grief like that, it's an animal

i’ve only been in love once, and even then--sacrifices must be made. i don’t regret what i did. does she hate me? does it hurt? of course. but success doesn’t come without a price.

if you don’t have connections: make them. ran away with a senator’s daughter for the clout. i’ll be working on his presidential campaign when i graduate so i’d say it worked out alright.

bill gates, jeff bozos, steve jobs, elon musk

i don’t drink often enough to know.

nobody’s caught my interest yet, though of course it’d only be proper to introduce oneself to the newer students.

@acrimonixus seems shady tho

Though he was not a fool, losing track of the time was foolish. Forgetting his surroundings was also foolish, and as Nathan finally glanced up--only for a split second--the figure before him was surprising enough for the man to straighten up, adjusting his tie accompanied by a slight hem in the back of his throat. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on others?” He mused, as if it hadn’t caught him as off guard as it did. 

Aniston was watching everybody on the dance floor as she smiled, taking another sip of her spiked apple cider. She knew the only way to make it through this night was with a little liquid courage. She finished what was in her glass as a waiter walked by with another tray. She took a new one off the tray and smiled at the boy as she sneakily took out the flask she had put in the hidden pocket of her cover up. Ani poured some into the glass and continue drinking as if nothing had just happened. She continued looking at every one dancing when she spotted Amos. He seemed to be having the time of his life with whatever her name was. She was already feeling pretty tipsy so seeing him with someone else was getting to her more than she would have allowed it if she was sober. Aniston rolled her eyes and chugged the drink out of her glass. Grabbing another one as another waiter walked by. She once again took out her flask and spiked her drink. She was putting her flask away when she heard an all too familiar voice. She looked up next to her and saw Amos. She prayed that he didn’t see what she had just done to her drink or that he could tell she was drunk. Aniston smiled and nodded her head, “Thank you very much. You know me, i always have to shine” she said, trying not to make it obvious that she had had one too many. “So you and your date look very cute tonight” she said with a laugh as she took another big chug of her drink. “You move on very quickly” she added. Jealousy and alcohol were not a good mixture for the tiny brunette.

Though the boy was horribly oblivious at times, Amos was far from an idiot--Aniston was...tipsy, at least, as much as he could observe. “And shine you do...” with a raised eyebrow, he looked over the girl before shaking his head softly and pouring himself a drink. There wasn’t much room for him to judge--most of the students, and a few of the parents themselves, had been drunk the entire weekend. A better condition to deal with what they had to put up with, he supposed. If anything--the weekend had been a near breeze for him; the most interesting thing happening thus far was Max’s grandfather approaching him about the society. “We do, don’t we?” He agreed, a pleased smile overcoming his features--easy enough to mistake as fondness, for his mentioned date--and whilst Amos did hold Calliope in high regards, it was more towards how convincing their act seemed to be. That smile, however, immediately shifted into a slight frown--Amos opening his mouth to correct her, to explain, before shutting it again. There was no reason for him to justify himself to her, after all. “It’s been a while, Ani, I don’t know what you expected me to do. I’m not the biggest fan of staying miserable. Didn’t you come here with somebody, anyway?” Though his words had come off a bit harsh, the look on his face was near emotionless besides the pained look crossing his eyes for a brief moment.

It had been easy enough to escort Callie at the debutante, the boy filling the room with his wide smiles and unmistakable charm--which was, mostly fake, for any of the students who knew him had already known Amos was...if anything, erratic and studious at best. But damn--could Amos pretend, casting a small wink at his ‘date’s mother as he dipped her and twirled her and whatever one did at a dance. After, the ordeal, Amos had excused himself once he was sure Callie’s mother hadn’t been watching them, making his way towards the drink table. Despite his parched throat, the boy stopped immediately in his tracks--spotting Aniston, in all her...pink, glory--and took a moment to decide if he really was as thirsty as he thought. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to speak to her, but...her mother had given him a bad taste in his mouth, and everything in his body was telling him something was off. With a small sigh, the senior moved forwards, walking besides the girl, “You really have a knack for stealing the spotlight away from actual debuts, y’know that?” Amos mused, his eyes trailing down Aniston--but more particularly, her dress.

@amosbarott

elenora liked amos, he was intelligent, good-looking and had goals. he was good for calliope, even though she didn’t fully believe this charade, she thoroughly enjoyed him, or the idea of them. calliope needed someone with a good head on their shoulders, to rein her in, she was rebelling against her legacy, a sad attempt to be ordinary, which simply wasn’t good enough, calliope was better than ordinary.  

“tell me amos” she spoke softly, once they were alone, “what are you getting out of this little thing between you and calliope?” she questioned, “she’s beautiful and brilliant, i’m aware, yes, but she’s lost” exhaling softly, “i would like you to help her, you’re good for her, i can tell” she continued, her eyes flickering to his, as she brought her glass to her lips, “help me, help her, and i’ll help you” 

Playing boyfriend had been an easy feat for the boy; Amos had always been good with parents, his words charming and his looks...well, helping with the illusion of it all. Though it had been no secret that the boy took very few things seriously, outside of his education--he took the role he played to heart. It mattered to Calliope that their charade was plausible, passable, and so he made the extreme efforts of proving their budding love was very real--whether it had been wrapping his arm around her waist whenever they were in conversation with her parents, or kissing her when he knew her mother was watching from across the room. 

As Elenora spoke to Amos, the boy tilted his head curiously, “What am I getting out of it?” he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head, “Nothing at all, Mrs. Cruz. She simply reminds me that it’s okay to breathe, sometimes. A breath of fresh air, if you will.” It had been true, in a way--Callie had definitely helped him...loosen up, many times in multiple ways. His eyebrows furrowed, faking confusion at her next statements--though he knew exactly what she had been implying, it had been better not to assume, “I’m not sure if I understand what you’re implying, ma’am, elaboration may be...necessary.”

Katherine West. She was just as beautiful as she was a savage. The former top model knew how to get her way no matter the cost. Maybe this is how little Aniston learned her ways? Katherine was also a former student at Kingswood. This was where she had met her ex-husband so many years ago. Being back to see her daughter and all she had accomplished so far felt great. She only hoped she didn’t have to see her ex-husband and his terrible looking wife. Katherine walked around the campus, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aniston and hoping not to run into the man her broke her heart and the woman who caused her divorce. She really didn’t feel like being mean today.

“Aniston? Where the hell are you?” she said to herself looking around at all the students walking by with their parents. Katherine was also on the look out for any of the other parents she knew. It had been a while and she was excited to catch up with some of them this weekend.

After losing track of both his sister and their mother, Amos had taken to wandering aimlessly around the event, spiked punch in hand as he kept an eye out for the either of them. Or, for the very least, Calliope--he had agreed to play along with the illusion she had been casting towards her family, and had become her boyfriend for the weekend. And yet, as Amos glanced about the room, he saw none of the women. Instead--he found, Ms. Katherine West, her presence loud. Was it appropriate to approach his ex-girlfriend’s mother? Or rather--was it impolite to not? His mind battled, for a few moments, the angel and devil on his shoulders arguing as Amos took another sip of his punch, rocking back on his heels. With a small, resigned sigh, Amos took the angel’s side and headed towards Katherine, a charming smile cast across his face, “Ms. West, what a pleasure it is to see you again.” The boy stated, extending his hand for her to shake, “It’s been quite a while, I’m afraid. Far too long, perhaps.”

Where had her daughter disappeared to? After telling her she’d fix her hair for her, Marianne figured she’d gone to the bathroom to do it herself. Why couldn’t she let her momma do it fo her? What was so bad about that? Marianne always thought she was a good mother and took good care of her daughter, but it seemed she had different ideas and it bugged her a little bit. She’d spent her whole life trying to make her feel special, but lately, it was like she wanted nothing to do with her. Avery was her baby, so why didn’t she feel the same way about her? How come her daughter didn’t miss her as much? Sighing, Marianne wandered through the room, stopping for a cup of punch before trying to peek out the door. “I swear it’s like this girl doesn’t want to see me. All I told her was I missed her and wanted to fix her hair. What’s so bad about that?”

The stares Olive had garnered with her attendance were quite obvious--at least, to the woman herself--enough so that she had resorted to manning the drinks station, occupying her lips with the fruity beverage, obviously laced with something with a little...bite. Whilst Amos had welcomed her with opened arms--Olive hadn’t come to the event for him, no--it was Arya she had sought after, yet, her daughter was nowhere to be seen. Knowing her, she had likely skipped out on it. Or, perhaps, Olive was just blind. Either way, the woman had obviously been displeased, the frown etching lines around her mouth, “Maybe it was your tone,” She offered to the other woman, quite unhelpfully, “You know how teens are at this age...hormonal, angry at the world, unappreciative, et cetera. It’s a pain every parent must endure.” With a small sigh, Olive lifted the drink to her lips once more.

Barot Family Weekend

“In some countries.” She replied simply, taking the punch and drinking from it. She grimaced at the taste and laughed lightly. “I’ve never been to prom, but I’m one hundred percent sure it feels like this tastes. I don’t even know why I’m here. I’m no one’s mom yet and if becoming one means having to go to more of these, I don’t think I ever want to be.”

“Close enough to me,” Olive retorted, simply, allowing the girl to take the drink from her as she leaned against the wall, running a hand through her hair, “We had a formal, but we never called it a prom. Shit sucked either way, so--” the woman took her drink back, taking another sip with a shrug of her shoulders, “Just call it moral support and be done with it, honestly. I’m a mother and this is my second to last family weekend I ever have to attend--thank god, again. Listen, I love motherhood with my entire heart, but if I could redo it all again I’d send them both right to public school, or at least somewhere back home. Half of the parents won’t even dare look in my direction and it is the most childish thing I’ve ever witnessed--and I’m practically surrounded by children.”

“Hi…” Mikayla waved awkwardly at the person who stopped in front of her. “I promise I’m not a student hiding from her family or whatever. I’m hiding from the students. Their yelling was starting to give me a migraine.” 

Olive let out a small, relieved laugh, plopping herself next to Mikayla, “Thank god, honestly,” she replied, taking a sip of her punch. It wasn’t so much the students she was avoiding rather than the parents--her husband’s reputation had ruined her own, and she had enough of the judgmental glares of her peers, “You old enough to drink?” Olive asked, British accent thick, before offering the punch to the girl. It wasn’t very ‘official’ of her but--fuck it, she wasn’t an important government official anymore. There were no more expectations for her to uphold.