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Post by DJKID on Jun 26, 2010 15:17:10 GMT -5
Stupid boy.
Will sighed. He was doing that a lot these days. Since the days of creeping around Bullworth, Will's life had gotten... complicated. Recently, he'd begun to miss the simplicity of his one-track mind. Not even the pills helped anymore, and Will had even begun to wonder if he'd developed a tolerance for them.
Overall, his appearance hadn't changed much, aside from the dark circles becoming much more prominent around his eyes. The insomnia had gotten bad, those nightmares kept coming back... Will's dark hair was draped over his eyes, his figure hunched over in the chair, staring at the pill bottle rattling in his hands. It was getting harder and harder to moderate the doses. When he was younger, it hadn't meant anything to him. The high had become so familiar and addictive, it didn't seem like it could ever hurt him.
Until he ended up in the hospital.
Then there was a big controversial fuss over whether or not the pills were helping any of the students, had the child turned into an addict, could regular therapy do anything for him? The whole situation annoyed Will more than anything. He was beyond confused when the therapist asked if he intentionally overdosed in a suicide attempt. It had all made him so angry. He wanted to be alone. They kept asking if it had anything to do with his missing sister. The poor boy, his whole family gone...
He couldn't understand how those people could be so stupid. He wanted to be alone. He was welcoming of the silence in that hospital room.
But then Chaplin showed, looking down with a wrapped box in his hands. For some reason he couldn't explain, Will felt moved. When the box was opened, Chaplin bashfully admitted he'd tried to make chocolate churro bunnies. It was a humorous attempt, to say the least. The whole situation made him feel odd. Weak, perhaps?
And now here he was, at Chaplin's side in the university's infirmary. Of course, smoking was not allowed, so his nervous hands had gone to the familiar form of the orange bottle, his thin hands twisting the bottle every which way.
Stupid, stupid boy.
Why was he even here?
--
(( Lane to come in a moment ))
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Post by Memai on Jun 26, 2010 15:22:04 GMT -5
Will perked up when he heard the sounds of groaning coming from the bed; Chaplin was finally coming around.
You're still stupid.
Chaplin, of course, was fighting the raging headache that seemed to plague him. His hands flew to his temples, as if that would help to dull the pain.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, what did I drink last night?" he slurred out, "Ffffuck."
"Hello," was Will's curt and blunt greeting, "I suppose you should take your medicine." He pushed a small tray that held an assortment of pills and a tall glass of water, "You took quite the fall."
Why don't you ever listen?
Chaplin, of course, looked wide eyed, surprised at who his visitor was. Normally, most people would be thankful to even have a visitor for an embarassing little fall.
Instead;
"Shit, now I know I've gone to Hell," he turned away from Will, almost afraid to confront him. He pulled the blanket over his head and let out a long, audible sigh.
But Will was a patient person, "You really should take your medicine." Don't test me.
"What're you doing here?" was the muffled enquiry from under the sheets. Chaplin wasn't sure why he was so afraid of seeing Will after so long; he figured it was an awkward time for the both of them to even see each other. Maybe what stays in Bullworth should stay in Bullworth. Maybe there were things he wasn't quite ready to say yet. Maybe... Maybe...
Maybe I'm just not ready to face my fears.
"You have a problem, Chaplin," It wasn't a question, it was a statement. It was also, the truth.
"No, I don't. You're making things up."
"... You're impossible." Will's grip on the pill bottle hardened, a small irritated twitch on the corner of his mouth. "Take your medicine."
"...Fine." The Hawaiian uncovered himself from the sheets, sitting up and downing the little white pills, taking down the whole glass of water with what looked to be one gulp.
"You never changed, did you?" It was almost inaudible, a mumble under Will's breath, but it was the truth, never the less.
"What're you doing here? I thought you left?" It was a mindless question from Chaplin, a question that carried no weight or meaning to him. Will however, refused to answer, he'd rather keep the wool over the boy's eyes for now.
"I've been around."
"Mmm," Chaplin's eyes were bloodshot and he looked ill, his usual proud posture was now replaced with one that looked burdened, constantly troubled. His hands looked restless. He smelled like sickness and whiskey, something that gave away his troubles; his toned, athletic body couldn't hide the stench, couldn't hide the red eyes or the itching fingers waiting to grasp the neck of another Johnny Walker.
Will saw through all of this.
"The coach isn't going to let me play tonight, I think," Chaplin admitted, "I've talked to him, you know. I think he's on to me."
"Everyone is."
"Really?" It wasn't sarcasm, it was actual disappointment. Which sort of... saddened Will; how this boy went on with this pathetic masquerade and believed in it. "Damn..."
You're such a stupid, stupid boy. What am I going to do with you?
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Post by DJKID on Jun 26, 2010 16:19:32 GMT -5
Through the whole discussion, Will's posture changed very little, his sickly thin frame had only gotten weaker. Although he could probably guess what the pills on the tray were, he couldn't read the labels. His eyes were going bad, but somewhere inside his inner teenager thought the glasses looked silly. They stayed tucked inside his jacket.
Cigarettes, alcohol, and pills... We're a pair you and I.
He gave the pills one final shake, as if he were actually communicating 'no' to them, and stuffed them in his pocket.
"What do you plan to do about it?" It was like a parent scolding a child.
"Wha..?" Chaplin gave the smaller boy a confused look. His face quickly scrunched in frustration. "Who the hell do you think you are? You can't just show up whenever you feel like it and make demands! You don't even have the right to judge me!"
You're no better than me.
What am I going to do...
Will didn't respond. Not because he didn't have an answer to Chaplin, but because he was waiting for the athlete to give him a proper response. Even if neither of them wanted to admit it, their thoughts were running parallel, but someone needed to back down and admit defeat.
Stubborn boys.
Neither of them looked at each other.
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Post by professorpineapple on Jun 26, 2010 18:10:00 GMT -5
Stevie looked her over.
"You roller derby?" He wasn't sure if "roller derby" could be used as a verb, but he didn't know what else to call it. He'd seen a show about it on TV once, though, and thought it looked like fun.
Fun, in a hardcore kinda way. This girl, with her round glasses and springy hair, didn't look particularly hardcore. On the contrary, she looked like the type who'd enjoy knitting. And herbal tea. Probably owned a cat, too. A big fat one, with a bell around his neck. She just looked like that kind of person.
"How fast can you go?"
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Post by Memai on Jun 27, 2010 4:17:15 GMT -5
And there it was; the perfect stalemate, no clear winners, no more moves to be made.
If anyone had seen the two, they would've naturally assumed Will to quietly back down from the fight and withdraw; he was a loner on medication, one would expect him to get used to the idea of backing off. Chaplin was always the stubborn go-getter, nothing stood in his way of winning, he would never back down, no matter how humiliated. And yet, like the perfect twist at the end of a movie, it was he who surrendered.
Will raised a curious eyebrow, watching the athlete burrow his face into his large hands. He sighed and couldn't help but feel a little melancholic.
You did this to yourself. I had nothing to do with it.
"Why now?" His voice, Will noted, was cracking, "Why after so long? Why after I fuck up you decide to just... to just, DAMNIT! Where'd you go? I fucking needed you!"
Will didn't answer, he just carried on staring at the sad being sitting on bed, cursing at everything, everyone, but always remembering to never put the blame on himself.
"I'm sorry, truly." His voice was still devoid of any emotion, a trait which had always bothered Chaplin. "But there were... unforeseen consequences. I had to leave."
It was the best Will could do to explain and he fully expected Chaplin to retaliate like the small child he was.
"FUCK YOU AND YOUR CONSEQUENCES!"
Still stupid.
It was then, a nurse came in, followed by the coach; a stout man with a mustache that fully concealed his entire mouth, a pair of tiny beady eyes and a rosy complexion.
Chaplin groaned.
"How're you doing Mr. Mano?" The nurse asked, with her perky attitude and charming demeanor, "Have you taken your medicine?"
"...yes. And I still feel like crap."
"You had a dangerous amount of alcohol in your body, Mr. Mano," she said with a tinge of sadness, "It could kill you if you keep this up."
"She's right," the coach piped up, "I don't want any of my star players DYING on the damned court when we're against those Ivy League brats."
Chaplin lowered his head, though Will could see the sarcastic look the athlete wore on his face. 'You've had this talk before, haven't you?'
"I know, coach."
"I want everyone out," was the coach's demand, "Y'all can come back whenever, but I need a word with Chap right now."
x x x x x
Will wasn't one to unnecessarily go against a person of authority, so he waited patiently outside the ward, listening intently on the muffled shouting match that was going on before coach and player;
"--OLD YOU SO MANY TIMES!"
"I'm under a lot of pressure, coach! You wouldn't understand!"
There were expletives thrown in liberally, something he'd have to speak to Chaplin about at a much later time.
"Understand this--" Will perked up, listening much more carefully now...
x x x x x
"You'll be off the team, unless you can fix this little habit you have. I don't care if you HAVE to take a fuckin' swig, Mano, but do not do this before a big game. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"
"Crystal."
"Good. We have practice in another hour, I want you to be there and playing your best."
"Yes, coach."
x x x x x
Will saw the coach storm out of the ward, composing himself to the best he can, before glancing at Will with a more polite expression.
"Erm, sorry if you heard any of that. Boy has a temper."
"It's quite alright."
((FFFF))
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Post by DJKID on Jun 27, 2010 5:32:35 GMT -5
Most people would have immediately dashed over to Chaplin's side, gripped his shoulders and offered inspiring words. Not Will. The thin boy watched the coach disappear around a corner, but didn't make any moves to reenter the room. Instead, he stared at the wall and took a moment to gather his thoughts.
Stupid, selfish child.
Will pulled the pills from his pocket and rattled the bottle. He couldn't help but wonder what part of Chaplin's life had gotten so bad in the year he'd vanished from everyone who knew him. Sadly, he never found his sister. Lane was still out there, somewhere, he was certain, and he'd begun to reach the point of wanting to find her for the sake of finding her. She was his little sister.
He rattled the pills again.
There was almost a twinge of guilt. The athlete had been there for the sickly boy; held his hand and been a comfort, in his own moronic way. It seemed only right that Will should have been around to return the favor. However, Will had never asked Chaplin for help. He hadn't cried in the man's arms begging for company. In fact, he ran away.
A sigh.
The pills went back in their pocket.
He should be calm by now.
The insomniac stepped into the room, past the nurse - who left in a fluster - and took his seat beside the bed once more. Chaplin was looking at his hands.
"What do you plan to do about it?"
Chaplin shot him a glare, "Can you even pretend to worry?"
For once, Will looked taken aback. Somehow, the question had caught him completely off guard. For some reason, it offended him. There was another period of silence while Will stared at the floor.
"Fine. I apologize for attempting to reenter your life."
That said, the boy stood up.
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Post by Memai on Jun 27, 2010 8:19:16 GMT -5
"Wait--" a desperate call, but one Will heeded to regardless. "Wait, I... I just... I've been... It's been hard. I think." He turned around, watching the tanned athlete playing with his hands nervously. The thought didn't even cross the lanky boy to return to Chaplin's side and listen to what he had to say.
Instead, he stood in the shadows, as he always did."I don't know," a defeated sigh, hands rubbing his temples with frustration, "I don't know a lot of things, but I guess you know that already, right?" Stupid, selfish child."It's just... it's just a bad time now, I think, for you to come back so soon. I don't know... I'm fixing things." "You were good at that, yes," a small hint of nostalgia could be traced in Will's voice."I don't know what to tell you, I don't even know what I'm going to do." x x x x x ((this part be a flashback!))It was after that fateful hospital visit that Chaplin had figured something had gone wrong. He had went back a second time, where the doctor had told him that no visitors were allowed, and he figured the men in white coats must be right, because he would see Will sleeping, sickly and still, on the bed.
The third time he had sneaked in, and could only stare at the boy resting away until a nurse noticed and had dragged him out.
The fourth visit, he was told by the front desk that a 'Will S.' had already been admitted out of the hospital.
Oh.
Chaplin thought nothing of it at first, he noticed Will was sick for a while, and had been displaying some pretty scary symptoms; scary enough to land the lanky lad in the hospital without a moment's hesistation.
He wasn't a bright boy, but he knew that whenever someone was rushed dramatically to the hospital, it was never a good thing and never happened at a good time.
But he told himself, he had to make it without Will for a little while. He wouldn't show it, but the boy's presence made him... feel safer; he wasn't sure if it was the knife or how cool he sounded when he used all those big, fancy words.
But he felt safer, regardless.
He hadn't heard anything from Will since then. He didn't want to sound like a jaded, angry lover, even though there was more truth to that than anything. But he knew that he wasn't going to come back, and that if he did, he wouldn't be able to remember all those late night visits.
Pointless, isn't it?
So his usual, trusting self was torn down, a part of him gone; he had been more careful with his friends, begrudging them rather than forgiving them for every misdeed against him. He had been more careful around people he would bring to bed, and even then they were people who were simply there just so that he could be reminded of all the things that had slipped away from him when Will disappeared.
He had been doing a good job in college for a while, he was always tired and spoke less than his more jovial high school persona, but all his friends from before assured him that he'll get over this tiny stumbling block.
They were wrong. Even till this day he was still hurt over it.
He couldn't even explain it.
Tourism wasn't such a bad course, his dad had worked in hotels and his mother was opinionated about things like hotels and resorts, so he figured he had some background in it. He was also one of the best players on the school's basketball team.
But it wasn't until the later semesters did he take up his habit of knocking the bottle. The exams were harder, the lecturers and tutors a little more harsher, and the workload was impossible to juggle with the ever demanding sports team.
So he downed a bottle of Jack every night to dull the stress.
But it's always the littlest things that trigger the worst of habits.
He was embarrassed by his problems, naturally. He would lash out whenever somebody spoke to him about it, always saying he would fix it, he would do something about it, or just outright ignore it altogether.
But he had made a promise to his family, ohana, that he would make something of himself at the end of all this, and wished his realization had come a little sooner.
Now he was being threatened off the basketball team, and Will coming along to say hello. As if the one whole, bleak, empty year didn't happen. As if one year of pain, confusion, misery and deceit was nothing.
But that was always like Will to never feel anything.
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cheshacatt
Junior Member
Nerds can't die. You can't kill what has no life.
Posts: 491
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Post by cheshacatt on Jun 27, 2010 9:50:55 GMT -5
"How fast can you go?"
Judith grinned. Time to exercise bragging rights, she figured. "Oh, damn fast. Fastest on my team! I was picked as a runner - the one that scored the points - and if I got knocked down, I got back up quick. We were good as hell." The smile faded a little from her lips. "I miss it. I really do. There's just no way to do it in this town - might go back to New York, I dunno."
Realising she had been rambling, she stopped and let out a little chuckle. "Hah, sorry, getting kinda nostalgic. But hey, I skate 'round campus and town, you might get to see how fast I can really go then!"
Judith gave him another lopsided grin. Looking him up and down, she knew she'd not seen him here before; he was definitely college age (though only just looked it) but he'd never attended any classes.
"What's your name again, anyway? I'm real sorry but I can't say I remember."
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Post by DJKID on Jun 27, 2010 11:11:05 GMT -5
Will frowned at the Hawaiian, half tempted to tell him what an idiot he was being. A tiny part of him even wanted to apologize and hold his hand. However, Will still hadn't figured out why he was even still standing in the room.
He pulled out his pills and looked at them, twisting the bottle as if the label might have some secret message. He actually looked disappointed.
Chaplin couldn't help but look concerned, "Why do you still have those?"
"You're an idiot."
Chaplin's mouth nearly dropped open. He was even more surprised when Will slapped him. Although, he wasn't sure which shocked him more, that it happened at all or how weak it was. Deep inside, he felt disappointed. For some reason, he expected that Will might have gone away to do some soul searching, and would return a much better person. Apparently, the boy had only gotten worse and stopped taking care of himself altogether.
"What the h-"
"Get up. You should eat something before you go back to practice."
Will turned on heel.
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Post by professorpineapple on Jun 27, 2010 16:47:27 GMT -5
New York. Huh.
That seemed to explain it. There were a lotta weird people in New York. Stevie had been there once, when he was ten. He'd sang Sweet Home Alabama with an old man on the subway. It was a weird place.
"What's your name again, anyway? I'm real sorry but I can't say I remember."
Stevie waved a hand dismissively. "That's alright," he said, "We never talked. I'm Stevie. What's your name?"
Her name was Judith, and she told him just that. She didn't look like a Judith - it sounded like an old-lady name. But, Stevie couldn't think of a polite way to work that into conversation, so he just smled and said, "Nice to meetcha."
His fingers twisted absently around the frayed ends of his baggy jeans. It was nice to have someone to talk to - especially someone new - but for some reason, he felt unsettled. Sure, he had company now, but she was probably a student here. That meant she'd have to leave soon, probably. And then what would he do? Stevie couldn't explain why, but lately, uncertainty made him antsy.
"You can't start a team here?" he asked, just to have something to say. "It could be like the bike races. Just, like, race around town."
Although, these days, bicycle races were discouraged in Bullworth Town. After some rich kid got hit by a car and tried to sue everything. Which was stupid, in Stevie's opinion, because he just got a little road burn. Stevie broke his arm in a race two years before, but he didn't sue anyone. He toughed it out, because he was a man, god dammit.
He pondered this for a moment, then said, half to himself, "Maybe the gym would be better. I think there's a gym here."
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Post by Memai on Jun 28, 2010 5:42:22 GMT -5
You are such a helpless child. You... you're a grown man and you still expect me to take care of you.
What am I going to do with you?
Chaplin had recovered enough to be able to walk out with Will to the small, on-campus cafe. The athlete had got himself a sandwich and a bottle of water, but only because the lanky boy in the sharp suit kept insisting he needed to eat real food.
"Y'know, you don't always have to keep staring at me like that," Chaplin said irritably, glancing sideways to Will who was, indeed, staring the boy down half to death.
"Just to need to make sure you actually eat and not chuck the food away in an attempt to deceive me. You can be such a stubborn person, Chaplin, you know this."
The Hawaiian furrowed his brows, but continued to munch his sandwich down angrily regardless.
"I can do fine without you. I have for a while, you know." He was still bitter over that abrupt departure, but who wouldn't be, honestly? Though it escaped his simplistic mind that perhaps there were greater reasons for it.
Everything happens for a reason.
"I know," Will looked away from the boy for a moment, staring at his hands absent-mindedly, fingers itching to wrap themselves around the pill-bottle or pop open the pack of cigarettes, "But I just wished you did better."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He wasn't a bright boy, but his heart was always in the right place, "What'dya mean I can do better?"
"It's nothing, forget it. I was thinking aloud."
"Oh."
Silence passed between the two, a heavy, tense silence. Perhaps it really was guilt, Will thought, but it always returned to the simple reasoning that Chaplin was a little selfish at times. That just because he left, didn't mean he didn't feel good about. That maybe there was a reason more meaningful to it rather than a case of cold feet.
But he couldn't expect Chaplin to understand. Maybe not yet, maybe after she's turned up and back home.
Maybe when he can see for himself that perhaps... nothing really changed between him and Chaplin all this while.
Will dragged himself out of his thoughts and glanced at his watch, "Practice is in another fifteen minutes. We should leave now."
"Coach doesn't mind if I'm late..." the athlete had just finished the last bite of his sandwich, now licking the sauce and condiments off his fingers.
"You're in enough trouble as it is."
"Yeah, yeah..." They both got up, a little more reluctantly than they would've liked.
x x x x x
"Bea, maybe I've changed my mind about this," Roxy caught up to her much taller friend, "You can't lie to Bucky like this! He'll be crushed to tiny little bits and the poor boy's going to be--"
"Rox! Relax!" Beatrice turned her attention away from her phone for a moment, focusing on Roxy, "I know what I'm doing. Besides, it's not like I'm going to do anything drastic."
"Beatrice..."
"I just want to look, Roxy," yet, she couldn't stop the guilty face she was now wearing, "I know, it's going to look bad w-when Bucky sees, but I just... I just want to know. Maybe he remembers?"
"Remember what?"
"Me and Jimmy... had a thing. I don't know if... if maybe he still does."
"It's been years, Beatrice. And, I'm sorry, but he was an unsavory little mongrel. I've seen him with other girls depending on what day of the week it was."
"I thought you didn't listen to rumors?"
"They weren't rumors..." Roxy couldn't but feel a little sad perhaps at her friend's loose grasp on the concept of 'romance' and 'relationships', "Beatrice, I mean, why?"
"Why not? I mean, you of all people should understand!"
"I... I should?" What are you going on about you blinkered girl?
"I mean, you and Pea-- I mean Larry, you kept seeing him in secret and--"
"I did that so I didn't get beat up. You're going to be suffering guilt and heartbreak for ten years until you decide to drastically end it all!" Roxy screamed at her friend, causing an unintended bit of attention drawn to her in the busy hallways, "Beatrice, just don't go."
Roxy stared angrily at her friend; the nerve of her, thinking of betraying the trust of someone she's supposed to care about. Beatrice of course, was like any lonely girl her age; she may have had small feelings for Bucky, but after learning that Jimmy was also around and in the basketball team, made her heart leap. Maybe she could now know for sure if he did have feelings for her.
To know for sure if that high school romance really was the true thing.
"I told Bucky that I'll be at your apartment tonight, studying. If he comes around, just say that I left or... or something."
"But... but tonight's date night with Larry," Roxy looked horrified, "I cannot tell that boy to keep it down and pretend like we have someone in the living room! I..."
"He may not come. But just please please be there if he does."
"Beatrice, look," a sigh, "You're going to get into a lot more trouble than you think."
"What's the worse that can happen? Besides... I need to get ready for tonight, I want to look nice for Jimmy," with that, Beatrice turned on her heel and left.
Leaving Roxy to wonder if she should tell someone about this.
x x x x x
"Oh no..." Bucky looked to his cellphone screen, the message he had just got from Beatrice was being re-read over and over, as if he needed to realize what he was seeing was real.
Kay came along soon enough, emerging from the crowd of students in the halls, "Buck! I'm here, let's go get something to eat and... you look miserable."
"Bea canceled tonight."
"What? Really?!" Kay jumped back in shock, though this wasn't the first time Bea had stood her date up, this particular outing they had planned seemed pretty fancy. Or at least, to Bucky it was; he had wanted to take her out to all their previous hangouts, the place where they first met and shared their first kiss, to relive their first awkward date at the carnival.
They had a ten month anniversary coming up anyway, he wanted it to be special.
"Oh, wow, I'm really sorry Bucky. I'm sure it's important though," she tried to console her downtrodden friend, but each pat on the back she gave just made him draw out his sighs a little longer.
"She says she has a test coming up, she'll be over at Roxanne's."
"Oh... I guess if Roxy's hosting her for study night..." Kay usually doubted Bea's excuses, they were always seemed a little too on-the-fly for her to accept. But Roxy did mention about a test coming up, Roxy had mentioned hosting Beatrice over a couple times for studying.
"Maybe you could go and see her at Roxanne's?"
"I wouldn't want to impose..."
"I don't think she'd mind, I'll call her, let her know you're coming," a smile, instilling a little hope into the boy.
"I guess that would be okay... I could bring a console over or something too."
"See? You're smiling again already!" Kay hated seeing her friends down for any reason, that was evident enough during her time at Bullworth. Truth of the matter was that she enjoyed Bucky's company immensely, and was incredibly delighted when he had managed to snag Beatrice all to himself.
That still didn't stop the doubting, didn't stop the double checking on the internet and a few carefully timed calls here and there.
"Ah, Kay. Just let me know if Roxanne's okay with having me over for a little while."
"I'll call her, but right now, FOOD!"
x x x x x
"A basketball game?" Terrance looked to Gord in an expression that was an unholy mix of disgust, fright and intrigue, "A basketball game? Are you mad?"
"No, you are," Gord cackled, "It's a court full of handsome young men practically throwing themselves at each other and you're telling me I'm mad? My, oh my."
"Actually, yes, I'm implying that. Why would you want to sit there for an hour watching these men throw a ball around?"
"Oh my god!" Gord slapped his forehead; the ignorance of this silly boy, "They wear shorts! Loose fitting clothes! They might as well be wearing nothing at that rate!" An excited squeal, "Besides, I hear Hopkins is there. And that Mano hunk."
"Mano?"
"Oohhh, he can take me to Tahiti ANYDAY!"
"Gord, if I'm not mistaken... he's--"
"It doesn't matter, he speaks weird, comes from an island and has a FINE derriere! ♥"
"Is that the only reason you want to go, Gord? To stare at the players?"
"And maybe introduce myself a little more intimately during the after party," A smug look, perhaps a little too smug for Terrance, who only replied with a disgusted sneer.
"Oh, shut up, pumpkin! You'll love it too!"
It can't be that bad, could it? Terrance figured the excitement might build up for the first half hour to keep him entertained. Perhaps some horrible, yet morbidly hilarious accident will happen on the court.
Maybe it might be interesting.
(( Epic post now made more epic. ))
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Post by DJKID on Jun 28, 2010 17:38:22 GMT -5
Another sigh.
Once they were outside, Will's hand quickly retrieved his cigarettes and a lighter. Chaplin gave him a curious glance.
"When did you start smoking?"
"It's been a year, Chaplin."
The pair walked in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. There was so much Chaplin wanted to say, so many things that had changed, but did any of that mean anything to Will? He'd dug himself into a hole with a bottle of scotch and was content to hide there from his worries, but Will hadn't changed a bit. He didn't even seem sad, or happy, to see him again.
Will was still the demanding control freak Chaplin remembered. Long ago, he would've thought it funny, the kid reminded him of a coach.
Don't do this. Come here. Turn here. Fix your hair. Stop staring.
And always with a sense of immediacy. He often found himself wondering what time zone Will's fucked up little world functioned in.
Nothing had changed.
"I will see you after practice then."
It wasn't a question, but a demand. Never a question. The pale boy never asked or cared for feelings and opinions.
Fuck, if I wanted to date a robot I would've beat the nerds at Bullworth into building me one.
"You know, Will."
Those dark eyes glanced in his direction.
"No wonder your sister vanished on you."
It must be a family thing.
Will nearly dropped his cigarette, his expression, for once, one of genuine hurt.
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Post by Memai on Jun 29, 2010 9:13:50 GMT -5
Will nearly dropped his cigarette, his expression, for once, one of genuine hurt.
"You... didn't..." Words were spilling out of his mouth before he could even form them, "You didn't mean that," He pointed accusingly at Chaplin, who was already walking away nonchalantly. "You didn't just say that." His voice was shaking.
The Hawaiian turned around, "I already did, brah."
x x x x x
The courts were abuzz with activity, as usual. Sure, the game wasn't until a few hours away; last minute practice was held to build up adrenalin, while two to three hours were given to players to get ready, to relax.
Which was why everyone was pushing each other to do their best. The basketball team was on a winning streak ever since Bo and Chaplin had been introduced onto the team.
They didn't want to lose that streak.
"Chap!" Bo shouted, running up to his friend all smiles, "You okay man?"
"Brah, I'm good," Bo saw a weak smile on his friend's lips, Chap knew it was half-hearted, hiding the hurt feelings. "Lesson learned."
"Good, you stupid motherfucker," a laugh, a playful fist to the Hawaiian's forearm, "Cause we got fuckin' practice, don't go around passing out on us!" Bo had gone into a jog, pumping himself up, and smiled even more when he saw Chaplin matching his pace, ready to join in the game.
"Brah, I kick your ass all the damned time on the courts. Don't talk."
The squeals and screeches of rubber soles against the smooth, shiny court floor, the loud whistle was all it took for the boys to knew that practice had started.
Chaplin couldn't help but smile when he realized he was playing better now, never mind the breaking heart. The feeling of scoring a hoop than feeling like you've been kicked down was always his favorite anyway.
Fuck you, fuck you for coming back and pretending like I haven't been hurting.
Little did he know there was a figure in the shadows; standing, watching, smiling with pride.
x x x x x
"Hello? Yes, is Larry there?" Roxy slumped down against the wall, she was still in the hallway, wondering what her next course of action would be.
She was nervous as it is, she didn't want anyone to get into trouble with each other. Beatrice was her course mate and also dating Bucky, who was Kay's friend, who was Roxy's good friend.
A vicious chain should anything happen.
The thought frightened her.
"Hello?" A tired voice answered on the other side.
"Oh good, Larry!"
"Babe, what's up?"
"I'm... I'm in a pinch, love. Help me?"
"Yeah, sure. What's wrong?"
"Beatrice wants to come over and--"
"Tell her to fuck off. Tonight's OUR night, babe. Don't ruin it. Please. I know you wanna study and stuff, but please..."
"I know..." Guilt, regret, was she doing the right thing? "I know, it's been a while. I know."
"Don't do this to me, Rox."
Her eyes darted, focusing on little spots on the carpet, as if they could provide her the answers she wanted, "Alright, alright. No one's being hosted for tonight. It'll be just you and I, like we promised," a smile, a faint blush.
"Good. See you tonight, babe. Wear your best."
"I promise." Cor... what am I getting myself into? This better be worth it Bea.
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Post by DJKID on Jun 29, 2010 11:31:28 GMT -5
Will eventually managed to tear himself away from the scene.
It wasn't easy, nothing ever was.
He flicked the cigarette away, his hands immediately becoming irritated by the emptiness. He pulled out the pills.
And all he could do was stare at the bottle.
It bothered him that he didn't have a grip on his emotions, but it bothered him more how many people he'd lost.
Wasn't this what people were supposed to do? Deal with their feelings, learn to cope? Even though he'd always considered the pills his coping mechanism, they hadn't helped him with anything.
"But right now, FOOD!"
The voice jerked him from his daze, it actually took him a second to remember where he was.
"Adams?"
The girl spun around.
----
There was a heavy silence drifting over the apartment. It would have been a calming scene, if there wasn't such a strong sense of loneliness.
She had never stopped missing him.
Lane Silverberg unraveled herself from the bed sheets and brushed her hair from her face. For several moments she just sat there, staring at nothing.
Eventually, she spotted Kay's breakfast gift, and couldn't help but smile.
She was such a nice girl.
But Lane wasn't hungry.
She grabbed her headband off the stand. After realizing how often she fought with her hair, Kay had been sweet enough to buy her a new one.
But Lane missed the one Will had bought her.
She crawled out of the bed, dressed in nothing but a loose tank-top and panties, and grabbed a small plastic cellphone that had been left on the counter. Kay had bought it for her, scared for the pale girl's safety. It was a cheap, yet durable device.
But Lane missed the days when she only had to whistle and he was there.
The girl crawled into the bathtub, it made her feel safe, for a reason she couldn't decipher, and began clicking the buttons on her phone.
"It's so lonely when you're gone."
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Post by AshHavynn on Jun 29, 2010 21:03:05 GMT -5
((I KNEW I knew who was in Kay's bed! Damn this story arc is so hot. ... Gonna try to worm REL in here now. Her cameo's are like, soooo not fun.))
REL had grown tired of all the papers and pens and names and numbers, and took to amusing herself with a school tour. College was much bigger than high school. She typically had some agent to lead her around to an appointed schedule--to destination A to do task X at time AB:CD. Now was so spontaneous, so independent. It was maddeningly exciting, but also somewhat frightening... and almost lonely.
She heard a buzzer in the distance. It was... a game? This early? Maybe just practice? In any case, people were in this direction. Not the smartest type of people, to her recollection, but she'd have to manage. Heels clicked on cobble as she walked in haste to the sound. It had been ages. She'd fled from Bullworth... so fast. She kept no numbers... spoke to no one. She'd managed to convince herself that she'd formed some kind of mutual friendships with a few of her classmates, but the subconscious knowledge that it was all another one of her sick desperate delusions kept her from approaching them after graduation, genuinely seeking companionship.
REL Wigglesworth needed no one... right?
Oh, damn, why did I ever decide to wear these heels today!?
The thin brunette fought with her own frail frame in attempts to both come off as strong and confident, and to keep from collapsing entirely. The sounds of muffled shouting grew warmer; the gym was near. Oh, to have sane, beautiful, non-old people to talk to! And not about bloody business, or money! The excitement somehow managed to put a grin on her face, and she rounded the corner.
No one was there. It was quiet, other than the sounds from inside the gym, and she'd have to wait until after the players left... Bad etiquette to march into a sports something-or-other in the midst of happenings and start trying to socialize. Some leaves blew across the ground, and REL sighed, clutching her things to her chest like any poor, insecure girl (it was a posture she'd practiced in front of the mirror), before hearing the faintest rattle. Still, silent, without moving, her eyes trailed over to the direction of a familiar, just as silent and still as she.
"Will!" it was a whisper, a gasp. So under her breath, she barely spoke it. It was, at first, surprise and excitement, disbelief, and a vague sense of childish merriment despite the character. But the immediate aftertaste was confusion, curiosity... suspicion.
...What on Earth is he doing here? He disappeared entirely, I never even heard from him again.
A tiny, tiny twinge of bitterness. I had a job lined up for him... And surely I had to dirty my own hands because of his absence. In total spite of the bitterness, there was some soft spot in REL's heart for this boy whom she felt she knew so well, and she needed to be friendly to him. Or so she bloody fucking told herself to avoid the need to strangle him right then and there.
"But right now? FOOD!" the somewhat distant shout shook the misplaced fashionista from her debated hostility and absorbed her full attention at once. REL knew that voice, and looking up, she swore she knew that figure. Oh, god, she knew her! She was a nerd, or something, oh, what WAS her name!?
"Adams?" She heard Will call out to the girl, obviously also a bit surprised. He hadn't seen her recently, either, it seemed, but that word, the mentioning of that surname, brought it all back to her, and in an explosion of nostalgia and priide in remembering who this probably insignificant classmate's name was, REL dropped her things to the ground and took off in a sprint that only trained (and typically Latina) women can accomplish in heels of that calibur past Will and towards her target.
"Kay!!!" An involuntary amount of affection leaked about the pronunciation of that syllable, and the average onlooker might have assumed there was a sort of passion shared between the 2 girls at some point in time. Actually, even those who'd been around the 2 in yesteryears might have come to that conclusion. REL was neither giddy, bouncy, or exceptionally excited to approach ANYONE. Kay was obviously one of REL's 'sick delusions' of years past.
...It must have been a horrifying sight to see.
((HAR HAR GETTING ALL UP IN EVERYBODY'S KOOL-AID.))
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