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Dapper Gawker


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                                                    xxxxxThere's a fiery e y e


                                                    IN THE MIDDLE OF A DARK SEA
                                                    xxxx AND IT'S pulling me down

                                                    xx SO I CAN'T BREATHE



                                                          The party had been a total disaster. Okay, so it hadn't been that bad in itself, but the fact that Olivia went on a tirade like that, swearing up, down and sideways that she'd curse them all, wasn't something that Car was terribly happy about. He wasn't a terribly superstitious person, but things that had started happening as a result of this "spell" that were rather disconcerting. Everyone knew that Olivia was actually a witch, or that she had a knack for getting some really, really strange things to happen, at the very least. Aside from the party, things had been going pretty well, all things considered. Well, unless you counted that weird, weird guy who was completely convinced that Car had kicked his a** a while back. Honestly, though, Car couldn't say that he remembered ever having fought the guy before. Of course, he could be wrong, but he still couldn't remember it.

                                                          On the bright side, the weather was quite nice today. The sky was that lovely bright blue colour, obscured only by a few small, wispy white clouds. It was warm, too, which was another added bonus. Because of this nice, warm weather, many of the students of the Fairview Community College were out and about, walking along the concrete and cobblestone paths that snaked across the school campus, sprawled out on the thick, green lawn, or sitting on the many benches that were dotted across the campus. On days like this, very few people remained inside, because if you did, you'd most likely cook alive.

                                                          Because of this weather, the "multi martial arts" clubs was out on the lawn, practicing out in the warm weather. While this was the university level club, that didn't mean that most of the members were any good. Most of the members were the kinds of people who thought that being in a martial arts club was going to get them a foot in the door with the ladies. Really, though, the fact that you knew the physics of a karate chop didn't override the fact that you were a buck toothed, pot-bellied jerk with no sense of personal hygiene. Nor did it matter if you could not properly execute a karate chop.

                                                          "Car! Watch and be amazed!" A certain member of the club, who was built similar to a walking stick, called, falling into an offensive stance. Car simply sighed, shaking his hair out of his face, and watched as the boy charged, prepared for the assault. In the end, he ended up tripping over his own feet and falling flat on his face, about five feet away from his target, which was most likely Car's face.

                                                          "Oooh," Car said dryly, stepping around the boy. "I am so impressed. What do you call that? The flailing iguana?"
                                                          Shaking his head, Car crossed his arms, watching the rest of the group with mild distaste. When he'd let himself be talked into this position, he'd expected at least one or two people who knew what they were doing to show up. Apparently, though nobody here knew what they were doing. Once again, it was a group of pathetic, desperate guys who wanted something to flaunt so that it would be "easier to get into a girls pants". If you had no respect for the sport, you ought to just drop out. That was what he thought, at any rate. Seeing as most of the people weren't terribly focused, the club split relatively quickly. It would appear that most of the members would rather run off and chase all of the pretty girl in short shorts than to actually put effort into practicing. This, of course, put Car in quite the foul mood. Then again, a lot of things these days put him in a foul mood.

                                                          Once he had showered and collected his bags, Car took it upon himself to find a good place to study for the upcoming physics exam. There wasn't really a whole lot to do, now that every single member of the club had vacated. There wasn't much point in practicing alone right now, seeing as, when there weren't a lot of people collected together, people would just wander up and get in the way. It was annoying. Taking up a spot near the art building, Car snapped his book open and proceeded to examine the examination materials.

                                                          [[yay for re-using my intro post from last time xD ]]
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                            The small house that the old woman lived in always smelled of traditional Chinese cooking, incense, and old person. Lan Fen had been in Canada for several weeks at this point, and she had still not quite gotten used to the cluttered little house. The house in the United Kingdom had been small, but very neat and modern. Her apartment back in Beijing had been a neat, book filled place that her parents had lived in since they had gotten married twenty-three years earlier. As adaptable as she had been proved to be through her years of schooling, she still felt like she was getting the rug yanked out from under her feet. "Lan Fen!" the old woman, who insisted on going by "Granny" shouted from the kitchen, "I can't find the ginger! Where'd I put the ginger!?"

                            Perhaps she lost her husband in the mess, Lan Fen thought with some amusement as she headed into the kitchen, stepping over a pile of good luck charms. Ginger... where did you even keep ginger? Lan Fen was not what one would call culinarily challenged, but she was no spice goddess. Back home, her mother cooked every night; making excellent Chinese cuisine, mixing in some North American flavours when the mood struck her. She was the ideal wife, Mrs Hsiang. Lan Fen took more after her father - leaning more towards dealing with people in one on one situations, and science. If there was one possible answer, she had a preference for it. While there were many questions - particularly in calculus level mathematics - that had various answers; sometimes even infinite, Lan Fen could deal with those. Unfortunately, there was no order to the eccentric old woman's house, and with no prior knowledge on the ancient art of ginger storage, she had to just start flinging cabinets open and sift through.

                            "I don't know," Lan Fen said, pulling out a handful of bottles and vials filled with unlabeled liquids. Everything smelled extremely strong as she sniffed it. "Where did you put it?"

                            "Would I be asking you if I knew, girl?"
                            Granny asked, shaking her head as if incredulous of this woman's stupidity. "Really, child! Aha! Never mind, it's in my spice rack!"

                            "Shouldn't that have been the first place that you looked?"
                            Lan Fen asked, cocking her head to the left, brown eyes wary; did this woman need to live in a home? A home might be a good idea if she didn't even check her spice rack for the ginger.

                            "Nothing is ever where it should be," Granny said sagely, nodding along to something that she hadn't vocalized. "Shouldn't you be getting to your morning classes?" she asked, pushing her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose, "I'll drive you."

                            "...ah. Sure,"
                            Lan Fen said, following as the old woman grabbed her keys, humming merrily under her breath as the duo headed out towards the ancient Ford pick up that granny still drove - though the thing probably would not pass for street legality.

                            ***

                            "Tiān a! Chē tíng xiàlái! OH MY GOD, STOP THE CAR, STOP THE CAR!" Lan Fen shouted, clinging to the door handle as granny tore through the streets of Fairview with absolutely zero respect for human life. "LET ME OUT! Ràng wǒ chūqù! LET ME OUT! Ràng wǒ chūqù! OH MY GOD LET ME OUT!" People were staring as the car pulled into the parking lot, with granny babbling on about cooking, her granddaughter, gardening, and, really, anything that anyone would listen to. She was driving with crochet hooks in her hands, and ran two of the only red lights in the town.

                            "Oh, be quiet! I'm a perfect driver! And you're a lucky child," granny said, "Now... how many more stitches... one... two..."


                            "PAY ATTENTION TO THE ROAD! ATTENTION TO THE ROAD!"


                            Granny cut off a group of bikers with tattoos and leather jackets, pulling into a parking lot. Lan Fen all but flew from the vehicle, toppling onto the pavement with gusto. "What did you do that for?" Granny asked, appearing confused that the exchange student had all but flung herself from the vehicle.

                            "No reason," Lan Fen said, grabbing her bags - and the books that had scattered - before booking it onto campus, running like a demon fleeing a holy man.

                            Now, she had escaped the old woman. She had merely to avoid her volunteered best friend, then there would be one day of safety in this insane little country. She set off in search of Phoebe - knowing that she was as good a mediator as it got when it came to their mutual friend. Shoving her books around in the bag so that it didn't look like they were about to make a mad dash for freedom, she wandered near the art building.

                            Ah. Sane person. Arguably. Anyone that got into fights for the fun of it had obviously been dropped on the head as a child - something that she would never say to either Phoebe or Carsten, but she believed it thoroughly. "Ah, hello. How is the tournament going?" she asked - good information was good to have. She spent so much time dealing with injured martial artists at this school - it was a small miracle that any of them had any brain tissue left/
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                                    tab Convenience stores weren't his usual speed. Places like that, people worked for their money. It was an honest living, even if the fuel prices were exorbitantly high. This particular place, however, just reeked of drug money. One upside to living on the wrong side of the tracks was that one often heard where things went down. Wandering around after dark sometimes proved fruitful, like in this situation.

                                    The family run business was operated by two generations of drug pushers and drug runners. The money was filthy - it was illegal to begin with. Drugs ruined people's lives. He'd watched people go down hill after getting hooked on a chemical substance many times. This family was built on drugs, and since there were no people from outside of the family working there, he wasn't exactly taken food from any starving child's mouth.

                                    Nate was outside, doing what he did best. He flirted up a storm, and distracted the hell out of the girl who was supposed to be running the service station. That left one guy standing behind the counter, looking completely stoned with his ear buds in. Gabe was standing about ten feet away, and could still hear the low notes of a song that sounded distinctly heavy metal fizzing out at him.

                                    Tuck was supposed to reach them soon . Gabe rarely went through with a theft without him. Nate had always been optional; he was a good guy, but he wasn't nearly as... dedicated to the cause as Gabe and Tuck were. They had years of experience between them, outwitting criminals, causing scenes. It was great to get help, it certainly kept things interesting. "What are you listening to?" Gabe shouted, and the cashier jumped.

                                    "What was that? Kayla's out there doing the service thing,"
                                    the guy responded, voice equally loud.

                                    "I DON'T HAVE A CAR!"
                                    Gabe shouted in return.

                                    This place was one of the better places to steal from, he supposed. Thanks to the high level of drug activity, they didn't have video cameras trained on the premises; a person didn't want to get busted by their own cameras, and tons of drug deals went down at this place. The cashier pulled out his ear buds, and shook his head, "The hell are you doing at a place like this if you don't have a car? I know you can't afford drugs."

                                    Like he'd want to in the first place. Drugs and alcohol clouded judgement, and he needed to stay ahead of the police, ahead of the law, if he wanted to get through school and move on with his life. There would be other ways to feed the neighbour kids if there was some kind of real revenue going through. No one in this bloody town wanted to hire him. No one had proved that he stole things, but the word got around well enough that no one seemed to question it.

                                    Working for people who didn't know him, who would only know him from the references that he brought, and his transcripts. That was the ticket.

                                    The guy from behind the counter had moved on past Gabe. He didn't look like a paying customer, what with jeans that had clearly started deteriorating from wear, not because of some style chase, and the same beat up jacket that he'd worn in high school. Neutral colours. There was a method to it. People always remember bright colours better than they remembered dull beiges and grey. "Is your friend hitting on my sister?"

                                    Gabe looked out the window, "Who? Not my friend."

                                    Of course he was his friend. Grew up in the same kind of neighbourhood. Difference was, people hired people like Nate. With puppy dog eyes and a rebel of an attitude. Not dreamers like Gabe who went to extremes for people who weren't even his blood kin. "Looks like it though. Better get moving. Don't want no baby making in the parking lot," Gabe flashed the man a bright grin. The man went white under his acne and spray tan.

                                    He headed out quickly, and Gabe glanced around for Tuck; somehow or another, he would have wound up there fairly quickly. "Watch the door," Gabe hissed, jumping behind the counter, careful not to knock anything out of place as he pulled at the drawers. Most of them were locked, so was the cash register.

                                    Quickly removing a safety pin from his jeans, something that had been presumably been placed there to stop a particularly large rip from flapping wide, Gabe started fiddling with the cash lock, eyes flicking up towards the door, and back to his escape route as he worked. The lock was no more complicated than that on a filing cabinet, and swung open fairly quickly. "Here!" he put the pin between his teeth, and set a wad of bills on the counter, "Shove it somewhere! I'm not allowed anywhere with a bag."

                                    That much was true. People didn't trust him anywhere near valuable things when there was an obvious place that he could shove them. There wasn't a lot in the register, but they emptied it any way. It was drug money, and had might as well go to helping some kids get a few more meals in a day. He glanced over at the door, and over the counter at Tuck, "Anything I forgot?" Usually Tuck would catch any mistakes that he made, like shorting out a camera, or whatever.

                                    Gabe was ridiculously glad that they hadn't been born in London, with the cameras everywhere.
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DARCY SOKOLOWSKI


                                            He had gone to pick Courtney up that morning with every intention of. Well. Not really any intention of trying to explain the current mess of a situation. No one wanted the kind of boyfriend who got drunk and wound up kissing his gay friend. His best friend. Let alone a presumably heterosexual boyfriend who got drunk, kissed his best friend, and liked it.

                                            Telling her seemed like the good, moral thing to do. Unfortunately, things were rarely that easy. He knew that as soon as he saw Court, he'd lose any resolve that he had managed to muster up over the drive. She was nice. Really nice. How was he supposed to sit there, watch a nice face like that, and tell her that he had in effect, cheated on her with a guy.

                                            He had asked his Grams what constituted cheating. She'd told him that if it was something that you wouldn't do in front of your girlfriend, it was cheating.

                                            She had also told him that Hugo was a very nice boy. How the hell she'd figured that one out, he would never know. The woman was psychic. Or something. Or she'd been watching the a creeper. Also not entirely unlikely.

                                            He steered the truck up Court's driveway. On days that they both had classes, he borrowed his Grams' truck - which Courtney found, for no particularly obvious reason, adorable - and drove her to the university. The truck always smelled like baking, and, oddly, knitting. There was always a ball of yarn popping out from behind the seat. It was a three seater, and it had been a long time since Darcy had dared clean behind the old seat. Last time it had been the assault of the dust bunnies and half knitted scarves.

                                            Putting the truck into park, Darcy headed up to the Ellis' front door. He knocked three times, before stepping back - the door swung the other way, but he'd been smacked in the face with enough doors to give them an appropriate swinging area. Even if the hinges made it physically impossible to swing that way.

                                            Maybe it would be better to try to tell Court on the drive home. That way, she could storm out of the truck and just go cry in her bedroom. Either that, or completely not care, and leave him the one freaking out in a bedroom. Neither option seemed particularly viable - but that at least left time between when Court could possibly tell her friends - how girls got the gossip line going at sonic speed, he had no idea - what had happened, and the time that he had to show up for his first class, tell his Grams specifically what kind of moron she had raised, and time to convince his best friend that he was still his best friend.

                                            Because he would be. Sparks or none.

                                            Well, he supposed that that was up to Hugo to decide. Whether or not he was pissed off at his friend who had officially vowed off of alcohol - his parents had died in an alcohol induced car accident, and he had royally screwed things up by being the gay drunk - clearly, alcohol was something that was no meant to mix with his family.

                                            The door swung open, revealing Mrs Ellis, Court's mom. "Picking Courtney up again?" Darcy nodded, not wanting to accidentally spill the whole situation out on Courtney's mom's lap. That would be awkward. And he was pretty sure that someone had a twelve gage somewhere in this house. Everyone that he was close to seemed to have a parental unit with a gun. "She'll be down in a minute, come on in," she motioned for him to come in, like she usually did when Darcy got there early. So long as he didn't trek mud all over the carpets, they tended to get along fine.

                                            He didn't say much, and she went around doing what she did. He kept his hands in his pockets, and she would occasionally prattle about the weather, or something mundane like that. Darcy was supposed to be the nice boyfriend. The one who met the girlfriend's parents, was nice to their pets, held the door, got stuck on runs for "feminine products" and other such nonsense. Nothing to ask about with a guy like that. The guy whose sexuality got called into question drunk... well, there were probably a few questions that they would be asking when that got called to light.
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                                      a dark world aches for a splash in the sun, oh, oh
                                      a dark world aches for a splash in the sun, oh, oh
                                      a dark world aches for a splash in the sun, oh, oh

                                            ヽIf I could find a W A Y
                                      xxxxxxx⊱ ` TO SEE THIS STRAIGHT I'D RUN AWAY TO SOME FORTUNE ★★
                                      that i should have found by now that i should have found by now !
                                          so i run now to things they said could restore me restore life to the way it should be
                                      I'Mxx WAITING xx FOR xx THIS xx COUGH xx SYRUP xx TO xx COME xxDOWN


                                                Lying on his stomach beneath the massive growth of hedges that rimmed his property like the Berlin wall blocking all from entry - unless one had a specific key or warrant. Luke had more than once seen a person attempt to force their way through the hedges, only to meet the unfortunate fate of having thorns where thorns had no right to be. After years of living in this place, Luke couldn't even force his way through the hedges as a shortcut. At least, not without opening up so many gashes that he looked like a dequilled porcupine. Digging in the dirt, he dropped a variety of seeds into the ground below the hedges; there was a good sized gap that no one else seemed to have taken note of. Most notably, the neighbouring dogs had yet to turn the place into their own private sandbox. Ergo, it was the perfect place to start a little garden of plants that required next to no sunlight. Patting over the moist soil, he heard his parents calling from inside of the house. "You left your text book!" his mother shouted, accent heavy, nearly unintelligible by Canadian standards.

                                                "Which one?" he shouted back, army crawling out from under the hedge, dusting himself off; he had long ago given up on wearing white shirts. His mother nearly had heart failure every time he flung one into the dirty laundry bin. Apparently white clothes were meant to stay white. His unfortunate tendency to fall into puddles had destroyed her belief in the usefulness of anything white. Grabbing his backpack from where he had flung it on the ground, he jogged up to the house, where his mother was eyeing him warily.

                                                "What are you doing under there?" Mrs McGavers demanded, "What are you growing down there?"

                                                "Plants, just some seeds," Luke replied, taking the book from his mother and shoving it into the open flap of the bag. "They smell good."

                                                "If you and your buddies,"
                                                Mrs McGavers said sternly, "are starting a grow op on my front lawn, I demand sixty percent profit."

                                                Luke laughed, before giving his mother a tight hug - getting some dirt onto her pristine white apron, the kind that women used to wear in the fifties, but his family had never entirely grown out of - and darting down the driveway with the energy of an energetic small dog with Little Man's Syndrome. "There's nothing illegal in your hedges!" he shouted back as he disappeared past the black iron gate, ornately carved with a floral pattern that his father thoroughly despised.

                                                The McGavers family, like the others in the neighbourhood, were extremely well off. His line hailed from a far off shoot of what had once been disgraced Scottish nobility - his great, great, great, great aunt had run off with the Irish stable hand. Never run off with the Irish, no matter how many pints you have in you. Mr McGavers was a CEO for a company that produced agricultural equipment in the North American prairies, so a fairly long running joke was that they were Scottish red necks.

                                                His next door neighbour did not appear to be out on his porch yet - passed out or otherwise. "LEVI!" he shouted, loud enough to disrupt most of the neighbourhood, though people were quite used to his shouting by now. "ARE YOU AWAKE!?" he bounded up the stairs, and began rapping on the front door. "DID YOU HEAR YOUR ALARM CLOCK? CAN YOU HEAR ME?" As he knocked, his eyes dropped down to rest on a caterpillar that was making a hasty getaway across the porch. "ARE YOU AWAKE YET? ARE YOU AWAKE YET?"
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xxxxxxxxx kαiяi ҄ ҅ ҆



                                          Working. The word was something that Kairi knew very well. The dictionary defined working as the action of doing work for money value, however Tent’s was a lot more interesting. Working was a way to pay for life, if and only if you were poor. The girl did not know much about working, doing her best to make ends meet. She had been blessed with the luxury of never having to work in her life, her parents were rich, her family was rich, life would seem grand. Now, Kairi never took this for granted, she wasn’t a case of ‘poor little rich girl’ or ‘spoiled’ she still maintained a very mature attitude. She was mindful of her money and she did her best to partake in events such as soup kitchens, and not just to look good, but because they honestly made her feel good. Doing deeds for the poor made her feel like she had done something worthwhile.
                                          x
                                          After several minutes of hitting the snooze button, the small girl got up and began to get dressed for her day, not that she had too terribly much to do. She glanced over her image several times in the mirror, finding flaws here and there that made her rip them off and began to change again and again. Nothing was going right, she wasn't really sure if anything ever did. She finally settled for a simple look, it was cute even though it wasn't cluttered, and it left much to desire. The brunet enjoyed looking simple, not to flashy. She smiled halfheartedly at the image; the next part of her morning ritual would be the most difficult; forcing herself to have breakfast with her rather dim cousin Trent. She smiled and spoke in the mirror as though she was talking to him about boring things such as politics and the stock market; perhaps an expensive sports car that he most likely bought the night before. After what seemed like agonizing hours she heard Trent call her down, something he rarely did due to making the maid do all of those tedious things, it seemed as if it was finally time. The petite girl quickly put on some makeup and then skipped out of her room, seeming cheerful was easy enough; perhaps she was an actress in her past life.
                                          x
                                          “Good morning.” She chirped as she walked past the table and helped their maid bring things from the dining room. She caught Trent looking at her suspiciously from the corner of her eye and decided to ignore him. He wouldn’t have a clue about her plans for the day, she hadn’t even had one. The brunet girl took the phone from her pocket and began to type away at it as she sat down in her seat. “Elegant.” He said in a rather harsh manor, obviously making fun of her. She glanced at him and shook her head, “If you have something to say just say it.” She said matter-o-factly and looked down back at her phone calendar, she really had no plans, not charity work, no parties. Not a thing on her list to do. “You should take lessons from Daphne.” He said blatantly and she nodded, not to his thought but to Daphne’s name. Kairi began to type out a text message to the girl, hoping that she would be free.
                                          x
                                          To: Daphne
                                          From: Kairi
                                          Hey lovie, we should meet up sometime today.
                                          I want to go do something fun and get out of this dreary place I call home.
                                          Maybe we could venture to the other side, savy?
                                          After school of course, because I would never make you skip. C:

                                          x
                                          Kairi more than anything would have liked to skip school, just enjoy the atmosphere and perhaps she would, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to tell Daphne that. The girl would most likely rat her out to Trent who would cause a scene; he had a tendency of being over dramatic. She closed her phone and set it beside her plate on the table and began to eat, having random chit chat with her family as they all filed into their seats, eating away at the meal as casually. Kairi eyed her phone several times, almost positive that everyone else was probably asleep. After most of the family dispersed to go off to work Kairi got up, “Where do you think you’re going?” Trent asked blatantly and she returned his nosieness with a frown.
                                          x
                                          “School.” She said with a shrug, trying her best to maintain a fixed composure. She had no desire to go, she was in the mood to go around town, enjoying her day. “I’m going to work, I’ll drop you off.” The comment caught her off guard, “You? Work? I don’t believe it.” She said with a small smile on her lips which he returned with a roll of the eyes. “Go get your s**t.” He remarked angrily and she placed a hand over her mouth. “I beg your pardon.” She said with a dramatic bat of her eyelashes and a giggle. The male growled at her and she turned to go grab her things. She would allow him to take her too school, but she would find something better to do.

                                          █ ❀ █ T I M E ↓ ↓ S K I P

                                          After her first class Kairi felt as though it was safe to leave, she would deal with the consequences later. She headed towards the nearest coffee shop that wasn’t corporate bought and ordered a large Mocha Cappuccino; the brunet did her best to buy from smaller stores as much as she could. She began to type a message on her phone to Nathan, Daphne had yet to answer, she was probably busing herself with more important matters than skipping class, like actual class. So she decided to go with her next best option, a small smile on her face. She knew that he would most likely not answer simply because times were hard and cell phones were expensive, but she did hope that he would at least give her text some thought.
                                          x
                                          To: Nathan
                                          From: Kairi
                                          Oh Hai c: What are you up to?
                                          Can I join?
                                          I’m skipping class and I’m quite bored.


                                          (Merp. Anyone can run into her...)

                                          Music Clothes

.
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    xxxxxxxxxxx ★ Hugo Hervey ★ xxxxxxxxxxx



                                                Hugo had arrived at the restaurant very early. He didn't have work that day, but the chef didn't seem to mind him coming in and out of the restaurant as he pleased. The chef even encouraged Hugo to do so, as long as he wasn't being paid during his free time he was there. Turning on the fryer, Hugo went fetched a pan of uncooked donuts from the refrigerator while the oil got hot. He made the dough yesterday, and when he opened the box, he smiled as the dough had risen during the night. Doughnuts were made best with fresh yeast after all. One by one, Hugo dropped the dough into the fryer, watching the dough sizzle from the heat and turn into a golden-brown pastry.

                                                Darcy hadn't spoken much to him since the party. Hugo wasn't really angry at him though, since he didn't really try to talk to Darcy either. Every time the subject came up, Hugo became tongued-tied and in the end, he just stopped trying. The pass three weeks since the incident had been rather lonely for Hugo, he didn't have any other friends to talk to, let alone anyone else to hear his problems.

                                                "You could always work here full-time." the head chef at Table Top offered, though Hugo had quietly declined. If he devoted his full time in the kitchen, then he wouldn't be able to go to school. If he didn't go to school, then he wouldn't be able to see Darcy as often. That reason alone was reason enough for Hugo to fill an empty desk in the lecture hall. Not to mention if his father and brother found out that he picked up a full-time job in something other than hockey, he would be in very big trouble.

                                                Once out of the fryer, he dipped the top half of the hot dough in condensed milk to form a glaze. Most people would use a powder sugar glaze for their donuts, but Hugo preferred this method instead. He topped the donuts in different ingredients. Some with pecan bits, some with strawberry cream, others in chocolate peanut-butter, and the rest he left plain. Placed in a box, he closed the lid and headed off to college.

                                                Hugo had to be careful about trending by so many people on campus, particularly when he brought food with him. Otherwise everyone would be asking for a bite. By the time he would get there, they'd all be gone. He took the long way around, and stepped inside the dark theatre department. Darcy often picked up Courtney before school as any good boyfriend would for their girlfriend, it also gave him a reason to spend the rest of the day with her since he had to take her home as well. Hugo hoped to catch both of them together as Darcy would no-doubt escort Courtney to her first class.

                                                Hugo was happy that Darcy had a girlfriend, though he'd be lying if he said that he didn't feel a little bit of resentment. They shared that kind of relationship that Hugo wanted with Darcy, and for the slightest moment three weeks ago, he got to experience that with him. It was the kind of kiss that caused butterflies in your stomach, and your sense to overload in heat. Some people would blame that on the alcohol though. Unfortunately, it was all a mistake to Darcy; they were friends. Best friends, in fact. And they would always be friends forever.

                                                Hugo didn't want to cause Darcy any trouble between him and Courtney. Eating was one of the many things that Hugo and Darcy did, and he felt it was about time for all three of them to enjoy each others company. The donuts served as merely a peace offering, to try to get on Courtney's good sides, as well as tell Darcy that despite what happened, everything was alright between them.

                                                He'd do anything for Darcy. Even if it meant being only his best friend.

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