community college where he plans to study liberal arts and various electives until something grabs his attention and holds it… hopefully. It’s truly a terrifying prospect to think about… adulthood.

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

caelchiips on Twitter and Discord
PrincePixyStix on Instagram and TikTok

► style

Pastel colors, loud prints, cozy sweaters, black skinnies, floral designs, patterned tank tops, punk boots, quirky rings and necklaces. Cael’s sense of fashion is a little all over the map, yet it is undeniably fashionable. He wears what he wants when he wants, and he boldly owns his flamboyant style choices. His touchably soft, shaggy hair has been chemically altered since basically forever (a.k.a. early middle school). Cael’s locks are bleached to a pale blonde color that he often temporarily dyes himself to appear any number of pastel shades. Mint green, powder blue, and soft lavender appear to be his favorites, which he frequently switches between to suit his ever-shifting moods. Currently, his hair is a light lavender purple.

► ride & everyday items

Cael drives an older, used cyber green VW bug. As for any other everyday items, his phone is always glued to his hand.

► occupation

Part-time ice cream scooper at Creamistry.

► extracurricular activities

Cael has a bad habit of signing up for anything that sounds like fun, often doublebooking and overcommitting himself. His primary hobby is dance, with a preference for ballet and hip hop. He is most actively a part of drama club and participates in all productions in some fashion or another, but he also has worked with the dance committee, yearbook, home ec, the LGBT+ Alliance, and cheerleading over the years.

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

A LOT, hahaha. Oh man, uh, energetic, chaotic, pixie, gremlin, talkative, flirty, maybe a bit annoying at times. Oops! I’m the life of the party and they know it!

In my free time I like to _______.

Gosh, there isn’t enough time in the day to do all of the things that I want to do… I have a tendency to pick up a lot of hobbies only to abandon them for the next flavor of the month… or week, heh… Dancing has always stuck with me, but I also like doing arts and crafts, going to parties, spending time with friends, window shopping (and real shopping if I can afford it), working on stuff for drama club, lots of stuff!

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

My current hyperfixation is trying to get good at baking. I’m pretty decent, but if I want to get really good, like maybe owning my own bakery one day kind of good, I need to keep practicing. Want a cupcake?

This is how I define success and failure:

Success is being able to end the day with a smile on your face and failure is… well, the opposite of that!

I'm inspired by _______.

My friends, I guess! I don’t really have role models, I like to live life my own way, but I often pick up the mannerisms and habits of the people that I surround myself with if I like them enough.

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

DREAM BOY — Waterparks
Royal — Waterparks
No Capes — Waterparks

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

Ha, growing up in Ohio I had this best friend who lived down the street, I mean she’s still one of my besties, but Kitty and I would play outside a lot together and go on fantasy adventures. We both had big imaginations and like… an innocence that I kind of wish I never lost. Kitty insists that those faeries we met were real to this day and well, who knows, maybe she’s right!

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

Live life loud and don't try so hard to be something you’re not—do NOT sleep with Minnie, you are, in fact, very gay, and she deserves a better first time. Oh my gods, that memory will haunt me to my grave.

The things that make me smile are _______.

Colorful things, cute things, hanging out with my friends, dancing, partying, sugary sweets, Facetimes with Kitty, and boys. Gods, I love boys, especially kissing them and sleepy cuddle times.

My whole life story in one sentence:

The poster child for ADHD who grew up to be your manic pixie dream boy.

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► extra information

Recently obtained a fake ID with the intent to go clubbing, as a nightlife of dancing and grinding while covered in glitter and sequins seems like the best place for Cael to bloom.

Cael has heterochromia — both of his eyes have underlying grey tones, but his right is greenish while his left is more blue.

Font: Font meme > Art Deco > Minstrel (style-dynmaite)

^{Credit to @LovelyComplex for the aesthetics!}

BHHS: Limitless

^{Credit to @LovelyComplex for the aesthetics!}

Cael Crawford

_{CAEL LEE CRAWFORD}

18 • MALE • GAY • HE/HIM • FOREVER FLIRTING

^{(FC: Awsten Knight; Dialogue: 676FA5)}

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Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

Cael was a transfer student, though you’d never know he was once 'the new kid’ from how much he’s flourished since leaving that sleepy Ohio town in middle school. His vibrant aesthetic, cheeky grin, and infectious laugh light up any room he enters, and he happily devours the attention it grants him. Being serial flirt and meddling gossip are just two of the traits that landed Cael among the thespian crowd. That, and the fact that his unbridled ADHD led him to dive into countless hobbies, crafts, clubs, and sports growing up, abandoning nearly all of them save for dance. Cael shines the most on stage, even if he isn’t a lead, he’s there for the dancing, singing, friendship, and glamor. You know... the vibes.

► current dilemma

Cael has absolutely no idea what he’s going to do with the rest of his life after high school. He got accepted into a local community college where he plans to study liberal arts and various electives until something grabs his attention and holds it… hopefully. It’s truly a terrifying prospect to think about… adulthood.

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

caelchiips on Twitter and Discord
PrincePixyStix on Instagram and TikTok

► style

Pastel colors, loud prints, cozy sweaters, black skinnies, floral designs, patterned tank tops, punk boots, quirky rings and necklaces. Cael’s sense of fashion is a little all over the map, yet it is undeniably fashionable. He wears what he wants when he wants, and he boldly owns his flamboyant style choices. His touchably soft, shaggy hair has been chemically altered since basically forever (a.k.a. early middle school). Cael’s locks are bleached to a pale blonde color that he often temporarily dyes himself to appear any number of pastel shades. Mint green, powder blue, and soft lavender appear to be his favorites, which he frequently switches between to suit his ever-shifting moods. Currently, his hair is a light lavender purple.

► ride & everyday items

Cael drives an older, used cyber green VW bug. As for any other everyday items, his phone is always glued to his hand.

► occupation

Part-time ice cream scooper at Creamistry.

► extracurricular activities

Cael has a bad habit of signing up for anything that sounds like fun, often doublebooking and overcommitting himself. His primary hobby is dance, with a preference for ballet and hip hop. He is most actively a part of drama club and participates in all productions in some fashion or another, but he also has worked with the dance committee, yearbook, home ec, the LGBT+ Alliance, and cheerleading over the years.

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

A LOT, hahaha. Oh man, uh, energetic, chaotic, pixie, gremlin, talkative, flirty, maybe a bit annoying at times. Oops! I’m the life of the party and they know it!

In my free time I like to _______.

Gosh, there isn’t enough time in the day to do all of the things that I want to do… I have a tendency to pick up a lot of hobbies only to abandon them for the next flavor of the month… or week, heh… Dancing has always stuck with me, but I also like doing arts and crafts, going to parties, spending time with friends, window shopping (and real shopping if I can afford it), working on stuff for drama club, lots of stuff!

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

My current hyperfixation is trying to get good at baking. I’m pretty decent, but if I want to get really good, like maybe owning my own bakery one day kind of good, I need to keep practicing. Want a cupcake?

This is how I define success and failure:

Success is being able to end the day with a smile on your face and failure is… well, the opposite of that!

I'm inspired by _______.

My friends, I guess! I don’t really have role models, I like to live life my own way, but I often pick up the mannerisms and habits of the people that I surround myself with if I like them enough.

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

DREAM BOY — Waterparks
Royal — Waterparks
No Capes — Waterparks

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

Ha, growing up in Ohio I had this best friend who lived down the street, I mean she’s still one of my besties, but Kitty and I would play outside a lot together and go on fantasy adventures. We both had big imaginations and like… an innocence that I kind of wish I never lost. Kitty insists that those faeries we met were real to this day and well, who knows, maybe she’s right!

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

Live life loud and don't try so hard to be something you’re not—do NOT sleep with Minnie, you are, in fact, very gay, and she deserves a better first time. Oh my gods, that memory will haunt me to my grave.

The things that make me smile are _______.

Colorful things, cute things, hanging out with my friends, dancing, partying, sugary sweets, Facetimes with Kitty, and boys. Gods, I love boys, especially kissing them and sleepy cuddle times.

My whole life story in one sentence:

The poster child for ADHD who grew up to be your manic pixie dream boy.

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► extra information

Recently obtained a fake ID with the intent to go clubbing, as a nightlife of dancing and grinding while covered in glitter and sequins seems like the best place for Cael to bloom.

Cael has heterochromia — both of his eyes have underlying grey tones, but his right is greenish while his left is more blue.

Font: Font meme > Art Deco > Minstrel (style-dynmaite)

BHHS: Limitless

Oh... we're so fucking back, baby.

^{Credit to @LovelyComplex for the aesthetics!}

Oli Thomas

_{OLIVER YE-JUN THOMAS}

18 • MALE • FEMMESEXUAL • HE/HIM • SINGLE

(FC: Bobby [Kim Ji-won]; Dialogue: 009485)

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Ｉｎｔｒｏ

► reputation

Oli is a hardcore gamer with his primary focus being League of Legends, as a jungle main. His dreams have always been set on going pro, but most of his success thus far has been in content creation (follower count ~25k on Twitch, ~80k on TikTok). Oli is a notable face in the halls of BHHS – effortlessly popular just for doing the things that he loves: gaming and working out. He doesn’t need to go to all the parties, or be a sports captain, nor a class officer, nor be involved in the messy web of gossip that is the high school social ladder in order to thrive. He’s got a nice voice, his momma’s fashion sense, a body that makes the thirst trap TikToks pop off, and a challenger ranking in League. It’s all skill, baby.

► current dilemma

Oliver’s biggest personal dilemma is that he’s facing the reality of having probably missed his shot at getting scouted by a pro esports team. Many players who find major success start pretty young, much like athletes going for the olympics, and at 18, Oli feels like he’s already aging out. This could of course just all be in his head, but bad mental has always negatively impacted his game. He applied and got accepted to UCLA where he plans to study a variety of design, editing, and photography classes in order to make the best of his growing career as a content creator and influencer, yet he can’t shake the feeling that he’s accepted defeat in doing so.

Another lesser, but ever-present dilemma that Oliver faces is an inability to keep a romantic partner for long. His good looks make it easy to get dates and start relationships, but once things get comfortable, his partners often find that his dedication to his hobbies and work make him rather negligent in the romance department. He’s going to try to get better at being more social and outgoing in senior year.

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Ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

► social media handles

OliCritz on League, Twitch, and Discord
OliCritzTTV on Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram

► style

Oliver is incredibly fashionable. Lots of strappy belts, mostly black attire, all designer labels. He follows many trends seen among kpop stars, with cuts meant to show off his physique while also being comfortable enough to chill out and game in. He has a fondness for oversized graphic tees that look like they could be from a thrift store but more likely have cost hundreds of dollars at a designer boutique. His style and interest in fashion is rooted in being raised by his fashion designer mother.

► ride & everyday items

Oli's ride is a shiny black Ducati monster with OL1CRTZ plates, which pales in comparison to his truly beloved everyday item: a custom loop liquid cooled gaming rig fitted with the latest 4090 graphics card.

► occupation

League of Legends Twitch Streamer & TikTok Thirst Trapper

► extracurricular activities

Oliver is not part of any school sports or clubs. Most of his free time is spent playing league, working out, creating content for Twitch and Tiktok, with a minimal amount reserved for casual gaming with friends and other social activities (much to his exes dismay).

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Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｎａｉｒｅ

Friends would describe me as _______.

Haha, probably ‘not around enough’ and ‘super competitive’. I take gaming a lot more seriously than most of my friends. I should probably make more time to hang out with them and do casual stuff…

In my free time I like to _______.

Play league, work out, make content. Sleep… if I can find the time.

I would like to learn _______ in the next year.

I’m going to try to pick up photography, get a head start before college. I’m also going to try to loosen up and … ‘enjoy my high school experience’ a little more, or whatever. My moms don’t think I’m social enough, so I gotta prove ‘em wrong, ya know? Oh! And practice speaking korean more, my accent is fucking embarrassing, bro.

This is how I define success and failure:

Success is when I make goals, work hard, and achieve them. Failure is when I let my laziness rob me of my best.

I'm inspired by _______.

My momma, Min-seo. She’s first gen korean american and basically built her fashion empire out of nothing but her passion and sheer force of will. As an immigrant, an esl one especially, and hell…. being a queer woman too, she had a lot more hoops to jump through to find success, and she did it all with style and grace. So, hell yeah, I’m a momma’s boy — the fuck you got to say about it? I got two moms, it was bound to happen!

These songs are the soundtrack to my life:

RISE — The Glitch Mob, Mako, The Word Alive
Legends Never Die — Against the Current
GODS — New Jeans

My fondest memory as a child was _______.

Uh… probably when I found out I was going to be a big brother. I love my little sisters, they’re super cute and this house was kinda way too big and lonely before they were around, especially when momma was traveling for work.

If I could tell my younger self something, I would say:

Start playing sooner, work harder, apply yourself more… Don’t let your anxiety get in the way of opportunities. In other words: get good, kid.

The things that make me smile are _______.

Small animals, like puppies and kittens, pretty girls, pretty boys, my little sisters, shopping, streaming, funny memes. A lot makes me smile really, I like to think I’m a pretty happy dude.

My whole life story in one sentence:

Wannabe pro eboy that should probably leave his house and touch some grass.

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► extra information

Oliver’s second name is his Korean name, rather than a traditional middle one. Ye-Jun.
Oli has two little sisters, Vanessa “Nessie” and Alice, who are in middle and late elementary school, respectively.
Font: Brand - Android (Fontmeme: Famous)

Beverly Hills: Limitless

have no fear, my fellow queer, my rear is also here

ʜᴀᴡᴛʜᴏʀɴᴇ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍʏ

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^{Location: The Hall → Nightshade Commons
Mentions: Charlie @Danvers & Teddy @smarty0114}
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Niklaus listened to the headmaster drone on through his welcome speech with more than mild disinterest. There was a far more intimidating and infuriating presence in the assembly hall that was capturing his attention — the Seekers. Any would-be reassuring messages of safety were promptly quashed by their attendance. They were the Academies enforcers, those that would hunt down any supernaturals who dared to think differently from what the mystical tyrants lording over the Academies declared as moral. Niklaus was far from safe in their presence — were his diet choices and ambitions to be found out, he’d be on their hit list rather than under their protection.

Before the headmaster could finish well wishes of luck for the year, Niko was out of his seat and making his way to the exit. Since his luggage had been valeted away by the academy staff upon arrival, he was just as eager to check out the quality of his new lodgings as he was to be away from the Seekers. He quickly found his name on the dormitory list and was briefly caught off guard by the hall he wasn’t listed under — Hemlock Hall — it’s name a painful reminder of the Academy he should be attending for his third year, and he was grateful to not have been assigned to that dorm.

Niko followed the temporary signage likely posted for the first years and rare transfer students such as himself towards Nightshade Commons. As if the cliche name wasn’t cringey enough, the overtly gothic style of the winding tower was enough to set Niko’s eyes rolling. He hoped that European architecture was more to blame than the stereotypical thinking that all vampires lived in dark, foreboding castles filled with black candles and pipe organs.

The youngest Tepes was a new-age vampire accustomed to city living, modern estates, penthouses, and state of the art technology. So far Hawthorne felt like time traveling back to the dark ages, especially upon arriving within the dorm itself. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Niklaus remaked in shock as he took in the sight of the shared sleeping quarters, separated only by school year and gender. Bunk beds — as if they were students at some tax-funded public university rather than a prestigious magical academy. Eager to share in the disgust and outrage of his situation, Niko pulled out his cellphone to snap a photo of it.

To: Nia
can you believe this shit? fucking bunk beds

Niko was about to send a follow up text joking about it being akin to a poor orphanage when he realized that the previous message hadn’t sent. The wheel spun before returning a ’failed to send’ notice. Niko clicked his tongue and huffed before trying to resend it, this time holding the phone up high above his head. Gods help them if this archaic prison didn’t have cell service and wifi… After a few failed attempts, Niko grumbled curses and scrolled up in the chat history with his sister. He saw a message that he’d missed earlier — her reply to his announcement that he’d arrived safely at the Academy.

From: Nia
Be bold, Niko.

Kasania always used full punctuation in texts because, as young as she might look and act, she had lived over a century before Niko was even born. The formality wasn’t what shook him, it was her words, which she often repeated to him in times of distress — the very same she had spoken the day that their father announced his plans to temporarily disown his children so that they might learn from failure and achieve their own successes. All for the greater good of his legacy, but that much went unspoken. The announcement had come without any warning, and in a meeting room full of their peers — fellow esteemed, pureblood families that ruled over New York City, both friend and foe alike, as it was oftentimes difficult to tell the difference among their kind. Never had the rug been so violently pulled from beneath Niko’s feet, and Kasania had sensed his spiraling downfall in that moment.

“Niklaus, look at me.” she had said, holding his face in her hands, ever the master of gentle commands.
“You remember the words I always said to you as a boy, yes? Live boldly, Niko.
You are the son of a king and a keeper of loyal friends.
Luck has it you were blessed with an amazing sister too.
We will be just fine.
Now, stand tall, they are all watching how the children of their King react to the news.
Dogs smell fear, and the Tepes fear no one.”

Niko closed his eyes with a sigh, attempting to push the memory away. Momentarily free from the past, he opened his eyes once more and checked to see if he’d missed any other notifications. As though merely thinking of the devil could summon him, there were three unread messages from his father. Reluctantly, Niko opened them.

From: Dmitri
No more distractions.
Study hard, Niklaus.
Do not disappoint me.

His breath caught in his throat, reading the words thrice over. The finality. The expectation. The threat. The Tepes fear no one… except for themselves, of course. Niko closed the texts and realized for the first time that it wasn’t that there were no bars of service on his phone, they were crossed out entirely. No more distractions. He’d been cut off not just financially, but socially. From every bit of support he’d ever known. From Kasania.

Niklaus’ rage was sudden and all-consuming, his grip tightening around the device that had triggered it. Once the blood red filter over his vision subsided, Niko looked down to find the useless phone was nothing more than a chunk of crumpled metal and shattered glass in his palm. He aggressively chucked the remains of it into the trash bin and paced the room, attempting to calm his emotions as other students began filtering into the dorm.

He needed further distraction than the din of excited strangers catching up with each other provided. He needed to do something with his hands. Thinking that folding and putting his clothes away might prove somewhat therapeutic, Niko sought out his luggage. He found his carry-on bag near the foot of a bed, but his larger suitcase was missing. After thoroughly checking the third year room, Niko ventured out into the shared lounge and other sleeping areas to investigate.

Niko’s search ended promptly in the fifth year room. Two brown-haired boys seemed to be bickering, one holding a pair of black and gold Versace boxer briefs that looked just like his between pinched fingers. There was a pile of sopping wet clothing near an open window along with a couple of soggy suitcases, including his own that was distinctly marked with a luggage tag. Stepping forward, Niklaus once again saw red as he snatched his underwear away from one of the offending parties.

“Which one of you did this?” he growled, his eyes bouncing between them. “Is this some form of newbie hazing? Because I assure you that I am not some meak first year nor will I be an easy target for your pranks. Explain yourself, immediately.” Behind the obvious anger there was an unmistakable air of superiority. The youngest Tepes prince was not used to being disrespected and he’d far surpassed his threshold of frustrations for the day.