Grimoire Gaming

CANCELLED.

^{Collab ends with them at the snack station.}

---

---

^{Collab with @Lovely Complex}

There were so many donuts, dude. This was actually the best day of his life, Rafael was sure of it. Delicious glazed rings travelled by the thousands on a conveyor belt — you could practically taste them in the air. Riff even stuck his tongue out and tried to taste the air, and it worked! He didn’t know how he got there, but there he was, in a Krispy Kreme factory. Magic. It was just like being in that show that he loved on the food channel… the one where you see how the food is made. Man, he loved that show, he couldn’t recall the name, though. This place was better than Disneyland… not that he liked Disneyland all that much, lots of people did, so it was more like an expression of delight, but the people in character masks freaked him out a little bit. So, this was definitely better than Disneyland, yeah, definitely.

God, he felt really high… what was more baked, the donuts, or him? Pondering that philosophical question, the tour guide said that he could feel free to help himself, gesturing toward the sweet confections. Oh shit, really? Awesome, thanks man… Rafael responded before reaching out to grab a donut off of the mechanical belt. Just as he did so, he felt a twinge of pain in his back.

Damn, that really hurt. The cramp in his back was enough to rouse Riff from his dreams. Wait, dreams? Awwe, man, that was just a dream? Rafael could not have been more disappointed than he was in that moment. The boy groaned and tried to stir out of his groggy state. Why was he so uncomfortable? Where was he? A few blinks cleared the sand from his eyes, and Riff was able to observe his surroundings.

A Double’s car. This was most definitely A Double’s car. Rafael could not remember how it had happened, but apparently he had fallen asleep on the floor of the backseat. Raf would like to be able to say that this was the first time that something like this had happened, but that would be a lie, and Riff doesn’t tell lies. He was a small boy, and tight spaces were the most comfortable to fall asleep in. It’s like you’re being hugged, don’t judge!

Rafael sat up to see that he was the only one in the car. Dang, that means his friends must have left him here. Wherever here was. The long-haired burner adjusted his sleep-strewn beanie and pawed at the door to let himself out of Dub’s permanently hotboxed vehicle. Immediately upon opening the door of the abandoned car, the alarm started to go off.

LOUD NOISES!

The sophomore boy hit the ground so quick that you would have thought there was gunfire above him. Many moments passed before his very few unimpaired brain cells were able to connect the dots of what exactly was happening. He wasn’t dying, it was just a car alarm. Rafael swiftly kicked the door shut and then stood up from his prone state. Thankfully, the alarm silenced once the back door was closed.

If he weren’t so thoroughly stoned, Raf might have felt embarrassed by this situation. He didn’t. Looking around, his chocolate-colored gaze settled on a fairly large beach house. He could hear music, and voices. This was a party, and he could vaguely remember being invited to a party. So, chances are, he was supposed to be at this house. Probably.

No one was at the gated entrance, so Rafael strolled in as if he was absolutely meant to be there. It didn’t take too long for him to recognize some of the faces as kids from school. Yeah, this was all good, then. Time to party, but more importantly, time to find the food. He must have passed out before he had the chance to satisfy his post-weed munchies, and the tiny dude was ravenous. A bob here, a weave there, and with more than a few stumbles, Rafael made his way through the crowd and to his destination — the snack table.

Good heavens… He’d never witnessed something so beautiful. The aroma. The glory. The options. Rafael gazed down at the food like one might gaze at a lover. He was perfectly ready to get intimately acquainted with each and every delicacy before him. But this, this was too important of a decision to make it with haste. This feast would take careful planning. Very careful. Rafael put his hand to his chin, concentrating in the level of deep thought that was only possible by having traveled all the way to the cosmos and back again, through THC.

Rafael wasn’t the only person thinking about making a feast fit for kings. Underneath the snack table, laying on her stomach, with Easy Cheese in one hand and a pencil in the other, Ilyana Powers was nearly finished with a concept picture. A drawing of a food tower. A blueprint or a masterpiece, depending on who was looking at the piece of paper. She had already raided Damain’s fridge, freezer, and cabinets to see what she could make. Of course, it took a couple of trips, but under the table with her, were condiments, snacks, things that just looked good to her, chocolate, lots of chocolate, and even her own personal stash of jellybeans. All laid out right in front of her. Every so often, she would take a break from her meticulous planning and see who was near — assuming the person based on the shoes they wore. Some people she even tied their shoelaces together, because that would be hilarious if they fell! Ha, ha, she cracked herself up.

Though, with the amount of alcohol consumption happening this fine evening, that probably wouldn’t be necessary. The concept of time did not exist in Rose’s mind. What felt like minutes to her, probably were hours. She didn’t even remember how she got here, but somehow she did, and no one has noticed her! Yet. That must be a gift or something. Professional lurker! Putting the tip of Easy Cheese in her mouth, she slurped more cheese — yum — until her mouth was completely filled. Her eyes widened when she saw familiar shoes — the little burner made it to the party! Right on. Putting the bottle of cheese to the side, Rose, like a creep, reached out from under the table to tug onto Raf’s pants. He must join her on her mission. That would cut their time down by a lot. While she waited, she took a large gulp and let the cheese trail down her throat.

So good.

Rafael’s pants were moving. That was weird. They normally didn’t do that of their own accord. Riff looked down and saw a hand tugging on his pant leg from under the table. Huh. There was a hissing sound, like a can of whipped cream being pumped. Double huh. Riff knelt down and peeked under the table cloth to see a familiar face.

“Rosaaaa! Whaddup, dude?” Rafael asked, beaming a smile, clearly pleased by his discovery. “Awwe, you got cheese down here? That’s perfect!”

So that Raf didn’t have to kneel down for too long, Rose took it upon herself to shoo him back and crawl out, with her paper. With haste, she jumped up. Woah. She got up a wee bit too fast. She might smoke weed everyday, but that didn’t stop the effects from… affecting. Before she spoke, she clicked her tongue, and then turned her drawing around, putting it on display for him, “I want to make ice cream Leggo My Eggo! sandwiches, s'mores-between-cookies appetizers, Lucky Charms fruit salad, mac and cheese and jelly dressing, everything pizza with literally everything on it, and take those bites with bacon wrapped around ‘em and make it like a border. We should take all the food and pile it high. See how high we can get it. Maybe even more high than us! Doesn’t my fortress look absolutely delicious?” After she was done swiftly telling her friend everything, she clicked her tongue once more.

“I want to eat it.” Raf confirmed with enthusiasm. “No. I want to live there. And then I want to eat it! But, we gotta include the chicken wing dip. That can be the pool.” Riff took the pencil from his fellow artist and sketched the rough shape of a pool within the fortress she displayed. He tapped the pencil against his chin and decided which food would be best for the next addition. “With potato skins as pool floaties. Dank.”

Oh yes, yes! They couldn’t forget the chicken wing dip or the white potato skins. Rose’s concentration broke from her hunger when she overheard a conversation going on across the table.

I know... crazy… Hailey… drugged me… gave me…. cupcake…. soooo goood…. bitch can bake…. Well duh! Ty was her father and Ty baked really delicious edibles but what intrigued her was these words: Riley…. I like you. OH MY GOODNESS! Rose eagerly looked from Jamie, then to Riley. What cute lovers! And then turned to her friend, for a moment, having completely forgotten about the food tower, “RAF!” She loudly shouted, with him inches away from her. Then she leaned close to him and said in hushed tones, “Jam-Jam likes Rye bread.”

“Like… toast?” Riff asked in confusion, totally missing her reference, as his brain was still stuck on food.

“Toast sounds really good right now.” Rose clicked her tongue and wondered what they were doing again… oh yes! “FOOD TOWER~!” She turned on her heel to face the table, “You ready to do this? First one to make anything topple over LOSES!” And without any fair preparation, Rose started grabbing food and making a proper circle (she used her cheese and chocolate like paste to keep everything together). The foundation!

A game! Rafael loves games. He immediately went to work on making a messy base of walls using pizza slices and chips. “You just wait, this will be our best creation yet! They’re gonna put it in that book of people that do really cool stuff!”

CANCELLED.

Location: Bedrooms of the Radley Household
Martha’s Interactions: SavyBaby @melissahart, Mr. Grey (as the star in her painting) @Syn
Marshall’s Interactions: Candyland @Universorum @Bee @melissahart
^Ambience

---

---

Contrary to her party-going peers, New Year’s Eve was a regular night for Martha Radley. The dark-haired young woman had chosen to ignore the many invitations to Damian O’Connor’s party, preferring to stay at home, enjoying the comfort of her bedroom. At a few minutes past nine, Martha was in the zone. She stood right in the middle of her room, staring intently at a freshly-painted canvas while holding a used paint tray in her left hand. Wet and dry paint alike covered most of the exposed areas of her body, evidencing the dedication she was putting on the painting. The movie Queen Of The Damned was playing loudly in the background: the source of inspiration for her newest art piece.

The painting was that of a male vampire embracing his female human lover from the back in front of a twilit background. The male was your stereotypical vampire: tall, muscular, pale, and with a spectacular pair of bloodstained fangs. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of beige trousers and looking down at his mortal lover with an aroused expression. The mortal woman in question wore a deep purple Victorian dress, neck exposed to the vampire and revealing two red puncture wounds. Long locks of dark hair cascaded down and reached right under her ample bosom, accentuated by the dress’ corset. The woman’s eyes were closed, mouth slightly open in what seemed to be a pleasured face. To an outsider looking in, there was nothing more to be said about a typical goth vampire painting. However, to the students in attendance at Beverly Hills High, the inspiration behind faces of said figures in the canvas were inspired by two very real people. One of these people was the artist behind the painting, preserving her currently youthful appearance in the canvas. The other was none other than Grayson Wells, whom the artist had harbored a crush on since her freshman days.

Was it pathetic? Yes. Damn awkward? Very much so. Yet, Martha Radley was certain that the only times she would ever get that close to Grayson Wells were in paintings, drawings, fan-fics, or the assorted wet dreams she had of him every other night.

As Queen Akasha made her bomb-tastic appearance onscreen, the young woman took hold of one of the paintbrushes in her apron. Then, she proceeded to daintily dip the brush in one of the dark gold concoctions on her tray, and began to give soft strokes on the canvas.

---

On the second floor of the Radley residence, there was a boy. A frazzled, pouting, unprepared boy. Why, you might ask? Marshall had not a single thing to wear. That was, of course, untrue — he simply had nothing that fit the bill for this evening’s soirée. His slim smartphone was incessantly buzzing on his nightstand beside a copy of his latest read, Deal Maker by Lily Morton. The Candyland group chat was on fire tonight — Marsh had already received word that the unspoken dress code was black, in addition to multiple photos of his girls getting ready.

The Candies all looked drop dead gorgeous, as usual, and he would be naught but a sore thumb standing beside them later. Especially because, no matter how high and low he looked, he could not find a single black item in his wardrobe. No. No. No. No. NO! Marshall thought irritably to himself, punctuating each decision by carelessly tossing an article of clothing behind him. There was a growing pile of clothes strewn about his usually immaculate bedroom.

Marshall emerged from his closet, shirtless, but dressed from the waist down, in a pair of slim fit dark wash jeans that made his dancer booty look extra perky. On his feet were a set of white leather shoes that were worth more than any pair of shoes had any right being. Frustrated with his failure to find anything suitable, Marshall dramatically collapsed onto his bed. He sent a selfie of his pathetic state to the group chat, captioning it:

i don’t WEAR black. send help.

It was in that moment, staring at the elaborate lighting fixture hanging from the ceiling, that Marshall Radley had an epiphany. MARTHA! His emo-rebel-artist-darkling sister! How could he not realize that sooner? Marshall sent a follow-up text through the Candyland group chat.

Nevermind! I have a plan. Also, I’m forcing Martha to come, so make room in that limo, bishes.

---

Thump, thump, thump, THUMP. For such a trim and lithe young man, Marshall sounded like a bull in a china closet as he clambered down the flight of stairs. With haste, he spun the corner in a flourish and then practically ran down the hall towards Martha’s bedroom.

“LETTIE! YOU GOTTA HELP ME!” Was the only warning that Martha received before her younger brother burst through the door. Knocking? Who does that? Certainly not this boy! “It’s an EMERGENCY!”

Unbeknownst to her brother’s dilemma, big sister Martha continued to work on her masterpiece. Humming along to “Change In The House of Flies” while Lestat fucked Akasha in the background, she continued to slowly cleaned up the edges of the male vampire’s luscious hair when…

THUMP!

The unexpected and loud sound of her bedroom door being savagely flung open caused Martha to jump in surprise. The wooden paintbrush she had held so delicately moments before fell to the floor with a clatter, gold paint splattering everywhere. She whipped her head around so fast it was a miracle her neck didn’t snap.

“Jesus, Marshall! Do you ever knock?” Martha asked, shaking her head as she bent down to pick up her tools of trade and wipe the paint off the floorboards with her hand. Her mother would not be too happy if the acrylic stains on the young woman’s bedroom floor continued to grow.

“Sorry, boo. It’s an emergency!” Marshall explained quickly, his bare chest rising and falling in soft pants from his previous sprint down the steps. His brain had finally caught up to the situation that he had just burst in on. Was his sister painting vampire porn? Should that even surprise him? No, not really, but there was a certain familiarity to the faces. One was definitely hers, and the other… “Is that — ”

Martha immediately raised a paint-stained hand, signaling her brother to hold back whatever it was he wanted to say. “Shut. Up. Don’t talk. Don’t say a word. Don’t even ask.” she trailed off, her stony face now bright red. The fact that she’d been caught red-handed on one of her weird fetishes was enough to embarrass her, but for her beloved brother to instantly recognize who the person she’d been painting was? Wishing for the Earth to open up and swallow would not do this situation enough justice.

She quickly moved to stand in front of the canvas, arms crossed in front of her, blocking her brother’s judgmental eyes from it. At least he hadn’t noticed where one of the vampire’s hands was strategically placed on the mortal woman’s breast. Then it would have been really awkward. “What do you want, anyway? What’s this about an emergency? Is everything okay?”

Marshall, for once, actually kept quiet, as he was told. His blue eyes lingered on the painting for a few moments before flicking back and forth to his sister. There was a teasing smile on his lips, not malicious in any way, it was more like the wheels in his Candy brain were turning. Regardless, he had come down here with a goal, and this little revelation did nothing but encourage him in that respect. “Right… yes. Emergency!”

“We’re going to a party tonight, and I absolutely need to raid your closet for it!” Marsh said, immediately turning his tone back to the chipper, frantic cadence that it was a few moments ago. He flitted over to said closest and began looking through the literal sea of black clothing that she had to spare. God bless his sister, this fallen angel, his actual savior.

“We?” Martha repeated, raising a haughty black eyebrow as she watched Marshall disappear inside her closet.

“Yes, we.” A disembodied voice called in response from the depths of somber clothing.

“You mean you are going to a party tonight. I’m not going anywhere. The cards advised me to stay in tonight.” she told her brother, pointing to the tarot cards spread out in formation across her mahogany desk. “Five of Wands, The Hanged Man and The Hermit? Not a very good combo.”

Marshall emerged with a prize clutched in his hands. A soft black cashmere tee, cut babydoll style. “No, I meant both of us. Maybe… maybe you’re reading into the cards too much, yeah?” He offered carefully, knowing how much she really believed in all of this witchy stuff. He did, of course, support her in it, but it did sometimes freak him out a little. Like, what if the Ouija board stuff got their house haunted by a demon or something? Yikes.

The young woman scowled at Marshall. “Not really. The cards have never failed me up to this very day. Hell, even my horoscope is saying that I should ‘beware of confrontations with people you might know’ —” she said those last words with air quotes. “So, I’m not taking any chances. Yes, The Hanged Man does say I’ll gain wisdom and a unique perspective if I do some self-sacrifice, but I’d rather not risk it.”

Her brother nodded in understanding and pulled the shirt he was holding over his head before spinning around to model it. “Does this make me look cute? Would you dick me in this outfit — you know, if you weren’t my sister… and if you were, uh, not a female?”

Martha took a moment to study her brother, carefully looking him over. The style of the cashmere blouse fit him well. Her full lips were put together in a pout: the sign of her being deep in thought. After a full five seconds, her mouth broke into a wide grin. “You look fabulous, MarMar,” she said sweetly, moving away from her place in front of the canvas to give him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “You’re going to slay at that party. Better send me lots of snaps.”

“Send you lots of snaps…” Marshall mumbled and shook his head like that statement would absolutely not be coming true. He wouldn’t be sending snaps, because she would be going to the damned party. The Radley stubbornness trait was matched only by a fellow Radley. Marsh turned to observe himself in a mirror. In his own style preferences, this would be best paired with a colorful scarf — something happy, and much less gothic.

“Hmm, it needs something. If I’m gonna wear black, I need to look badass. Dangerous, Lettie. You got something like that? Oh! Like a leather jacket! Yeah!”

Martha quickly nodded, pointing her brother in the direction of her closet again. “I’ve got a couple of those, alright. They’re at the very back.”

Without and further instruction, Marshall hurried back into the closet with a wide smile plastered on his face. Martha was the best! What would he have done without his sister coming in clutch? “What are you gonna wear, babes? You should probs wash some of that paint off.” The disembodied voice called from the closet again, this time paired with the rustling of metal hangers.

Martha scoffed, walking over to the edge of the bed and taking a seat while she waited for Marshall to show her his next pick. “I’m not wearing anything. I’ve already told you, I am not going to the stupid party.” she declared, reaching for her phone as she waited got her brother to come out and model his selected leather jacket of choice.

The moment the device came in contact with her hand, it vibrated, letting the young woman know she had pending notifications. When she pressed the lock button with a black-manicured thumb, the screen lit up, alerting her of unread messages from Savannah and Isaac. Martha narrowed her eyes at her phone, intrigued by the first five words of Savybaby’s last text message. She decided to read that one first, and when she did, she let out a loud gasp, nearly dropping her phone in shock.

“Honey, you better get here real fast, some girl’s taking your man.”

Martha closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will her body to calm down. Instead, this only got her angrier, as the face of her possible opponent for the love and attention of her man filled her thoughts. She shook her head, opened her eyes and typed up a quick response to Sav. She needed to make sure about this.

What are you on about SavSav?
Plz don’t tell me what I think it is...

The Radley girl waited for Sav’s response with bated breath. Thankfully, it wasn’t long until her best friend delivered the blow to her:

Pippa’s all over Mr. Grey so come quick. If you wanna kiss him at midnight you srsly better hurry

“Fucking hell!” Martha muttered, slamming her phone on the bed next to her. There it was, the Five of Wands: rivalry, challenges and obstacles.

And Marshall still thought the cards were fake.

Positively seething with jealousy now, Martha grabbed her phone and furiously typed a strand of text messages back to her best friend, her long, black nails making tiny clicking noises as they rushed across the touchscreen keyboard.

Fuckin’ shit… I’m the only Ana to his Grey
Give me a sec, I’ll have MarMar give me a glow up
I’m gonna rock his world. just you wait.
#MarthaColletteWells2k43

After pressing send on that last message, Martha quickly stood up from her spot in the bed. She was going to stop this madness before it grew any further, and if there was a word to describe a Radley, it was determination.

“MarMar, I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to this party. Glow me the fuck up.” she declared, stretching to her full 5’8” Radley height, jaw and fists clenched in anger and determination.

Right on cue, Marshall stepped out of the closet, looking absolutely devastating in a bad boy kind of way, very much unlike his usual style. On his finger hung a ravishing looking dress that he could not ever once remember seeing his sister wear. “Fantastic! I knew I would convince you. Look, I’ve even found your outfit. Girlll, how have I never seen you wear this? Seems like the perfect thing for you to catch a vampire boyfriend with.” Marsh tossed the garment towards her and his face once again wore that mischievous Candyboy grin.

Big sister caught the garment before it could fall, but as she held it up for inspection, she cringed hard. A tight, sparkly dress? No freaking way. The young woman was quick to intervene. “Actually, babe, I think I’m just going to raid Margie’s closet. I’m sure she has a ton of clothes she never uses.” she told her brother, thinking of the world of possibilities that hid in the eldest Radley sister, Marjorie’s, closet. “Give me one second.”

She rushed off away from her room and into her sister’s, then dove straight into Margie’s closet. There was a very particular outfit she recalled seeing her sister in a few years before, worn for a similar party. Legend was that the outfit was lucky, because it had brought her sister the opportunity of sleeping with the one guy she’d wanted all along, but who had never paid her much attention before. God knew Margie was the bombshell of the family, who very much didn’t need some stupid clothing items to snag any man. But if she said it was lucky, then it was lucky, and Martha would need a lot of luck going into this party.

Less than five minutes later, Martha stepped into her room wearing the lucky outfit: a black Slayer graphic T-shirt, paired with a light blue, white and black plaid skirt, mid-calf boots, and a leather jacket. “What do you think?” she asked her brother, giving a twirl. Her plaid skirt and Chanel handbag swirled along with her before coming to a full stop.

“Ugh, to die for! Honestly, you pull off the chic punk look so much better than me. It’s fine, though, you’re right. We are both gonna slay tonight.” Marshall took a few steps closer to her to inspect fully. She still hadn’t got the paint off of her face. He licked his thumb and rubbed at her cheek in a rather maternal manner, removing the smudges. Martha cringed and grimaced as he did this. “There, better!”

Stepping back, he decided she needed one more adjustment before they would be perfectly ready to head out. Ophelia was currently blasting his phone to get outside before Hailey ordered a missile launch on the Radley residence. Marsh roughly fluffed his sister’s thick curls of hair, giving it a purposely messy look. “There, now you have sex hair. I read in Cosmo that straight dudes like it when your girls’ hair is a little wild looking. Listen, we gotta head out. Our ride is here. It’s a… really nice ride, so prepare yourself. It’ll be fun!”

“I think I’m going to need more than just fake sex hair to make anything happen tonight,” Martha lamented, stuffing her handbag with the basics: mauvey-rose lipstick, liquid eyeliner, highlighter (for that bomb-ass glow), a compact mirror, Altoids, her keys, and a miniature version tarot card pack. Before she could place her phone in the bag, Martha typed out a quick few responses to Savannah.

SHUT UP!!! I’m coming I’m coming
Better call out a Hail Mary so I don’t stab a bitch
#jesustakethefuckingwheel

Now satisfied, Martha dropped her cellphone into the handbag and turned to her brother with a wide, wicked grin. “Ready to go, MarMar. Let's get on with this shit. Jesus take the fucking wheel.”

CANCELLED.

_{Location: Sterling Residence | | | Collab with @Universorum & @smarty0114
Ambience}

Soft music played through the sound system built into the walls of Selena Sterling’s lavish bedroom. The lavender-hued space was decorated in rich modern style, perfectly tailored to the teen girl’s feminine tastes. Most days, the shining California sun beamed through sheer purple curtains, highlighting the white and silver accents throughout the room in a way that breathed in an aura of purity and peace. This was the princess’s sanctuary, her place of rest. This was where Selena retired every night after the tiresome days that she spent training to be one of the next monarchs of Beverly Hills High.

Dressed in a silky pink robe, and seated on a cushioned chair in front of her vanity, Selena swirled a fluffy brush into a pan of shimmery white powder. This was her latest experimentation. The young entrepreneur had crafted her own blend of highlighter using a mixture of starch, titanium dioxide, silk powder, and an extra few dashes of silver mica — for the signature Sterling Sparkle. Having already blended out her smokey eyes and defined her contour, Selena brushed on a generous amount of shimmering highlight across the tops of her cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, and her cupid’s bow.

The blonde turned her face from side to side slowly, and then tilted her chin up, admiring her artistry from every angle in the flattering glow of the ring light set behind her mirror. Selena decided that her cheeks could use a little more highlight — there was never enough shimmer with a nickname like “Sparkles”. Having completed her face and eyes, Selena leaned in to put on the actual finishing touch — a velvety coating of Christian Dior’s Rouge Dior Couture in shade # 844 trafalgar. Just as she was about to press the cherry red stick to her parted lips, she jumped at the sudden sound of an alarm clock. The screeching noise even cut through the music that she was listening to.

What the hell?! Selena thought before speaking aloud to the AI programmed in her section of the palatial house. “Lucius, pause.” The AI, which was, in fact, named after the Harry Potter character, responded to her command by silencing the music. Selena inherited a love of the magical films from her mother, but she hardly told anyone about that. “Lucius, what is the time?”

"It is precisely 6:40 PM, Miss Sterling." The AI responded in a regal british accent.

Good. She wasn’t losing her mind. Now, the real question was, why was an alarm clock going off at this time of day — or should she say, this time of evening? Selena set down the tube of lipstick, stood up from her chair, and tightened the tie on the front of her robe before marching out of the room. The silky pink fabric swept across her upper thighs as she took long, rapid strides down the hall towards her twin brother’s room. Knock, knock, knock. Selena swiftly and loudly knocked thrice on the door.

“Sean!” She called through the wooden barrier.

The plain room behind the closed door housed Sean, Selena’s twin brother. He was laying face down in the pillow, and though the alarm had been beeping for nearly a minute now, he hadn't moved. He was awake, and his eyes were open, but the will to stand up was yet to come to him. When he heard Selena call his name, though, he knew there would be no stopping it — she’d probably kick the door down if he didn’t respond.

He reached a hand down to his phone, connected to the wireless network of the house, and dismissed the alarm. Then, he placed a hand by his head and pushed up, freeing himself from the pillow. Sean gazed down at the payload of his nap: a huge drool spot on his pillow, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He stood up and walked over to the door, opening it and staring at Selena with a huge yawn as he rubbed one of his eyes with his palm. “What? I’m up. I’m ready. You said we’re leaving at like 7, didn’t you?” Sean wasn’t ready for anything, let alone a party. He was dressed in a pair of black sweatpants, and a white long sleeve t-shirt, with his hair disheveled and dried drool on his lips. Wait, a party? He couldn’t believe he was being dragged to a party… but, whatever. Selena tended to get what she wanted.

The blonde, whose tresses were currently still tied in a messy bun atop her head, deadpanned at her twin. He was SLEEPING?! They had to be ready in just over a half hour. The limo would be arriving to pick them both up, where they would sit alongside the royalty of Beverly Hills High, and Sean Sterling was wearing SWEATPANTS. Selena’s next words were spoken with sharp precision, her blue eyes blown wide in judgement.

“What... are… you… doing?”

“Obviously, I was resting before the party. Since we’re gonna be staying up so late, I wanted to pre-nap. I slept in my party clothes. I’m ready, Sparkles. Look, I got on pants I don’t really like, so if they get ruined it’s not a loss, and a white t-shirt… so… people can… uhm, sign it with sharpies.” Flawless. Normally he was smarter than this, but all the sleeping must have begun catching up with him. Sean shifted his weight slightly, waiting for his sister’s response.

“Ahem…” Selena cleared her throat and pondered what she would say next very, very carefully. The thing is, she really loved her brother. Loved him to pieces. And he has been gone for the majority of the past six years. Now he was back home, rather unexpectedly, and under very mysterious (she assumed untold) circumstances. Selena couldn’t be more pleased to have him back, and to reintroduce him to all of his old friends and classmates, most of whom wouldn’t even recognize him now that he was grown. But… Seany wasn’t the same boy that left the Sterling residence back in 5th grade. Hell, Sean wasn’t the same boy that was home for the holidays. Something awful happened a few days ago, and Selena wanted to help make it better — that’s why she thought bringing him to this party in the first place would cheer him up!

“Seany. You should at least take a shower. I’ll pick out something nice for you and you can just wear that. Easy peasy!” When he didn’t look immediately convinced by her words, her face softened with a hint of sadness. She tried again. “Please? This is the first time I get to show off my brother to the school in years! You don’t want their first-err-second impression of you to be sweatpants, do you?”

Truth was, Sean couldn’t care less if their first, second, or third impressions were of him in sweatpants. However, he would relent, for Selena’s sake. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eye with his palm again. “Okay, I can take a shower. We might be late though.” Sean was addicted to standing in the shower. Years showering in lukewarm — at best — water really made you appreciate when you had hot water with strong water pressure. Ugh.

Sean bent down and kissed his sister on the cheek, before heading down the hallway two more doors and disappearing into the shower. This wouldn’t be too bad, maybe they’d even leave early. If he was lucky, anyway!

Whilst her brother was away, hopefully washing off some of the residual depression that seemed to be clinging to his soul, Selena set about doing what she said that she would. Poking around in his closet, which had very few pieces, she picked out an outfit that she deemed party appropriate and laid it on his bed. It’s not like there were that many options to choose from. After doing that, she rushed back over to her room to continue her own personal coiffing.

Selena pulled out her hair tie and quickly pressed a few loose curls into her locks using a hair straightener. She pulled her tresses back up into a more carefully styled, purposefully messy bun. With a few flicks of her wrist, Selena pulled pieces out of the bun to frame her face — finishing off the perfect beach party hairstyle, in her opinion. She finally got around to putting on that red lipstick she intended to wear as well. The preppy IT girl-in-training was now half-dressed in a black leather mini skirt — she’d gotten the memo from Ophie and the candygirls to wear black — and a strapless bikini top, when she heard an unexpected voice from outside her bedroom door.

“Knock knock, the second token gay has arrived," The voice said through the door, before it was pushed open to reveal Jamie standing in the entryway.

Jamie walked in and took a seat on the edge of Selena’s large bed, taking in her outfit and smiling. “Okay I know I said I wasn’t gonna come buuuuuut, I decided I needed to get out. Plus, I’m still pissed that those meatheads thought they could snub us like that,” Jamie said. “Also, I would’ve done the all black thing except, this shirt is way hotter, and when the gay’s are this few and far between, I’ve gotta put a little extra work to get the closeted ones out and about. Sidenote, you look great!”

Jamie let relief flood his head for a moment. When navigating the social minefield of high school, every conversation that went smoothly was a big win, and he’d consider that as smooth as ever. He’d never been socially awkward, but still, he knew how this school worked. You say the wrong thing and someone holds it against you for the next six months.

“Black is sexy. Plus, I know for sure that one very uncloseted gay is following the impromptu dress code.” Selena smiled teasingly at the sandy-haired boy. She spun around and grabbed her shirt off of the display mannequin that she often put together her outfits on — it was matched perfectly to her measurements. The girl carefully pulled the black blouse over her head, avoiding messing her hair up, and turned her head over her shoulder to speak to Jamie. “And thank you, you look fantastic as well. Could you do me a solid and zip?”

Jamie smirked and rolled his eyes playfully at Selena’s mention of Marshall, his face flushing red. He and Marshall were two of the handful of gays at BHHS, and so it made sense that they gravitated towards each other. They flirted a lot, but that was that. Jamie was much too busy for a relationship. Well, at least that’s what he told people.

He zipped up her blouse and spun around towards the door. “Alright, please tell me you have some food in this palace, I need to eat something to make sure I don’t end up white girl wasted in front of all the Elite” Jamie said, heading out the door and into the hall, taking a second to admire the architecture inside the house. God, I love living around rich people Jamie thought, grinning.

As Jamie stood there in the hallway, one of the many doors clicked and the knob spun slowly, before it swung open, and out stepped Selena’s brother, who stood with only a towel around his waist, water still dripping down from his hair. “Oh, hi. I’m Sean, Selena’s… twin.” The boy stepped closer to Jamie, offering a wave with his left hand, while his right (dominant) hand held his towel. “I’m kind of new here, I guess.”

Jamie would love to say he kept his cool. But that would be a lie. Here he was, standing and waiting for his friend in the hall, when a nearly naked, beautiful, beautiful boy comes out, dripping water like a literal wet dream. Oh God, you are cruel.

Jamie stood there, mouth struggling to formulate all the things his brain was shooting out, as he very clearly looked over this boy, shook to the very core. Why had Selena never mentioned that she had a hot twin brother? Why was he meeting him half naked? Why was he not saying anything? All these thoughts raced through Jamie’s head, and still, he acted like he’d suddenly gone mute.

Either not noticing or not caring that Jamie had gone mute, Sean stuck out his dominant hand for a handshake. In doing so, he let go of the towel wrapped around his waist — and it fell to the ground without a care. Sean, seemingly unfazed by this, waited for his handshake to be accepted.

This wasn’t happening. Nope. Nope. Nope. This boy, Selena’s brother, was naked, in front of him, like, completely nude. When the fuck did my life become a porno! Jamie thought.

Suddenly, a wave of confidence overcame the scrawny boy. Jamie Callaghan, stop stammering like a virgin and shake this guy's fucking hand! Jamie thought, before he earnestly shot his hand out and grabbed Sean’s, giving it a firm, probably too firm, shake and nodding as if he hadn’t totally seen the Sterling Family Jewels on full display. “I’m Jamie, uh, Jamie Callaghan. I’m a, er, friend of, uh, Selena’s” Jamie managed to eek out, his mind definitely not focused on this boys face.

As if on cue, Selena stepped out of her room after Jamie. She had a small clutch with the essentials in it tucked under her arm, and she was looking down to adjust her shoes. When she looked up from her feet, let’s just say she didn’t expect to see what her eyes were about to witness. “O-oh. Oh my god! What are you doing, Sean?”

Her phone vibrated within the clutch. With an exasperated huff, she checked the screen. Ophelia had texted her, saying they were only a few seconds away. “Please put some clothes on, our ride is almost here. Jamie, you’re coming with, right?” She asked, her fingers poised above the screen to respond and say that she had yet another plus one to add to the limo ride.

Jamie silently thanked God for his intervention and nodded at Selena’s question. “Yeah, yep, for suuuuuure,” Jamie said, gulping. He made a mental note to ask Selena about her brother’s preferences at some point tonight because he’d be damned if he was going to miss out on that.

Sean looked at his sister and squinted for a second, before realizing. He reached down and picked the towel up, “Oh, sorry. It doesn’t… I’m not used to that being a big deal,” He mumbled, before hurrying off into his room to put on the outfit chosen for him by his sister.

“So sorry about that.” Selena quickly apologized on behalf of her brother once he was out of earshot. “He’s been a little… different lately. He’s not usually like that, I don’t think.” She explained and then realized that she didn’t even really know if that was the truth. Maybe he was like this? Truth be told, she didn’t know what she knew about her twin brother anymore

“No, it’s fine. Um, quick question, do you know, y’know, if your brother likes, er, boys? Just, y’know, asking for a friend.” Jamie asked, blushing profusely.

Selena raised her brow, the pretty little blonde arch taunting the boy. “Oh, for a friend, huh? He went to an all boys school in Switzerland where they apparently don’t make a big deal of being completely stark naked. So… yes, to answer your question. But not just boys, as far as I know.” Selena’s phone buzzed once more, cutting her off. It was Skittles again.

Skittles: im not usually so short with u but if u dont hurry up hailey might stab me somehow with fudge. time is of the essence baby girl

“Looks like it was time to leave about two minutes ago. C’mon dearie.” Sel hooked her arm into Jamie’s elbow to walk outside together and called for her brother as they walked. “Let’s go, Seany. Meet us out front A.S.A.P.”

CANCELLED.

@Taytay

Approved - also, where did you find this precious smol bean FC? Love!

~GM Silent

CANCELLED.

@Sovi3t

Looks good to be accepted after you do some editing. Before you move him to the CS tab, please change this sentence in the history "Jerome enters high school at the age of 18 after he decided to enroll a year late to further enhance his craft of being a mechanic and salesmen."

In the US, you can't really enter high school a year late - unless you were held back a grade in a prior year. There are truancy laws and all of that. Even kids who do trade school (like mechanical) - which is towards the junior/senior years of high school - they still attend regular class for half of the day and graduate on time.

~GM Silent

CANCELLED.

@Sovi3t Yeah, I don't see why not! :)

CANCELLED.

@Juniper@Legion02

Accepted! Go ahead and move them to the CS tab.

~GM Silent

CANCELLED.

@Mara@Kitty

CANCELLED.

@Syn@Kitty@Legion02

All of your characters have been reviewed and accepted. Welcome to BHHS... sorry, I am too lazy to find and include the accepted toilet paper cat pic, but he's here in spirit.

~GM Silent

CANCELLED.

@SunsetWanderer Accepted! Go ahead and move him over to the CS tab. :3

~GM Silent