Ink Flowers

Opportunities

A/N: what do you think, huh?

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She walked inside, one heavy step after the other, with her brown combat boots making noise every time she took a step. She walked forward, with her hands buried deep within her pockets, and Caspar could've sworn he saw the hint of a smile flash as this woman's eyes met Tyler's.

She stopped, mere feet from them, and when she left the keys of her new Harley Davidson on the desk in front of them, it felt like a peace offering. Punks don't tend to hang around pastel boys, let alone walk in a room where they'd be forced to talk. And this particular punk seemed to have a purpose to her coming in.

Tyler, not being a true pastel, but only a honorary one, received her with a smile and a "Hey, Louise! What's up?" As he waved, and Caspar internally groaned.

It's not like he disliked the plus-sized woman who rocked a dark denim jumpsuit, and tapped her fingers against her leg impatiently, but she was a punk. Somewhere in his mind, that was a good enough reason for him to not be her friend, although he had catched himself smiling at her comments or her mere prescience more than once.

Caspar seemed to have mixed emotions about more than one punk, it seemed.

Louise wiped her blond hair back, flashing the light pink at he end of it, and smiled up at them. "Just dropping by to ask something, if it's not too much trouble," she said, politely, and Caspar felt himself growing wary of her, not liking the idea of a punk being decent, although he had never truly seen a punk be indecent, or anything near rude or narrow minded. It mattered not though, they were punks.

Caspar knew he was being judgmental with this train of thought, but for the moment, he pushed that aside. "How can we help you, Louise?" He asked, and smiled out of politeness. She deserved that, she was a human being.

Being completely honest, Caspar wasn't sure what she could possibly want. She rarely ever let herself be seen around the school, not because she was afraid or because she didn't have friends (she had many, particularly, the Suggs) but because she was something else.

She was thunderous applauses and outfits that left you gaping, her make up changed from deep shades of blue to the brightest gold, and she always carried around a walkie talkie. This was so her baby girl could speak to her wile they were separated. This, of course, is what made her so different from everyone else at the University of Roehampton: a child, a baby girl, a little human being that depended solely on her, and what she would do next.

It wasn't that she looked down on the others for not having kids, or the other way around, but she was not only a single mother, but also a punk and a full time worker at the local mall, so this left her with little to no time to try and make new friends.

Now, Caspar had a little bit of punk knowledge inside of him. He knew that Louise had become friends with Zoe Sugg before university, and that she had always been eccentric and bright. She had what could only be described as a dark past, and she also had a little girl.

Caspar couldn't remember the name of her child, but he didn't try to remember it. It was none of his business.

"Alright. So, I have an opportunity for you, Caspar," she said, and his eyebrows shot up in intrigue. "An opportunity?" He repeated, his fingers playing with the seam of his ripped pink sweater he had put earlier on . Louise nodded, a smile flashing before his eyes.

Caspar answered back with a smile of his own, but quickly stopped smiling as he remembered that he wasn't supposed to smile at her. She is a punk. He is a pastel. They don't mix.