me and my star `open!

[livvy ann fergusen]

pain is only a pulse,
if you just stop feeling it

Livvy was cutting class. It's not like she was missing anything: she was taking a standard english class that had nothing to do with her dance major. She wouldn't have been in it at all except for her little 'slip-up' during practice the other day. She had called her instructor 'the douchiest of douchebags' and he had assigned her to two weeks of english. It was an unfair punishment in Livvy's eyes, who thought her statement was so true that 'douchiest' ought to be added into the dictionary. She actually asked her english teacher if it was indeed a word, and got kicked out of class the first day. So now here she was, sitting on one of the sinks and painting her nails a dark blue color, skipping grammar and spelling and so forth. The bathroom was a much better place to be, in Livvy's opinion. At least here she could hum loudly without any angry glares, or eat her poptart without being reprimanded.

Poptarts were Livvy's vice; she ate them all the time. She would eat them hot or cold, morning, noon, and night. Her favorite flavor was the chocolate kind, but it was rare that she ever got to eat them. She was, as a dancer, on a strict diet, and had to eat poptarts in secret, exercising intensely after each pack. It was true that they didn't do anything extreme to her weight, but Livvy was never one to be satisfied that easily. She was sure that they added about fifteen pounds to her physique, but couldn't help herself. Actually, that's how Livvy acts in general. She enjoys things that are bad for her, insists they are worse then they are, and continues to use them like some sort of addict. Mostly this occurs with people: her friends are never the kindest or most trusting of people, and her boyfriends?: forget it. Livvy only goes after complete assholes, who treat her horribly but keep coming back because she's easy. It's a dangerous and unhealthy cycle, but don't tell Livvy that: she'll just say something crude about your shoes.

In fact, Livvy had already gotten into a fight while she was in the bathroom. Well, it wasn't really a fight: more like a one-sided screaming match. She wore that a first year girl she had never seen before gave her a dirty look, so she started bitching her out about everything you could imagine: her hair, clothes, family members that Livvy didn't know. It ended in the girl storming out of the bathroom with tears in her eyes and Livvy smiling to herself smugly. Again, she couldn't help it. Especially not today when she had an extroadinarily painful hangover to cope with. She had partied a little too hard last night, as usual, and was left trying to pick up the pieces this morning. She was fine until she actually entered school, and the bell sent off an explosion in her brain. The pounding headache was the main reason that she was wearing her overly large sunglasses-- besides the fact that they looked bitchin'.

The blue frames of those glasses stood out against her pale skin and choice of outfit: Livvy never really liked to match. Today she went eighties: oversized t-shirt and colored jeans. It wasn't a neccissarily intimidating look: no, she looked more like an overgrown cartoon character. However, paired with her messy, uncombed hair and the drawn, slightly ghostly expression on her face, the ensemble looked quite... well, frightening. Livvy, however, felt she looked fabulous, and to prove it, she glanced over her shoulder into the mirror behind her. She squinted to see herself through the shades, studying every aspect of her face and hair. She was nearly done when one drop of nail polish slipped off the applicator brush and landed on her index knuckle. "Oh, fuck off." She said loudly, sending another first year girl about to enter the bathroom running into the halls.

outfit

[` aaron connor cherry]

Aaron walked through the halls, not caring if there were any teachers who could see him. He'd tell them it was his free period. He smirked at a first year rushing to class - he could just hear the fifteen-year-old's mind working. I'm gonna be late to class! Oh no! Normally, kids in Aaron's grade would be only a year or two older than the boy who was tripping over his own feet at the moment. But Aaron had lived in California when he was younger - the cutoff date was August 30th. Which meant if you were born after August thirtieth, you'd be pushed into the next grade. Plus he'd started school late because his mother had had cancer when he was three, and they'd had to go to the city for a while since they'd lived in a small town with no good hospitals. So now he was eighteen, turning nineteen in about a month, and sitting in classes with people who were two years younger than him.

That was why most of his friends - well, practically all of them - were in the third or fourth year. The majority of his friends were girls - exes, fuck buddies, or just plain old friends. Well, no. That wasn't possible with Aaron. It was mostly...friends with 'benefits'. There wasn't one female friend of his he didn't flirt constantly with. Especially Lilivaye. Lili was his best friends...they told each other everything. But there was also Livvy, Aurora, and several other girls who were not in his year. Then there were the girls he barely knew and only met to have sex with. But now he was going to cut down on the sleeping around - because he'd found a girl he actually wanted to be with. For real.

Aja Thompson. She was perfect - her body, her face, her personality. Like an angel - she was gorgeous, and those deep blue eyes were hypnotizing. The first time he'd met her, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. He still couldn't - Aaron was a sucker for a pretty girl. He wasn't superficial, but most guys liked good looks...right? He just wasn't used to judging a girl on her personality. But there was a mysterious air about her...as if there were things people didn't know about her. He hadn't prodded, but Aaron was sure there were secrets she was hiding. Everyone had secrets. His own were pretty grisly, in fact...he grimaced at the thought of his parents.

They were drunks. Every night when Aaron was home - which was seldom now - they'd both drink. Beer, whiskey, champagne, wine, brandy, or any other alcoholic drink- their preference was the first, but anything would work. Then his father would beat Aaron, and his mother would scream until her throat was sore. Then his father would hit Aaron some more, and his mother would tell him to stop. Then Aaron would leave and they'd shout at each other. It was always the same. Always. Now he made up excuses to stay in the school for breaks - he had too much homework, or a project, or extra credit, or whatever.

He stopped in front of the bathrooms, but didn't feel like going in. He wasn't in the mood to scare off first years today. So instead, he leaned against the wall between the girls' door and the guys' door, staring through the window across the hall. Maybe someone interesting would come by.

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[livvy ann fergusen]

pain is only a pulse,
if you just stop feeling it

Looking up from her hands, Livvy saw something from the corner of her eye. At first she just ignored it, waving her fingers in front of her mouth and blowing on them gently. Then she actually registered what she had seen. It was a reflection in the window across the hall from the bathroom. From where she was sitting on the sink she couldn't really make out who it was. She just knew that they were leaning on the wall instead of sitting in class, and that was a person that Livvy would want to know, or at least talk to.

It took her forever to get up from the sink though. First of all, she didn't really want to make any sudden movements and mess up her brand-new paint job she had worked so hard on. Second of all, her not-so-little butt was almost stuck in the sink. She knew that if she popped herself out too quickly she'd end up face first on the floor. And third of all, she didn't really care. She was feeling pretty lazy and knew that anyone standing out there in the hall, not matter how similar their attitudes towards school, was not someone she really had to rush to see. Her best friends were getting a bite to eat at the mall (they had skipped and forgotten to invite her) and all her potential love interests were usually so old that they didn't even go to school anymore. Actually, she quite often fell for her teachers, and then she would insist on making their classroom a living hell. But anyway, the girl was in no sort of hurry.

When she finally did get off of the sink, very carefully and with no major mishaps, she made her way over to the door rather slowly. Leaning against the frame, she studied her nails for about the thousandth time. "Fancy meeting you here." She stated in a sort of low, drawn-out, raspy kind of way. Livvy hadn't even seen who she was speaking to until she lifted up her head. She laughed pleasantly, tilting up her sunglass with one hand and studying him closer before she let them fall onto her nose again. "Aaron! Fancy meeting you here!" She didn't seem to realize that she had said the same thing twice, she was rather suprised to see him there, and altogether she wasn't the brightest bulb. She stood up properly and gave him a little punch on the arm, her usual way of greeting her guy friends. It wasn't flirting in her eyes, to touch someone's arm or whatever. To Livvy, flirting was completely destroying a man's life and making him hate her. That was fun. And she would never do that to Aaron, they were friends. He was a huge flirt and Livvy just found that hilarious. She liked to humor him, for her own sake as well as his, but she would never actually consider dating him. That would be like dating her brother. Or rather, her hot second-cousin that she has dirty thoughts about. And that's just wrong. But she never passes up a chance of getting a little bit of attention, so she plays along. Plus, she actually likes hanging out with Aaron, which is rare for her.

"What's shakin', bacon?" She asked him, leaning next to him against the wall, her hands behind her back. She was observing her shoes, and how the purple/pink color made her feet look really pale. Her hair hung forward in front of her face, shielding it from view. Her sunglasses slipped dangerously to the end of her nose and she whipped her head back tocounter the motion. They fell back in to place but the motion had caused Livvy some sort of trauma; it sent her head on a very painful spiral and made her hair look even more ragged than ever.

[` aaron connor cherry]

-post coming-

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