[gfyskieran-blog]

TEXT: HARPER

Kieran: happy birthday, harps

[gfyskieran-blog]

TEXT: WILL

Kieran: happy birthday, handsome

[gfyskieran-blog]

.srryskip:

“Y’know, they don’t deserve you.”

Skip couldn’t help but let her eyebrows fly upwards in surprise, unmasked shock evident on her face. It wasn’t uncalled for to be caught off guard by a compliment though, not after the week that she’d had. Giving Kieran a curious look, she wondered if he was having her on or if he really meant it. Doubt clouded her judgment and she half wondered if he was just saying that to soften her up before he turned on her. But from what Skip knew, Kieran had never been Tyler or Connie’s biggest fan before, so she was suddenly inclined to believe him.

“I don’t think they’d agree,” she admitted, pressing her lips together before giving him a grateful smile all the same.

She didn’t know why Kieran had chosen to see things from her point of view instead of listening to all the rumours that had trickled like malicious little droplets into the proverbial gossip pool at college, but she figured she shouldn’t take it for granted. She had to ponder over what he did think her point of view was though. The general consensus was that she had crawled into bed with Tyler fully aware of what she was doing. Connie had been the first person she’d wanted to convince otherwise, but the fact that she’d been blackout drunk during the whole ordeal hadn’t resonated with the woman, the gravitas of the situation flying right over Skip’s ex-friend’s head until the brunette wasn’t even sure it mattered to Connie that she’d been… Well, at this point she was beginning to doubt there was even a word for what had happened to her. Connie wasn’t willing to call her a victim, thinking that slut was a more apt label.

“Really?” she frowned at Kieran’s claim. She had never been the type of person to fret over people picking Stace and Connie over her, especially when her gymnastics came before boys. But to hear Kieran blatantly state that he’d rather hang out with her instead of any of her old clique inside was… strange. Perhaps a good kind of strange though.

“It’s not all lies,” Skip pointed out, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears and fiddling with the split ends. Why she seemed insistent on pushing everyone else’s view of things onto Kieran, she didn’t know, although she supposed it would be better for him to turn on her now rather than later.

“I mean, what have you heard?” she asked him. “I did sleep with Tyler. And he was dating Connie at the time. Those are the facts.”

Mentioning that she hadn’t remembered any of it seemed redundant now. If Connie didn’t believe her then that meant no one else would, and Skip was now beginning to believe herself that it was a trivial fact that didn’t excuse what she’d done to her friend.

“I don’t mind hearing back talk about Tyler actually,” she pointed out, turning towards Kieran a little and letting her fingers trail over the railing so her nails could scrape at the peeling paint there. “But Connie and Stace… I dunno, I think it’s harder for me to turn against them than it is for those two to hate me.”

Giving Kieran a lame shrug, she listened as he called out Tyler and a reluctant smile made its way onto her face.

“I think that’s offensive to rats,” she joked, returning Kieran’s nudge with a bump of her own shoulder.

Brushing her hair from her eyes, she hoisted herself up onto the railing so she was balanced precariously on it. It was a ten-storey drop and a long, long way to the concrete below but she had every faith in her skills to perch on the balcony without falling, years of practise helping her along. What nearly made her wobble was the sight of Tyler inside catching her eye and she bit back a sigh.

“Head’s up,” she warned Kieran when the jock in question began making his way towards them.

The look of surprise on Skip's face, and the tone that accompanied it, when he'd told her he'd rather hang out with her than the likes of Connie and Stace didn't surprise Kieran. People like them – the popular kids, if you will – were the exact kind of people that everyone clamoured to be friends with, and in turn being ridiculed and belittled by the exact people that they were trying to impress. Kieran never fell for that shit, though, and had no interest in entertaining the kind of people who thought they were somehow better than. He had enough grief dealing with his idiot uncle and having to listen to him kiss up to him, he didn't have the patience to do the same at college.

“Yeah, really. I don't have th'energy for liars, or fakes,” he told her, following his words up with an indifferent shrug.

His words were soon brushed aside by Skip's own admission, and he found himself watching her with an arched brow of disbelief. It was one thing for people to be spreading such vicious rumours – and at their age? Really? – but for Skip to be standing in front of him and letting them get the better of her, to actively encourage people to believe that she was the one in the wrong, was just sad to watch.

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head at her, not for a second letting her think she'd fooled him. He had no idea why she wanted him to believe all that shit, but Kieran wasn;t about to let anybody make his mind up for him, not even someone as seemingly nice as Skip.

“Tyler's a creep.” he stated, matter of factly.

Huffing out a sigh, he pursed his lips as he tried to find the right words. It was a sensitive subject, no matter how you broached it. He didn't want to make Skip uncomfortable, but as cliché and ridiculous as it may seem, it made his skin crawl to think she was happily taking the blame for Tyler's own actions. He wouldn't claim to know what really went down that night, but he knew enough about him to know not everything was as it seemed, and none of it sat right with him.

“Tyler's got a hist'ry for treatin' girls like objects, an' for takin' advantage of people, y'know?” he mused. The y'know being entirely rhetorical, of course. If anyone had any clue, it was Skip. “He uses people. He's scum.”

Of course, telling Skip that Tyler was scum wasn't exactly news to the girl. No matter what she had to say about the recent fall-out between herself and her friends, and how hard she might be trying to stay in their good graces, it didn't hide the obvious disdain she held towards the boy in question. Clenching a fist and holding it close to his side, Kieran found himself subconsciously grinding his teeth in anger towards the other guy. He barely even knew Skip, and this had to be the longest interaction the two of them had ever had, and yet that didn't still the strange sense of protectiveness flaring through him right now. He was certain he'd feel that towards anyone on the other side of Tyler's shenanigans, though.

“Any moron with half a brain can see when someone's had a little too much t'drink. It doesn't take a genius t'recognise when enough's enough. An' if i've been hearin' right, Tyler crossed a line,” he added, keeping his voice low and careful.

Everything he knew about Skip's situation was from word and mouth, each new story different from the other, filtered beyond belief as it was flung down the rumour mill. He could only hazard a guess as to the full details of what had happened, but Tyler had been the one in relationship, and he'd been the one to take advantage of a girl who hadn't been sober enough to speak up.

Turning his head away from her, and glaring through the doorway and at Tyler in the distance, he rolled his eyes and shrugged. Taking a deep breath, he allowed his features to relax as he turned back towards Skip, forcing a smile on his face to make up for the tension from before.

“Sorry. I just think s'kinda shitty that y'feel like you've gotta defend 'em when they've fucked y'over so badly.”

When Skip commented that she had a hard time writing off Stace and Connie in the same way that she did Tyler, Kieran didn't bat an eyelid. Once more he was unsurprised by the fact that she was so eager to come to their defences. In all honesty, they were harmless in comparison to someone like Tyler anyway – whose actions had long since crossed the line into dangerous, nevermind illegal, immoral, and a few choice words of Kieran's that weren't quite so PG.

“That's 'cause you're a better person than they are. An', I guess, when you're friends with someone s'not easy just droppin' 'em, even when they treat y'like dirt,” he admitted, awkwardly biting down on his lower lip. He'd never begin to understand the workings of other peoples' minds – hell, he barely understood his own mind at times – but he couldn't hold any authority above anyone. He knew damn well that there were plenty of people that didn't approve of his own life and choices, so he didn't have much right stepping in on other peoples decisions. “I guess y'jus' give a damn 'bout others even when they ain't worth a thought.”

A brief smirk flitted onto his lips momentarily at her remark about offending rats, but it was instantly wiped away as he watched her hoist herself up onto the balcony. Well Jesus. He knew the folks inside had had a bad effect on her, but he hadn't stopped to think it might have made her suicidal.

“What the–?” he gasped, before anxiously reaching a hand out as though to stop her.

Snapping his head back and forth between Skip and the party inside, and in more of a panic than he knew himself capable, he threw his arm out to rest his hand on her back, as though to stop her body from slipping backwards. When he realised that she had a hold on herself he pulled his arm away, feeling a strange bout of insecurity at his own uncharacteristic nervousness, before shaking his head and letting out a shaky laugh.

“You got a death wish, Temple?” he snapped, though there was no real bite in his tone.

Clearing his throat, he glanced up at her words, and instantly felt his body stiffen at their unwanted arrival. Running a careless hand through his stray locks, he pushed his hair back, knocking back loose tendrils that fell before his eyes, before raising himself to his full height and setting his sights on Tyler.

“Clear off, Ty,” he told the boy, his tone strong and fierce, the nickname dropping from his lips as though the two were old friends.

They weren't, and he had no interest in ever becoming acquainted with him, but he always figured feigning familiarity and casual indifference always gave him that extra advantage. People had told Kieran more than once that he presented himself as quite intimidating at times, and he only hoped it was paying off now. When the boy didn't budge from the doorway, he spoke up again.

“I said clear off. Ain't nobody want y'here. This area's reserved for people with a li'l fuckin' thing called human decency,” he told Tyler. With a quick wave off his hands, he gestured inside before adding, “Now run along.”

[gfyskieran-blog]

.srryskip:

Kieran was the kind of guy that Stace and Connie had giggled about from afar, always onhand to make passing comments about his ‘tacky’ leather jacket. Skip, who was usually too busy practising her handstands on the quad where her friends sat, secretly thought that perhaps their snide remarks were compensation for their ego, in order to make up for the time Kieran had rebuffed their overenthusiastic flirting. Skip supposed that she hadn’t had the opportunity to form a real opinion of Kieran Davies for herself, but he didn’t currently look like he wanted to sacrifice her to the gods as revenge, so she supposed her feelings towards him were quite positive at that moment.

“The phonies…” Skip echoed softly, biting her lip awkwardly. A foolish sense of loyalty rose up in her, urging her to tell the boy that those were her friends that he was name-calling. But were they really her friends, after everything? Skip was certain that she wasn’t theirs and let out a quiet sigh, abandoning the beer bottle on the table in favour of gripping the railing.

A laugh fell from her lips at his words, the first genuine one all week and she granted Kieran with a smile.

“I think that ‘hate’ is a strong word,” she pointed out, that particular mantra having chased her since childhood when her father had thought it appropriate to teach a six-year-old the difference between dislike and pure, unadulterated hate. He had wanted to assure her that she didn’t really hate Cynthia from next door for cutting the hair off her American Girl dolls, even though Skip had argued that she certainly did. It was only as the years went on that Skip understood that her father, a man of war who had good reason to hate people when his friends were being gunned down at his side, had been trying to help her realise that hate should be reserved for the truly evil people of the word.

“Although…” Skip piped up, tilting her head in consideration as she glanced back inside at the party, thinking of Tyler as she did so. She let out a humourless laugh. “The feeling is probably mutual.”

Wrinkling her nose a little, she rocked back on her heels, maintaining her balance by tightening her grip on the balcony railings. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she glanced back over towards Kieran.

“Outcast or not, if you still have some cred than I would run if I were you. You don’t really want to get caught talking to me,” she warned him, clicking her tongue off the roof of her mouth to emphasise her point.

“I am… a bit of a pariah right now,” she told him, even though she was sure that he, his mother and his grandma had all heard the rumours about her. With a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, Skip turned so her back was leaning against the railings, giving her a clear view of the party. Crossing her arms over her chest, she spotted Tyler jostling uncaringly with his friends, completely at ease and free of the same judgment Skip was facing. As a sour taste settled in her mouth, the brunette chose to inhale deeply and stare down at her tennis shoes instead.

“Anyway, why are you out here?” she asked Kieran.

Kieran eyed Skip curiously as she muddled over his 'phony' comment, tilting his head to the side as he watched her chew anxiously on her lower lip. He supposed he couldn't blame her for feeling a little uncertain how to react. The two of them didn't know each other at all, and he'd just insulted a large sum of the people inside, a lot of whom she'd previously called her friends. Of course, those same people were the reason she was now on the outside, having pushed her out with their cruel, unapologetic ways. Still, her loyalty was definitely something to be admired, and he figured it was pretty sweet that she wasn't so willing to throw them under the bus – even if they wouldn't hold the same courtesy towards her.

As a small laugh escaped her lips, Kieran's own quirked at the corners in return. No matter how little he knew about Skip Temple, and how much he loathed the gaggle of mean girls that she had once called her friends, there was no denying the vast contrast in her demeanour over the past few weeks. Anyone could see the way she had switched from being popular, well liked, and happy, to being discarded and treated as if she were some kind of villain. Being able to garner at least the slightest hint of a smile from her felt like a victory in itself.

“Y'know, they don't deserve you,” he commented, glancing at Skip before staring over his shoulder at the party inside. The place was filled with loud music, mingled with the sounds of frat boys whoop-ing, and the high pitched squeals and giggles of girls who would do just about anything for an instagram like. “I mean, you're not out here cuttin' 'em down, which is admirable, but they sure don't deserve how nice you're treatin' 'em considerin'.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, he turned back and stared back out over the balcony, leaning lazily against the railing as he pondered the whole situation. The fact that someone like Tyler – with his slicked back hair and his smug face – could hold such credibility among their classmates, while someone like Skip – who, far as Kieran was concerned, was actually nice, and gave a damn about others – could be treated like some kinda public enemy number one, was about as twisted as it got.

Barking out a laugh at her words, Kieran shook his head before looking back up at her, a grin on his face. Turning and leaning his elbow against the railing, he met her eye before responding.

“Trust me, I don't give a damn about 'street cred' or any o'that crap,” he told her with a scoff. “I'd rather be seen with you than anyone in there.”

Watching as Skip twisted her body to get a better look inside, Kieran frowned at her. Even without the knowledge of all the rumours circulating about Skip, any idiot could see something wasn't quite right. From the insincere smile that she continually plastered on her face, to the way she carried herself, Kieran could tell that she was more than just unhappy, but that she didn't entirely feel safe in their current company.

“S'not alrigh' for them t'get away with that stuff, though,” he told her, his tone firm. His mouth twisted uncomfortably as he thought about all the different bullies and bigots that were happily dancing on the other side of the doorway. All of those kids that thought they could get through life by dragging others down, it was a joke. “I mean, makin' up lies an' treatin' you the way that they did.”

With a sigh, he shifted himself entirely so that he now mirrored Skip's stance, his back pressed against the railing behind them as he scanned the room before them. His gaze fell onto Connie, and he cringed as he tried to suppress countless memories of the girl trying to flirt with him, and the way she'd pushed her chest out and pouted at him when asking him to the winter formal in their final year of high school. Wincing, he averted his gaze as he looked back at Skip, taking in her question.

“Oh, couldn't stand t'be in the same room o'some o'them, y'know?” he admitted, smiling apologetically as he did. “I know y'don't wanna hear any back talk about 'em, what with most o'them being your old friends an' all, but...”

Trailing off, he glanced up one final time to see Tyler and his pack of douchebag friends, only to watch as Tyler sidled up next to some girl, a hungry look in his eyes. That asshole had no sense of decency, and Kieran found himself subconsciously flexing his fist at his side as he glared at the other boy.

“Dunno. Came here hoping I might have at least a little bit o'fun, y'know? Instead, I had t'deal with Tyler and his rat-faced bullshit,” he told her, his tone still dark as his stared burned holes into the back of Tyler's head.

Clearing his throat, he glanced back at Skip, imagining the last thing she'd wanna be talking about was him. Shrugging, he leaned forward and bumped his his shoulder against hers playfully. “Still, s'not all bad, huh?”

[gfyskieran-blog]

.plsnoah:

I’m gonna need to take you through this bit by bit, huh? ALTOGOD IS HER TRUE FORM. Touch on ‘em all, it’ll be like getting a crash course in Noah-world.

It’s Ben Platt so I’d still be better than everyone else. And he’s not just ‘this Ben guy’ HE IS A DREAMBOAT. This is a painful conversation to have, but sure Enjolras is Beyoncé. He’d stan Formation.

Yeah, I think so. You’ll have t’be patient with me. This is my first class in Broadwayisms. So, she’s good, huh? Who’s she, then? An’ then there were two Laura’s? I can’t keep up, already.

I mean, if y’say so. I still think y’should probably aim higher, but also I have no damn clue what I’m talkin’ about, so. A dreamboat, though? Do people really still say that? This conversation alone feels like stepping into another dimension, but c’mon then, you’ll have t’fill me in a little more on this guy.

[gfyskieran-blog]

.plsnoah:

It’s uplifting. You leave and you’re like YOU KNOW WHAT? YEAH! I WILL BE FOUND. Honestly, the Tonys are gonna be a freaking cagematch this year. Laura Dreyfussus and Christy Altogod are both coming for those noms. And oh my God, Laura Osnes! Oh my God, it’s gonna be like Christmas for me.

As much as I’d love to be confused with Ben Platt, I’d rather it be where we’re a domesticated married couple and so co-dependent that we’ve merged together and people are like, ‘Hey! Is that Ben Platt, or Noah Croft? We just don’t know.’ But feel free to call me any of the following musical related names: Enjolras, Jack Kelly, Roger Davis or Dimitri.

You will be found? S’a metaphor for somethin’, I take it? Wait, hold on. You’re sayin’ a lotta stuff I don’t understand, but Altogod? That a real name, or jus’ you bein’ dramatic? There’s so many things I think I needa touch on here, but... So little time, y’know.

Y’don’t wanna have your own identity? Jus’ be one in the same as the guy you wed? Like, you’re into this theatre shebang, so don’t y’want people to look at you and see you as bigger an’ better than this Ben guy? I dunno who any o’those are either. Enjolras an’ Dimitri? They like the Beyoncé an’ Madonna’s of the theatre world or somethin’?

[gfyskieran-blog]

.plsnoah:

it’s a work of art. An emotional work of that that makes you cry for forever. Ans that’s a pun you’d understand and appreciate if you had the faintest scooby about what I’m talking about.

I mean, who am I to tell you now to follow your dreams? Go forth, Sherlock. 

Well, shit. I’m sorry I dunno nothin’ about the show, but I did catch th’pun. Sorta. But only from your original post about all the, y’know, weepin’. Tell me, what’s so great about a show that just makes y’cry so much, though?

Thanks for the support, uh... Ben. I dunno who tha’ is, but I dunno any theatre folk and you mentioned him before, so.

[gfyskieran-blog]

.plsnoah:

Get on Morgy-Free’s level.

Your leap could have been a teeny tiny baby step and you would still be right. And hey, I didn’t even need to do jazz hands.

So, what’s so mind blowin’ ‘bout this Evan guy tha’s got you an' Morgan Freeman all excited?

I’m very intuitive like that. Y’didn’t even have t’bust out a show-tune and yet, jus’ like that... Y’think I’ve got a career ahead o’me as the next Sherlock Holmes?

[gfyskieran-blog]

.plsnoah:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT DOESN’T DO IT FOR YOU DEAR EVAN HANSEN DOES IT FOR EVERYONE EVEN MORGAN FREEMAN.

Sorry, sorry, I’m chill but oy vey, my mans. We’ll go with musical clairvoyant. I like the sound of that.

Yeah, y’see... Morgan Freeman and I? Not as similar as y’think. Shocking, I know, and yet...

I’m gonna take a giant leap here an’ say musicals are your thing? Just a wild stab in th’dark.

[gfyskieran-blog]

.plsnoah:

Have you heard iconique anthem For Forever sung by light of my life Ben Platt? There’s a specific sort of musical meltdown you have listening to that and I can identify that shizzle a mile away.

I have not. Y’see, Chuck - m’older brother - he might get it. He’s into that stuff, doesn’t do it for me, though. What’s that make you, then? Some sorta musical clairvoyant or somethin’?

[plsnoah-blog1]

I was sitting next to a girl on the subway today and she was listening to Dear Evan Hansen and it got to ‘For Forever’ and we both broke down and started crying on the D-train, so that’s that on that.

[gfyskieran-blog]

Y’have very different experiences on the’subway than I do, I reckon. Y’sure you didn’t just piggyback some poor girl’s meltdown and assume it was the song?

[srryskip-blog]

“Why is she here?”

The hissed whisper uttered with such a lack of subtlety echoed all around the room as Skip hovered in the doorway. She paused, one tennis shoe-clad foot on one side of the threshold while the other remained firmly planted in the hallway. Her sweaty hand slipped when she tried to grip the doorknob and she was all too ready to turn and bolt when she was jostled forward by a group of newcomers.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to – oh, it’s you,” came the aborted apology from Stace as she glanced sharply across the room towards Connie, the girl standing by the drinks table, arms folded, a red plastic cup in her hand and a glare on her face that made Skip rethink her stupid decision to even bother coming to the party in the first place. The brunette tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and risked a glance towards Stace, the bottle blonde screwing up her features as she gave her a disdainful once over. The last time she’d received a look like that from the other rally girl had been in her freshman year of high school when she’d mistakenly decided to wear socks with sandals. This time, the scrutiny seemed more threatening, but Skip was desperate.

“Stace, can you please just get Con to talk to me?” she asked, tugging nervously at the sleeves of her signature pink flannel. She bit back a sigh when Stace simply raised an eyebrow, her gaze darting between Skip and Connie before a disbelieving laugh tore from her throat.

“You really think you’re in a place to ask that?” Stace asked, her tone biting. “You’ve made your bed and now you have to lie in it. Maybe without your supposed best friend’s boyfriend.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Skip argued, but Stace was already turning away and Skip’s words were drowned out by the music.

Wrapping her arms around herself, hands cupping her elbows, Skip glanced over at the door and realised her escape route was blocked by the boy Connie was mad at her over. Tyler glanced up and caught her staring and the wink he sent Skip’s way sent a shudder coursing through her whole body. Swiftly turning away, she grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby keg with no intentions of drinking it given what happened last time she got drunk at a party like this, but rolling the cold glass between her hands helped calm her nerves as she pushed her way through a crowd of judgmental eyes, stumbling as she went and lacking any of the grace and poise that she exhibited when balancing on a beam or pummel horse.

Her heart raced faster and faster as she murmured apologies that were met with harsh scoffs when people realised just who was trying to elbow her way through the masses of grinding bodies. She turned her head sharply when she caught the words ‘that Temple slut’ that reached her ears, but when she glanced around to see who had shouted them, she was simply met with various smirks and narrowed eyes.

Turning away, she finally broke through the group of college students who had all seemingly turned against her within the space of one short week, and made her way out onto the balcony. The cool air immediately blew through her hair and she breathed a sigh of relief that helped counteract the lump forming in her throat. Her original plan had been to come and apologise, to talk things out with Connie and implore her friend to understand that things weren’t as they seemed. But Connie could barely even look at her without looking downright murderous, which left Skip regretting her arrival entirely.

She pulled her hair into a ponytail so she could lift it and press the cold beer bottle against her neck to alleviate the prickly heat creeping up there. Huffing out a soft sigh, she didn’t realise the balcony was otherwise occupied until she fluttered her eyes open and noticed a vaguely familiar face. She sort of knew who Kieran Davies was through word of mouth and the fact that they’d frequented the same parties before, but she’d never spent a prolonged amount of time with the other boy, and never alone. Still, the lack of hostility on his face when he spotted her was a welcome relief and she gave him a tiny smile.

“I was just looking for the outcasts corner,” she joked feebly. “Do you know if I’m close?”

[gfyskieran-blog]

In all honesty, Kieran had no idea why he came to these dumb parties sometimes. While they were filled with a bunch of other students his age, who he supposed he was meant to have some sort of unspoken connection with, he kinda loathed a vast majority of them. Any of the idiots that tried to say that College was any better than High School was a liar. The whole belief that kids grew up and instantly became tolerable and actually decent human beings once they made the transition was utter bullshit, and the vindictive rumours and mindless bullying that surrounded him in the hallways – and even this Godforsaken party – was enough proof of that.

Truth be told, the only reason Kieran had actually bothered to show up was for the free booze, and the vague possibility of finding someone that might manage to capture his attention for five minutes. He'd long since given up on that idea, though, and had opted for loitering in the corner of the room, scanning the vicinity for a familiar – and welcome – face, but to no avail. As he watched the jocks and their prissy, bitchy girlfriends flounce around the place as though they owned it – although, realistically, they probably did – he rolled his eyes, letting out a groan as he thought of having to endure another semester with Connie and her band of assholes.

Tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand, he tilted his head back to chug the remains, wincing as the sour taste of cheap beer hit his tongue, before discarding the empty bottle onto a table in front of him. Just as he'd done so, a face looked up at him and he registered just who had been sitting at the table he'd just decided to litter, and he rolled his eyes at the sight.

Everyone knew who Tyler was, because everyone either wanted to be him, or everyone wanted to be with him. Kieran's own resolve landed firmly in neither of those categories, which was probably partially the reason he liked to think of himself as a complete nobody on the other guy's radar. Unfortunately, they were now face to face, and Tyler looked just about as displeased as Kieran felt. Offering him a wry smile, Kieran leaned over and swiped one of the shots that was sitting in front of the other boy, knocked it back, and then began to retreat, ignoring the angered tones that echoed behind him.

“Jackass,” he muttered under his breath, never turning back to even hear what the douche had to say.

He'd heard enough about their kind, and just how they treated other people, and if there was one thing that Kieran never tolerated it was bullies. He knew how he used, and manipulated people, just as he knew that Tyler had a tendency to take advantage of people and bend them to his own will, using the situation for his own benefit, and always somehow managing to get people on his side – despite being a giant sack of shit.

Needing a short break from the shitty music, and the shitty company, Kieran made his way towards the open doorway and strolled out onto the balcony, the cold hair whipping against his face, a wave of relief washing over him in the process. Slipping as far out onto the balcony as possible, the tiny slither of wall behind him shielding him from view of the party goers, he leaned forward and rested his elbows against the balcony and stared out at the New York skyline.

Bored out of his mind, he was just about considering leaving when a noise sounded beside him, and he glanced up upon realising he had company. Where he thought he was about to see one of the many minions of hell, he was relieved to find someone that he hadn't actually grown to hate. Looking Skip up and down, he smiled sadly at the girl when he thought of his brief encounter with Tyler only moments before. It was no secret just why Skip had become something of a pariah of late, all of her friends having abandoned her, making her the talk of the campus.

“Oh yeah, you're spot on,” he told her, adopting a serious tone as he nodded intently at her. Gesturing a hand to their small space on the balcony, he added, “This here's the outcast's balcony. S'for anyone wantin' to escape all those phonies inside. Current population: two.”

He didn't know Skip too well, but he figured from the look on her face that her night wasn't going so great, and he figured it might be a nice change for her to not feel like she was being scrutinised or treated like dirt. He'd heard the demeaning words like slut and whore thrown towards her, and his stomach turned at the thought of it.

“S'free admission, but y'get a nice members only badge if y'hate at least twenty of those clowns inside,” he added, gesturing back to the party with a nod.

[bangurz]