[ maple & shades & and you other losers <3 ] -- [ mature ]

[shades]

TABLE OF CONTENTS PG 1 - 4 ; ; bastian and lauren PG 4 - 6 ; ; first meeting and first date PG 7 - 9 ; ; grounded accident PG 9 - 13 ; ; fighting sex PG 13 - 14 ; ; the incident PG 14 - 15 ; ; thomas skyes PG 15 - 16 ; ; the talk PG 16 - 18 ; ; the break up PG 18 - 20 ; ; present problems PG 21 ; ; one parent down PG 21 ; ; a heart warming breakfast PG 21 - 26 ; ; dancing in the rain PG 26 - 30 ; ; unsafe sex PG 30 - 32 ; ; damn, it's a girl! PG 33 - 35 ; ; lauren's birthday PG 35 - 36 ; ; andrew's secret PG 36 - 37 ; ; lauren's secret PG 37 - 39 ; ; vanessa PG 39 ; ; an incident worst than blood PG 39 ; ; pre-wedding planning

[Maple ♥]

Runs in and leaps ~

[shades]

{ So like, what sort of setting and such for them? High school and that jazz? }

[Maple ♥]

[ That sound fine to me ^.^ ]

[shades]

{ Okay and then just plot it out as we go along or anything in mind besides bad break up? }

[Maple ♥]

[ That's all I got for now lol ]

[shades]

{ Bastian and Lauren ; ; }

[Maple ♥]

[ Same here and I'll brb so you start lol ]

[shades]

Bastian Skyes ; ;

Everything all came down to a simple fact: Bastian Skyes did whatever the fuck he wanted.

There was no room for failure. In any game, failure meant death, one small error can cost him his life—though he wasn’t a fan of meaningless games, he was a fan of understanding the basis it was structured around. That was the most useful analogy he’d ever lived by: it was either live, or die a violent death by the arms of a bunch of corporate bastards. That was what his dad, an attorney and businessman, taught him anyway.

In the animal kingdom, no chicken stopped to help his baby chick that was obviously going to be devoured by a lion. It was survival of the fittest in school, and he’d been oh-so-good in Biology these past few years. However, applying it to his basic life, surviving such a cold, damned world meant he was a selfish fucking prick and had an ego the size of his fine ass. Damned if he knew how going on about how fugly he was would receive a yeah, get over yourself.

Bastian would puke over anyone who called him perfect, but damn them to hell if they insulted him.

Maybe we’re getting a little contradicting here, walking down the hallway was as normal as ever as he made his way out into the hallway of school; class before it began for the day. One hand stuck in his pocket, the other gripping the backpack slung lazily over his shoulder. A cluster of whispers began and Bastian felt a dull ache. Really, people needed to get over it.

It was a month ago anyways, his barrier gone for half a year and then one day Bastian came back with the Wall of China as his fort; guarding his inner emotions once again.

Most people muttered they missed the old Bastian, who had a heart.

He was still a bitch, but one with a heart and in love.

Fuck love.

His glare was directed towards his shoes, shoving his way through the crowd towards a familiar locker. Biting his tongue, knowing full well something—or someone—catching his sights or breathing the same air as him would foul his mood worst. Thinking brought a storm cloud, for god’s sake.

{ I'm sorry it's so short. </3 }

[Maple ♥]

[don't expect a long post from me oops lol]

Lauren Moscow:

Lauren Moscow had her priorities straight now. There would be no more Miss Good Popular Girl and no more mistakes. This new year at school, she'd be on top. She was just below the most popular level and it was the roughest place to be in. You were almost to the top, but not really. And now with this new...instance on her hands, Lauren knew things were just about to get harder.

You either win or you lose, and Lauren wasn't a loser. In fact, she was just the opposite. Lauren had every man available to her with just a flick of her perfectly manicured finger and girls who dreamed of being her. She was the prettiest top dog in school - that was for sure. And she knew it too. So it wasn't hard for her to fit her appearance and become something that everyone wanted - almost perfect.

She took pride in the fact that she could ruin someone's life so easily. There were moments where she acted kind, actually most of the time this was the case, and then the others... people better watch out. 

All the same, Lauren waltzed into school with her designer bag slung over her shoulder, bug like sunglasses covering her face, and Jimmy Choo's clipping along the floor as she went. Voices were murmuring, but she didn't really noticed. The people always talked about her. But that was just the perks of being so high up on the social bar. 

Lauren had her friends, her herd, following behind her. They weren't allowed to be in front of her unless she felt like they needed to be - like when she wanted to hide from someone. And that someone was coming this way. Shit she thought and pulled her friend Atlas in front of her to disappear, scurrying tot he side of the hall towards a locker. "Cover me," she spoke through gritted teeth and shoved all of her herd around her to make it look like they were talking. Of all people she had to see today why did have to be that prick. With his smug little jackass grin and sexy apparel. It made Lauren want to gag. She hurriedly began talking about her latest shopping trip with her followers, but kept glancing up to make sure Bastain didn't see her. 

[shades]

Bastian Skyes ; ;

There was a moment where his cocky-as-hell smile faltered to look at the young woman he had dated not-so-long ago. Bastian realized if he focused his hatred of her and the entire human race, then it dulled the pain that he would not admit to being there in the first place—if anyone cared to ask. Kind of like adding ice to water on a stove. It cooled down for just a moment but then the ice would melt, and the temperature would rise again. Focusing his gaze to glare right at her, and her ’herd’ of friend, he realized how dissociated from the world and his body he felt. Had he cried for this girl? Had he truly shown weakness to her, love, a nature he had hidden?

At least they’d know he had emotions for the most part.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop himself, and now, he was blushing so madly he can’t even think how pathetic it must look. If she showed pity, he swears that she would shove it up her ass.

His thoughts were drifting away to Lauren. He felt practically naked without her by his side after so long—who needs girlfriends anyways? She probably has had loads of boyfriends, enough to consider herself a whore, or maybe she’ll reveal that all along she never liked men.

Ha. Ha.

Had he been blind?

The only thing that Bastian Skyes did know was that he was passionate, and articulate, and nothing was going to stop him right now. He was going to do something to make Lauren Moscow pay, he was going to prove to the bitch that he wasn’t a sore loser and would get back on his feet.

Well, maybe passing his locker might hinder that mission. Once again the insecurity rising to his cheeks as Bastian turned around and took a few paces back to his locker, opening the metal with a chill whine for oil. His gaze averting from the books he should be picking out, towards Lauren again. This time, his signature smirk came back, carelessly picking out his French book.

His pale green eyes slid over a young woman who was adoring him, like normal he had to admit; he had the hair, face, and ass for it. “I don’t do quickies with women dressed like my Mother,” Bastian suddenly stated to the girl. Checking to see if he fazed Lauren at all with a brief flick of his eyes, ignoring as the girl gave a huff and stomped away. Like usual.

[Maple ♥]

Lauren Moscow;

    If Lauren hadn't seen the blush, she probably would've flipped a bitch at Bastian's cocky smirk. But seeing the slight tint to his cheeks, because she'd known this boy for a long time, it made her feel on top of the world. Why the fuck was hse hiding from him? He should be cowering away from her. After all, when you messed with the bull, you got a foot shoved up your ass.

    So Lauren shifted her backpack, cleared her throat, and snapped her followers into attention. "Girls," the order flipped off her tongue like a snake's and she pushed her way passed them. Bastian was across the hallway from her, and she could feel his gaze on her off and on. Lauren stood there, her arm cocked to hold up her bag and her her sunglasses inside of them once more, smirking up a storm. She knew just the way to get under her ex's skin; and she wasn't afraid of him anymore.

    Without warning she clip-clopped her way towards him, swaying her hips this way and that in order to draw attention from other boys. Just like she predicted, many of the male gender's eyes were placed on her ass, which was perfectly sculpted thanks to Pilates. Thank God for tic-tacs and working out - it gave you the hottest body in town. 

    As the other girl huffed away, a fake smile was plastered onto Lauren's face for effect. She flipped her loosely curled mane of blond over her shoulder and slid to the side of Bastain's open locker. "Hey Bastian," her words were like ice as her pink lips formed around them. "I think I left my underwear at your house. Yeah, I'm going to need those back," she smiled wickedly and nodded her head, as if agreeing with herself. Her pack of followers all huddled where she had left them, waiting for their cue to follow her when needed. 

[shades]

Bastian Skyes ; ;

He saw her coming and his mind screaming “oh hell to the no!” but outwardly he was smirking, his eyes closing as the locker slammed shut. He met her own gaze with his cold, hard eyes and he answered smoothly, “sorry, must of left them in some male strippers ass.” Because that was the advantage of swinging both ways, right? His hand shoving in his pocket, one clutching the French book Bastian really didn’t need to study. He was fluent in French already, just too lazy to take another language—the school still hasn’t caught on that he was passing the class easily. It might be he failed to mention his mother and he living in France when he was young, whoops.

Lauren had tried to embarrass him, or get under his skin; well, two can play it that way. His own expression was likened to a blank canvas, his expression heavily guarded. “By the way, remember those things I got you to ‘try out’; might want to throw them out. Might get an STD from a man at the bar.” Bastian deadpanned, shrugging his backpack up his shoulder again from where it had fallen around his bicep slightly. The fabric of his gray v-neck t-shirt hissing slightly at the coarse material.

He took a few paces, before turning around; a frown on his face, looking like his thinking had been interrupted, “by the way you look nice.” He complimented sweetly, spinning on his All-Star converse so his finely sculpted ass was pointed Lauren Moscow’s way. “For someone who got shagged last night, might want to freshen up and get rid of the stench of whore.” Bastian called over his shoulder loudly, the few people in the hallway turning to see, obviously hearing what the bastard had to say about his ex.

Some sniggered, some frowned, some grumbled, some nodded thoughtfully, some gaped at him. But for the most part they were preparing, mentally, physically tensing. Bastian’s own shoulders were raised in preparation, his tongue resting on the roof of his mouth, licking his plush—and completely kissable—pink lips; a insult on his tongue, brain rolling into gear.

Thing is, this has been the most active Bastian has been the last month. Sure, he’s been horribly moody, even going as far to insult Mr. Schultz teaching methods and telling him he didn’t understand passion in literature. That earned him a detention, where his father glared at him from across the coffee table before promptly stating: “way to fuck up Bastian,” but that was the end of that. So long as he didn’t get suspended, expelled, caught and charged for murder—caught—busted for drugs or drinking his dad’s liquor we return to the point where Bastian Skye can do whatever the hell he wants.

And he hasn’t been doing much, but mopping around his house and finding camaraderie in television shows, and the company of his phone that never went off for anything but a change in Lacrosse practice or to ask him how he was doing—Grandma—and if he needed her to bring anything when she comes to town.

Yeah, real active Skyes. And yet his fingers were tensing and his body was shivering as he and Lauren went back and forth; Bastian blamed the lack of sex. He had too, or else he would go crazy wondering how he lost control. How he was loosing, and how come the game wasn’t going in his favor.

[Maple ♥]

Lauren Moscow:

Lauren was a bitch, plain and simple. But Bastian was good; too good. It made her want to rip off his face and then go get a facial to ease the tension. No wrinkles today, thank you. Bastian made Lauren feel twenty times older than she was and she hated the idea of getting old. She hated her ex boyfriend. 

A flicker of pain passed over her face, because his words were hurtful. But she was Lauren Moscow; she didn't take this shit. If she was supposed to make it to the high social standards of East High, she had to think of some remark that would knock him off his high horse and onto the beautifully toned ass of his. So she rested her hand on her hip calmly, trying to push aside any left over feelings she still had for this douche, and clicked her tongue at his back. "Well at least that 'thing' you gave me was better in bed than you ever were," she said it sweetly and looked at the people gathering around to see their show. "But I'm happy to give it back so you can stick it up your own ass, just how you like it."

Lauren was about to walk away but she thought better of it. She had his attention, along with every else's around them. It was her time to shine. "Oh, and Bastian," she lifted a finger, taking steps so that they were only inches apart. She smiled sweetly at him, trying so hard not to let this character falter to see how hurt she was feeling about this whole thing. "How's Daddy doing," she pursed her lips and mimicked a baby in her tone. "Is he still disappointed that his sons a little prick with no heart and a little penis?" she pressed a hand to her chest, taking a step back to leave him behind. "I mean, if he pays any attention to you at all."

That one was going to sting, she prayed. God of good burns, please let that one have gotten him down where it matters. Lauren wasn't about to look weak in front of a hallway of people. 

[shades]

Bastian Skyes ; ;

I’ve heard of a tale where two midnight lovers were described as soft. Their movements were so delicate under the beat of the light that their love was almost like silk. Love. Funny word. Odd. How anyone can describe so many emotions with one. Just as odd as calling two midnight lovers soft. Or that cigarettes smelled like coffee. Or was it coffee smelling a lot like cigarettes.

Nevertheless in this universe, there is a uniform. We’re all lost. Our mere origins, existences, paths, words, emotions and actions are essence of lost people in a vast world. Maybe these midnight lovers have been led astray, maybe love is a fabrication of all emotions convoluted together—or maybe, just maybe…

It all means nothing.

The existence of too makes him feel like a contradiction. His hair is too brown. His eyes are too green. His heart is too cold. He says that his mouth is too thin, but then he states in literature class that the world is limitless, boundless. Bastian is aware of contradiction because if the world is limitless and his aspirations can reach the moon then there is never simply too much yet that’s what he’s implying when he says his eyes are too green or that his Father is too careless. There is never too much of anything, just too little. And there it is again. Too. It is an unavoidable world, but then again, all words are unavoidable if you know them.

Which was why Lauren’s comeback came as a low blow, his own cocky smirk wavering a little; the reply on his tongue faltering into a light stutter. That was exactly it, there was too little love in his life; it wasn’t so much the attention it was the idea that he didn’t care. There was “one plus one”, or “two plus two”; it a negative and that’s what made the high and mighty fall.

Suddenly it all means everything.

“Low blow.” Bastian mutters the words under his breath, just a whisper, a faint utter of what was on his mind. Posture straightening immediately, the hard edge back into his voice. Yeah, a jerk again. “All the better when no ones around,” he hissed dangerously. Anger, that’s something too common in exs, a broken two. Two—almost like too. Maybe it’s a contradiction itself.

His green eyes flashed, “you scream too much,” again that word. “And can barely please anyone but a desperate virgin, I’ve fucked men better then you.” This time, he didn’t let her have a last word—it was his last word. His win. He would not let an ex defeat him. He wanted his control back on his emotions, thoughts, feelings, body. Bastian refused to become a weakling, even if it meant briskly shoving through a gathering crowd keeping his head held high until he turned the corner, where it sunk to his chest; defeated.