i want it all - gg

𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙛 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙨

"Dude," Salinger Humphrey said, having one of his deep, stoned thoughts. It was the Friday of their first week back at school and he was in Central Park smoking a fatty with his stoner friends. "Do you ever feel think the birds are like, watching us?"

Jeremy Wilder, a freckly blond senior with Mick Jagger lips, turned to him and raised a barely-there eyebrow.

"Like, with their eyes?" He said slowly.

There was a pause, as if Sal had briefly stepped off his train of thought and was buying a hot dog at the station before stepping back on. That happened a lot when he was baked.

"No, like they're watching us," Sal repeated. "Like they're robots the government sent to spy on us."

Hugo Tompkins, the son of a banker, widened his brown eyes.

"Dude, I totally know what you mean," Hugo said in a spaced-out kind of way.

Before Sal could answer, he felt a startling vibration in his pocket. His sister was calling.

"Scarlett?" He said through the phone.

The other boys exchanged a look. They'd all heard stories not to mention seen Sal's sister, the infamous Scarlett Van der Woodsen. She was hotness defined, and definitely, the reason all of them frequently dropped by Sal's penthouse when they were in the area.

Well, I knew it wasn't for their vast collection of modern art.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Dipshit?" Scarlett yelled.

"Huh?" Sal murmured, furrowing his brows.

"Why aren't you home? Are you baked?"

It was 7 on a Friday evening, he could do what he liked.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten the gala?" She sighed.

Shit. Shit. He had totally forgotten the stupid gala.

"Jesus, where are you?" She said. "I'll come and pick you up."

xoxo

After some struggle to get Sal to give up his location, Scarlett stuffed her stoned brother into a town car and took him back to their penthouse.

"You can dress yourself," she said sternly, handing him a black garment bag with his Armani tux in. Scarlett marched out, almost leaving angry burn marks where she'd stamped her feet on the carpet.

Sal rolled his bloodshot eyes as he slowly began to undress from his St. Judes uniform and pull on his crisp cotton shirt. He didn't know why Scarlett was stressing so much about this gala all of a sudden. Last week she didn't give two flying fucks about the endangered animals or underfed ducks or whatever they were honoring. What did it even matter if he didn't turn up to the stupid thing? It wasn't like she needed him there.

Maybe it's not just the gala she's stressed about, Sally boy.

Scarlett stared at herself in the mirror next door. She was wearing a baby blue mesh eyelet Dolce and Gabanna dress and her punky Chloé double buckle leather ankle boots. Her lake blue eyes were adorned with dark eyeliner and her perfectly formed lips were topped off with a nude MAC blushed color. She didn't have time to get her hair done earlier, so it fell in its natural waves and framed her face perfectly.

She looked stunning, but felt like running to the toilet and throwing up the pumpkin feta quiche she'd eaten earlier into the toilet at the prospect of seeing both Hadley and Gabriel in less than an hour.