𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭.

𝙊𝙉𝙀: 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙈𝘼𝙉𝙔 𝙊𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙏𝙏 𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀?

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

INDIE LOGAN AND BANKS SCOTT BECAME BEST FRIENDS IN THIRD GRADE. the two described it as fate; to have crossed each others' paths on the playground. she didn't make much of an impression on her class with her introduction, unwilling to answer questions about life in the big apple and overall being short in her responses. indigo knows it's going to be a tough year, and then she meets banks.

he's this sunbeam of a boy, a gleaming smile with one front tooth missing and long hair that it was sure to hit indigo in the face. "you wanna play rockstars?" he questioned, holding up two plastic broomsticks that the kindergarteners used during their playtime. indie glances around the playground— certainly no one else would offer to play with her. besides, this kid seems nice enough. she nodded along, and the children begin strumming their fake guitars and thrashing their heads. the tune they sing isn't from a particular song, rather something they thought sounded good and just kept to it.

from that day forward, indie logan and banks scott were inseparable. even with banks' overbearing father and indigo's hermit-like behaviors, the best friends were stronger than ever, and nothing could change that.

well, so indie thinks. initially, indigo didn't think much of the fact that were three kids with the last name scott in their grade. there was banks, obviously, his twin brother nathan, (who indie did not like,) and another blond boy, lucas. indie catches wind of banks and nathan's dad, mr. scott, getting lucas' mom pregnant right out of high school and then getting the twins' mom pregnant during freshman year of college. she finds herself feeling sorry for lucas, but it quickly fades once banks weaseled his way in between lucas and nathan.

neither boy seemed interested in interacting with the other, preferring to acknowledge the one brother they had, and for both lucas and nathan, that brother was banks. he was the sweetheart, the picture perfect boy-next-door. you couldn't hate the literal embodiment of sunshine, and banks had this "youngest child" spark to him that made him impossible to deny or disappoint. unbeknownst to either scott brother, indigo logan is the only one who knows what hides behind his dazzling grin. she loves banks, albeit reluctantly, and what is possibly banks' most infuriating quality is his people pleasing. he's always jumping through hoops to impress anyone and everyone, but especially his family. not playing basketball like nate deterred their father, so banks insists on weight-lifting with his dad in hopes of persuading dan scott to take his interest in football seriously. similarly, banks will scour the school library for whatever classic lucas is currently reading; annotating it so him and his half-brother can talk about something other than their dad.

"so, how pissed is your dad at nathan?" indie asks lazily, barely looking up from the sheet music sprawled in front of her. the music indigo writes, or tries to write, is something better kept hidden, and by "hidden," indie means for her and banks' eyes only. banks is sitting at his desk, hunched over the count of monte cristo, scoffing whenever indie mentioned his twin brother. their dad's little basketball star stole a school bus after a game, got caught with alcohol and weed on the bus, and somehow managed to avoid suspension from the team. however, half of the team had been suspended, and now the ravens were in dire danger of having to forfeit their season. growing up, the boys were closer than ever. they were twins, for christ's sake! their bond weakened over time, as nathan was their dad's clone, and banks was much more of a mommy's boy.

he shrugged, "what makes you think my dad would be pissed? he's more pissed that whitey let half the team loose, not that nate hijacked a bus and almost wrecked it." banks makes a fair point, indie notices, and frowns at him. she shuffled over to the edge of his bed, sitting up right and patting at his firm shoulder. indigo isn't well-versed with words, or physically comforting people, but the light taps on banks' skin are enough for him. he knows she cares, in her own little indie way. hearing about banks' sibling issues makes indie grateful she's the only kid in her family— while she chooses to ignore how unpleasant she becomes when forced to share or be thrust into the spotlight. being the only kid really doesn't mean shit.