𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄 <3

[ @ofecstasy ]
            
            “Yeah, ‘m new.”—she thought highly of herself, didn’t she? Or maybe she was just being realistic—“Stephanie.” He vaguely recognised the name, from some overheard chatter at the back of a classroom. So she /was/ Popular. He inclined his head slightly, tilted towards the floor where he could vaguely see and hear her twisting around and looking, trying to place him again with this new information. He didn’t say anything, satisfied she hadn’t managed, forming his mouth into an ‘O’ to push out wobbly smoke rings that dissolved far before they hit the ceiling. Her vague laughter, the smile in her voice, was a sudden change to the frustration he’d been greeted with at the door, and totally a little strange. He liked to cling to things, holding grudges tight until they burned him, but the possibility of ignoring her, glowering at the wall, seething—over what was practically nothing, but still /something/ little to him—was quickly skidding away. So he’d go along with it, a little; glean some information; try not to give too much away. “It wasn’ anything importan’. I don’ really know. People do stare a whole lot.” He turned, then, figuring it was O.K. to ignore their truce, seeing as Stephanie had brushed it aside so easily first. “Are you?”

@kandistars- 
            She couldn't remember seeing him before--she'd remember some weird try-hard kid, most likely. "O.K., Jesús," she said, but she thought it was funny, she was smiling where he couldn't see her. Just being here with someone else was funny. As it was, she proved his point immediately. "Dude, come on," she laughed, "you're new 'r something?" Breaking their agreement, she turned around for a moment to look at him sitting like that on the floor, her eyes curiously wide, his screwed up shoes and dismal expression. To think he had not seen or heard of her was strange, but not unwelcome. Not like there was anyone that looked or dressed like her. "I'm Stephanie." Her smile grew just a little, like she was teasing or testing him, then she turned around again. "So you skippin' something good or what?" she asked tepidly, blowing smoke at the ceiling. That was falling apart too, dingy dry cracks and spaces in the tile.

[ @ofecstasy ]
            
            He’d hoped she might have stopped trying to talk to him after their strenuous compromise had been reached—no luck, apparently. Company was company, he guessed. But did she have to be such a b/tch? He inhaled, listening to the faint crackle the smouldering end made, the click-hiss of the girl’s lighter. He tapped a little ash onto the floor, most of it landing on his shoes where they were tucked up under his knees, drawing out the quiet until it was intolerable, till he had to tap his fingernails against the metal still resting in his hand and speak to fill the enclosing silence: “Jesùs,” he answered to the wall, (realising after that he could have said anything and she wouldn’t have known, anyway). There was no reaction he really expected; he had no reputation, not yet, and he was hoping not to fall onto the social radar of the Cool kids, the Popular ones (capital C, capital P) for a while.  Assuming she was like what he guessed—b/tchy, sure, part of some kind of weird, untouchable clique, the centre of everyone’s attention—her presence might put a damper on that, should she go off and complain to all her ultra-Cool, ultra-vapid friends. “An’ you?” Only half listening for an answer as he crunched the cigarette under his shoe and lit a second.

@aclusterofstars- 
            //yessss ♡♡♡
            
            She looked, damn, really cute when she did that. And she was good at that whole innocent-flirting thing. It was sweet and fun to listen to, more so when she was speaking to him, her pretty eyes angled up to him. "Well, duh," he said, growing more sure the more he spoke: "It'd be no fun without someone else, anyway." He reached over, touched her hand, softer than he had handled her offering. He smiled, animatedly at her. "Like, if you don't mind two hours of blood and guts nonsense."

[ @ofecstasy ]
            
            // she def gets cards for everyone aswell >:]
            
            She grinned, looking a little pleased with herself. “I thought you’d like it. There should be two tickets in there,” she added, still beaming, “in case you wanted to go see it twice… or take someone with you.” The film might not have exactly been her favourite type of thing to watch, but she was happy enough if he wanted to go together — and if he didn’t, she wouldn’t mind too much, on a surface level. She’d have minded if he’d rejected the card, definitely, but the movie wasn’t as big of a deal. Whatever he wanted, really. She tugged lightly at the silvery necklace she wore. 

@aclusterofstars- //SOBBINGGGG
            
            His first instinct was to laugh, but pleasantly so. "Aw, that's...real sweet, Comet." He took the card gently, as though it were oragami, as though it were made of rose petals. He would think on what this meant later, but for now he flipped it open and a hard cardboard ticket slipped out into his palm. "Evil Dead IV!? That's so cool!" He couldn't stop a loose smile, one she tended to coax from him. He remembered telling her about it, like, /weeks/ ago.

[ @ofecstasy ]
            
            “Yeah, okay. Thank you.” She sat down on the couch next to him, tucking her legs up so her heels were just on the edge of the cushions, taking one of the cigarettes. Peacefully quiet, the room was, cosy and safe, but she wasn’t completely relaxed; it was the lack of the SQUIP that worried her a little, but it had been her decision anyway. This was was purer. Comet picked at the hem of her skirt, slightly anxious, but in the sort-of-nice way: similar to getting butterflies in your stomach when you thought about someone you liked. What /did/ she want to talk about? Nothing in particular, really. “I dunno. I just thought it would be more peaceful somewhere else. More private.” Her face flushed slightly as she looked over at Rack, still rolling the unlit cigarette between her thumb and forefinger. “If you’d prefer that, of course, but I don’t really mind…” She trailed off, leaning back with her heels still on the very edge of the sofa. Staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, before shifting onto her side and looking across at him. “Did /you/ wanna talk about anything?” 

@aclusterofstars- 
            //squip does TOO MUCH
            He didn't look annoyed or offended. He just knew that, well, Comet wouldn't do that, would she? And he didn't want to think about that right now, either. He wondered what it was that made her slow down, made her voice rush, nervous. He almost turned his squip back on to tell him, but stopped. Nah. This was what, like, normal people did. Pss, funny word. "It was," he said, stepping past her into the room. "You read my mind," he added, and winked. He was always very good at that. He looked around: sweet, chill-looking room. Soft couches and thin curtains. The lights from outside played and gathered in the folds of them, smattered to the floor. The brightness of his shoes were dulled momentarily, before his eyes adjusted to the low light. "So, what'd you wanna talk about?" He guessed that was what she wanted. Maybe it'd be good to let her take control or something. He dug around in his back pocket before sitting down, messing with a crumpled back of Marlboro Golds, but one wouldnt've been able to tell with all the scribbling over the pack. He offered it to her, looked up at her again. "Want one?"

[ @ofecstasy ]
            
            // the squip out of pocket for that one LMAO
            
            She smiled — she couldn’t help it — wrapping her fingers tighter around his. They were warm, she noted, and soft. Comforting. 
            ʜɪꜱ ꜱQᴜɪᴘ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ.
            Her concentration immediately diverted from wherever he was going. ‘What?’
            ᴀᴘᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ɪᴛ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ… ᴏꜰꜰᴇɴᴅ ʜɪᴍ. ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ, ɪᴛ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱQᴜɪᴘ.
            That wasn’t exactly what she was thinking. It was more like, whatever he did next was /him/; whatever he did wasn’t because someone was telling him to, and she wasn’t being… used. That was sort of what it felt like, when it told her to befriend certain people and cut off others. Using them. And suddenly she thought she’d rather switch it off.
            ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɪᴅᴇᴀ. ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏɴ.
            ‘I can turn you on again, can’t I?’
            ʏᴇꜱ; ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ? ɪᴛ’ʟʟ-
            ‘Shutdown.’ And then there was silence, or half-silence, the only sounds their two pairs of shoes scuffing the steps as they moved upstairs. Her senses felt dulled, but heightened at the same time: she felt every time Rack’s elbow brushed hers, or when her bracelets clicked against his wrist, and she could see all the little smudges in the carpet and all the threads in his shirt. Instinctively she shifted slightly closer as they reached the top of the stairs, pushing open the first door they found at the top, the closed one, tentatively checking inside but finding nothing except a pair of couches and a thick-looking rug. “Was this it? Or was there somewhere else?” she asked, more hesitant and careful about her words now she had no one to tell her what to say.

[ @ofecstasy ]
            
            “I guess. Seems a bit… pointless, is all. Wouldn’t you rather be doing something?” Lukas asked; seeming genuinely curious about it, even if it might have come across as ruder than he intended. His pen tapped on paper as he talked, looking up and focusing on Rack for the moment. “Um… but I suppose the sky looks nice today.” He never really stopped to look up, smell the roses, whatever. He scratched at his nails, finally leaning back against one of the trees, eyes flickering a bit between the bright oranges and pinks of the sky and the other’s face. Not in a weird way, he reassured himself quickly, just in a sort of appreciative way. He was grateful for the company, even if it distracted him from what he was trying to do. The pen continued to thump lightly against the pad of paper, soft as it punctured the half-silence. “I’m just writing, like… it sounds weird, but I’m looking at nature. Plants, animals, stuff like that. Trying to find something interesting. No luck here, though.” Nature always seemed more fascinating to him than actual human beings, more simple yet individual, unique. They didn’t bother with human stuff, they didn’t have to, and Lukas half-wished /he/ didn’t, either. Though he didn’t particularly mind talking with certain people, and Rack seemed to be included in that select group, for the moment.

@aclusterofstars- 
            "Huh?" He had said out of a sullenish curiousity, a petulant hard distraction. But now the answer just made him more curious and a bit more sore. "What do y' write?" he asked then, the words spilling themselves from his mouth, tumbling like loose thread before he could realize it. He didn't even really want to ask. And then he caught him staring, caught the way his pale cheeks grew colored, softly, like some small wildflower. It was sort of cute, and if Rack hadn't been so distracted with being annoyed and a little mean he would've lingered on the attribute that--judging by his frustration--the kid didn't like so much, if he noticed it or cared to define his feeling about it at all. But no, he had kept going and it pissed Rack off again, in a tired way. He sighed, flashing white teeth. "Hey, I'm not /doing nothing/, I'm--" But he could not define it, so he settled on, "--Sometimes you gotta just sit and think, man. Just, like, watch the sky." It dripped apart like a saturated watercolor. "Or whatever." The harshness was prevelant and sounded even worse after the silence. "You write fast."

[ @ofecstasy ]
            
            “Not drawing,” Lukas muttered, distractedly; he was always less awkward when he was preoccupied, concentrating on something else. “Writing. Just a little something,” he answered, and left it at that. Continuing to scribble on the paper until it was completely full, then flipping the page and beginning again. Then he glanced up, at the smoky rings Rack was making, frowning. His eyes darted from the cigarette, to the other’s features, the smoke again. The shapes it made were pretty, so was the sunset (and so was he; then Lukas blushed slightly, shaking the thought away with a little disgust). “What’re you doing?” His voice regained its previous, slightly shaky quality, less solid. “Are you… just gonna stay here doing nothing for a while? I guess fair enough, but seems a bit boring to me. Uh… no offence.” He offered a small, tentative smile, but the awkward silence stretched on a beat too long (for him, at least) and he quickly cleared his throat, shifting his gaze back to his notebook and scrawling furiously. 

@familyfreak- 
            "Then it'll give some color to your outfits, damn," she muttered. She pulled his hand back to her lap and started removing the nail polish, marveling at how well her hands fit in his. "You wear, like, the same thing every day. Pink will make it look cuter," she went on.

[ @ofecstasy ]
            
            “I’ve been told,” he answered dryly; he could detect the humour, it certainly wasn’t malicious. Even so, he scraped a little self-consciously at the remaining scratches of black. He’d removed them, gradually, only using his nails. No wonder it was f-cked. “Pink doesn’t go with /anything/ I have. It’s all black and grey. It’ll look out of place,” he continued to protest, glaring determinedly down at his fingertips, the short-cropped nails. 

@familyfreak- 
            "People find reasons to laugh anyway," was the first thing she thought of, and shrugged. She inspected the black remains on his nails like flecks of charcoal. "You didn't even take it off right," she pointed out. "You keep doing that an' it f_ck's up your nails an' they get all gross." She reached across her bed and splashed nail polish remover onto a tissue, and joked, "You're a mess, Connor."

@lipglossvalentines 
            Stephanie laughed, "Wish I'd seen that." With the harshness Chloe talked abour Brooke sometimes, it was nice to hear an actual joke. She didn't really like the chips, not that they were hot but because they didn't taste like much. She toyed with one between her fingers, staining them red. "You think anyone's tried t' smoke one?" It looked kind of like a joint

@familyfreak- 
            She thought maybe they understood each other some way. Some f_cked up little shared experience. Now she was supposing not. She drew on her cigarette and kept it low--teachers leaving around now. "I thought you'd say /something/ nice, or whatever," she said bitterly, watched him watch her. But her resolve broke fast, watching him mess with those bracelets, his boots crunch over the grime on the ground. He was getting mad, she thought. Or the pissed-ness would turn /into/ anger. "But... Can't you sit down here?" she asked finally, sounding softer than before, like he had worn her down when she'd done it in her head all along.

[ @ofecstasy ]
            
            He frowned, grumbled something inaudible, watching her fingers on the lighter. “What did you want me to say? I don’t know sh-t about how your brain works, or whatever. It’s what /I/ do.” Half-awkwardly, he tugged at one of his bracelets, chipped nails grazing against the black metal, staring down fully at his boots. If he was trying to be helpful, it didn’t seem that way, but he barely knew what to say; he’d never been a great comforter of people, save perhaps his sister, but he /knew/ her. It was just odd, confusing.

@familyfreak- 
            "That's not the problem," she said evenly, but when she turned her pale face up to him she was frowning as though he'd offered her something beneath her. "I /know/ you don't care. Big-f_cking-surprise, Connor." She plucked a cigarette and balanced it between her lips, focusing on her sparking scribbled-on lighter. "I don' give a f_ck about what I should be doing, I wanna be /able/ to care, though." A note of complacent distain took her tone. She wished he wouldn't speak so plainly, so roughly about it. He lacked, at the moment, the honesty that she had offered him. It bothered her, angered her even, but what was there to be angry about? What did she /expect/? "I dunno why I said anything, forget it, f_ck."

@-playrehersal //THATS INSANEEEEE

@ofecstasy 
            
            //one time there was a new boy at school in 3rd grade and 5 girls had a crush on him and it was so dramatic like one teacher had to calm down a girl over how hard she was crying over him

@ofecstasy //FRRR SAME

@lipglossvalentines 
            "Well, if /he/ was flirting with /her/...that's /his/ fault, isn't it?" She walked over and stood gingerly next to the bed before she sat down. She leaned over on her elbow, touched Chloe's hair. It was always impossibly soft. "And after all that with Madeline...? I dunno if he's...worth getting mad about..." she mumbled, less sure about that

@ofecstasy 
            
            “Well I /was/—“ Chloe sat up, taking a moment to look at the Kuromi pillow and then back at Jake. “— until I saw him talking to Katrina! He was probably trying to fucking flirt with her or something. God, if Kat was flirting with him too I’m going to kill her.” First going out with Madeline to ‘hang out’ (which Chloe highly doubted), now potentially flirting with Katrina? It was pissing Chloe off majorly.

@lipglossvalentines 
            Chloe was getting her mascara all over Stephanie's Kuromi pillow, but that didn't really matter. Stephanie stood awkwardly in her own room with her lower lip between her teeth. "I thought...you were over the whole...incident," she said slowly. It wasn't like an argument, just a question. People were already getting tired of talking about the latest Chloe-Jake-Public scene. And she was not. It had seemed distant for a moment, but now all the way back at the surface, as usual.