Relatively interested, but not fully committed yet. I'd have to think if I could be creative enough to make TWO characters right off the bat.
Grimoire Gaming Member
Unseelie Faerie
STATUS: in less than a week, kenny committed a double homicide on the same person. thoughts and prayers 7 mos ago
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in less than a week, kenny committed a double homicide on the same person. thoughts and prayers
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6 yrs ago
"I don't attract what I want, I attract what I am. Dead as the bees buzzing inside my head." MM
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Boo!
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"If you have ghosts, you have everything."
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Do you wanna start a cult with me?
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Bio
Grim / Grimoire
(they/them)
It's been over a year since I've written creatively but here I am again.
'sup.
(they/them)
It's been over a year since I've written creatively but here I am again.
'sup.
Most Recent Posts
Starring: Chrysler and Angela Reyes
Setting: Home, Friday Afternoon
Tires peeled against the asphalt as Chris turned his KTM Super Duke down Washington Avenue. It wasn’t the nicest bike on the streets, but it was his. Back in 2017, when the cycle was originally manufactured, it would have cost about as much as a mid tier sedan, but Chris bought her for only a few hundred bucks via Craigslist. The seller warned that she didn’t run, but she’d be good for selling parts. Chrysler had other plans though, like putting the skills he was learning at trade school to good use. With a little elbow grease, love, and many late nights spent cursing in the garage when the parts he ordered didn’t work, Chris finally got the bike street ready. He even got it a new paint job, black and blood orange. With a few more months of tinkering, it was race ready. That was the best part, giving those rich kids a run for their money — quite literally — in a motorcycle that he didn’t put more than a few grand and a year’s worth of manual labor into. Take that, capitalism!
Chris kicked the rumbling engine off in his driveway and locked the motorcycle up in the garage beside his mother’s beater of a car. That’s what you did in his neighborhood. You locked your shit up, or it would gain a habit of wandering off in the middle of the night. Slapping the garage door button, Chrysler made his way inside the house. The first room connected to the garage was the kitchen, where his mother, Angela Reyes, was washing dishes at the sink. The relatively young woman, at least for someone with a 17 year old son, turned her head over her shoulder and smiled at him. “Hey, baby,” she greeted warmly before turning back around to her housework.
“Hey, Moms,” he replied, sitting down at the kitchen table and setting his pin-covered, ratty, old, black backpack down on the linoleum floor. He didn’t have immediate plans, so he’d sit and chat with his mother for a bit. It was Friday, after all, a good time to catch up with her before she hit the bottle.
“How was school?” His mother asked, her head still facing the window while she washed a cup. Chris was starting to get comfortable, kicking his shoes off and wiggling his toes in all of their glorious freedom. The next step in the afternoon relaxation ritual was a good long drag. The rebellious teen pulled a plastic red lighter and a pack of Marlboro’s out of his jacket pocket and lit up a cig before returning them to their places. Noticing a small plate with some apparent breadcrumbs on it across the table, Chris pulled it towards him to flick his ashes on.
“It was fine. Just school, nothing special.” He responded, exhaling a breath of smoke as he did so and leaning back in the chair. “How was work?”
Instead of answering, Angela’s head tilted up. She turned the faucet off after a few moments and waited. Little did her son know, she was sniffing the air. Angela turned around, her almond shaped eyes narrowed into angry slits.
Ah, fuck… He thought. Five foot nothing and a hundred and ten pounds of pure maternal rage, incoming. Angela marched over to her son, who was now sitting back upright in the chair. She plucked the cigarette straight out of his lips and stabbed the butt out harshly into the plate that he had been using as an ashtray. Without any words, she held out her hand.
“Seriously?” Chris asked incredulously as he looked at her opened palm. What was this about? She knew he smoked, why make a scene all of the sudden? He looked from her palm to her face. Her eyes narrowed further, and damn… Hell hath no fury like a bent filipina mother. Chris wasn’t about to lose his life over a pack of cigarettes and a BIC lighter. He fished the objects out of his jacket pocket and placed them in her palm silently.
“These things will kill you. No more.” Angela scolded, slapping them on the plate and turning around. She hastily walked over to the trash and tapped the plate against the plastic bin, dumping the contents into the garbage.
“Yeah, you know what else kills ya?” Chris asked in retaliation. If she wanted a fight, he’d brawl. Throwing out his cigarettes, what kind of shit is this? Someone must have pissed in her coffee at work. His mother turned around in response, her hands on her hips, though one was still holding his makeshift ashtray. “Vodka.” He said curtly, his eyes flicking over to her liquor cabinet. Touché, madre.
“Mind your tongue with me, binata!” She hissed, gesturing harshly at him with the plate. After that, she seemed to mellow out slightly. “What are your plans tonight?” She asked, turning back to head towards the sink, as if none of that previous argument took place.
What in the actual fuck was going on? Chris felt like he was going to get whiplash from this conversation. He should have just went to his room, damn. “I dunno, going out?”
“Out?” You could practically hear the judgmental eyebrow raise in her tone.
“Yeah, out.” He confirmed without clarifying.
“You will do your homework first?” She framed it like a question, but it was a demand. Chris could see that, he knew how this dance went.
“... It’s Friday.” Chris said as an excuse not to. His short response was answered by her violently throwing the plate down into the dishwater. Suds flew up and clung to the curtains on the window, and the clang of porcelain against the steel sink caused Chris to startle in his seat.
Spinning around, angry once again, his mother went on a full-on rant. “What is wrong with you? What did I do so wrong? You need to get serious! Do your homework, do school. Do you want to live like this your whole life? Huh? Do you?! You need to get ready for college, not smoke cigarettes and go out all the time. Be better than this. You hear me, binata?”
“Alright! Shit, don’t break plates over it, fuck.” Chris responded, standing up with his hands in surrender. He honestly didn’t know what she was capable of, was she gonna chuck a plate at him next? Damn… “I’ll do homework first, aiight? But I’m still going out after, it’s Friday, Moms.”
He was going to leave it at that. Just go to his room and maybe actually do some homework like he promised. Maybe. But as soon as he walked through the threshold to the hall, he felt a pang in his stomach. Guilt. He turned around to see his mother facing away from him, looking rather defeated with her sudsy hands against the counter. Sighing, he approached her. “I don’t think I need better than this, Moms. I ain’t mad at what we got, and you shouldn’t be either. You did the best with the hand you were given, aiight? You did good for us, and I ain’t mad… If I act out, it’s really just on me, ‘kay? Or we came blame my dickhead father, he’s a good scapegoat, right?”
At that, Angela turned and cracked a smile. Throwing his mystery dad under the bus could lighten any mood. Chris pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back comfortingly. Truly, he didn’t like it when they fought, even if they were well-versed in it. “You’re a good boy.” She whispered as an apology.
“Only to the people who matter most.” Chris said, and pulled away enough to kiss his significantly shorter mother’s temple. “I’ll go do my homework now, promise.”
Chris kicked the rumbling engine off in his driveway and locked the motorcycle up in the garage beside his mother’s beater of a car. That’s what you did in his neighborhood. You locked your shit up, or it would gain a habit of wandering off in the middle of the night. Slapping the garage door button, Chrysler made his way inside the house. The first room connected to the garage was the kitchen, where his mother, Angela Reyes, was washing dishes at the sink. The relatively young woman, at least for someone with a 17 year old son, turned her head over her shoulder and smiled at him. “Hey, baby,” she greeted warmly before turning back around to her housework.
“Hey, Moms,” he replied, sitting down at the kitchen table and setting his pin-covered, ratty, old, black backpack down on the linoleum floor. He didn’t have immediate plans, so he’d sit and chat with his mother for a bit. It was Friday, after all, a good time to catch up with her before she hit the bottle.
“How was school?” His mother asked, her head still facing the window while she washed a cup. Chris was starting to get comfortable, kicking his shoes off and wiggling his toes in all of their glorious freedom. The next step in the afternoon relaxation ritual was a good long drag. The rebellious teen pulled a plastic red lighter and a pack of Marlboro’s out of his jacket pocket and lit up a cig before returning them to their places. Noticing a small plate with some apparent breadcrumbs on it across the table, Chris pulled it towards him to flick his ashes on.
“It was fine. Just school, nothing special.” He responded, exhaling a breath of smoke as he did so and leaning back in the chair. “How was work?”
Instead of answering, Angela’s head tilted up. She turned the faucet off after a few moments and waited. Little did her son know, she was sniffing the air. Angela turned around, her almond shaped eyes narrowed into angry slits.
Ah, fuck… He thought. Five foot nothing and a hundred and ten pounds of pure maternal rage, incoming. Angela marched over to her son, who was now sitting back upright in the chair. She plucked the cigarette straight out of his lips and stabbed the butt out harshly into the plate that he had been using as an ashtray. Without any words, she held out her hand.
“Seriously?” Chris asked incredulously as he looked at her opened palm. What was this about? She knew he smoked, why make a scene all of the sudden? He looked from her palm to her face. Her eyes narrowed further, and damn… Hell hath no fury like a bent filipina mother. Chris wasn’t about to lose his life over a pack of cigarettes and a BIC lighter. He fished the objects out of his jacket pocket and placed them in her palm silently.
“These things will kill you. No more.” Angela scolded, slapping them on the plate and turning around. She hastily walked over to the trash and tapped the plate against the plastic bin, dumping the contents into the garbage.
“Yeah, you know what else kills ya?” Chris asked in retaliation. If she wanted a fight, he’d brawl. Throwing out his cigarettes, what kind of shit is this? Someone must have pissed in her coffee at work. His mother turned around in response, her hands on her hips, though one was still holding his makeshift ashtray. “Vodka.” He said curtly, his eyes flicking over to her liquor cabinet. Touché, madre.
“Mind your tongue with me, binata!” She hissed, gesturing harshly at him with the plate. After that, she seemed to mellow out slightly. “What are your plans tonight?” She asked, turning back to head towards the sink, as if none of that previous argument took place.
What in the actual fuck was going on? Chris felt like he was going to get whiplash from this conversation. He should have just went to his room, damn. “I dunno, going out?”
“Out?” You could practically hear the judgmental eyebrow raise in her tone.
“Yeah, out.” He confirmed without clarifying.
“You will do your homework first?” She framed it like a question, but it was a demand. Chris could see that, he knew how this dance went.
“... It’s Friday.” Chris said as an excuse not to. His short response was answered by her violently throwing the plate down into the dishwater. Suds flew up and clung to the curtains on the window, and the clang of porcelain against the steel sink caused Chris to startle in his seat.
Spinning around, angry once again, his mother went on a full-on rant. “What is wrong with you? What did I do so wrong? You need to get serious! Do your homework, do school. Do you want to live like this your whole life? Huh? Do you?! You need to get ready for college, not smoke cigarettes and go out all the time. Be better than this. You hear me, binata?”
“Alright! Shit, don’t break plates over it, fuck.” Chris responded, standing up with his hands in surrender. He honestly didn’t know what she was capable of, was she gonna chuck a plate at him next? Damn… “I’ll do homework first, aiight? But I’m still going out after, it’s Friday, Moms.”
He was going to leave it at that. Just go to his room and maybe actually do some homework like he promised. Maybe. But as soon as he walked through the threshold to the hall, he felt a pang in his stomach. Guilt. He turned around to see his mother facing away from him, looking rather defeated with her sudsy hands against the counter. Sighing, he approached her. “I don’t think I need better than this, Moms. I ain’t mad at what we got, and you shouldn’t be either. You did the best with the hand you were given, aiight? You did good for us, and I ain’t mad… If I act out, it’s really just on me, ‘kay? Or we came blame my dickhead father, he’s a good scapegoat, right?”
At that, Angela turned and cracked a smile. Throwing his mystery dad under the bus could lighten any mood. Chris pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back comfortingly. Truly, he didn’t like it when they fought, even if they were well-versed in it. “You’re a good boy.” She whispered as an apology.
“Only to the people who matter most.” Chris said, and pulled away enough to kiss his significantly shorter mother’s temple. “I’ll go do my homework now, promise.”
Friday. June 1st. 11 AM. Reese Residence.
There were only a few short hours each day that Demitri truly had to himself, especially now that he was suddenly made the head of the household. One might think that it being summer vacation would make things easier, but all that meant was that the kids didn’t get up as early. Once they were up, they still needed to be fed a decent meal, and instead of being bussed off to school, they had to be entertained at home or elsewhere. This was the hardest part for Demi — making sure they were content and cared for in these tough times, all the while not bothering to care for himself.
School might be out for the younger Reese children, but that wasn’t the case for Demitri. When he lost his mother earlier in the semester, he had taken it incredibly hard, and the emotional turmoil impacted his school work. Upon recommendation from his academic advisor, Demi lightened his course load. There is always summer session, as his advisor suggested. Summer session was here now, and Demitri was enrolled in the junior level basic operations management class that he had dropped during the spring semester. Now that is was summer, and yet another tragedy had struck the family, Demi was looking back and wishing that he hadn’t been such a pussy before, then he’d have more time to be with his loved ones now. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, as they say.
The other Reese’s had found things to do, so Demitri had retired to his old childhood room for the few hours before class. Demi sat glaring at the screen of his laptop, which was on an old wooden desk beside a steaming mug of jet black coffee. Caffeine and angst were the only things keeping him upright these days. He hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in over a week, and it was beginning to show. Not that process mapping and supply chain management were ever the most interesting topics, but the words were beginning to blur together as his eyelids drooped.
There was something almost hypnotic in the ticking of the clock on the wall. Tick tock. There was going to be a quiz today. Tick tock. He needed to study. Tick tock. Just take a sip of coffee and power through. Tick tock. Maybe five minutes won’t hurt. Tick tock. Just a little nap…
Demitri startled awake to the sound of the front door opening. Paranoid and on high alert, as he had been for days on end, Demi stood up and frantically scanned the room for the nearest weapon. The basball bat was behind the front door, bloody lot of good that was doing him since the intruder just walked right in. Which one of his siblings left the door unlocked? Demi’s money was on Robin, he wore his carelessness like it was armor. Stubborn little shit. Demitri settled on the letter opener, it was sharp enough to stab someone with… probably.
The redhead crept quietly down the hall towards the front room, gripping the letter opener tight in his right hand. He rounded the corner just as his older sister called out to see if anyone was home. His grip loosened and his shoulders relaxed as a flood of relief ran through him, you could practically breathe in the waves of anxiety leaving his body.
“Abi. Hi.” He greeted shortly, clearly still in shock. Demi kept the hand holding the letter opener slightly behind his back. “I wasn’t expecting you.” His disheveled clothing and unkempt hair, which hadn’t seen a shower in just as long as he hadn’t slept, made it clear that Demitri wasn’t expecting anyone. He was usually so well put together, stylish, even. The man who stood before her wasn’t the brother she grew up with. “Can I get you something to eat?” But parts of him were still there.
School might be out for the younger Reese children, but that wasn’t the case for Demitri. When he lost his mother earlier in the semester, he had taken it incredibly hard, and the emotional turmoil impacted his school work. Upon recommendation from his academic advisor, Demi lightened his course load. There is always summer session, as his advisor suggested. Summer session was here now, and Demitri was enrolled in the junior level basic operations management class that he had dropped during the spring semester. Now that is was summer, and yet another tragedy had struck the family, Demi was looking back and wishing that he hadn’t been such a pussy before, then he’d have more time to be with his loved ones now. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, as they say.
The other Reese’s had found things to do, so Demitri had retired to his old childhood room for the few hours before class. Demi sat glaring at the screen of his laptop, which was on an old wooden desk beside a steaming mug of jet black coffee. Caffeine and angst were the only things keeping him upright these days. He hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in over a week, and it was beginning to show. Not that process mapping and supply chain management were ever the most interesting topics, but the words were beginning to blur together as his eyelids drooped.
There was something almost hypnotic in the ticking of the clock on the wall. Tick tock. There was going to be a quiz today. Tick tock. He needed to study. Tick tock. Just take a sip of coffee and power through. Tick tock. Maybe five minutes won’t hurt. Tick tock. Just a little nap…
Demitri startled awake to the sound of the front door opening. Paranoid and on high alert, as he had been for days on end, Demi stood up and frantically scanned the room for the nearest weapon. The basball bat was behind the front door, bloody lot of good that was doing him since the intruder just walked right in. Which one of his siblings left the door unlocked? Demi’s money was on Robin, he wore his carelessness like it was armor. Stubborn little shit. Demitri settled on the letter opener, it was sharp enough to stab someone with… probably.
The redhead crept quietly down the hall towards the front room, gripping the letter opener tight in his right hand. He rounded the corner just as his older sister called out to see if anyone was home. His grip loosened and his shoulders relaxed as a flood of relief ran through him, you could practically breathe in the waves of anxiety leaving his body.
“Abi. Hi.” He greeted shortly, clearly still in shock. Demi kept the hand holding the letter opener slightly behind his back. “I wasn’t expecting you.” His disheveled clothing and unkempt hair, which hadn’t seen a shower in just as long as he hadn’t slept, made it clear that Demitri wasn’t expecting anyone. He was usually so well put together, stylish, even. The man who stood before her wasn’t the brother she grew up with. “Can I get you something to eat?” But parts of him were still there.
Sean was in the Sterling family garage, with his motorcycle up on the lift in front of him. A set of fine precision tools was resting on a toolbox beside him, and he was silently mouthing along to music that was playing through the room. He twisted wrench until he heard the click, and pulled it off of the engine, before he took a step back from the bike and spoke aloud to his Assistant, “check the compression levels?” He asked, and the bike’s starter began to click, before he held up his hand. “Wait. Lower the music.”
He turned around to look at the doorway, “Selena. Hey. Cut the music.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I actually like Rammstein.” His pretty-in-pink sister replied with a smile. Her shoes made soft ticking noises as she descended the steps. Sel’s eyes wandered from her brother to the motorcycle he was working on. “I can’t believe you actually convinced Mom to let you get that thing.” She said with a smirk and walked closer. “What are you doing to it? It’s brand new, it shouldn’t need to be fixed already, right?”
“I would have gotten it anyway, I paid for it myself. She bought me a helmet though — insisted on it.” Sean shrugged and hit the button to lower the bike down to the ground, before launching into an explanation. “I’m tweaking the engine’s compression, to mess with acceleration versus top speed. I could have probably kept it stock, but… Who’s that fun for? This way it’ll zip up to top speed a bit higher. I’m not doing any track racing, so I figure I can have the focus be on the acceleration, versus the top speed. Plus, this way it’s more nimble going through the alleyways and backstreets — you know, in case I get in a car chase.”
He rolled his eyes and shrugged, “not that it would ever happen. If you go fast enough, then the cops will just give up. That’s why I got the bike. Cops aren’t paid enough to deal with drug deals, murders, and then be asked to commit to high speed chases.” Turning his attention away from the bike and back to Selena, Sean added. “You can probably convince Mom to buy you one. Just soften her up with wine first.”
“That certainly sounds more like Mom.” Selena chimed in with a tiny bell of a laugh when he mentioned the helmet. She walked around, viewing the bike from all angles as Sean explained what he was doing. Surprisingly enough, she understood most of what he rambled on about. The silver princess was not a gearhead by any means, she knew hardly anything about vehicles, but the words he was using were physics terms. Science was a language that both twins spoke, though Sean had always worn the nerd label a bit more boldly and proudly. While Selena gave all the fucks about what people thought of her, Sean gave none about what people thought of him. She envied that, he seemed so much more… free. “Oh… no, I don’t want one. Is that how you did it, you caught her while she was wine drunk?” Sel asked with a chuckle and shook her head at her brother, a playful smile on her face.
“I mean… I don’t want one… but maybe when you’re finished tinkering, you could take me for a ride?” Her tone was hopeful, and curious.
“What? Why would I do that?” Sean reached in his pocket and withdrew the key, holding it out to his sister and shaking his head as he dropped it into her palm. “Just take it yourself. It’ll be more fun that way, and I trust you. What’s the worst that could happen?” Again, the differences between the twins were highlighted, this time Sean’s ability to seemingly do whatever he wanted without care for the consequences, and Selena’s somewhat… cautious approach, by comparison.
“Just take it for a ride around the valley, or something, and bring it back.” Sean suggested, walking over to one of the tables, to return the tools he’d been using, “just be wary of the acceleration. It… accelerates pretty hard, especially after those tweaks. I’m confident you can handle it, after all, you are my twin.”
“W-what?” Selena uncharacteristically stumbled on her words as she looked down at the key he’d just dropped in her palm. “No, I can—” She was about to say “I can’t”, but that isn’t a phrase in a Sterling’s vocabulary. Sterlings can, Sterlings will, and Sterlings do. After clearing her throat lightly, she stood up a little straighter. “You at least have to show me how first, I’m never driven one before.” The blonde looked down at what she was wearing briefly — a skirt, a flowy blouse, and kitten heels. “That, and I will have to buy a more appropriate outfit first.”
“Buy? Don’t you have jeans and a jacket? The whole biker getup, with the sleek black jumpsuit… That’s Helmsley style, more than Sterling I think. ‘Course, it’s not surprising you want to go shopping. Look, it’s this simple.” He swung a leg over the bike and gestured at the handlebars, “look. The lever on the left is the clutch. Pull it in before you shift. You’ll know when to shift, the bike will be making a noise when the gears are winding and are ready to go. The right side has the throttle,” he said, twisting the grip to show. “And the lever is the front brake. You basically don’t ever want to touch it when you’re going fast, or you’ll flip over forward and either die or have your face scraped off. On the left peg is the shifter. It’s a 6 gear bike. All the way down is first gear. Halfway between first and second is neutral. On the right peg is the rear brake. It’s better to just downshift to slow down, but if you want to use a brake, use that one. That’s how it’s done. Any questions?”
Selena rolled her eyes slightly at his jeans and jacket comment. Of course she already had clothes that she could wear, but this was a special occasion. Her first time riding a motorcycle. It could be her last time riding a motorcycle, and she’d be damned if she didn’t go out in top notch style. Special occasions called for new outfits, and it’d been a while since she’d gone a shopping date with her bestie. A fews weeks, at least. As her brother went on his lecture about the controls, Selena nodded along. For the most part, she was following the instructions, but with the warning that she could have her face scraped off if she messed up… she decided she might want to do some further studying before trying it herself.
“Hmm…” She mused when Sean asked if she had any questions. “I’ll quiz myself.” Selena circled around the bike, pointing at the left handle. “Clutch, for shifting gears, I should know when to shift.” She moved her hand to the right side of the handlebars “Throttle, makes it go faster, yeah? And the lever is the front brake, don’t use at high speed for risk of losing face,” Things got a little muddy when it came to the pegs. The left one shifted gears, and the right one is another brake — a better brake to use? She pointed to the pegs, “Shifter and other brake. How did I do?”
Sean listened closely to his sister’s words as she tried to read back all the information that he’d given her. As she went, he nodded along with her. She was doing a good job, though that was simply to be expected; after all, she was a Sterling. “You did good. You should be fine, so long as you stick to the advice I gave you and don’t forget anything important.” Sean said, leaning against the garage wall. “Let’s go shopping, I guess.” As he said that, he made a bit of a noise; was he seriously suggesting shopping? Much had changed.
Sel beamed a smile in response to her brother’s praise. “I won’t forget. I’ll also probably watch some videos tonight and learn more before I actually try it. I’d quite like to keep my face the way it is, so more knowledge is better.” She tossed the key back to Sean and eyed him with a raised brow. “You don’t want to go shopping, I know you. I’ll just go with Jamie tomorrow morning, it’s been a while since we had a bestie date.” Selena offered, giving her brother a perfect out. “Though, I’d love to do something else with you! Maybe we could go somewhere good to eat? If we stay here, Mom’ll try to push more health foods on us, and I could pretty much kill for a cheeseburger right now.” Yes, you heard right. The Sterling’s eldest daughter preferred greasy goodness to the stereotypical valley girl salads and quinoa.
Sean’s hand whipped up and snatched the key out of the air after they were thrown his way. “That sounds infinitely better than any other possible option.” Sean said in immediate agreement after Selena suggested that he sit out the shopping trip. Whatever it took to keep him out of a store was a good deal as far as he was concerned. When she suggested leaving to eat, Sean’s eyebrow raised slightly, and he thought about it a moment, before making a suggestion. “I heard some people who looked like they know about food mention a place called the Sunshine Diner. But…”
“We have to take the twins.”
Selena narrowed her eyes at her brother. He’d been back long enough to see how the twins acted around her. He knew what he was asking of her. “Fine. But... only because I know the milkshakes are ace there. You’ll drive, I have to text and make plans for tomorrow.” Selena said, kissing her brother on the cheek before heading inside to fetch the hellions. Sean would prefer to drive anyway, lest he be caught in her pink monstrosity again. Plus, she’d be loathe to let the twins touch her car’s pristine leather interior.
He turned around to look at the doorway, “Selena. Hey. Cut the music.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I actually like Rammstein.” His pretty-in-pink sister replied with a smile. Her shoes made soft ticking noises as she descended the steps. Sel’s eyes wandered from her brother to the motorcycle he was working on. “I can’t believe you actually convinced Mom to let you get that thing.” She said with a smirk and walked closer. “What are you doing to it? It’s brand new, it shouldn’t need to be fixed already, right?”
“I would have gotten it anyway, I paid for it myself. She bought me a helmet though — insisted on it.” Sean shrugged and hit the button to lower the bike down to the ground, before launching into an explanation. “I’m tweaking the engine’s compression, to mess with acceleration versus top speed. I could have probably kept it stock, but… Who’s that fun for? This way it’ll zip up to top speed a bit higher. I’m not doing any track racing, so I figure I can have the focus be on the acceleration, versus the top speed. Plus, this way it’s more nimble going through the alleyways and backstreets — you know, in case I get in a car chase.”
He rolled his eyes and shrugged, “not that it would ever happen. If you go fast enough, then the cops will just give up. That’s why I got the bike. Cops aren’t paid enough to deal with drug deals, murders, and then be asked to commit to high speed chases.” Turning his attention away from the bike and back to Selena, Sean added. “You can probably convince Mom to buy you one. Just soften her up with wine first.”
“That certainly sounds more like Mom.” Selena chimed in with a tiny bell of a laugh when he mentioned the helmet. She walked around, viewing the bike from all angles as Sean explained what he was doing. Surprisingly enough, she understood most of what he rambled on about. The silver princess was not a gearhead by any means, she knew hardly anything about vehicles, but the words he was using were physics terms. Science was a language that both twins spoke, though Sean had always worn the nerd label a bit more boldly and proudly. While Selena gave all the fucks about what people thought of her, Sean gave none about what people thought of him. She envied that, he seemed so much more… free. “Oh… no, I don’t want one. Is that how you did it, you caught her while she was wine drunk?” Sel asked with a chuckle and shook her head at her brother, a playful smile on her face.
“I mean… I don’t want one… but maybe when you’re finished tinkering, you could take me for a ride?” Her tone was hopeful, and curious.
“What? Why would I do that?” Sean reached in his pocket and withdrew the key, holding it out to his sister and shaking his head as he dropped it into her palm. “Just take it yourself. It’ll be more fun that way, and I trust you. What’s the worst that could happen?” Again, the differences between the twins were highlighted, this time Sean’s ability to seemingly do whatever he wanted without care for the consequences, and Selena’s somewhat… cautious approach, by comparison.
“Just take it for a ride around the valley, or something, and bring it back.” Sean suggested, walking over to one of the tables, to return the tools he’d been using, “just be wary of the acceleration. It… accelerates pretty hard, especially after those tweaks. I’m confident you can handle it, after all, you are my twin.”
“W-what?” Selena uncharacteristically stumbled on her words as she looked down at the key he’d just dropped in her palm. “No, I can—” She was about to say “I can’t”, but that isn’t a phrase in a Sterling’s vocabulary. Sterlings can, Sterlings will, and Sterlings do. After clearing her throat lightly, she stood up a little straighter. “You at least have to show me how first, I’m never driven one before.” The blonde looked down at what she was wearing briefly — a skirt, a flowy blouse, and kitten heels. “That, and I will have to buy a more appropriate outfit first.”
“Buy? Don’t you have jeans and a jacket? The whole biker getup, with the sleek black jumpsuit… That’s Helmsley style, more than Sterling I think. ‘Course, it’s not surprising you want to go shopping. Look, it’s this simple.” He swung a leg over the bike and gestured at the handlebars, “look. The lever on the left is the clutch. Pull it in before you shift. You’ll know when to shift, the bike will be making a noise when the gears are winding and are ready to go. The right side has the throttle,” he said, twisting the grip to show. “And the lever is the front brake. You basically don’t ever want to touch it when you’re going fast, or you’ll flip over forward and either die or have your face scraped off. On the left peg is the shifter. It’s a 6 gear bike. All the way down is first gear. Halfway between first and second is neutral. On the right peg is the rear brake. It’s better to just downshift to slow down, but if you want to use a brake, use that one. That’s how it’s done. Any questions?”
Selena rolled her eyes slightly at his jeans and jacket comment. Of course she already had clothes that she could wear, but this was a special occasion. Her first time riding a motorcycle. It could be her last time riding a motorcycle, and she’d be damned if she didn’t go out in top notch style. Special occasions called for new outfits, and it’d been a while since she’d gone a shopping date with her bestie. A fews weeks, at least. As her brother went on his lecture about the controls, Selena nodded along. For the most part, she was following the instructions, but with the warning that she could have her face scraped off if she messed up… she decided she might want to do some further studying before trying it herself.
“Hmm…” She mused when Sean asked if she had any questions. “I’ll quiz myself.” Selena circled around the bike, pointing at the left handle. “Clutch, for shifting gears, I should know when to shift.” She moved her hand to the right side of the handlebars “Throttle, makes it go faster, yeah? And the lever is the front brake, don’t use at high speed for risk of losing face,” Things got a little muddy when it came to the pegs. The left one shifted gears, and the right one is another brake — a better brake to use? She pointed to the pegs, “Shifter and other brake. How did I do?”
Sean listened closely to his sister’s words as she tried to read back all the information that he’d given her. As she went, he nodded along with her. She was doing a good job, though that was simply to be expected; after all, she was a Sterling. “You did good. You should be fine, so long as you stick to the advice I gave you and don’t forget anything important.” Sean said, leaning against the garage wall. “Let’s go shopping, I guess.” As he said that, he made a bit of a noise; was he seriously suggesting shopping? Much had changed.
Sel beamed a smile in response to her brother’s praise. “I won’t forget. I’ll also probably watch some videos tonight and learn more before I actually try it. I’d quite like to keep my face the way it is, so more knowledge is better.” She tossed the key back to Sean and eyed him with a raised brow. “You don’t want to go shopping, I know you. I’ll just go with Jamie tomorrow morning, it’s been a while since we had a bestie date.” Selena offered, giving her brother a perfect out. “Though, I’d love to do something else with you! Maybe we could go somewhere good to eat? If we stay here, Mom’ll try to push more health foods on us, and I could pretty much kill for a cheeseburger right now.” Yes, you heard right. The Sterling’s eldest daughter preferred greasy goodness to the stereotypical valley girl salads and quinoa.
Sean’s hand whipped up and snatched the key out of the air after they were thrown his way. “That sounds infinitely better than any other possible option.” Sean said in immediate agreement after Selena suggested that he sit out the shopping trip. Whatever it took to keep him out of a store was a good deal as far as he was concerned. When she suggested leaving to eat, Sean’s eyebrow raised slightly, and he thought about it a moment, before making a suggestion. “I heard some people who looked like they know about food mention a place called the Sunshine Diner. But…”
“We have to take the twins.”
Selena narrowed her eyes at her brother. He’d been back long enough to see how the twins acted around her. He knew what he was asking of her. “Fine. But... only because I know the milkshakes are ace there. You’ll drive, I have to text and make plans for tomorrow.” Selena said, kissing her brother on the cheek before heading inside to fetch the hellions. Sean would prefer to drive anyway, lest he be caught in her pink monstrosity again. Plus, she’d be loathe to let the twins touch her car’s pristine leather interior.
Hello! Lovely invited me, I'm Silent!
A @Silent Observer & @smarty0114 Collaboration
Featuring: Dixon & Noah & Lucas
Location: School → The Hardy-Piccoli Manor
TGIF. Yesterday’s research session had gone better than expected, and now, JD had a plan. He had… half of a plan. Fuck it, he had an idea, okay? The idea was that he was going to invite Noah over to his house tonight. It was a friday, which meant they could stay up late playing video games or watching movies or whatever they felt like doing. Katie thought that he and Noah would get along, and Dixon didn’t have too many friends that were close to his own age, so he really wanted to make it work. How exactly the night would go, and how he would apologize for yelling at Noah on Tuesday… well, he had yet to fully formulate that plan. Admitting fault wasn’t something that he was used to. There were a lot of things surrounding Noah that JD wasn’t used to.
Over breakfast, the green-haired boy informed his parents that he would be having a friend over tonight, and they didn’t really give two shits. All the more reason to get a couple of additional chinese take out entrees, which was always a good thing. Following this discussion, JD gave them the rundown to try to tone it down, because this was a new friend, and he seemed kind of like a normie, and the last thing JD wanted was for his freakish parents to scare him off. During lunch at school, Dixon had sat by Noah and asked if he wanted to hang out at his house after school. He agreed, more quickly than JD had expected. So now, it was just after the final bell ring, and it was about time to get on the bus. As promised, Dixon arrived by Noah’s locker to meet up. “Hey… you good?”
Noah was in fact, not good at all. He had no idea what had possessed him to agree to go over to JD’s house, but now he felt like his stomach was eating itself from nervousness. He was far too weird to be going over to people’s houses! He couldn’t play normal that long! He could hardly do it for the seven hours he was at school! Despite this personal turmoil, Noah put on a smile when JD came by his locker. “Yeah! Are you good?” Noah asked, his tone treading the line of playful and defensive.
Dixon raised his eyebrow curiously, which could not really be seen from behind the verdant curtain of emo fringe. What was that supposed to mean? He was just trying to ask Noah if he was ready to go. JD shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. We’re gonna take the bus, ‘kay?” He didn’t wait for Noah’s answer, he just started walking. The bus was an intentional choice on his part, he needed to give Noah a pep talk about his parents… and he couldn’t do that if his parents were giving them a ride to his house. So… schoolbus it was.
“So… uh… before we get to my house, there’s something I have to tell you.” JD said cryptically as they took their seat on the bus.
Noah looked over at JD. “Are your parents like, vampires or something?” Noah grinned lightheartedly and awaited a response. Hopefully he hadn’t been right. Vampires were decidedly uncool. Although, vampirism might explain the hair…
“Is that going to be a problem?” Dixon responded in an entirely serious tone, meeting Noah’s eyes. After a few long, awkward moments of silence, he cracked up laughing. “Nah… not at this time of the year, at least.” Halloween, though? Now that was a whole damned production in the Piccoli household. “But… I mean, you’re kind of close to what I was getting at. Uh, do you know who my parents are?” It was possible that Katie had told him, and Dixon himself didn’t really keep it hidden. “Do you listen to emo music at all?”
Noah shrugged. Should he know who his parents were? “Like old emo? Like Fall Out Boy and stuff? I mean, yeah a bit,” Noah replied with nonchalance. “Why does that have anything to with your parents?”
“They’re both members of Deciduous Dreams. My mom’s the drummer and my dad’s the lead guitarist. It’s how they met.” Dixon explained nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just state that his parents were bonafide celebrities. “But… that’s not what I had to tell you, though, it might explain a bit…” JD mused and then shrugged. “Anyway, so, I’m sure you probably think I look a little weird, but… they’re weirder. Like, the whole house is a bit weird. It’s very… us, though. Just, try not to be intimidated by them, because they kind of like to fuck with people, and I have no idea what they’re going to do meeting a new person. I don’t really bring new people around that often.” This pep talk wasn’t really going as planned. JD was starting to feel like maybe he was making things worse.
Oh. They were just famous. That was normal. “Dude, weird is like, so normal. Plus, they’re famous, so they’re not weird, they’re eccentric. That’s what Katie’s mom says,” Noah said with a grin. Famous and weird? Better than JD thinking Noah was weird and wanting him gone. Much better.
“Yeah…” JD trailed off as he looked out the window of the bus, traversing the familiar streets towards his home. “Eccentric... we’ll go with that.” They chatted a little about music while they waited to get to their destination, which was a topic that a pair of emos could talk about for ages. Eventually, the bus came to a stop, not at a house, but by a gate. A huge wrought iron gate. Like a fucking cemetery or some shit. “So… this is it.” Dixon said as he stood up and the two of them shuffled off the bus. The gate had an ornate looking sign that read “The Hardy-Piccoli Manor” in old timey gothic script. There was a camera hidden in the stonework at the side of the gate, towards which JD held up a middle finger and stuck his tongue out. The facial recognition registered the face of the only Piccoli child, and the gates opened with an ominous creak.
“You’re into art, so you might think the house is kinda cool, actually.” The ‘house’ he mentioned, was more accurately described as a castle. A long cobblestone path, just barely wide enough for a single vehicle and lined with beautiful shrubbery and landscaping, ended at a circle in front an enormous stonework home. With gothic architecture and stained glass windows, it looked more like a grand old church, or something that you would see in a european history book, rather than a home in modern day southern california. “Before you ask, I swear, it has plumbing. And high speed internet. It only looks really old.”
Noah grinned, both at the friggin’ castle and at JD’s joke. How could he say that he was just happy that JD still wanted to talk to him after the events of Tuesday night? How could he describe the feeling that had engulfed him in the wake of that incident, that sense of drowning when your miles from water? “I like you, and so I’m sure I’ll like your house,” Noah said. “Like, I like you as a person. Not like...like like. Like you’re fun to hang out with,” Noah said, chuckling nervously, his face nearing crimson territory.
“Oh.” That… hurt? Why did that feel like it hurt? Noah had been blushing, so maybe didn't mean what he said. But why did Dixon care so much if he meant it? Worried that he was stumbling on this for too long, JD finally responded. “Yeah. Same, that’s why I, uh, invited you over.” He attempted a smile and kept walking down the path, his fists balled in the pockets of his black hoodie. They eventually made it to the front door, which was surprisingly easy to open for the size of it. JD kicked off his shoes at the entrance and looked over to Noah. “You want anything to drink? Or a snack?” He asked, leading the way to the kitchen. The main hallway of the home was decked out with gothic furnishings, candelabras with actual candles in them, and quite a few original paintings that were as eerie as they were valuable.
Noah took off his shoes and set them neatly next to JD’s before taking a moment to look around in awe. “I’m...good...are these original?” he asked, walking over to look at one of the many paintings that adorned the walls. “They’re like, wicked cool,” he said, all thoughts of his and JD’s tumultuous status thrown out by his instinctual need to examine art wherever he could.
“Hm?” Dixon replied in a quiet hum, turning around to look back at Noah. The boy had gotten distracted by one of the paintings in the hallway. That was no surprise, his parents hung some of their favorite — and most expensive — pieces in the main hall. It was also not a surprise, given Noah’s hobbies. “Oh, yeah, they all are. Mom and Dad are big into art, they pretty much get something shipped to the house everytime they go on tour to a new country. Some of it’s local, we go to art festivals and stuff sometimes. But, I think that one is from… France?” JD said before he continued his walk to the kitchen to get himself a glass of juice before they headed upstairs. “My favorite is up in the hall by my room, I’ll show you on the way.” He called out from the kitchen. His parents were… mysteriously quiet, and nowhere to be seen thus far.
Mention of JD’s room snapped Noah out of his art loving haze. Why was he so shocked? Did he think they’d be hanging out in the kitchen the entire time? He wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting, but bedroom? Not it. Bedrooms were private spaces, where you were the most you, at least in Noah’s opinion, and JD was letting him into his? “Lead the way,” Noah said, chuckling nervously.
“Well duh, I kinda have to lead the way.” Dixon said sarcastically as he returned to Noah in the hallway, a glass of dark red liquid in hand. It sort of looked exactly like a glass of blood, funnily enough, supporting Noah’s vampire theory. It was just cherry pomegranate juice though, JD’s absolute favorite. He smirked to show that he was, in fact, just kidding. Saying mean shit was in his blood, it’s how Piccoli’s show affection towards their friends and family. With that said, Dixon lead the way up a spiral staircase that has black and white marble slabs for steps, getting off at the second floor. There was a third floor above them, but it mostly went unused outside of the holidays, as it was for guests.
JD stopped in front of a painting. It was brighter than most of the other pieces in the manor, but the theme was still macabre. It was a skull, decorated with intricate designs in a rainbow of colors, surrounded by flowers and candles. “This is the one. My favorite. My parents brought it back from Mexico, they were there during Día de los Muertos a few years ago. Isn’t it awesome?” Dixon looked to his new artist friend for a critique. If Noah were to ask why it was his favorite, he probably wouldn’t be able to explain it. It just made him feel… something.
“Woah,” Noah said softly, his eyes trained on the artwork that hung in front of him. He loved it! The colors, the brushwork, everything about it was so beautiful! “I love it! It’s way better than anything I could do!” Noah said. “The designs on the skull are so detailed! This must’ve taken hours!” Noah took another look at the painting, admiring the time and effort that must have gone into it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to sell something like that. How could you let something so beautiful out of your sight?
Dixon smiled at the positive review. Trusting Noah as a subject expert on the matter, this must mean that JD had good taste in art. After a few moments of quietly admiring his favorite painting, Dixon stepped away and headed towards his room. It was more than just a bedroom, it also boasted a large walk-in closet and an ensuite bathroom. The bedroom itself was big enough to not only have a sleeping area with a queen size bed, but also a living area with a flat screen TV, multiple gaming systems, and a big comfy couch. There was also a corner of the room dedicated to all of his stringed instruments, displayed openly as if they themselves were art. The walls were a bright blue, at least what you could see of the walls through all of the band posters and music paraphernalia covering them, and the most notable accent color was black. There was a lot of black, and some gray, which was really just light black.
“So, what do you want to do? I’ve got tons of movies, or we could stream something if I don’t have it… and, of course, there are all kinds of video games.” He asked, dropping his backpack to the floor by his desk before going to sit on the couch. There was an excited meow from the chair in the corner, as Dixon’s gray and white cat woke up from a nap and arched its back. It was about to jump down and join Dixon on the couch when it identified the stranger in the room, and stopped to stare at him very intensely.
Noah stared down the cat for a moment, offering out a hand that the animal glanced at before hopping down from the couch, bored with Noah. The artist shrugged, and proceeded to look around the room, drinking up everything that was JD, before sitting down on the couch. The band posters, the furniture, the instruments, they all told him something different about this mysterious, radioactive boy. “You’re room is huge!” he exclaimed, his mouth forming an O of awe. “We can play a video game? I’m not very good though, just a warning,” Noah said, smirking.
“That’s fine, I’ll go easy on you.” JD said with a playful smile. He got up from the couch and went to fetch a pair of controllers. Whatever the last game he had been playing would be what they would play. It was probably some form of Call of Duty. He sat back down on the couch, and turned on the TV. Before actually starting the game, however, he looked over to Noah. Feeling incredibly nervous, Dixon subconsciously began to chew at his lip ring. Despite what Noah had said earlier about not ‘like’ liking him, JD remembered what Jareth had said about taking risks, and also about apologizing. “There’s… something I wanted to say first. I’m sorry I yelled at you the other night, when you… touched my hair. It’s just…” Fuck, this was hard. Dixon broke eye contact momentarily for the next part, “You can do it again, if you want. I promise I won’t yell.”
Sirens wailed in Noah’s head. Was this happening? What did that even mean? “You can do it again, if you want.” What? What? What? Blushing furiously, Noah looked down at the couch, unsure of what to do. After what felt like centuries of silence and sexual tension, Noah reached out and brushed JD’s hair out of his eyes, and brought his head up to meet them, his skin still crimson.
Dixon braced himself following his own invitation, remembering what had happened last time. Bracing himself didn’t work though, it only served to turn his stomach into one huge knot. It happened again, just like electricity was running through his skin. The hair on his arms rose up in goosebumps and shudders ran from the hair that Noah touched, all the way down his spine. He couldn’t yell again, he promised he wouldn’t, but he had to do something about this. It felt like he was going to explode. Without thinking it through, or even thinking at all, JD leaned forward and pressed his lips against Noah’s.
Oh... shit. Dixon’s head spun. This wasn’t his first kiss, but it felt like it. He’d never been so terrified before. Nothing scared Johnny Dixon, not until right this moment. He pulled his lips away fractionally, wondering if this was even okay. What if Noah was telling the truth and didn’t like him?
Noah blinked. Once. Twice. His mouth was frozen, lips parted as if JD’s were still pressed against them. His whole body tingled with the remnants of the kiss, the amazingly perfect first kiss. After a moment, Noah came to his senses, and saw JD, less than an inch from him, so close he could smell the intoxicating mixture of deodorant and body spray that had taunted him since he’d met this boy. Without any warning, Noah bridged the gap, locking his lips against JD’s, sending sparks throughout his body, turning him inside out.
Instinctively, JD dropped the controller he had been holding and instead brought his hand up to Noah’s neck to pull him closer. The other boy’s hands were still tangled in his hair, sending waves of desire and uncontrollable hormones through Dixon’s whole body. This felt so incredibly good, he didn’t want it to ever stop. Wrapped up in the passion and lust, JD didn’t hear them… footsteps coming up the stairs. He didn’t hear them until they were right outside his door. Like he’d been electrocuted, Dixon shot up from the couch, feeling himself lose a few strands of hair in untangling himself from Noah so quickly.
In the doorway stood a short, tattoo-covered punk of a man. Lucas had his mouth open to speak, but paused to take in this awkward scene. This strange boy, on his son’s couch. His son, standing up with very distinct sex hair. The TV being stuck on a game intro screen. Luke looked suspiciously from the strange “new friend”, over to Dixon, squinting knowingly. “Spawn. New friend.” He greeted curtly to both before turning his gaze entirely on his son. “Get your asses downstairs and pick out what chinese you want. Your mom’s being a cranky bitch because she’s hangry. Like, real bad, might turn into a praying mantis situation.”
Dixon, recovering from the shock of almost being caught in the act of kissing a boy, glared quizzically at his father. “A what?”
“Praying mantis’, kid. The chicks bite their mates’ heads off after they fuck, it’s totally metal.” Luke said with a chuckle and turned to head back downstairs, slapping the doorframe on his way out.
“Eww.” Dixon responded with a sigh. Well, that explained why his parents were nowhere to be found when they got there.
Noah stayed seated on the couch, blushing even more than he had been before. He had really almost been caught kissing JD, by JD’s fucking parents, who by the way, were vampires. Noah was sure of that after seeing his dad. Standing up after a moment, he remained silent, looking at JD with a look of pure mortification. He wished he were a praying mantis right now so something could bite his head off.
Now that his dad was gone, Dixon looked back at Noah for the first time since they kissed. “You lied.” Dixon said in a stern, accusatory manner. He then flicked his head so most of his hair flew back into place. Messy, but intentionally messy, just how he liked it. Letting go of the stern countenance, the corner of his mouth lifted up in a flirtatious smirk as he held a finger to his lips. The message was clear — pretend like this never happened.
Over breakfast, the green-haired boy informed his parents that he would be having a friend over tonight, and they didn’t really give two shits. All the more reason to get a couple of additional chinese take out entrees, which was always a good thing. Following this discussion, JD gave them the rundown to try to tone it down, because this was a new friend, and he seemed kind of like a normie, and the last thing JD wanted was for his freakish parents to scare him off. During lunch at school, Dixon had sat by Noah and asked if he wanted to hang out at his house after school. He agreed, more quickly than JD had expected. So now, it was just after the final bell ring, and it was about time to get on the bus. As promised, Dixon arrived by Noah’s locker to meet up. “Hey… you good?”
Noah was in fact, not good at all. He had no idea what had possessed him to agree to go over to JD’s house, but now he felt like his stomach was eating itself from nervousness. He was far too weird to be going over to people’s houses! He couldn’t play normal that long! He could hardly do it for the seven hours he was at school! Despite this personal turmoil, Noah put on a smile when JD came by his locker. “Yeah! Are you good?” Noah asked, his tone treading the line of playful and defensive.
Dixon raised his eyebrow curiously, which could not really be seen from behind the verdant curtain of emo fringe. What was that supposed to mean? He was just trying to ask Noah if he was ready to go. JD shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. We’re gonna take the bus, ‘kay?” He didn’t wait for Noah’s answer, he just started walking. The bus was an intentional choice on his part, he needed to give Noah a pep talk about his parents… and he couldn’t do that if his parents were giving them a ride to his house. So… schoolbus it was.
“So… uh… before we get to my house, there’s something I have to tell you.” JD said cryptically as they took their seat on the bus.
Noah looked over at JD. “Are your parents like, vampires or something?” Noah grinned lightheartedly and awaited a response. Hopefully he hadn’t been right. Vampires were decidedly uncool. Although, vampirism might explain the hair…
“Is that going to be a problem?” Dixon responded in an entirely serious tone, meeting Noah’s eyes. After a few long, awkward moments of silence, he cracked up laughing. “Nah… not at this time of the year, at least.” Halloween, though? Now that was a whole damned production in the Piccoli household. “But… I mean, you’re kind of close to what I was getting at. Uh, do you know who my parents are?” It was possible that Katie had told him, and Dixon himself didn’t really keep it hidden. “Do you listen to emo music at all?”
Noah shrugged. Should he know who his parents were? “Like old emo? Like Fall Out Boy and stuff? I mean, yeah a bit,” Noah replied with nonchalance. “Why does that have anything to with your parents?”
“They’re both members of Deciduous Dreams. My mom’s the drummer and my dad’s the lead guitarist. It’s how they met.” Dixon explained nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just state that his parents were bonafide celebrities. “But… that’s not what I had to tell you, though, it might explain a bit…” JD mused and then shrugged. “Anyway, so, I’m sure you probably think I look a little weird, but… they’re weirder. Like, the whole house is a bit weird. It’s very… us, though. Just, try not to be intimidated by them, because they kind of like to fuck with people, and I have no idea what they’re going to do meeting a new person. I don’t really bring new people around that often.” This pep talk wasn’t really going as planned. JD was starting to feel like maybe he was making things worse.
Oh. They were just famous. That was normal. “Dude, weird is like, so normal. Plus, they’re famous, so they’re not weird, they’re eccentric. That’s what Katie’s mom says,” Noah said with a grin. Famous and weird? Better than JD thinking Noah was weird and wanting him gone. Much better.
“Yeah…” JD trailed off as he looked out the window of the bus, traversing the familiar streets towards his home. “Eccentric... we’ll go with that.” They chatted a little about music while they waited to get to their destination, which was a topic that a pair of emos could talk about for ages. Eventually, the bus came to a stop, not at a house, but by a gate. A huge wrought iron gate. Like a fucking cemetery or some shit. “So… this is it.” Dixon said as he stood up and the two of them shuffled off the bus. The gate had an ornate looking sign that read “The Hardy-Piccoli Manor” in old timey gothic script. There was a camera hidden in the stonework at the side of the gate, towards which JD held up a middle finger and stuck his tongue out. The facial recognition registered the face of the only Piccoli child, and the gates opened with an ominous creak.
“You’re into art, so you might think the house is kinda cool, actually.” The ‘house’ he mentioned, was more accurately described as a castle. A long cobblestone path, just barely wide enough for a single vehicle and lined with beautiful shrubbery and landscaping, ended at a circle in front an enormous stonework home. With gothic architecture and stained glass windows, it looked more like a grand old church, or something that you would see in a european history book, rather than a home in modern day southern california. “Before you ask, I swear, it has plumbing. And high speed internet. It only looks really old.”
Noah grinned, both at the friggin’ castle and at JD’s joke. How could he say that he was just happy that JD still wanted to talk to him after the events of Tuesday night? How could he describe the feeling that had engulfed him in the wake of that incident, that sense of drowning when your miles from water? “I like you, and so I’m sure I’ll like your house,” Noah said. “Like, I like you as a person. Not like...like like. Like you’re fun to hang out with,” Noah said, chuckling nervously, his face nearing crimson territory.
“Oh.” That… hurt? Why did that feel like it hurt? Noah had been blushing, so maybe didn't mean what he said. But why did Dixon care so much if he meant it? Worried that he was stumbling on this for too long, JD finally responded. “Yeah. Same, that’s why I, uh, invited you over.” He attempted a smile and kept walking down the path, his fists balled in the pockets of his black hoodie. They eventually made it to the front door, which was surprisingly easy to open for the size of it. JD kicked off his shoes at the entrance and looked over to Noah. “You want anything to drink? Or a snack?” He asked, leading the way to the kitchen. The main hallway of the home was decked out with gothic furnishings, candelabras with actual candles in them, and quite a few original paintings that were as eerie as they were valuable.
Noah took off his shoes and set them neatly next to JD’s before taking a moment to look around in awe. “I’m...good...are these original?” he asked, walking over to look at one of the many paintings that adorned the walls. “They’re like, wicked cool,” he said, all thoughts of his and JD’s tumultuous status thrown out by his instinctual need to examine art wherever he could.
“Hm?” Dixon replied in a quiet hum, turning around to look back at Noah. The boy had gotten distracted by one of the paintings in the hallway. That was no surprise, his parents hung some of their favorite — and most expensive — pieces in the main hall. It was also not a surprise, given Noah’s hobbies. “Oh, yeah, they all are. Mom and Dad are big into art, they pretty much get something shipped to the house everytime they go on tour to a new country. Some of it’s local, we go to art festivals and stuff sometimes. But, I think that one is from… France?” JD said before he continued his walk to the kitchen to get himself a glass of juice before they headed upstairs. “My favorite is up in the hall by my room, I’ll show you on the way.” He called out from the kitchen. His parents were… mysteriously quiet, and nowhere to be seen thus far.
Mention of JD’s room snapped Noah out of his art loving haze. Why was he so shocked? Did he think they’d be hanging out in the kitchen the entire time? He wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting, but bedroom? Not it. Bedrooms were private spaces, where you were the most you, at least in Noah’s opinion, and JD was letting him into his? “Lead the way,” Noah said, chuckling nervously.
“Well duh, I kinda have to lead the way.” Dixon said sarcastically as he returned to Noah in the hallway, a glass of dark red liquid in hand. It sort of looked exactly like a glass of blood, funnily enough, supporting Noah’s vampire theory. It was just cherry pomegranate juice though, JD’s absolute favorite. He smirked to show that he was, in fact, just kidding. Saying mean shit was in his blood, it’s how Piccoli’s show affection towards their friends and family. With that said, Dixon lead the way up a spiral staircase that has black and white marble slabs for steps, getting off at the second floor. There was a third floor above them, but it mostly went unused outside of the holidays, as it was for guests.
JD stopped in front of a painting. It was brighter than most of the other pieces in the manor, but the theme was still macabre. It was a skull, decorated with intricate designs in a rainbow of colors, surrounded by flowers and candles. “This is the one. My favorite. My parents brought it back from Mexico, they were there during Día de los Muertos a few years ago. Isn’t it awesome?” Dixon looked to his new artist friend for a critique. If Noah were to ask why it was his favorite, he probably wouldn’t be able to explain it. It just made him feel… something.
“Woah,” Noah said softly, his eyes trained on the artwork that hung in front of him. He loved it! The colors, the brushwork, everything about it was so beautiful! “I love it! It’s way better than anything I could do!” Noah said. “The designs on the skull are so detailed! This must’ve taken hours!” Noah took another look at the painting, admiring the time and effort that must have gone into it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to sell something like that. How could you let something so beautiful out of your sight?
Dixon smiled at the positive review. Trusting Noah as a subject expert on the matter, this must mean that JD had good taste in art. After a few moments of quietly admiring his favorite painting, Dixon stepped away and headed towards his room. It was more than just a bedroom, it also boasted a large walk-in closet and an ensuite bathroom. The bedroom itself was big enough to not only have a sleeping area with a queen size bed, but also a living area with a flat screen TV, multiple gaming systems, and a big comfy couch. There was also a corner of the room dedicated to all of his stringed instruments, displayed openly as if they themselves were art. The walls were a bright blue, at least what you could see of the walls through all of the band posters and music paraphernalia covering them, and the most notable accent color was black. There was a lot of black, and some gray, which was really just light black.
“So, what do you want to do? I’ve got tons of movies, or we could stream something if I don’t have it… and, of course, there are all kinds of video games.” He asked, dropping his backpack to the floor by his desk before going to sit on the couch. There was an excited meow from the chair in the corner, as Dixon’s gray and white cat woke up from a nap and arched its back. It was about to jump down and join Dixon on the couch when it identified the stranger in the room, and stopped to stare at him very intensely.
Noah stared down the cat for a moment, offering out a hand that the animal glanced at before hopping down from the couch, bored with Noah. The artist shrugged, and proceeded to look around the room, drinking up everything that was JD, before sitting down on the couch. The band posters, the furniture, the instruments, they all told him something different about this mysterious, radioactive boy. “You’re room is huge!” he exclaimed, his mouth forming an O of awe. “We can play a video game? I’m not very good though, just a warning,” Noah said, smirking.
“That’s fine, I’ll go easy on you.” JD said with a playful smile. He got up from the couch and went to fetch a pair of controllers. Whatever the last game he had been playing would be what they would play. It was probably some form of Call of Duty. He sat back down on the couch, and turned on the TV. Before actually starting the game, however, he looked over to Noah. Feeling incredibly nervous, Dixon subconsciously began to chew at his lip ring. Despite what Noah had said earlier about not ‘like’ liking him, JD remembered what Jareth had said about taking risks, and also about apologizing. “There’s… something I wanted to say first. I’m sorry I yelled at you the other night, when you… touched my hair. It’s just…” Fuck, this was hard. Dixon broke eye contact momentarily for the next part, “You can do it again, if you want. I promise I won’t yell.”
Sirens wailed in Noah’s head. Was this happening? What did that even mean? “You can do it again, if you want.” What? What? What? Blushing furiously, Noah looked down at the couch, unsure of what to do. After what felt like centuries of silence and sexual tension, Noah reached out and brushed JD’s hair out of his eyes, and brought his head up to meet them, his skin still crimson.
Dixon braced himself following his own invitation, remembering what had happened last time. Bracing himself didn’t work though, it only served to turn his stomach into one huge knot. It happened again, just like electricity was running through his skin. The hair on his arms rose up in goosebumps and shudders ran from the hair that Noah touched, all the way down his spine. He couldn’t yell again, he promised he wouldn’t, but he had to do something about this. It felt like he was going to explode. Without thinking it through, or even thinking at all, JD leaned forward and pressed his lips against Noah’s.
Oh... shit. Dixon’s head spun. This wasn’t his first kiss, but it felt like it. He’d never been so terrified before. Nothing scared Johnny Dixon, not until right this moment. He pulled his lips away fractionally, wondering if this was even okay. What if Noah was telling the truth and didn’t like him?
Noah blinked. Once. Twice. His mouth was frozen, lips parted as if JD’s were still pressed against them. His whole body tingled with the remnants of the kiss, the amazingly perfect first kiss. After a moment, Noah came to his senses, and saw JD, less than an inch from him, so close he could smell the intoxicating mixture of deodorant and body spray that had taunted him since he’d met this boy. Without any warning, Noah bridged the gap, locking his lips against JD’s, sending sparks throughout his body, turning him inside out.
Instinctively, JD dropped the controller he had been holding and instead brought his hand up to Noah’s neck to pull him closer. The other boy’s hands were still tangled in his hair, sending waves of desire and uncontrollable hormones through Dixon’s whole body. This felt so incredibly good, he didn’t want it to ever stop. Wrapped up in the passion and lust, JD didn’t hear them… footsteps coming up the stairs. He didn’t hear them until they were right outside his door. Like he’d been electrocuted, Dixon shot up from the couch, feeling himself lose a few strands of hair in untangling himself from Noah so quickly.
In the doorway stood a short, tattoo-covered punk of a man. Lucas had his mouth open to speak, but paused to take in this awkward scene. This strange boy, on his son’s couch. His son, standing up with very distinct sex hair. The TV being stuck on a game intro screen. Luke looked suspiciously from the strange “new friend”, over to Dixon, squinting knowingly. “Spawn. New friend.” He greeted curtly to both before turning his gaze entirely on his son. “Get your asses downstairs and pick out what chinese you want. Your mom’s being a cranky bitch because she’s hangry. Like, real bad, might turn into a praying mantis situation.”
Dixon, recovering from the shock of almost being caught in the act of kissing a boy, glared quizzically at his father. “A what?”
“Praying mantis’, kid. The chicks bite their mates’ heads off after they fuck, it’s totally metal.” Luke said with a chuckle and turned to head back downstairs, slapping the doorframe on his way out.
“Eww.” Dixon responded with a sigh. Well, that explained why his parents were nowhere to be found when they got there.
Noah stayed seated on the couch, blushing even more than he had been before. He had really almost been caught kissing JD, by JD’s fucking parents, who by the way, were vampires. Noah was sure of that after seeing his dad. Standing up after a moment, he remained silent, looking at JD with a look of pure mortification. He wished he were a praying mantis right now so something could bite his head off.
Now that his dad was gone, Dixon looked back at Noah for the first time since they kissed. “You lied.” Dixon said in a stern, accusatory manner. He then flicked his head so most of his hair flew back into place. Messy, but intentionally messy, just how he liked it. Letting go of the stern countenance, the corner of his mouth lifted up in a flirtatious smirk as he held a finger to his lips. The message was clear — pretend like this never happened.
Collab with @Lovely Complex
Flashback to Thursday night
Introducing JD's parents Lucas & Regina Piccoli
Flashback to Thursday night
Introducing JD's parents Lucas & Regina Piccoli
Thursday night, like most other nights for Dixon, was spent having dinner and hanging out at the Wells’. Remy, as per usual, had outdone himself with dinner. The house full of boys had eaten pot roast with enough home-grown herbs and vegetable fixings to serve an army, served over a bed of fresh homemade pasta. They even had pie for dessert! Currently, JD and Trevor were gaming through their food comas on the living room sectional. After the end of a round in today’s shooter of choice, Dixon set down the controller. “It’s been fun, bro, but I’m gonna start packing to go home. My mom’ll be here soon.” He said to Trevor, who nodded in response and said something snarky about him needing to work on his aim.
JD grabbed his emptied juice glass from the end table and headed towards the kitchen. Remy was in there, humming along to some song in his head as he washed the pans from making dinner. Dixon politely put his cup in the dishwasher. He looked over to Rem and chewed at his left lip ring, deeply debating his next move. It was just the two of them, and there was something he’d been meaning to ask his parents about. All four of them. Well... here goes nothing. “Hey, DadWells, can I ask you somethin’?”
For a brief instant, Remy was caught in his mind, replaying moments when he was younger, with his husband. Moments when this song was becoming their life. This song meant the world to the chef and no matter the day, no matter the time, no matter the circumstances, this was his reminder that Jareth was his. All his. No one could take that away from him. Remy loved him when they were kids and Remy still loved him, just as much and more, as working adults with a family to take care of.
Absentmindedly, his hand scrubbed a pan in circular motions. He had been cleaning the same spot for about a minute now. When he heard a familiar voice, Remy reluctantly paused the song in his head. Looking over his shoulder, the loving father responded with a simple, “Hm?” Which everyone knew was: yes, of course you can.
“Uh…” Dixon responded rather unintelligently. What came next? He hadn’t planned this far. He licked at his left lip ring again. Leaning his back up against the counter beside Remy, he crossed his arms over his chest, subconsciously creating an emotional barrier. He was, after all, his biological parents’ son. “I wanted to ask like, you and PopWells, how did you know that you loved him? Was there a big moment, or did it happen over time?” He asked very seriously, as if he was conducting research. If he was asked, that is what his cover story would be.
Remy didn’t expect that. Placing both the pan and sponge down, DadWells reached for a hand towel, turned his attention towards JD, and wiped his hands. “Any reason you’re asking?” The blond man’s eyebrow curved up in curiosity. Of course Remy would inquire about the reasoning behind this before he rambled on about his love life.
“Yeah.” Dixon responded quickly and confidently. “It’s for school. Freshman health class has us doing a project on healthy relationships, I guess because they don’t want us being slutty teenagers or whatever. Anyway, you guys are like the most in love people I know, ‘sides my parents, but I’ll be talking to them too. But I mean, if I’m being real, you and PopWells seem way more in love.” JD’s blatant lie was sandwiched between truths, which made it come out smoothly. Hey, he wasn’t so bad at acting. Who knew that there was more to him than violence and violas?
Even if he was terribly bad at lying, Remy was a gullible man and believed nearly anything unless it was coming out of Riley’s mouth. Excitedly, he threw the hand towel on the counter and clasped his hands together, so happy someone was curious of his love story, “It all started with a pencil. Jareth was the new transfer and kept to himself. When someone would try to break through his barriers, he would lash out. But when I gave him my pencil, and used a crayon for our math test instead, I knew he’d be my best friend. For life. What I didn’t realize was I was super into him even before then and our relationship just kind of escalated.... we kept getting closer and closer, and I fell more and more madly in love with him, Before we even became close, I stopped him from beating some kid to a bloody pulp and I guess he felt bad for yelling at me so he said hey, let’s be friends. I was way into him before he even was into me. I even made my dating sims characters look like him… maybe I was in denial. Just a little bit. That is until I started getting jealous. Very jealous. I broke and decided to confess to him. He broke my heart. It got really awkward after that because by then I had come to terms I was totally gay, for him and only him, but he was still battling his own demons of liking me. After I avoided him like the damn plague, too embarrassed to face him, because well, it sucks, being rejected by the only person you’ve ever had eyes for… he came to me and he wrote me a song. The feelings were mutual. Finally. The rest is history!”
“Wait, he yelled at you?” JD asked in shock. The parallels in that story and how Tuesday night’s party had gone made him feel a little uncomfortable. Or maybe just nervous about what it could mean. He shifted his weight from one heel to the other. “I didn’t know he yelled, aside from with, like, in the band and stuff. Huh. So… how did he apologize for that?” This question was a little more personal, and Dixon, unbeknownst to him, was losing his researcher persona a bit. Instead, he was just a young high schooler looking for advice. He had someone to apologize to too, and he had know idea how to go about it.
With the best Jareth impression anyone could do, Remy used his middle finger to push his imaginary long emo hair to the side and looked at JD as if he were, well, him, “Thanks for stopping me from beating that kid up…” Subtlety and unintentionally, Remy’s arm touched JD’s, like Jar’s had many years ago, “I probably would’ve gotten suspended and sent back, so…” Two blinks. His eyes smiling, but not his lips. “Thanks. And…” Looking away from JD, trying his best to keep his cool, he muttered, “Sorry for yelling at you.”
Dixon cracked up laughing at Remy’s impersonation. It was so very… edgelord. “Oh man, I could like, feel the awkward. Shit, that’s golden.” JD giggled again. “Thanks, DadWells, that was helpful. Off to interviewee number two now, dinner was great if I don’t see you again before Ma gets here. Thanks!” Dixon said before heading off down to the studio, where he assumed Jareth would be.
“Hey,” JD greeted from the doorway of the studio, which the majority of the basement of the Wells household had been converted to. Inside, Jareth was sitting at his work desk, scribbling out something on a sheet of paper. The front man of Deciduous Dreams looked up from his task and gave the young boy a half smile.
“Hey Dixon, what’s up?” Jar asked.
“Are you busy?” JD responded to the question with another question, still standing in the doorway.
“Nah, just working through some lyrics. And running ideas by your dad, actually. Come on in.”
Dixon stepped through the threshold to the musician’s domain. This was the room where some real magic happened. It was like walking into an emo holy place. “I was just talking to DadWells about one of my school projects, and I was looking to hear your thoughts on it.”
“Oh, alright…” Jareth said, setting his pencil down and giving Dixon his full attention. “I wasn’t really good at school, but shoot, what is it?”
“A health project on healthy relationships. To start, could you tell me about how you and DadWells fell in love?”
This wasn’t for any school project, this was a bold-faced lie. This was the kind of shit Jar would have pulled at age fourteen to hide from his feelings, so he saw right through JD’s charade. That being said, he went with it. He’d already failed one kid by not giving his advice when it was needed, he wasn’t about to let that happen again. “I was bad at that too.”
“Yeah… I mean, I heard Rem’s side of it. But what about yours, what happened?”
Jareth looked melancholic for a moment, but then a soft smile graced his lips. Their love story had a rocky beginning, but that only made them stronger in the long run. “For me, it started when Remy told me that he liked me. We were best friends for years before that day, but I had never thought about him like that until the option was laid out in front of me. And then, the option terrified me. First, there was the fact that I had to come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t straight, at least not as straight as I thought I was. Then, there was the fear of what coming out would mean. And finally, what if I took the option… and messed it up. What if I lost my best friend?”
Enraptured by his idol’s story, Dixon leaned forward. “How… how did you deal with all that?”
“Music.” Jar said simply. “I turned to my craft. Music had always helped me find myself in the past. When things felt dark and I felt lost, music lit my path. That’s what you have to do, you know? Healthy relationships start with healthy people, so you gotta work on you first… even if admitting previously unknown things about yourself is hard. And then, you have to be willing to take risks. Love is a gamble, but the jackpot is pretty fucking sweet.” Jareth laughed and smiled wistfully. “I was really bad with words back then, so I basically apologized for being an ass with a song. We musicians have an easy way out in that, I guess.”
“Yeah, I get that.” JD responded, nodding in agreement.
Jar sat back in his chair and put his arm around the back of it, his gaze locked on Dixon’s face. “So, who’s this really about?” He asked, letting the cat out of the bag that he knew.
“Wh-what?” The boy’s eyes shot wide, looking like a panicked deer.
“Chill… I’m not going to tell anybody, but I know this isn’t for a school project. So, who is it? Anybody I know?”
“...no.” Dixon said honestly, after a very long pause of contemplation.
“KIDDO! GET YOUR ASS UP HERE. YOUR FATHER IS FUCKING IMPATIENT.”
Oh, thank the non-existent gods. His mother was here to save the day! “Uh, gotta go! Thanks, Jar… for everything.” Jareth nodded with a warm smile before going back to his work, and the kid took off running upstairs.
Sin didn’t even fully go into the Wells’ estate. Instead her head was poking through the front door, “HI REMY, JARETH. BYE REMY, JARETH. TELL YOUR KIDS TO GET LAID. BYE.” Expecting her son to come upstairs and follow her, ‘Sin Hardy’, or more privately known as Regina Piccoli, went to her car. When her son was not out yet, she started honking impatiently. This here was the drummer of Deciduous Dreams, everybody, and the lovely mother of Johnny Dixon.
There was a thumping as Dixon marched up the steps to get to his mother. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder now and waved at all of the Wells’ on his way out. “Thanks guys, see you later. Sorry Ma yelled.” JD said as he shrugged the backpack more firmly onto his shoulder. After saying his goodbyes to the Wells household, he made his way to his mom’s car. “Why’s Dad being impatient?” Did JD forget about something important? He couldn’t remember any plans… then again, it didn’t take much to annoy Lucas.
“Oh, sweet child of mine, your dad is probably jerking off to something on TV. I just don’t like waiting. You know me!” Sin had kept her car running, so really, it was only a matter of taking the car off park and pressing the gas for them to speed towards their home. Sin may not be the most visibly compassionate, but she cherished the nights they were all together. Even with how she acted, she was probably the happiest mother alive. Her and her husband fight for shits and giggles, because it was their language of love, JD was growing up to be someone she was proud to have pushed out of her vagina, and honestly, she had nothing to complain about. Sex was good. House was spooky all year round. Kiddo continued to be a kid. What more could she possibly ask for?
“Gross.” Was JD’s simple, one-worded reply. He was used to that kind of talk though, this was his mom, after all. “Sorry I kept you waiting, I was talking to Jar in the studio, so I didn’t get your text. Service in the basement is shitty… probably from the soundproofing.” JD looked out the window and watched the street lights go by as they drove, strobing against the black night sky. “When we get home, there’s something I need to ask you and Dad about. For a school project, okay? Then maybe we can watch a movie, if it’s not too late.” JD suggested hopefully.
“Child, I ain’t even mad. Don’t apologize. Just be like, Ma, I’ll get to you when I get to you. I didn’t raise a fucking pushover.” Sharply, Sin turned left and before both of them knew it, and after simple chit chat about JD’s day, they found themselves entering the living room.
“SHORTIE, THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, WHEREFORE ART THOU?!” Sin knew exactly where he was. “Oh, there you are! Couldn’t see you for a sec.” Sarcasm, just what the doctor asked for. The feisty mother couldn’t help but tease her husband as she gazed at his handsome self on his man couch. HIS man couch. Taking it upon herself, the infamous cougar that swept her man off his feet jumped on top of his lap and kissed him ever so roughly.
Honey colored eyes glared from Lucas’ position on the couch, following Sin until she was on his lap. Deciduous Dreams’ lead guitarist’s face looked mean, but there was a smirk in his gaze as he leaned forward to kiss Sin back. “Wife.” He greeted shortly. “Spawn.” Luke said, looking to JD now. “Welcome home, I was just watching this here riveting show about… I don’t even remember. I was sleeping until you YELLED.” He said with his attention back on his wife.
“Hey, Dad.” Dixon said before plopping down on the other couch, dropping his backpack on the floor carelessly.
“Hey, listen, bitch. I expect you to be up to greet me when I come home, that’s what housewives are for.” Sin over exaggerated her eye roll, before she grinned and winked, “Know your place, turdface.” Lucas replied with a feigned gasp, as if that truly hurt.
JD rolled his eyes at his parents. “Okay, lovebirds, you can play fight after. I have an assignment, and you’re probably going to hate it, Dad, but that’s fine. You’ll live. Anyway, it’s a project about healthy relationships—”
“Hah!” Luke responded with a laugh. “You hear that, old lady? Healthy relationships.” Sin’s left eye twitched. It didn’t matter the year, ‘old lady’ always got under her skin.
“Riiight. So, weirdly enough, even though you are my parents, I actually don’t know how you guys stopped fighting long enough to become my parents.” Realizing what he’d just said, he held up a finger to silence any witty zingers to come. “PLEASE spare me the details, I neither need nor want that nightmare of a biology lesson. But, how did you guys actually like, fall in love and stuff?”
“I mean, long story short, we met at a bar, I called your dad shortstuff, he hated me for that, then he broke the jaw of my ex’s face when he tried to interrupt our conversation. From there, I knew we’d go into fucktown and never come back. Then you came along as a result!” Their love story was simple, yet it was their own. Luke was fucking hot when he beat the shit out of her unoriginal, thieving, full of STDs, motherfuckin’ ex. Yeah, that punch was enough to seal the deal and make her panties wet for days.
“Hey! He had that shit coming! What an ASSHAT. You really know how to pick ‘em, Reg.”
“You PUNCHED a dude and broke his jaw? You guys sent me to therapy for punching kids, and their noses only bled for like ten minutes, how is that even fair?!”
“Listen, kid, you didn’t know when it was the right time to punch people. Now the Doc and Troy are teaching you some discipline and all that, so you can be better than us. He was a real fucker though… he deserved it. What was it that he called you, anyway? I’m getting old, I can’t even remember the shit that triggered me…” Luke directed the question at his wife, scratching at the stubble on his chin in thought.
“That detail doesn’t even matter.” She had no clue. That time was way behind her, so knowing the fine details of their past was pointless. Plus, she was older than her husband. Her memory was twice as bad!
It was probably some slut shaming term or whatever. All JD needed to know was they were together and happy. “Just know when you’re older, if there’s fuckers, it’s okay to break their bones, but right now, you need to be a model citizen until we’re no longer liable for you. Got it?” Regina with her harsh, dark gaze, waited for her son’s response.
“Ehh…” Dixon shrugged. “We’ll see. You know what people say about apples and trees.” Momma didn’t raise a pushover, right? “Be right back, I’m going to bring my stuff upstairs and change into pajamas. Then movie night, Dad gets to pick this time.” JD said before scurrying off upstairs to his room.
Scoff. “I feel like you always pick.” Not true. She always picked. “Whatever, that’s not important right now. You know what is important?” Sin wrapped her hands around Luke’s neck, intertwining her fingers, while giving a smug look.
“What?” He asked, smirking back at his rockstar beauty. “Right now? We can’t, you heard the kid, it’s movie night. After, though…”
“No, dumbass!” Sin pinched her husband’s neck, ”You make it seem like I think about fucking you 24/7.” She did. “Our son has a crush.” Momma’s intuition never failed her. JD did come out of her twat, after all.
“That’s because you do — wait, what? How the hell do you know that?”
“I know everything. That’s why.”
JD grabbed his emptied juice glass from the end table and headed towards the kitchen. Remy was in there, humming along to some song in his head as he washed the pans from making dinner. Dixon politely put his cup in the dishwasher. He looked over to Rem and chewed at his left lip ring, deeply debating his next move. It was just the two of them, and there was something he’d been meaning to ask his parents about. All four of them. Well... here goes nothing. “Hey, DadWells, can I ask you somethin’?”
For a brief instant, Remy was caught in his mind, replaying moments when he was younger, with his husband. Moments when this song was becoming their life. This song meant the world to the chef and no matter the day, no matter the time, no matter the circumstances, this was his reminder that Jareth was his. All his. No one could take that away from him. Remy loved him when they were kids and Remy still loved him, just as much and more, as working adults with a family to take care of.
Absentmindedly, his hand scrubbed a pan in circular motions. He had been cleaning the same spot for about a minute now. When he heard a familiar voice, Remy reluctantly paused the song in his head. Looking over his shoulder, the loving father responded with a simple, “Hm?” Which everyone knew was: yes, of course you can.
“Uh…” Dixon responded rather unintelligently. What came next? He hadn’t planned this far. He licked at his left lip ring again. Leaning his back up against the counter beside Remy, he crossed his arms over his chest, subconsciously creating an emotional barrier. He was, after all, his biological parents’ son. “I wanted to ask like, you and PopWells, how did you know that you loved him? Was there a big moment, or did it happen over time?” He asked very seriously, as if he was conducting research. If he was asked, that is what his cover story would be.
Remy didn’t expect that. Placing both the pan and sponge down, DadWells reached for a hand towel, turned his attention towards JD, and wiped his hands. “Any reason you’re asking?” The blond man’s eyebrow curved up in curiosity. Of course Remy would inquire about the reasoning behind this before he rambled on about his love life.
“Yeah.” Dixon responded quickly and confidently. “It’s for school. Freshman health class has us doing a project on healthy relationships, I guess because they don’t want us being slutty teenagers or whatever. Anyway, you guys are like the most in love people I know, ‘sides my parents, but I’ll be talking to them too. But I mean, if I’m being real, you and PopWells seem way more in love.” JD’s blatant lie was sandwiched between truths, which made it come out smoothly. Hey, he wasn’t so bad at acting. Who knew that there was more to him than violence and violas?
Even if he was terribly bad at lying, Remy was a gullible man and believed nearly anything unless it was coming out of Riley’s mouth. Excitedly, he threw the hand towel on the counter and clasped his hands together, so happy someone was curious of his love story, “It all started with a pencil. Jareth was the new transfer and kept to himself. When someone would try to break through his barriers, he would lash out. But when I gave him my pencil, and used a crayon for our math test instead, I knew he’d be my best friend. For life. What I didn’t realize was I was super into him even before then and our relationship just kind of escalated.... we kept getting closer and closer, and I fell more and more madly in love with him, Before we even became close, I stopped him from beating some kid to a bloody pulp and I guess he felt bad for yelling at me so he said hey, let’s be friends. I was way into him before he even was into me. I even made my dating sims characters look like him… maybe I was in denial. Just a little bit. That is until I started getting jealous. Very jealous. I broke and decided to confess to him. He broke my heart. It got really awkward after that because by then I had come to terms I was totally gay, for him and only him, but he was still battling his own demons of liking me. After I avoided him like the damn plague, too embarrassed to face him, because well, it sucks, being rejected by the only person you’ve ever had eyes for… he came to me and he wrote me a song. The feelings were mutual. Finally. The rest is history!”
“Wait, he yelled at you?” JD asked in shock. The parallels in that story and how Tuesday night’s party had gone made him feel a little uncomfortable. Or maybe just nervous about what it could mean. He shifted his weight from one heel to the other. “I didn’t know he yelled, aside from with, like, in the band and stuff. Huh. So… how did he apologize for that?” This question was a little more personal, and Dixon, unbeknownst to him, was losing his researcher persona a bit. Instead, he was just a young high schooler looking for advice. He had someone to apologize to too, and he had know idea how to go about it.
With the best Jareth impression anyone could do, Remy used his middle finger to push his imaginary long emo hair to the side and looked at JD as if he were, well, him, “Thanks for stopping me from beating that kid up…” Subtlety and unintentionally, Remy’s arm touched JD’s, like Jar’s had many years ago, “I probably would’ve gotten suspended and sent back, so…” Two blinks. His eyes smiling, but not his lips. “Thanks. And…” Looking away from JD, trying his best to keep his cool, he muttered, “Sorry for yelling at you.”
Dixon cracked up laughing at Remy’s impersonation. It was so very… edgelord. “Oh man, I could like, feel the awkward. Shit, that’s golden.” JD giggled again. “Thanks, DadWells, that was helpful. Off to interviewee number two now, dinner was great if I don’t see you again before Ma gets here. Thanks!” Dixon said before heading off down to the studio, where he assumed Jareth would be.
“Hey,” JD greeted from the doorway of the studio, which the majority of the basement of the Wells household had been converted to. Inside, Jareth was sitting at his work desk, scribbling out something on a sheet of paper. The front man of Deciduous Dreams looked up from his task and gave the young boy a half smile.
“Hey Dixon, what’s up?” Jar asked.
“Are you busy?” JD responded to the question with another question, still standing in the doorway.
“Nah, just working through some lyrics. And running ideas by your dad, actually. Come on in.”
Dixon stepped through the threshold to the musician’s domain. This was the room where some real magic happened. It was like walking into an emo holy place. “I was just talking to DadWells about one of my school projects, and I was looking to hear your thoughts on it.”
“Oh, alright…” Jareth said, setting his pencil down and giving Dixon his full attention. “I wasn’t really good at school, but shoot, what is it?”
“A health project on healthy relationships. To start, could you tell me about how you and DadWells fell in love?”
This wasn’t for any school project, this was a bold-faced lie. This was the kind of shit Jar would have pulled at age fourteen to hide from his feelings, so he saw right through JD’s charade. That being said, he went with it. He’d already failed one kid by not giving his advice when it was needed, he wasn’t about to let that happen again. “I was bad at that too.”
“Yeah… I mean, I heard Rem’s side of it. But what about yours, what happened?”
Jareth looked melancholic for a moment, but then a soft smile graced his lips. Their love story had a rocky beginning, but that only made them stronger in the long run. “For me, it started when Remy told me that he liked me. We were best friends for years before that day, but I had never thought about him like that until the option was laid out in front of me. And then, the option terrified me. First, there was the fact that I had to come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t straight, at least not as straight as I thought I was. Then, there was the fear of what coming out would mean. And finally, what if I took the option… and messed it up. What if I lost my best friend?”
Enraptured by his idol’s story, Dixon leaned forward. “How… how did you deal with all that?”
“Music.” Jar said simply. “I turned to my craft. Music had always helped me find myself in the past. When things felt dark and I felt lost, music lit my path. That’s what you have to do, you know? Healthy relationships start with healthy people, so you gotta work on you first… even if admitting previously unknown things about yourself is hard. And then, you have to be willing to take risks. Love is a gamble, but the jackpot is pretty fucking sweet.” Jareth laughed and smiled wistfully. “I was really bad with words back then, so I basically apologized for being an ass with a song. We musicians have an easy way out in that, I guess.”
“Yeah, I get that.” JD responded, nodding in agreement.
Jar sat back in his chair and put his arm around the back of it, his gaze locked on Dixon’s face. “So, who’s this really about?” He asked, letting the cat out of the bag that he knew.
“Wh-what?” The boy’s eyes shot wide, looking like a panicked deer.
“Chill… I’m not going to tell anybody, but I know this isn’t for a school project. So, who is it? Anybody I know?”
“...no.” Dixon said honestly, after a very long pause of contemplation.
“KIDDO! GET YOUR ASS UP HERE. YOUR FATHER IS FUCKING IMPATIENT.”
Oh, thank the non-existent gods. His mother was here to save the day! “Uh, gotta go! Thanks, Jar… for everything.” Jareth nodded with a warm smile before going back to his work, and the kid took off running upstairs.
Sin didn’t even fully go into the Wells’ estate. Instead her head was poking through the front door, “HI REMY, JARETH. BYE REMY, JARETH. TELL YOUR KIDS TO GET LAID. BYE.” Expecting her son to come upstairs and follow her, ‘Sin Hardy’, or more privately known as Regina Piccoli, went to her car. When her son was not out yet, she started honking impatiently. This here was the drummer of Deciduous Dreams, everybody, and the lovely mother of Johnny Dixon.
There was a thumping as Dixon marched up the steps to get to his mother. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder now and waved at all of the Wells’ on his way out. “Thanks guys, see you later. Sorry Ma yelled.” JD said as he shrugged the backpack more firmly onto his shoulder. After saying his goodbyes to the Wells household, he made his way to his mom’s car. “Why’s Dad being impatient?” Did JD forget about something important? He couldn’t remember any plans… then again, it didn’t take much to annoy Lucas.
“Oh, sweet child of mine, your dad is probably jerking off to something on TV. I just don’t like waiting. You know me!” Sin had kept her car running, so really, it was only a matter of taking the car off park and pressing the gas for them to speed towards their home. Sin may not be the most visibly compassionate, but she cherished the nights they were all together. Even with how she acted, she was probably the happiest mother alive. Her and her husband fight for shits and giggles, because it was their language of love, JD was growing up to be someone she was proud to have pushed out of her vagina, and honestly, she had nothing to complain about. Sex was good. House was spooky all year round. Kiddo continued to be a kid. What more could she possibly ask for?
“Gross.” Was JD’s simple, one-worded reply. He was used to that kind of talk though, this was his mom, after all. “Sorry I kept you waiting, I was talking to Jar in the studio, so I didn’t get your text. Service in the basement is shitty… probably from the soundproofing.” JD looked out the window and watched the street lights go by as they drove, strobing against the black night sky. “When we get home, there’s something I need to ask you and Dad about. For a school project, okay? Then maybe we can watch a movie, if it’s not too late.” JD suggested hopefully.
“Child, I ain’t even mad. Don’t apologize. Just be like, Ma, I’ll get to you when I get to you. I didn’t raise a fucking pushover.” Sharply, Sin turned left and before both of them knew it, and after simple chit chat about JD’s day, they found themselves entering the living room.
“SHORTIE, THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, WHEREFORE ART THOU?!” Sin knew exactly where he was. “Oh, there you are! Couldn’t see you for a sec.” Sarcasm, just what the doctor asked for. The feisty mother couldn’t help but tease her husband as she gazed at his handsome self on his man couch. HIS man couch. Taking it upon herself, the infamous cougar that swept her man off his feet jumped on top of his lap and kissed him ever so roughly.
Honey colored eyes glared from Lucas’ position on the couch, following Sin until she was on his lap. Deciduous Dreams’ lead guitarist’s face looked mean, but there was a smirk in his gaze as he leaned forward to kiss Sin back. “Wife.” He greeted shortly. “Spawn.” Luke said, looking to JD now. “Welcome home, I was just watching this here riveting show about… I don’t even remember. I was sleeping until you YELLED.” He said with his attention back on his wife.
“Hey, Dad.” Dixon said before plopping down on the other couch, dropping his backpack on the floor carelessly.
“Hey, listen, bitch. I expect you to be up to greet me when I come home, that’s what housewives are for.” Sin over exaggerated her eye roll, before she grinned and winked, “Know your place, turdface.” Lucas replied with a feigned gasp, as if that truly hurt.
JD rolled his eyes at his parents. “Okay, lovebirds, you can play fight after. I have an assignment, and you’re probably going to hate it, Dad, but that’s fine. You’ll live. Anyway, it’s a project about healthy relationships—”
“Hah!” Luke responded with a laugh. “You hear that, old lady? Healthy relationships.” Sin’s left eye twitched. It didn’t matter the year, ‘old lady’ always got under her skin.
“Riiight. So, weirdly enough, even though you are my parents, I actually don’t know how you guys stopped fighting long enough to become my parents.” Realizing what he’d just said, he held up a finger to silence any witty zingers to come. “PLEASE spare me the details, I neither need nor want that nightmare of a biology lesson. But, how did you guys actually like, fall in love and stuff?”
“I mean, long story short, we met at a bar, I called your dad shortstuff, he hated me for that, then he broke the jaw of my ex’s face when he tried to interrupt our conversation. From there, I knew we’d go into fucktown and never come back. Then you came along as a result!” Their love story was simple, yet it was their own. Luke was fucking hot when he beat the shit out of her unoriginal, thieving, full of STDs, motherfuckin’ ex. Yeah, that punch was enough to seal the deal and make her panties wet for days.
“Hey! He had that shit coming! What an ASSHAT. You really know how to pick ‘em, Reg.”
“You PUNCHED a dude and broke his jaw? You guys sent me to therapy for punching kids, and their noses only bled for like ten minutes, how is that even fair?!”
“Listen, kid, you didn’t know when it was the right time to punch people. Now the Doc and Troy are teaching you some discipline and all that, so you can be better than us. He was a real fucker though… he deserved it. What was it that he called you, anyway? I’m getting old, I can’t even remember the shit that triggered me…” Luke directed the question at his wife, scratching at the stubble on his chin in thought.
“That detail doesn’t even matter.” She had no clue. That time was way behind her, so knowing the fine details of their past was pointless. Plus, she was older than her husband. Her memory was twice as bad!
It was probably some slut shaming term or whatever. All JD needed to know was they were together and happy. “Just know when you’re older, if there’s fuckers, it’s okay to break their bones, but right now, you need to be a model citizen until we’re no longer liable for you. Got it?” Regina with her harsh, dark gaze, waited for her son’s response.
“Ehh…” Dixon shrugged. “We’ll see. You know what people say about apples and trees.” Momma didn’t raise a pushover, right? “Be right back, I’m going to bring my stuff upstairs and change into pajamas. Then movie night, Dad gets to pick this time.” JD said before scurrying off upstairs to his room.
Scoff. “I feel like you always pick.” Not true. She always picked. “Whatever, that’s not important right now. You know what is important?” Sin wrapped her hands around Luke’s neck, intertwining her fingers, while giving a smug look.
“What?” He asked, smirking back at his rockstar beauty. “Right now? We can’t, you heard the kid, it’s movie night. After, though…”
“No, dumbass!” Sin pinched her husband’s neck, ”You make it seem like I think about fucking you 24/7.” She did. “Our son has a crush.” Momma’s intuition never failed her. JD did come out of her twat, after all.
“That’s because you do — wait, what? How the hell do you know that?”
“I know everything. That’s why.”
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