A/N: this is exactly a week after ariana found out jahmier's "secret." she hasn't said anything to him.
Wrigley High
CLICK!
ashley feguroa exited the auditorium from the left stage.
on the same stairs she left, a quiet mexican boy by the name of richard stepped onto the stage, disappearing behind the curtain that hung any time school ID picture sessions were being held.
CLICK!
and next, finally, was ariana, an extremely flat faced ariana. she couldn't be more bored. even bored was an understatement, she was just plain irritated.
she dragged her feet across the stage all the way until she was seated into the chair. very, very light bags hung under her eyes and a yawn could be heard every second. she felt as if someone woke her up, rolled her into an outfit, and threw her far enough to land in school. she'd had a long day all the way up until school started. and not only did jahmier's regained habit upset her, she had problems of her own as everyone does.
but ariana wouldn't allow a bad ID picture, or any picture at all for that matter. smiling big and bright, her pearly whites glowed as the photographer's flash blinded her, her almond brown hair, jawline, and facial features capable of making anyone jealous.
and then, her face fell flat again. "cheer up kid." the photographer frowned seeing the boring expression on her face.
scoffing, ariana remarked, "cheer up?" she dryly laughed. "i'm paying seven dollars for a new ID to the school i go to. cheer up? please. hand me my ID so i can go to chemistry."
"read his ass!" she heard someone yell from the other side of the curtain, everyone heard bretman. she snickered hugging him on her way down the side steps.
"excuse me mr sacayanan!" the photographer exclaimed with shock. bretman peeled the curtain a bit, just enough so that he could see the photographer.
"babydoll, sir, ma'am, missy, whatever your preferred pronouns may be. my name is bretman and bret to you. now what you need to worry bout? getting my good angle, cus guess what? this kylie palette was expensive baby, and i spent a lotttt of time in that mirror this afternoon. so right now i need you to be mr camera man, not mr mouth monitor."
"ariana you think i should show the right side of my face? my last ID picture i showed my left. i'm running out of poses bitch i gotta stop losing these ID's for real." bretman dragged, genuinely worried.
ariana put a hand on his shoulder as a signal for 'calm the hell down.'
"bretman. bretman. you see them over there?" she pointed at a group of gay students practice posing for their ID pictures. "mhm mhm." bretman nodded.
"bret, honey, none of them seeing you right now. if they went blind, got a miracle doctor, and got 20/20, they still," she turned back around to point at bretman, "aren't fucking seeing you. bye, i got chemistry." she sassily finished. she knew exactly what to say to bretman, and she wasn't lying.
bretman, in awe, stood with his hands over his heart, his already present confidence skyrocketing after ariana's comments. "bitch i hope you pass them chemistry tests! let me know if you want answers or something! i'll steal a cheat shit for yo ass on god ariana!" he yelled as the laughing girl continued her walk out of the auditorium.
