#thread: milo

Court was fairly panicked. The valentine he had gotten pointed towards one person in his mind - Ollie. He knew that Ollie did illegal things. The whole doing people's homework and tests and fudging their grades and all. But if Ollie was G...and Coco knew it...why would he give him a valentine pointing towards his own wrong doing? He felt like he was being led into a trap and he had no idea how to get out of it. So...he went to one person he had raised his suspicions about Ollie in the past too, even if it had been nearly a year ago. Finally spotting Milo - having been watching for him for nearly an hour - Court approached him, his hesitation visible in every line of his frame as he slipped into the seat across from him. "Hey," he said, a nervous chuckle audible in his voice. "Can I, uh...talk to you about something?"

Mari's eyes flickered over the Tri Delt pledges, complete in their little cupid outfits as they squealed and giggled at each other, collecting the roses they were tasked with handing out. They seemed so excited about it - she couldn't exactly say she agreed with that sentiment, a heavy sigh leaving her lips before she rolled her eyes, turning to look at Milo. "Shit - should I have gotten you a shit ton of roses for the press to obsess over?" she asked, a teasing sarcasm coming to her lilting tone.

Sassa had known there had to be something more to the story, to Milo and the way he looked down upon everyone else on the tennis court. She worked hard, most of the time (between bouts of calculated protest and refusal due to not being the best), but Greer and Milo had always seemed…unreachable. Despite having no details and a whole host of doubt that he’d be honest with her, Sassa already felt vindicated as she approached him, a slow smirk spreading across her lips. “If I told you I wanted my resolution for the new year to be…bettering my tennis game…” she paused, an innocent look up at her partner as she spoke with earnestness heavy in her voice. “Would you have any tips for me?” 

a faint chill crawled up the backs of august’s legs as she swung them out of bed, finally giving in to the fact that her body was resisting sleep. she’d set down her book—Moby Dick, a leather-bound edition of black and gold thread—about an hour ago, the cogs in her mind refusing to slow even after she’d placed it back on her nightstand. many of her nights took a similar course; more than she’d like to admit. the near-silence was unsettling, august never having predicted that she’d miss the constant hum of a living, moving city just outside her window. her feet met the hardwood and she sighed, considering her options, then moving around her bed and towards a window. it’d been left open a crack, the air surprisingly warm for this early in the year. she wouldn’t have to bundle up to go outside, an intriguing thought that led to another and another until she landed on the idea of going for a swim—the first of the year, the first since she’d been back. perhaps a few laps and some time dedicated to staying afloat would tire her out enough to make a few hours of sleep possible.

not bothering to change out of the navy slip that hung from her shoulders, august quietly opened her bedroom door and started down the hall. then, without allowing herself a second to think it through, she approached the door to the guestroom she’d offered sam and knocked twice. she half-expected him not to be there, growing used to the way he appeared like an apparition every two or three days. a feat that wouldn’t be so easily achieved once her dads were back home next week. truthfully, august hadn’t put any thought into what would happen then, though she reassured herself that things would work themselves out just fine. still, the obstacle—the inability to decide one-hundred percent, on her own what happened in her living space—made the prospect of looking for an apartment more appealing. soon. maybe. an apartment felt permanent, a commitment for at least six months, and frankly she didn’t want to make such a decision just yet.

having waited a few seconds, she slowly opened the door a couple inches, stepping forward to peek inside. he was there—and if she was seeing correctly, he too was still awake. august didn’t know which one managed to surprise her more. “hey,” she spoke quietly, pushing the door open some more and leaning against its frame. “i realized that you’ve been here a handful of days, give or take, and still haven’t tried out the pool. so... care to join me?” not quite waiting for an answer, she nodded towards the staircase and began walking backwards and away from the door.

closed starter for @idmilo

dax knows he can’t complain outwardly on set. his entire image is made up of charming smiles, jokes and an all together boyfriend look. the cf for toni moli that the boys are shooting is something that should be right up his alley. all day, he had to keep a dumb smile plastered on his face even when they weren’t filming just to keep up the facade that he was a sweet guy. the entire time at the commercial shoot, though, dax was just thinking about how wrong of a group titanium was for this specific commercial. it was full of brightness and cute looks while most of the members would rather be doing... well anything other than just that. he could look at a member at any point during the shoot and tell they were over it as much as he was. 

it was funny; for a guy who seemed like he couldn’t like anyone if he tried, he really had a connection with the boys in titanium. when they were trainees, dax was about as vile as someone could be and yet somehow he was able to form a camaraderie with the boys once they were in a group. he was almost certain that every member of the group had complained about him at least once to management, and yet being stuck in a group together brought them closer. no more so than with milo. they had started off completely wrong, slightly competing against each other because of their dance backgrounds and desire to debut. once they were put together, though, they really took to each other. dax knew he could rely on milo to be just as up for dumb shit as he was. 

which is why when they get home from the shoot, the first thing dax does is tell milo he’s making them both a drink. something too strong for a weeknight, especially since they’ll have promotions for dramarama tomorrow for sure, but oh well. one or seven drinks won’t ruin them. he pulls off his pants and immediately throws on sweatpants and a hoodie, running his hands through his hair to help pull apart the leftover styling gel from the commercial shoot. he makes his way to the kitchen, taking out two short glasses to pour a generous amount of whiskey into before topping it off with a splash of coke. gently, he spins them around a bit to mix them before taking a small sip out of his cup as he walks to where milo is sitting on the living room couch. 

Sassa aimed for the couch in the living room where Milo was sitting, dropping beside him with an innocent smile and quick flutter of her lashes. She was endearing, of course. "You don't look like you're having a good time," she said, eyes scanning over Milo's face. Though that could just be his typical expression. It was hard to say with him.

It was her birthday, she didn't have anymore classes that afternoon, tennis practice had gone well - truly, could anything ruin Sassa's day at this point? She didn't think so. At least not until her phone buzzed. A hint of a smile had even stayed on her face, since there were still plenty of people she was waiting for messages from as she pulled it out to read whatever had come in.

That smile faded quickly, Sassa stopping dead in her tracks as she read what was on the screen. "What the fuck?" she practically hissed, the angry words slipping from her lips before she could stop them, even with all of her teammates exiting the courts around her, plenty of them within hearing distance - and likely reading the same news themselves.