Akira has two sisters, Mei and Naomi. Mei is the most out going of the bunch. A true extrovert in ever sense. She has lots of friends and finds it stupidly easy to make even more. Her phone is always pinging with texts and sheâs rarely home on the weekends because sheâs so busy with friends. Sheâs fond of fashion but sheâs big on Exy too. She currently plays as a backliner for the school team and is probably one of the loudest Fox fans at any game sheâs in attendance. Naomi is pretty similar, albeit slightly less of a social butterfly. More of a social climber. Sheâs been top of the food chain in school since she was young and has never had an issue with it. Akira being super famous really helped her out too. And it still gets her places but itâs not secret she doesnât exactly agree with her brotherâs new take on his life. She misses the pseudo-fame being his sister brought her. Things have been strained between them since his return from rehab but Akira hasnât quite figured out why that is yet.
âď¸ for something your character likes.
Akira likes horror movies. Bad horror movies. The campier the better. Bad acting? Bad effects? Heâs all for it. It started out as a joke with his sisters but it eventually evolved into a real thing. When Akira is feeling low his go to movie binges are always B rated horror.
đ¨ for an irrational fear.
That paparazzi lurk around every corner. He still has issues with them but itâs no where near as bad as it was before he came to the Foxes. But the damage was done. Most of what Akira does tends to be filtered through the lens of âwhat might the media make of thisâ before he goes and does it. Heâs always worried about what a stray paparazzi photo might do, especially f that photo contains and misconstrued angle of one of his teammates. The last thing he wants is to subject them to the holy fire of the mass media.
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the wrong side (of paradise) || parentâs day self
Location:Â Athletics CafeteriaÂ
Date:Â September 14th
Time:Â 1:15 pm
Inspiration: What You Wanted - OneRepublicÂ
âRick! Are you fucking kiddinâ me? Youâre just gonna text the entire time? What did I tell you, Neel? Huh? I told you heâd be like this, thatâs why I asked you not to let him come. If all heâs gonna do is message whatever whor- â
âMom. Can we just⌠Can we eat? Please?â
Tracy cuts her eyes between Neel and his father suspiciously, nostrils flaring, before returning her attention to her salad, which she stabs at with vicious tenacity. Awkward silence descends over them as Rick finally slips his phone back into his pocket and Neel daydreams about melting into the floor. The cafeteria is busy, bustling with activity and noise as hundreds of other student athletes crowd around cheap vinyl tables with their parents and loved ones â laughing and joking and catching up.
Neel tries not to feel jealous.
âSo. Dad. Howâs the new job going?â
âItâs a job, Neel.â Rick replies flatly, tearing his bread roll into bite-sized pieces. âIt pays the bills. Nothing to write home about.â
âRight. Um.â
Itâs been awhile, since they were all together like this and, honestly, he should have known better than to think that it would work out. His dadâs obviously started dating again and his Momâs on some new meds and heâs not enough to hold them all together. Maybe once, a long time ago, Neel was the glue that kept them from falling apart â a rickety, resentful structure. But a structure, nonetheless. Now? Heâs got no power here at all, in any of this. Â
âJesus, Rick. He was just trying to make some conversation.â Tracy pushes her tray away, scowl deepening as she shoots Neel another significant look. See, I told you so.
âYou know,â she turns in her seat to face her ex-husband, âthe least you could do is talk to your fucking kid. You missed out on plenty of that-â
âYou know what, I donât want to hear it from you. Alright? Enough with the high horse, Trace. Youâre the one who fucked up first. And who did he come to when he-â
âI gotta go to the bathroom.â
Neelâs up and away from the table faster than he can process, heart hammering in his chest as he turns on his heel and stalks toward the restrooms at the far end of the hall. His hands are shaking, so he shoves them into his pockets and tries to ignore the feeling of eyes watching his back as he retreats.
This was a mistake.
The bathroom is, thankfully, empty. He turns on the tap. Splashes some cold water on his face and tries to get a grip. Theyâre his parents. And theyâre here and fuck, isnât that more than like, 90% of his teammates can say? They only argue because they care about him. Because theyâre not comfortable with each other, anymore. Itâs got nothing to do with him.
They came. They care.
And yet, the thought of going back out there (trying to be normal, listening to them talk about him like heâs not there, pretending to be okay with it â all of it) is daunting enough to leave his knees feeling weak and wobbly.
The pressure is justâŚ. too much. Itâs all just too fucking much, after years of silence.
Without pausing to think about it, Neel bursts out of the bathroom and heads for the auxiliary exit that dumps out to the north side of campus, near the dorms. He keeps his head down, shoulders hunched, but if his parents notice him, they donât call out.
Once outside, it only takes him a few minutes to reach Fox Tower at an all-out sprint. (When the hell had he started running?) He takes the stairs, two at a time, and slams into his surprisingly deserted dorm room with a grimace. He throws a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt into his duffle, along with a Gatorade from the fridge, and is on his way to the court a few minutes later.
Wrestling his phone out of his back pocket as he walks, he blazes by the missed messages and calls and voicemails and goes straight to his contacts.
He doesnât know why he hits âCallâ instead of just sending a message.
The voicemail prompt startles him enough that he starts speaking, out of breath and oddly emotional.
âHey. Sorry. I-⌠Look, if youâre not busy, can you meet me at the court? Please,â he pretends not to notice the way his breath hitches, or how his throat feels suspiciously tight, âI just⌠need to be there. Preferably not alone.â
Send â for one of my museâs prized possessions.
One of her prized possessions was once a picture of her, Martin, and Miranda. The OâSheas. It was framed and gorgeous. They looked as happy as could be in it, curled up together in front of a crackling fire Christmas morning and a tree with a mountain of unopened presents off in the corner. When Daphne was no longer Daphne but instead Claudia, she kept that picture for years, even brought it with her to Palmetto. Maybe she was holding onto hope that just because she was born to Clark and Jessica, she was still an OâShea at heart. After a breakthrough with Betsy where she finally came to terms with the fact that Miranda never loved her and was just using her to replace the child she killed, she smashed the frame in a rage and tore the photo to shreds. She keeps them in her room, shoved into a baggie and hidden in her desk but she hasnât bothered to put the picture back together.
Send ጠfor a crush my muse has had.
The first real crush Claudia had happened at Palmetto. In San Diego, she was still trying to pick up the pieces of who Claudia was and who she wasnât, figuring out the line where Daphne ended and Claudia began. Arlo Booth was easily one of the first friends Claudia made in South Carolina, if not the first. She fell for him faster than she thought was possible to have a crush on the guy. Sneaking out onto the roof during the nights and looking up at the stars, sharing secrets and laughing was the easiest way into her heart. After having it broken the way it was, that both scared her and thrilled her. A whirlwind romance that didnât last very long, they decided they were better off as friends. Claudia still holds a spot for him as her first real love and a small torch for him. Sheâs not holding out hope that theyâll be together, she just wants him to be happy. It was why she never told him she was pregnant, something she found out when they broke up. She didnât tell anyone about the abortion, either.Â
If Teddyâs completely honest, he didnât do as much Exy or general exercise over the summer as he couldâve. If it hadnât been for taking Bacon on runs, he likely wouldâve avoided being physical at all costs. He was exhausted at the end of last season; between his personal life and a lot of hard games ending in fights or injuries, Teddy was ready to get away from Exy for a few weeks and thatâs just what he did. He didnât so much as look at a racket until after the road trip.
Now, however, the start of practices was right around the corner and Teddy felt anxiously unprepared. He wanted to get onto the court before the others, just to see how much work he had to do before official practices commenced. Really, he just wanted to make sure he hadnât lost as much skill as he thought he had.
It was a minor setback when Teddy couldnât figure out the new code the court and he spent a good 15 minutes trying as many as he could remember before he ended up furiously trying to kick the door in until security sent him on his way. If there was one person that was going to know the code then it was Grant which was how Teddy ended up wandering around Fox Tower for what seemed like forever until he found the other.
âThere you are!â He exclaimed, jogging over to Grant, âHey, have you got a code to get into the court? I didnât get the new one yet.â He didnât mention  that he wanted to get in to get a head start on everyone else just in case all his talent had been thrown to the wind during the break.
         It hurt more than it had in months. Why had they pushed themself so hard? It was just practice and they needed to save their energy for games. Theyâd done such a good job at not pushing themself too hard in practice, but with the Trojan game coming up again, Pax was feeling the stress. This time they were determined to help them win. Pax clutched their side and doubled over in pain. It wasnât as bad as when theyâd first broken the bone, but it still hurt more than they were used to it. The pain subsided just a bit and they managed to get to a sitting position. At least it wasnât their leg this time. When that hurt, it was awful and Pax wanted to cry. Though having their rib feel like this was no walk in the park either.Â
           âItâs fine, itâs fine. Iâm okay,â Pax muttered, closing their eyes to take a deep breath. âItâll be okay in a second.â It took a moment, but the pain subsided and Pax felt better. It became easier to breathe again and their rib didnât feel like it was going to stab them in the gut.Â
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[text] do u know that i am afraid to get up and go pee at night bc joel told me if i wake you up youâll make me run sprints for every minute of sleep i make you lose?[text] ...this is not stress i need in my life
Send â$â for an ACCIDENTAL text.
[text] what r u suggesting i do? i canât tell him. i donât want to risk that.[text] dude. my bad. wrong person.
Send âââ for a RUSHED text.Â
[text] IM RUNNING LATE[text] I KNOW[text] pls donât kill me
[text] wait that wasnât meant for you but like IF YOU WANNA I WOULD BE HONORED
Send âââ for a DRUNK text.Â
[text] grant
[text] GRANT
[text] Iâve been drinking less bc championships and now Iâm drunker than I meant to be because tolerance or some shit but i want you to know that and then i would you tell me you recongize my responsiblity and sacrifice
Send â%â for a CURIOUS text.
[text] soOoOoOoooOOOoooOO Zia may have ~accidentally~ sent me a text about some one on one Exy practice you wouldnât know anything about that would you?????????? đđđđ
[sent â GRANTÂ at 1:02AM]: I think I just heard drunk teammates fighting in the hall...
[sent â GRANT at 1:03AM]: Please tell me youâre awake to help me break this up.
â@â for a SCARED text.
[sent â GRANT at 3:50PM]: Even though we won and everything Iâm just waiting for that one article to come out that undoes all the good thatâs happened over the past week.
[sent â GRANT at 3:52PM]: I donât know how much more of that I can really take.
[sent â GRANT at 3:53PM]: Even I have my breaking point.
âăâ for an EXCITED text.
[sent â GRANT at 12:44PM]: Guess whoâs looking at pro game tickets???
[sent â GRANT at 12:47PM]: Since we donât have a game this weekend I was thinking it would be a good time - pick up some pointers from watching the pro teams and all...
âââ for a text that WASNâT SENT.
[drafted â GRANT at 6:22AM]: I donât know what this is, but I really like it - like, being around you more often and everything, you know?
[drafted â GRANT at 6:23AM]: Iâm really glad I let you in, no matter what it leads to.
