cruel intentions

INSTAGRAM: @SEBASTIANFITZGERALD UPLOADED A PHOTO

me + my nan x 

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Lena stood on the quad, handing out flyers–on any given day, she could be seen out here, trying to promote  her volunteer opportunities. The event she planned–a panel on sexual health in under resourced communities–was in less than two weeks, and she wanted to get as many people as possible to come. “The panel is free,” she explained to a sophomore she was talking to, handing him a flyer. “And it’s only going to be an hour, so–” the guy rudely crumpled up her paper and walked away, causing Lena to pout. “No need to be rude,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “Asshole.” 

Sebastian’s stroll had been cut short once he saw Lena in her classic volunteer stance. At this point, she practically owned the quad. “Boring. You should have told the guy you are giving free goodie bags at the end of it. That would’ve sold him.” Sebastian grabbed at one of the flyers, brown eyes roaming over the paper with earnest. “Radcliffe’s very own Margaret Thatcher, fighting for sexual health. Don’t know why you hadn’t invited me. If anyone knows anything about under-resourced communities and sexual health, it’s me. A picture of me with this information in small font would draw people in but my intellect wrapped in clever humor would keep people there.” His tongue darted across his bottom lip before smiling at the brunette once more. “I’m hurt and offended. Alas, you’ve missed out on an opportunity of a lifetime. Make it up to me.”

Clutching the neck of a wine bottle, Lana had taken to idly swinging it, pretending she was a baseball player limbering up to smack a home run. The cork wasn’t even plugged, so it was a wonder nothing sloshed out – a tiny fleck did, in fact, not enough to qualify for a slosh, but enough to make a bystander gasp and clutch his cheek. She settled enough to take a swig in one spot, watching the spat. Sebastian’s nudge at her ribs had her blinking sideways, expression unreadable. Nearby, a student’s camera flashed to take a photo, briefly streaking a line above his head/ A makeshift halo. Considering the devil horns she had perched on hers, a novelty Halloween item she’d donned for no apparent reason, it made them quite the pair. Ironic, probably, too. “And… what, you’re the morality police? Do you, like, have a baton on you? Handcuffs? Total man of the law?” Lana scoffed, unable to help it, before looking over at the guy in question. “Give me a break, Seb. You’ve probably fucked in a church more times than you’ve prayed in it.” Not that religion was relevant, but Lana punctuated it with another mouthful of wine, regardless. Then, she held it out for him to grab, a wordless offer. “Did you do that?” Eyes flitting to find him, she pressed red lips into a line, playing investigative. “The photos?”

“Lana, lana, lana.” Sebastian purposely pronounces her name dramatically, the name coming out sillier with each reiteration. “I have... rediscovered myself, doing a complete 180 on my life. The vilification of my name has exposed me to ideas of Christianity and humanitarianism. God Himself came in my dream and told me that I am a prophet meant to spread a message of peace. Such shameful acts shock me now. Can’t you see me blushing?” His own eyes linger on hers, face in complete seriousness as he discusses his newfound redemption of character before his lips pulled into a half-smile. He could never quite keep face for long. “I could never do that. I am a Women’s Rights activist and essentially I am against anything that hurt them. I have that pink pin or blue pin whatever at home.” His hand erratically darted at the bottle’s neck. “Look at my effect on you already. Sharing. I am such a good influence already. Honestly Lana, why don’t we hang out more?” Swimming around in similar groups, he had seen Lana around every once and a while throughout the campus. That fateful moment at the party which ruptured his... thing with Frankie a while ago still sparked his interest; Sebastian could not help but bring it up, the weirdness of the situation amused him. His lips meet the top of the bottle before taking a nice swig, the drink sending a rush throughout his body. “We need a proper reunion. You can’t tell me you don’t wake up sometimes randomly and go, ‘Damn. I miss Sebastian so much!’. Don’t you ever miss the good old days?”

India was busy having fun and drinking the night away before suddenly hearing a loud commotion in the common area. Walking over she saw the one and only, Sebastian. Not even knowing the context of this fight she figured it had something to do with him. As she walked towards him she heard the fight more, being one for the girls she wanted to pull the girl away and help her, but she didn’t know her, and the amount of champagne rushing through her probably was not the best move. Standing beside him she didn’t say anything, she knew he would start eventually. “Oh please, I can’t even imagine the amount of girls you’ve cheated on… but it’s you, so it’s fine right?” she asked rhetorically, she already knew the answer to that. Shaking her head, “Why do you have to like… come for everyone?” she offered up finally looking at the boy. It amazed her, how little he cared about others feelings. 

His irises land upon India, lips forming a small curve in betrayal of his actions. “I would never cheat. I consider myself a woman’s rights activist... I bring them light by showing them that they will never have better than me. This knowledge bestowed upon them allows them to make better decisions in the future, like the serpent telling Eve to eat the apple.” He looks back down at the empty canister that once held alcohol, on the other hand, circling the rim. “You love it, India. You are literally living in a page of my future biography except you will be labeled as unknown leggy Blonde.” As the people begin to slow down and continue their actions to how it was prior to the argument, it just did not feel the same. The disrupt from the couple’s quarrel brought everything down. “My fun is already ending this early and it’s barely midnight. At this point, I should be paid. I am the producer/actor/director of everything amusing at this school. Triple threat. This next scene involves you, me, and a towel right near the lake.” He grinned, pressing his lips to his canister. “Nature sex is really... illuminating and spiritual. That’s what that girl told me before she said ‘cheese’.”

『CHACE CRAWFORD ❙ CISMALE』 ⟿ looks like SEBASTIAN FITZGERALD is here for HIS JUNIOR year as a POLITICAL SCIENCE student. HE is 22 years old & known to be RESILIENT, CONFIDENT, HISTRIONIC & SELF-ASORBED. They’re living in OFF CAMPUS HOUSING, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ alli. immortal. est. she/her.

trigger warning: drugs, death, alcohol