a perfect sonnet

[X x __ compos M E N T i S]

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When you were a kid, did you ever really believe that anybody ever had their happily ever after? Did you think you could? By now, you know better than to expect perfection in every relationship, at the end of every story.

The time is now. You're an adult. You live near the beach, in a little town where everyone knows everything about everybody. There's gossip on every corner, lies on every set of lips. People know when you're having trouble before you do, and nobody can seem to keep their mouth shut. You're grown up, but it seems like everyone around you is still working their way into their double digits.

This is the story of you. You and your seven best friends. There's nothing particularly spectacular about you-- no reason you should have your happy ending. You're not a prince, or a princess, you haven't overcome some incredible hardship. You're regular. You're average. Maybe you grew up here, maybe you didn't-- it doesn't matter. All that matters, here and now, is this: your life sucks. It's all in the shitter.

This is a story about hardship, and above all, reality. These eight people lead lives just like anyone else, and they're friends. They know everything that everyone else knows: don't let The Druggie borrow your car, don't leave your apartment to move in with The Fighter, and don't believe a word out of The Pathological Liar's mouth.

More than anything else, this is a story about love and fate. The whole town knows that these eight are meant to be together, but the question is-- how long will it take for they, themselves, to realize it? Relationships are made, friendships are cut off, and maybe The Druggie will sober up a second. Who knows, you're the ones pulling the strings.

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players

The Fighter » She defines secretive, and she spends most of her time hating the world. she suspects the motives of everyone, and no matter how close to her you think you, she won't hesitate to push you away. She's always picking a fight, if only to see how much tension a relationship can take before it inevitably snaps. No one knows anything about her, and she is the definition of trust issues.

The Egomaniac » You'll never one-up him, and no matter what you can pull out of your sleeve, you'll never convince him that you're worth s**t. He proves that there is such a thing as over-confidence. He coined the term sore-loser, and he's stubborn as ********. When with him, you might as well get used to being inferior.

The Shoppaholic » An upstart model with a problem-- she can't stop shopping. Competitive by nature, she'll do anything to get ahead-- and what that means is she must always be up on the latest trends, fashions, and sometimes that means friends. She'll do whatever it takes to stay on top, even if that means cutting a few throats on the way there. She may play sweet, but keeping an eye on her hands can get real trying, real quick.

The Lover » You put it simply, he cares too much. He smothers every relationship, and it seems like he takes everything a little too personally. He's a good friend, and he puts everyone before him, in such a way that he usually ends up suffering. Unless you've got a heart of stone, you'll find it hard to dislike him, but he's stubborn to a fault and doesn't seem to know when to back off. He thinks he can heal the world, but the world just seems to keep dropping him on his a**.

The Perfectionist » This girl is the glue that binds. She really keeps the group together, and some of them sane. She's the one that really introduced everyone, and it's easy to see why. You can't help but love her-- at least, at first. She's motherly, always knows just what to say-- but sometimes there's a little disconnect between what you're feeling, and what she thinks you should be feeling. She's constantly trying to fix everything, everyone, and can get a little too enthusiastic about it.

The Druggie » Always coming off some high, this guy's the s**t at slumber parties but can get to be a real drag in "real", adult life. License revoked, and often jobless, this guy is living in some other world where things like responsibility don't exist-- and it's his friends that get to keep him on his feet, even while he's scrambling for the next buzz.

The Doormat » She's too sweet for her own good, and she can't seem to see when she's being used. She's the blunt of most jokes, and everyone loves to have a laugh at her expense. People are tired of seeing her getting stepped on, but it's hard to curb a problem when you've never been without it. Since she was a kid, she was doing stupid little favors for people, and now here she is paying other people's bills, and suffering for it, herself.

The Big Kid » He's entirely too immature, and everyone's sick of how terribly inappropriate he is. He'll never grow up, and it's starting to be seen as a problem. He can't keep a job, and he can never resist going out to get shitfaced. Responsibilities are starting to pile up, but he's not going to man-up and deal with them, and no one can deal with his fart jokes and lack of restraint forever.

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cast & crew

xxxxxx
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Open Cast
xThe Fighter
xThe Lover
xThe Shopaholic
xThe Egomaniac
xThe Druggie
xThe Doormat
xThe Big Kid
xThe Perfectionist

The Relationships
xThe Fighter and The Lover live together, expect change.
xThe Perfectionist and The Druggie just broke up.
xThe Egomaniac and The Doormat are FWB.
xThe Shopaholic and The Big Kid are experiencing rough waters.

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There was nothing graceful in the way that morning came. Billy turned her head, and the world swam with it-- she cracked an eye but what little light filtered through the heavily curtained windows was blinding. Despite herself, she groaned unhappily. Pain pulled in joints she'd slept on all night, and her muscles ached with effort spent primarily in amnesia. She pulled her head from the pillow, where she'd tried to suffocate herself all night, and tried to look over at her bedmate. Something cold shot through her, chilled her sore muscles and tore queasy knots into her stomach. Danny? Oh, God-- christ-- what had happened? The last thing she remembered was a fight. Her palm resonated with a sting she could hardly recall-. Goddamnit. She fought the desire to curl up, wish herself away from the mess she'd created, but instead she dipped a foot out from under the blankets, and braced as she crept out and away from her best friend. She was ruined. For a moment, trying to regather her willpower, Billy sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for her clothes that lay deposited on the floor. It was hard to believe she had wanted this, even then. Was this how all of Danny's one- night stands felt? Her stomach churned with the thought. The kid was like a brother to her.

Billy gathered her things, dressed hastily, and rushed herself to the guest bath. A shower would clear her head, hopefully. She couldn't think straight. What would she tell him? Did she say anything? DId she lie? It wasn't uncommon for her to come home with Danny after a long night drinking, when her boyfriend had already excused himself home, with the excuse of work in the morning. So, was this just like any other night? Billy didn't chance a look in the mirror until the steam had properly fogged it, her blurred reflection had her looking a mess. Her hair's knotted tendrils fell down her back in a messy, ruined way that spelled to her sex. Stiff upper lip, kid. Billy took in a depe breath and stepped into the shower. Did she leave? Did she stay? Did she talk it out with Danny, figure out what they were going to do?

Would he even care?

Billy swallowed the panic that was rising her throat, forced herself to take even breaths. This would work out. She would make it-- it always did. She washed her hair in one of Danny's mother's shampoos, combed through her curls with her fingers, and found a clean towel. She felt better for the shower-- at least she'd had some food in her, the night before, even if it had already been too late to save her. After bathing, after redressing and attempting to tackle her hair with a comb, she almost felt normal. She almost felt like this could be any other night that she'd spent at Danny's. Waking up in the guest room, and waiting (usually in vain) for Danny to roll out of bed. Had he been as drunk as her? Would that have made it better, or worse? Did she really want to know? Of course, she already knew about the things Danny was capable of. How little he seemed to care for the consequences of his actions. THe way he bragged. As she folded herself back into her sweater, a shiver caught her, and she was glad for at least that bit of warmth. Even if it couldn't stifle the wave of nausea that encompassed her.

She would stay. She had to talk to him. It would calm her nerves before she had to face him. Maybe Danny would tell her what to do-- for the first time, she almost wished it. Billy stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the fan running, and went to the kitchen where she made coffee and found something for her head. The coffee tasted bitter, but weak like reused grounds-. She considered calling her dad for a moment. Not to tell him what happened (maybe to tell him what had happened), but just to regain some normalcy. They'd talk, like they always did, about sports, weather, work. That sinking feeling hit her again. Work. The past two times she'd spoken to Jerry, he'd asked her if she needed money. Like he knew. Maybe it was because of the times she'd called him, or maybe there was some undertone of despartion to her voice-- wondering how she would tell her boyfriend that she couldn't pay her half of the rent. Trouble comes in threes. What else coudl go wrong, today? Billy downed the rest of her cup of coffee, and poured herself a bowl of cereal. As if more milk could settle her stomach. Maybe she should text her boyfriend, let him know that she was alright-- that she was coming home soon. That was, of course, if she could find her phone at all. She found herself drumming her nails on the counter, letting the cereal go soggy in the bowl. When was Danny going to wake up?

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Avery Tyler Cole was a perfect storm. She leaned into the bathroom mirror and breathed smoke on the glass, clouding her image in a aromatic haze. She blotted a peachy lipstick on and bit a lip, testing a pout in the new color. Unf. Perfect. No, really, she was perfect. She gently tousled her hair, this week a rich, dark red that seemed to fall in waves around her shoulders. She smirked into the mirror before putting the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. ******** bitches, get paid. Out, back in a more open room a photographer called, "give me sexy!" The audible flash and in the heat of the defusers and all that white light, wearing nearly nothing, another poor girl was coming nowhere near scraping the talents of her predecessor, now neatening up the lines of her eyeliner and tossing back the rest of her coffee. She'd been up eary this morning, considering the escapades that had accompanied that night before. Things to do, money to make. She slipped out her phone and shot a quick text to her layabout boyfriend, hoping that (for once) he might have managed to do something right.

Avery lifted her bag back onto her shoulder (heavy with the pair of heels she'd bought this morning), and walked briskly out of the dressing room. "Leo, sweetheart, try not to miss me too much!" She would've blown him a kiss, but couldn't risk smudging her lipstick. The model on the floor rolled her eyes, and she could hear the photographer yelling something over her shoulder. Avery couldn't help her grin widening. Back out in daylight, the sun seemed to just starting finding the center of the sky, but was being overshadowed by a drizzle. Ho hum. She dug in her bag for an umbrella, and made the rest of the walk to her car with no less gusto than she had begun with.

The night before had been something of a blur. She would've remembered it better, had it no been for her own insistence on keeping the shots coming. Her speedy recovery had been thanks only to the pharmacy in her medicine cabinet, and the rest of Lyric's secret bacon stash in the fridge (which he thought was hidden under the deli-sliced cheese.) Her silly boyfriend thought himself much more clever than he truly was. Shame on him. But that was not the interesting part of the night, of course. The most inteesting thing had taken place early in the evening, when she had still been sober enough to remember. Billy had nearly attacked her boyfriend, and gone home with sweet Danny-boy. There was a mess in the making, and Avery could not let it go from there. Of course, she'd immediately spread the word, intent on getting every angle of the gossip. She couldn't be certain whether or not the news had made it back to the poor prince, or if he'd even care -- that would be the most interestng part of all of it. She couldn't wait o see the aftermath. The downfall once all of the pieces had fallen into place. It was truly what the girl lived for.

The drive back to town was long, but certainly not unpleasant. She was serenaded by whatever silly pop duo was popular, and Pharrel's ridiculously high, unappealing squall. The rain made for no minor inconvenience, but seemed to have kept a lot of the lunch crowd off the roads. Work had her travelling a lot, but with it came opportunity -- and she was not one to complain. She parked her car in the dingy, dirt-paved parking lot of the apartment complex and climbed the stairs with a fierce ambition to not get wet. She had mostly succeeded, but was greeted by something that threw clouds over her perfect morning. Through the door she was greeted by the smell of sour laundry, and the stale scent of trash that had been sitting too long.

Although she was loathe to trust that any surface in the apartment was clean, Avery dumped her purse in a nearby chair and slammed the door behind her, keys jingling in her closed fist. "Lee!" Her tone was disgusted, only a shade or two from repulsed. Indignant, as if the messiness were a personal attack on her, Avery walk back toward the bedroom, where her boyfriend was still a lump under the pile of blankets. She hadn't paused to see if Jon were still sleeping on the couch (for what felt like the 800th night in a row.) "Lee! You said you were going to take care of all this laundry!" The response she received from him was mostly unintelligible, but she could guess.

Avery was all ambition. She didn't know how she'd ended up with such a lazy slob. Lyric was motivated solely by food, it seemed. He was more like a dog than a reasonable adult, and if left to his own devices, actual mushrooms would start growing out of the sink before he'd think to maybe pour a bit of drain-O down there. "Get to it? Now, please?" As much as it sounded like a request, her response was most certainly not one. No, Lyric didn't know it, but his girlfriend was neary at her wit's end with him. She hadn't signed up for this; to take care of some manchild. Not when her career was just budding into something that could really get her somewhere. Absolutely not. How did the other girls put up with their boyfriends? Surely, not with as much difficulty. She was really suffering, here. Avery dropped herself in a chair at the tiny dinette, and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. "Babe? Please tell me you're out of bed."

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x

xxwe're just a million little gods, causin' rainstorms
xxxxxwe're turning every good thing to rust

Somewhere else, somewhere far away from all of the nonsense that was keeping his friends up at night, riddling their dreams with guilt, Lyric was in heaven. In a fantastic world of infinite doughnuts and 8-bit sidescrollers. A world that disappeared with a call of his name, vanishing like smoke, unreachable though he turned over and buried his face in the pillow, desperate to retrieve it. To be back there. From the front door of the apartment that was too small to fit the three people that were often living there, Avery was calling for him. Lyric groaned, resisting her call with every ounce of his willpower -- doing everything to deny her the satisfaction, save yelling his rejection back.

Pfft. Laundry. Who had time for it? He was just going to get it dirty again, and he still had clean clothes left. But that wasn't Avery's point, no. Her point was that he hadn't done anything that benefited her particularly in more than sixteen hours, and that simply wouldn't do. Lyric didn't remove his face from the pillow, but called back something to try and appeal to her human side, "mmfarghuh, baemb!" It wasn't as convincing outloud as it had sounded in his head.

It wasn't really that Avery was all that demanding, it was just that Lyric didn't have the faculties to be the kind of person she was trying to make him into. Like trying to teach a newborn infant to work a customer service desk, and telling him that after dinner he was expected to vacuum, dust, fold the laundry, and feed the vicious pen of wild wolves. It just wasn't going to happen. Avery hadn't accepted that yet, and when his pleas did little to move her, she called again from the living room. Get to it. Now. She sounded exasperated -- even now, even half asleep and munching on his pillow, Lyric was utterly baffled by her response. Exasperation? Over laundry? Why did it really mean that much to her? She was way out of line. Overreacting. The woman was crazy. She should have herself a good long sit, play some animal crossing -- go fishing, maybe. That was how he relaxed, and it would have the upside of helping him appease the evil hoarder demon that was Blathers. ******** that guy.

But it was too late. Lyric was already reasonably awake, and now too much so to go back to bed. She'd successfully ruined his morning. Lyric whined something to himself in the pillow, faintly reminiscent of all of the other times he failed to act like an adult in the face of minor responsibility -- truly a talent of his. He was going to have to do it. He was going to have to get up. From the living room, which was also technically the kitchen and dining room, Avery gave one last attempt to diplomatically achieve her goals. The next step would be coming in and dragging him out of bed, and although that had once been a good thing with many great and wonderous possibilities, such was no longer the case. It would mean exactly what it said. Sexual euphemisms were long since in the past of this couple.

Resigned, miserable; his life very possibly ruined, Lyric made the difficult climb out of bed. "I'm coming!" He called back, but his voice was still somewhat a grumble, a combination of his annoyance at being disturbed, and his sleepiness, which clung desperately to him. He half-stumbled to the door into the living room, and looked into it at his girlfriend, sitting at the dining room table, looking annoyed. He wore only a pair of sweatpants, his hair an absolute wreck, and the chain around his neck pulled around backwards with anchor facing the exact wrong side. "Hang on." He mumbled one last protest and leaned against the door frame to rub the back of his forearm against his eyes, forcing the last of the will to sleep out of him. He was up for the long haul. Avery, to him, looked immensely satisfied. So the most natural thing to do was to stumble fully into the room without making eye contact with her -- pouting while she gloated. She wouldn't feel bad, he knew, but it never stopped him from trying.

In the process of picking up a seventh or eigth pair of board shorts off of the living room floor in front of the couch (who knew how they got all the way out here) he spoke over his shoulder back at Avery, who looked nearly immovable. "Babe, if you loved me, you'd start a pot of coffee." Though he knew she was immune his charm, he made an extra show of laboriously gathering the clothes, and even taking the time to straighten one of the pillows. With something of an annoyed grumble, he could hear Avery getting up to go to the kitchen, and for a moment he resisted the intense urge to push the pile of dirty laundry under the couch and out of sight. Only the tightness of the opening discouraged him, and he wandered back to the bathroom to dump the laundry and brush his teeth.

In a style that was typical of Lyric, he didn't remember much of the night before. Avery had drank, sure, but Lyric had had significantly more. He didn't have much by way of inhibitions to start, but when the drinks started flowing he seemed to forget how to decline. The night had ended late for him, later than many of the others, and had ended playing Skyrim back home while Avery shrugged him off and slept. He'd been sober by the time he'd gone to bed. Of course, he'd heard the rumors that Avery was spreading. Maybe it was because he had been too drunk, or because he resisted conflict in all of its forms, he couldn't be entirely sure who had gone home with who -- and if questioned, would be unable to even guess. After dumping off the laundry, he scrolled through his missed messages, but found nothing even vaguely of interest.

[RADiiO SiiLENCE]

x Clothing // [xx] || Company // [No one right now] || Location // [Park, then car] || Tunes // [xx]

Allura breathed deeply with her eyes closed as she let the fresh air ebb her hangover away in a calming way. That and the painkillers worked too. Once she was relaxed enough she opened her eyes and began going back to work, which was currently taking pictures of a happy couple that wanted a maternity photo-shoot from the company that All worked for. She tried to say as little as possible, not because of her hangover, but because the pounding of her head was making her stutter present and thus frustrating her to the point of it getting worst. She was just happy the couple understood and knew the hand gestures she did for them. Currently she was motioning for them to get close together, but seeing as it wasn't looking that great All simply went up and placed them where she wanted. Which was simply the dad leaning against the tree while holding the mom lovingly as both their hands made a shape of a heart over the ever present belly full of child. Once that was too her liking All simply went back to her camera and snapped away, loving how they seemed to know to move about as the camera snapped away to capture ore images than just the one she set them up in.

Soon they were done and Allura, having a bit more control over herself, assured the couple that their pictures will be ready for pick up in about a couple days give or take. They thanked her and hurriedly left, saying something about being late for a "sex while pregnant" class. Though All paid it no mind as she was gather her things. She carefully placed her camera back in it's bag and slung that bag over shoulder and she collapsed the stand and began moving everything to her car, pulling her hood over her head as the light drizzle started making itself annoying to her. So after everything, save her camera, was in the car All quickly decided that she wanted to stay in the park a bit to take some pictures for a personal project. Normally she would be booked to do some photo-shoot with models, but at the moment she didn't have the effort to deal with some of the snobbishness that came to being....well them. Not that she had an issue with that. She was really close friends to one actually, Avery Cole. Typically she would be game with arguing with the models, but today with the hangover and personal life issue Allura Anders respectively opted out for something more relaxing and could better clear her head.

All slowly made her way to the playground, knowing full and well that children made the best subjects when it came to pictures. Mostly because they over thought or under thought what they should do in front of one. Some even being extremely talented when it came to having a picture taken. From funny faces, to even funnier 'serious' faces some tried. They seemed to keep All's mind off of things she needed to keep them off of. But currently she made her rounds with the parents she could spot, explaining to the what she was there for and asking permission to take pictures of their child. Showing her business card for proof that she wasn't some weird child stalker and that all pictures will be sent to their parents without charge. The last bit almost always made parents agree, and spread the word giving All more room to work with snapping pictures away.

She quickly set up camp near the play fort that resembled that of a pirate ship. Once she was sitting comfortably on the floor, camera in hand she began snapping away at a silly imagination game that was going on. It seemed like the group were trying to recreate a Peter Pan scene. What was interesting was that, it seemed like a girl was playing Pan. And with that distraction and that of the rest of the kids as Allura made her way around the playground, making sure to still get permission from parents, her mind seemed to stay off what she didn't want to think about. Well it did for a bit until it came crashing into her head like the Red Barron in the old Peanuts Gang comics whenever it would be shot down.

The night before seemed to have blown up, on everyone it seemed. From Billy and Will having a go at each other(which wasn't really all that new), to Danny being a flirt with...well everyone and pissing Jon off more than anything(again....not all that new either) to Billy attacking Abby for spending too much time with Will which got Jon involved, to even the annoyance in Avery's voice as Lyric acted like his childish self. It was something Allura didn't like, she wanted to fix it. The group shouldn't be fighting, they should be....well friendly. But she was one to talk, and she knew it. She was currently being, what she assumed, a b***h to Jon. Her ex of about two days. All had done everything in her power last night to avoid him like the plague, and when asked about it simply shrugged it off and said "There is no problem. I just want to do my own thing tonight. Not a crime." But there was a problem, one she wasn't ready to hash out anytime soon. If anything she assumed the group thought she had finally had enough of Jon's "little" problem, which made her laugh. If that was the true problem then they wouldn't have lasted past the first date, let alone the second. No the problem was simply that he sold something he shouldn't have, and couldn't understand why she made a big deal over it. Which she hated, in her mind he should just know. And that was a big enough sign to her that they shouldn't be together, and it seemed like it was a sign for him too since they mutually agreed on the split which resulted in Jon moving out of their studio and most likely bumming off Avery and Lyric's couch.

Allura sighed as she shook her head as she backed up a bit to capture two girls getting ready to launch themselves off their swings. She waited, and snapped several pictures of the whole thing before deciding that she was done for the day as she packed up everything. It wasn't until then that she finally looked at her phone to see the latest gossip from Avery. Seems like Danny and Billy went home together, which wasn't all that surprising if it wasn't for the fact that the gossip implied that they most likely hooked up for the night. Which made All sigh, and grumble under her breath as she made her way to her car. Quickly shooting a text to Avery with the intent of nothing more but getting caffeinated.

To: Avery
From: All
Message: I need coffee, and not whatever's crawling around your house. Starbucks run with me? I'll buy!

o.o.c || If I need to change anything let me know please!

[RADiiO SiiLENCE]

x Company // [Bills] || Location // [Home] || Tunes // [xx]

Everything seemed to be fine at the moment, currently Danny was going at it with some red head while a brunette watched and all was right with the world. That is until he heard someone walking about his penthouse and this stirred him from his amazing dream. He grumbled and turned to bury his head under his pillow. But that didn't work as he heard the water start running. Sure it wasn't in his bathroom, but seeing as the place was silent it might as well be. The slight hangover didn't help either.

"Abbs be quieter for gods sake woman!" he yelled out in frustration as he turned on his side to sleep better, pillow still on top of his head. It wasn't until after the shower had ended and the noise started coming from the kitchen that it dawned to Danny that he hadn't come home Abby like he normally did. More so as images of what actually happened last night flood his head, causing him to bolt up straight in bed in what he could only describe as a mini heart attack as it dawned on him on dead he was. He had come home with Billy....his best friend for as long as he could remember. And him being naked with that revaluation didn't help in where he didn't want to be true. Sure he had drank last night, but not that much. Danny had known enough that once Will left that he would be the one to make sure Billy made it somewhere safe. Normally being his place. Which he was feeling a bit better about at the moment.

"Will's going to kill me!" Danny groaned as he drew his hair our of his face and found one of the hair ties he kept lying around to put the curly mop up. While doing so he quickly remembered that Will had gone home with Abby, and knowing enough had most likely ended up in the same position(not really though) that Billy and him had. All just like that all the guilt he had about sleeping with Billy was gone and replaced with contempt. Which was enough for him to get up and grab some clothes as he himself hopped into the shower to deal with some morning wood in his own shower.

Later he was staring himself in the mirror as he de-tangled his mass of curls before quickly securing the under his ever present beanie with the full intent of going out into the world. Yes he had slept with his best friend, but that wasn't going to keep him from what he needed to do for the day. Which was going down to his Record Shop to deal with a couple things he had been informed about the day before. He was feeling damn pleased with himself, though kinda bummed he hadn't had another go at Abby yesterday. But he guessed the universe righted itself just for him like it normally did.

Now Danny was making his way to the kitchen, now being controlled by his stomach, he spotted Billy seemingly staring off into space as she drummed her fingers on the counter and letting a bowl of cereal go soggy. She looked a wreck, like what they did was devastating. Though Danny knew that for her, being the one in a committed relationship out of the two, it most likely was. But it was just sex, monkeys do it all the time without feelings involved. So do rabbits, and no one complains about their hookups! Danny simply shook his head, but hit tongue and poured himself his own bowl of cereal and began chowing down as he let the two stay in silence for a bit as he ate. Though that quickly grew old as he finished eating.

"You know, I'm pretty sure cereal isn't suppose to be decorative art Bills." Danny commented as he pointed to the bowl of completely soggy cereal mush once he knew he had her attentions. "Can I just assume that we aren't going to talk about last night? Or am I wrong? 'Cause if we are, I just want to say it was sex. Nothing more, if we wanted it to be something more you would have stayed in bed with me for round 2...or would it be 3? Either way, it was sex. Friends have casual sex all the time, hell I do it all the time. And before you ask I am clean, and judging by the used condom in my trash it was safe. Nothing to cry over." he said simply as he turned to pour himself some coffee, not realizing what he had just said.

o.o.c || On the sucky side sadly....if I need to change anything let me know please!

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Billy was lost in her own thoughts when Danny sat down beside her and started at his own bowl of cereal. When he spoke, she looked startled and glanced over before looking down at her bowl. Mush was about right. She looked back at Danny with a small smile, humoring him, but it quickly faded when he started to speak. He wanted assume that they weren't going to talk about it, which was typical of him -- usually would be of her, but then he said what was really on his mind. It was just sex. That's what it had felt like at the time. Just sex. But now, in the aftermath, it felt like something much worse.

He seemed dismissive. Friends have casual sex all the time, it was nothing to cry over. For some reason, crying had occurred to her, and it was like a magic trick. Tears welled in her eyes, but she swallowed hard and stared down at her cereal, taking a moment to subtlely wipe her eyes. This wasn't like her, she told herself, she was supposed to be tough. Hard shelled and strong. She didn't feel strong, now. Before she could've thought to say anything, literally anything else, the words found air. "Will's going to leave me for this." She was shocked by the sound of her own voice, weak and almost quivering. Angry at herself, furious, she gave the cereal a quick stir and, in her own mind, commanded herself to toughen up. Tears were useless -- she wasn't trying to convince Danny of how poorly she felt. He was just going to think she was some weak-willed, emotion wreck. She wasn't sure she'd ever cried in front of Danny before, she made it a rule not to cry in front of anyone.

But Danny was gone, back farther into the kitchen to get himself some coffee. She didn't know why she'd stayed. If she'd wanted to talk about it with Danny, she didn't anymore. And if it were for any other reason, she was ******** it up. But she was right. Will was going to leave her -- maybe that was why this was such a big deal, why it was such an enormous failure on her part. He put up with so much from her, all of the awful things she put him through, even if she didn't mean to. And now, this? This was where he would draw the line -- say enough. All he wanted was for her to open up, act like a human being but she'd always thought it was too much to ask. She was being left, again, and it was still her own fault. Will was the first person she'd dated since she was a kid, since she'd been shipped across the country to live with her new family. He was the first real relationship she'd given herself a chance to ruin. And she was doing a good job of it.

Danny was right about one thing, though. If they'd wanted something more out of it, it wouldn't have gone down like this. It would've happened much sooner. Billy wasn't sure if she was relieved or not that she didn't feel any different about Danny, even now -- even if not under the current situation -- she didn't think she would've wanted to have sex with him again. She had room for little in her mind other than her worries about her current relationship, maybe already about to end. "I don't know how to talk to him." Billy had recovered, mostly, from her little emotional outburst, but when she spoke her voice was small. She was talking mostly to herself, but hoping that Danny could help. For all his strutting, his random sexual encounters, he seemed to be made of much better stuff than her. He seemed to know what he was doing -- she'd never seen him as combated as she usually felt. When she looked back at Danny, there was a small look of desperation in her eyes, but behind it, some resignation.

[X x __ compos M E N T i S]

Lyric was literally killing her. When he finally did drag himself out of bed, he only wet so far as the doorway before he put on his big puppy dog eyes, and his little pout and started around his work like a kicked hound. "If you'd done this a week ago, like I'd asked you to, you wouldn't have to be awake right now." Avery reminded him smugly, but didn't get up from where she was sitting. If it had been there a week, it was a wonder she hadn't just picked it up herself. But it didn't seem to be enough that the house was clean, she wanted Lyric to do it himself -- as if she could drill some lesson into him. As if anyone could. Ugh. How did she get stuck with this one?

The only real reason she had ended up with him in the first place was when All introduced them, had almost fixed them up together. Lyric was cute, he had good, strong features. The kinds like the guys she worked with -- but what had really caught her eye was the fact that he didn't seem to know it, he didn't act like the guys she was used to. Entitled, and proud. Above everyone else. She had wanted to date someone that acted like a person, but what she found was that she didn't like it as much as she thought she would. It took an insane amount of nagging to get him to do anything productive -- he was like a kid who left his toys strung across the house, and bitched and moaned when you asked him to pick them up. Over his shoulder, he was making a request of her, apparently tired of suffering in silence. In the living room, he was picking up scattered clothes as if each one drained the soul right out of him.

If she loved him. For some reason, the words had stuck with her in a weird kind of way. Nagging at her to reassess them, but Avery dismissed the thought with a groan and got up from where she had collapsed. Today was just not the kind of day for work. She wondered what Allura was doing. Avery dragged herself from her chair and to the kitchen where she started a small pot of coffee, sludge. They used the cheapest grounds that made for bitter, awful stuff. But it got them through the day, at least. Not to mistakenly say that it was at all edible. Avery reached for two cups from the cupboard, but grabbed the only the clean one, and decided stubbornly that, no, she didn't want any of that garbage, today.

When Avery returned to the living room, Lyric was gone -- probably returned to bed. Her phone, on the table, went off with the chime of a text message. It was from All, wanting to go out for coffee. She wanted coffee, but none of what crawled around Avery's house. She chuckles to heself and wrote back, while wandering back to the door where she had dropped her bag.

To - All
You have perfect timing, Lee's making me crazy. I'll see you in ten. -Av

Lyric had just wandered back out of the bedroom, looking a little lost, when Avery had loaded her bag back onto her shoulder and pocketed her phone. "I'm going to go meet Allura for coffee. Start the dishes while I'm gone?" To be honest, she missed the bragging she'd had to suffer through, when she was dating the guys from work. She missed the confidence, and the pissing contests. Lyric was something of a doormat -- eventually, he did what she told her to, but he never had any ideas of his own. He was boring. She couldn't even properly have arguments with him. He grumbled something that sounded like agreement, and Avery waved half-heartedly and started out the door. It didn't occur to her to tell him she loved him, or to kiss him goodbye. He wouldn't miss the lack of a send-off, either.

The Starbucks All and Avery met at wasn't far from the apartment, but it was closer to the scenic side of town that they were both so familiar with. It was a good place for pictures, and locations seemed to rule both of their lives -- both as a photographer and model. Avery pulled up and walked in with only a glance around the parking lot or Allura's car. She seemed to have arrived first. It was a little bit of a wonder that the pair were friends. One caused trouble, and the other one was perpetually trying to fix it -- maybe it was because Avery gave All plenty to work with, plenty to do.

[tubercular skies]

CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF Abby did get drunk off her a** the night before, but Will just helped her home. He wasn't the type to sleep around on his girl. Hell, he wasn't even the type to think about it. Actually, he was the type to see some shaking tits in his face and say, "Wow. Ma'am. Maybe you should holster those puppies?" Hah. Then Will would immediately make a baduhtiss movement and exit the area. Love sick little puppy.

Will was a romantic. A huge romantic. Plus, he enjoyed having fun. If there was something new he wanted to try, he would certainly go do it as long as he had someone to do it. Will wished he felt that happy love sick feeling at this moment. Instead he woke up on his own. His arm reached out to find nothing. Billy ought to have been there. What happened to her? Will knew, but hated to admit it. There was an aching pain in his heart that just wouldn't go away. It panged hard and pulled at the rest of his organs and gave him a stomach ache.

Upon returning back to the bar, Jon was more than happy to tell Will that Billy ran off with Danny. Danny? Danny? Danny of all people. Will's jaw grit hard and his eyebrows furrowed. Big boys don't cry. Billy was someone he fell hard for. Hard, hard, hard. God, if he could say he ever loved anyone in his life, it was her. Billy was exciting and independent. Will still liked to dote on her. It was his thing. He liked to bring her gifts; he liked to bring her flowers and chocolates. He liked to take her out in public and have fun with her. Will always would rather take her somewhere fancy, just because that was what dudes did when they loved their girls. Billy wasn't always a huge fan of that, so will adapted.

Obviously he was losing her. Will flipped over in the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Obviously. To Danny, though? What did Danny have that he didn't? Will's face scrunched up as he began to think. Matted hair? A sense of confidence that made everyone around you physically nauseous? Okay that was mean. That wasn't a very nice thought. Will's eyes closed and he sighed heavily. Hell, he couldn't even hate someone without feeling bad.

The ache was still there, though. He sat up and massaged his heart trying to shock it back to life from the ache. It didn't do any good. The girl he was in love with was sleeping with another guy. Will placed the blame on himself. He was missing something. There was something core missing from him that Danny had. Danny. Each time Will thought the name he got angry, his face frowning. It didn't last long.

Eventually he pushed himself out of bed and moved to the kitchen to make some food. He pulled out eggs, green onions, cheese, and other things to make an omelet, but stopped suddenly. His blue eyes gazed over to the food. Was he hungry or was he just eating because it was breakfast? No, he wasn't hungry. If anything, his stomach felt queasy. Everything was placed back in the fridge and Will went through the processes of getting ready. Shower, shave, and put on something. He haphazardly picked out clothes, his mind crossing over to what Billy was doing and if she actually had cheated.

Did she?

Will began to think heavily on it. If she hadn't, then he was jumping the gun and blaming her for something she didn't do. Just because she went home with Danny didn't mean that she had sex with him. Everyone thought that Will and Abby hooked up, but they hadn't. This could be a case of that. Billy had been drunk though. Really drunk. Will knew what that meant.

Yet another heavy sigh. Damn it.

It was all that was on his mind. He passed a stack of books he was supposed to be editing. That was how he got his money. Will was quick at it and blazed out edited copies of books in minutes. It got him pretty decent money, too. Nothing too substantial. The publisher once got a copy of a book Will wrote and had been hounding him to write another, but...he had other things on his mind.

Will was fairly talented. A sensitive type. He could play the guitar and sing as well as write; songs, poems, novels. It didn't matter. However, he lacked confidence in himself. His girlfriend cheating on him didn't really help the issue.

WHY WOULDN'T THE ACHE STOP?

Will moved to the dresser and slipped on his striped hoodie. He stood there for a moment, staring at a dresser drawer. After a moment or two, he pulled the drawer out. In the very back, stuffed behind dozens of shirts sat a little silver box. Inside the box was a ring. The ring had diamonds in it. You could guess what kind of ring it was. His eyes stared at the little sparkles while he contemplated his life. Was this a mistake? Had he made a giant mistake? The ring could always be returned he supposed. Will didn't really want to return the ring. He stuffed it back in the very far back of the drawer with shirts piled to keep anyone from easily finding it.

Ugh! Will ruffled his wet hair and snatched up his black glasses. Coffee. He needed coffee so bad. He grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys and passed out of the door, locking it behind him. Will owned a little car, but rarely drove it. Walking gave him time to think. His head bowed he thought on whatever had to in order to keep Billy from crossing his mind but everything made him think about her. "I'm too pathetic," he told himself, a little frown on his now childish face.

Walking into the coffee shop, he ordered his usual. Black coffee. The type didn't matter. It all tasted the same to him. "Do you have a notepad and pen?" he asked the barista. She smiled and handed him a sheet of paper and a pen with the Starbucks logo. "Thanks," Will smiled and sat in a table near the back. The pen tapped on the table and the blank page stared back at his sullen face. Write stuff down. That was how he would get his mind off of what was circling the drain.

[tubercular skies]

outfit

Waahhhh! Abby just wanted to cry. She felt so bad. Her stomach felt so queasy. She drank too much the night before. What had happened? Well, she remembered something distinctly. A few things actually. One, someone helped her home. Who? Abby sat up in her bed, fingers tangling with her hair before beginning to comb out the tangles she'd gotten by sleeping. Will! That was who it was! Agh. Next Abby could remember someone knocking on her door in the middle of the morning. Early morning. No guess who that was. Jon. She whined and rubbed her face. Her head hurt so horribly! Once her hands moved away from her face she saw black streaks on her hands. Oh god.

Abby darted up from the bed and ran to the conjoined bathroom. Oh Jesus. She looked like a raccoon. A small whine came out of the small figure and she began to pull out makeup remover. This was going to end up in blemishes. Quickly, she wiped all the old makeup off and washed her face. What was left was a pale skinned girl who had dark circles under her eyes. No sleep and no sleep made Abby a very sleepy unhappy girl.

Shower! That was all she needed. Abby stripped from the clothes she had been wearing the day before and slipped into the shower. Moments later she came out smelling like flowery goodness. A deep breath and the moist air filled her lungs. God she loved her body wash.

After out of the shower, she got dressed and began to blow dry her hair. Somewhere in her house she could hear someone loudly complaining about the noise. Jon. Tch. Nothing made her angrier than when he would complain about her living. Normal sibling stuff, but she always gave him a place to stay. More than that, she constantly supplied him with money and food. In all honesty, she could carry his a** on her taxes if she wanted to. God knows she provided more than 50% of his living expenses. Any time he was sick, he came to her and she took care of it.

Abby justified it by saying that when they were kids, he looked after her, which he had. They were best friends before he got all drugged up and kicked out. Abby came to search for her darling older brother and found...well...Jon in his place. Some day the good big brother she could remember would return. She just had to sit through this annoying little NED. "Sorry! Can't hear you!" she called out to her brother as loud as she could without hurting her head. Lies. She hurt her head bad. "Owwww," she whined and rubbed her temples.

Jon and Abby had the same accent, naturally. They were from the same place. The only difference between the two's accent was Abby sounded educated. That was the best way to put it. She annunciated her words and worked hard to have the accent take a back seat where people could understand the words that came out of her mouth. More or less, she assimilated her language to sound rather American. It bugged Jon. Nothing bugged him more. He always complained, saying that she should be proud of where she came from. America was full of ******** idiots; his words, not hers. Abby's response was that people deserved to understand the words that came out of her mouth. It was a losing argument.

Today, she would dress a little more comfortable. To the best of her knowledge she didn't have any clients. The one yesterday set her for at least a few days so she would'nt have to pimp her art then. It gave her free time. Ooohh! Fabled free time that she always heard so much about, but rarely got to participate in~! That was if nothing happened to Jon or anyone else in the group. Abby enjoyed being the shoulder to cry on if needed. She heard break ups, get together, cheating, and the whole gambit. The only issue was that she always wanted to help. Always. There was no maybe.

Ding, da-da-ding~

What was that? Abby turned, turning the hair dryer off and ran into her bedroom. Next to her fluffy sheets which she hadn't made sat her phone. A text! From who? Danny. A smile grew on her face. Danny and Abby had what you called a ******** buddy contact. No, wait. Well, to him maybe, but to Abby they were friends. Sometimes she just acted as his little puppet. He was telling her to come over. She texted back, her fingers fluttering over 'sure! five minutes!' and then she dropped her phone back onto the side table.

"You make me feel alive, alive, alive, alive~!" she quietly sang and whipped around to a twirl. She wasn't wearing a dress so this didn't turn out as pretty as it would have last night. Scurrying back into the bathroom, Abby quickly began to paint her face again with her daytime makeup. In a few minutes she was ready, but she had to deal with one person.

Abby dashed into the living room to find her brother with a needle in his arm. "AH! Jon!" she yelled at him, surprised. "I told you to do that in the bathroom if you had to!" she snapped at him, her hand hiding whatever he was doing. A muffled reply was all she got. Belt in his mouth, she assumed.

"Whatever. I'm going out. I'll be back soon. Do not leave my door unlocked if you leave. I don't care if you do, just don't leave my door unlocked. There's a key in the basket by the door. I'll be back soon if I can," she told her brother. She attempted to move around to get her boots. The sight was caught again and she felt sick. God, she hated needles. Now, she just closed her eyes and slipped on her boots. This didn't yield good results. She nearly toppled over and fell on her face. Thank god, she didn't!

Eventually after what was most certainly not five minutes, she darted out of the door. Just in case, she locked the door behind her and head off to Danny's. They lived relatively close after a couple shortcuts. Bundled up in her coat, she rapped on the door. A giant smile was plastered on her face despite the fact her head was killing her. She felt cold shivers, which explained the coat. The light drizzling didn't help in the least bit.

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