like the brutal morning sun, it DAWNS on me — what have i done? saying sorry ain't as good as saying WHY, but it buys me a little more TIME. each fuck up that i make that makes you CRY. i'm as pathetic, as the reason why. in DESPERATION, all that you can do is ask me . . .
✎ . . . a multimuse, dependent rpg blog for @campusloser written by kris.
mun : thirty+, pst, she / her
roster :
carter cortez . . . twenty5, team captain of the saint rivera titan's ice hockey team and a member of new directions. ( taylor zahkar perez ).
micah de leon . . . twenty2, member of the cheerios!, student body government, and wellness club ( evan mock ).
the sheer audacity of this guy is making his right eye twitch. carter is treating that which matters most to julian as if it's some kind of joke. of course, he's aware what the general consensus on show choir used to be at saint rivera, before carter joined the new directions, but being disrespected in their choir room like this? it hits different, it... is upsetting. "no, i am not losing my mind. i'm being as professional as one can be, while being faced with such a grotesque manifestation of cultural decline!" and yet he's raising his voice, getting heated, allowing some guy with a few sport titles that mean absolutely nothing to julian to get a rise out of him. he knows he should just ignore his him, compose himself, but carter dripping his protein shake sweat onto sondheim, though? yeah, any hope of regaining his cool just flew out of the window.
"would you stop contaminating this place? that's just disgusting!" his face scrunches up, utterly grossed out by the jock, but julian actually recoils at his next remark. b is for broadway, buddy. as he stares at carter like his statement has caused him genuine neurological damage, somewhere in the back of his mind, phantom of the opera's overture starts playing. is this it? is this dime a dozen jock his villain origin story? "b is for... broadway?" his hand flies to his chest. "sondheim is a composer, you absolute moron. he is an actual titan of musical theatre. possibly the greatest lyricist of the modern era, and johanna is one of his masterpieces, and oh. my. GOD. broadway is not a filing category!" he's shaking his head in disbelief. carter couldn't possibly be this ignorant. he has to be doing this intentionally.
then comes the final blow, and the silence that follows is deafening. julian's jaw drops, genuinelly, because that comment actually wounded his pride. "excuse me? we lost sectionals once, for entirely unfair reasons!" his gaze narrows, eyes burning with indignation. "i will have you know that before your football team coup, we were a respected competitive organization! we have the trophies to prove it, and no, not whatever participation trophy nonsense you're used to!" the words leave his mouth before he can stop them. at this point, any semblance of the professionalism he prided himself on has long since abandoned ship.
"i don't care what ridiculous fantasy kelmeckis sold you to get you through that door, but this isn't a place where everyone just gets a gold star for showing up! you. don't. belong. here. carter. you don't care about music, you can't relate to us working hard to achieve our dreams, you just treat everything in this room like it's one big joke to you! and the worst part is that you don't even understand how pathetic that makes you!" for a moment, he just stares at him, breathing heavy. "…out." julian points at the door. "get out of my choir room!"
fire truck. tomato. beet. those are the three shades of red carter lists in his head as julian rants about the hallows of sheet music and show choir. it’s hard to not give credit where it’s due from the level of shit talking. he’s heard something of similar caliber on the ice. sometimes in a different language. every now again those words would escalate into something more violent. carter eyes the other up and down only once before deciding he could take him. but he doesn’t even clench his fists. instead he takes a step back with his arms raised, afraid to trigger julian into another long-winded rant. he still finds himself caring less and less about songtime, and sheet music, and composers; however, listening to the co-captain crashout makes him realize that this club might be more than just the butt of a joke. “you can chill — i’ll go.” the seemingly innocent gesture of throwing his hands up in surrender makes a few droplets of condensation land on julian.
“and don’t freak out, this is way better than a slushy.” yes, the implication was evil, but it was only fair after the verbal lashing. and unfortunately, carter was a little too curious about seeing just how red he could make julian turn. but not today. he still needed to survive the rest of his classes. his feet finally shuffle to the door but he stops in the threshold to face him one last time, refusing to miss the opportunity to correct the other. “and it’s ice hockey, dude — not football.”
it wasn't like aidan was purposely trying to run into micah, but considered it a possibility when he stepped into the other's favorite vintage thrift store. but glee club or no glee club, it wasn't like they could avoid each other forever, going to the same university. however, micah de leon trading the new directions for the cheerio squad definitely wasn't on his bingo card. he can't help but wonder what happened that made him want to leave the show choir he loved so much, and invested so much time and energy in. tired of fighting with julian and stella over solos? possible, but aidan never took him for someone who gave up that easily. maybe today would finally provide some answers, because there micah was, apparently contemplating whether or not to buy the ugliest blazer aidan had ever seen.
"wow, not even a hello? and here i was thinking that you missed me." the bitterness in micah's expression answers that question right away. still hates him, fair enough. at the comment about him shopping alone, aidan let's out an amused chuckle. "please, you know that shopping alone is one of my favorite activties. no opinions, no compromises, and most of all, no one trying to convince me that bowties are definitely making a comeback this season." his gaze drops to the oversized blazer in micah's hands. "though apparently, some people could really benefit from a second opinion when it comes to fashion." the jab slips out too easily; aidan just can't help himself. because micah wasn't the only person carrying around a bruised ego.
the other's hurt becomes even more obvious when the real accusation comes out. the cheerios, the generosity, someone who isn't me... "mhm? sounds like someone is still keeping tabs on me. how interesting." sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket, aidan tilts his head slightly. "not to mention a little pathetic, don't you think? i mean, it's not my fault your new friends like me better, pinky."
the edges of his ears turn red when aidan drops the nickname pinky. “you have a lot of nerve speaking to me like that, aidan. you’re the one who lost his mind when i met someone actually ready to commit,” he hisses, purposely running a hand over his short newly blonde hair. “and bow ties don’t need a comeback. they’re timeless.” you are stronger than a jawline. the mantra repeats in his head until the blush fades. “i’m allowed to be concerned about my fellow cheerios — they’re subjected to experiencing your full-fledged narcissistic personality disorder,” he insists, eyeing the other up and down.
“and not that it’s any of your business, this blazer is a gift for someone very special to me.” it’s somewhat of a flimsy lie, but it’s only fair micah gets to bite back after their falling out last semester. “and unfortunately for you, you’ll never know what it’ll feel like to be on the receiving end of that kind of love, attention, and most importantly, respect. grow up and stop self sabotaging yourself and maybe then you can judge me for moving on.”
a hockey rink was the last place on earth stella wanted to be that afternoon, but desperate times called for desperate measures. and the captain of the saint rivera ice hockey team starting a new directions recruitment effort she had not asked for? well, that was desperate!
so, she'd barged into their practice, finding it oh so easy to make her way down towards the ice. with her natural talent for projection, it also was not difficult for her to speak just loud enough to be heard over... whatever the hell was going on out there. and luckily, her actions had their desired impact.
"stella. but i am a star, so i understand your freudian slip," she allowed, offering her hand for a firm shake. "co-captain of the new directions, which i also assume you must know by now, given that you have joined my team."
while their introductions had seemed like they might be fruitful, carter's use of the word other before lame and his insistence on not learning more about mashups had stella's eyes narrowing in suspicion. "yes. space is at a premium for other campus organizations, and the people love a piano. as for a mashup, it's exactly what it sounds like - a song that combines two or more others. there is no other meaning."
but now that they'd established the basics... it was time to get back to her actual reason for being there - to pressure him into actually giving a shit.
"you will be signing up for space, correct?" she asked again, clearly not one to be deterred. "because i'm expecting you to take this as seriously as you do your own team's practice."
this has to be a goof, carter thinks to himself. “stella, i’ve never heard of people flighting over pianos and choir room space unless you count people glaring when someone sits in the wrong seat.” undoubtedly, he wasn’t playing close enough to truly notice. and in true carter nature, he hadn’t learned his lesson about challenging the diehard members of the new directions. refusing to accept his reality hadn’t worked thus far and was in fact making his life more difficult. but for now, the embarrassment of singing eight bars from a tired, old play takes precedent.
a whistle blowing in the near distance draws his attention away for a second. the drills are still paused without him and he holds up a finger with a small sigh. “to level with you,” he begins, making himself even smaller. “i have a lot of places to be on campus and the choir room isn’t really at the top.” it’s the very beginning of a long rejection. fortunately for stella, it starts off with feeding her what she wants to hear. “but since you were nice enough to somehow make your way in here, i’ll sign the sheet, cool? and when you guys win a real trophy, maybe you and julio can work yourselves up to a thank you, carter?” he intentionally leaves out hollow a promise to actually show up.
for some weird reason, the choir room always brought some sense of peace to luci, which is why, after a swim practice, when her mind was fully on this, this was the room she gravitated towards. running into another member was not something she planned to but it did happen frequently. so when she ran into carter she wasn't completely surprised. however at his question she frowned and pursed her lips
“ that's not only too on the nose it might even be boring. like we can do better ... like heaven and hell some lovely colour combo, costumes or neon that always sells really well as well. or like something simple like truth or shot or dares or something. the year is still young, so plenty of options are still open. ”
as expected, luciana delivers and carter doesn’t hesitate to type each idea into his phone for safekeeping. “i like heaven and hell but sounds a little too close to home right now.” he gestures to the choir room. it’s dramatic, but he doesn’t care. he’s too thankful for the distraction and the ideas. it does nothing but solidify luciana's already polished exterior. a part of him even considered asking for "help" with the glee assignments. of course, the help would be manifested into a desperate plea of please do this for me, but he was managing to fly under the radar for now. “i didn’t know you were into party planning too — how the hell do you even have time?”
she had only been passing by the choir room on her way to class when she spotted carter within it. they hadn't spoken much since the summer, and it didn't feel great to remember all the fun they had together that had recently been hidden deep in the closet like an ugly toy. but this could be her opportunity to get back in at least a conversation, right? watching carter try to lie his way through an interaction with another member of glee club, goldie walked in like she had always intended to be there and found her way to his side in seconds. "oh my goodness, carter! thank you so much for grabbing that sheet music for me. i can't believe i forgot it in here, such a blonde, ya know?" she gives him a look that says play along, before wrapping her arm around his own and tugging him towards the door and away from the person he clearly did not want to be talking to.
an angel who could only be named goldie tugs carter out the choir with a handful of arbitrary sheet music tucked under his arm. “what the hell pippin anyway? a song about the basketball legend?”it’s a genuine question that works in favor of their escape. he’s never been more grateful as they hurry down the hall and out of the dusty arts building. he doesn’t look back. “i owe you my life, goldie,” he huffs once they’re met with the cool fall air. the silence lingers between them and an apology sits on the tip of his tongue. he keeps her too close for a moment. “like, really owe you.” the summer spent together was admittedly a complete change of pace outside his tumultuous relationship with eugena. it’s something he would have considered keeping had he not been so easily influenced by his now again ex. “are we good? are you good?”
on paper, someone like savannah objectively looked like she didn't belong on a team like the cheerios. at first, she almost had been a little shocked she had made the team to begin with. despite having the skill to be a decent flyer, the blonde wasn't sure if she'd fit in amongst her other teammates. luckily, she did for the most part, micah being someone she'd became besties with.
practice had finished up for everyone and sav was ready to unwind for the rest of the day. "you killed it today," she exclaimed to her friend, wrapping her arm around her shoulder, her other free hand holding her beloved cheer bag. "please tell me you're not doing anything after because you're hanging out with me, alright?"
a small gust of wind leaves his chest at her compliment. “stop — you were saving my ass today from coach steele.” he boasts, leaning in to squeeze her arm gratefully. “someone seriously needs to confiscate the megaphone asap.”
as they turn the corner, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in a trophy case. cheerios, of course. “of course, sav — but i’m gonna need you to save my roots again, please,” he almost whines. “i don’t know why i’m so distracted lately. liar. his mind was reeling with all kinds of boy issues and show choir fomo and they had hardly put a dent in the new semester.
Muscle memory was a bitch. He almost stood up to take it, but he just leaned back in his chair, knocking a foot against the metal leg, tipping it back slightly. "It would be... something," August concurred, regarding Carter's eventual keg stand. When he brought up their mash-up duet, August was the one to clear his throat this time.
"Well, it's a song that's about you? Like, a power anthem?" He couldn't help but groan as the term power anthem left his mouth. New Directions was taking a toll on him. "I'd probably do something by The Cure." What a tortured boy! "Close to Me, maybe. I've always felt a little spiritually connected to it. Et tu, Carter?"
carter wasn’t sure which elephant to address first. “you mean, like, a hype song?” he finally lands on. “the cure really does it for you, man?” he digs out his phone and scrolls to his game day spotify playlist before landing on perhaps the most ironic song in his life. dj khaled. he pauses the song just as quick as he plays it. “you’re basically the expert at this point, will it mash well?”
August had been lingering towards the edge of the choir room for a full minute before Carter noticed him. His eyes lingered on the blender bottle, a slight thought of remembering before he decided to fling the reminiscence from his mind as quickly. He huffed out a short laugh when Carter talking about party themes of all things as he crossed the room, dropping himself into the nearest chair.
"Way too on the nose, man," he said. He didn't even know what that would entail; pencil floaties, maybe? "Might as well just slap name tags on everyone and call it orientation. It's giving me hives just thinking about it," he shuddered.
"What about a blackout? People always go crazy for those."
a stifled laugh clears from carter’s throat. he leans back over the piano to shake the bottle of protein paste. muscle memory kicks in and he holds out the shake towards the other. it hangs awkwardly between them for a moment too long before carter clears his throat. “anyway,” he sighs at his own embarrassment. “a blackout party would be cool too. my first keg stand in the dark? could be worth celebrating after winning this mashup assignment,” he continues thoughtfully. he throws a glance over his shoulder as if expecting another pair of eyes to catch them. “any ideas for that, by the way? apparently it’s just two songs you slap together.”
"oh. my. GOD. you? stop talking!" julian huffs, raising his hand at the jock as he storms into the choir room. as it turns out, the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach he could't shake off was there for a reason, and he was right to follow his intuition and check in on his kingdom. julian had caught him redhanded, committing not just the heinous crime of messing up the sheet music, but also defiling the piano with what looked like wet drywall trapped in a blender bottle. "so, despite all my efforts of explaining the sanctity of my choir room to you and your airheaded brethren in language even you should be able to understand, you still have no idea where you are." just when julian thought he had managed to get through to these neanderthals, by staging a 'chad intervention' to lay down the law, his patience is once being tested by the guy responsible for this invasion. he steps closer, sighing dramatically as his gaze sweeps across the disaster zone, his expression growing gradually more horrified as he inspects the damage, eyes landing on one of the folders. "you... you filed sondheim under b! genuinely, what the hell is wrong with you??"
it takes everything in him to not laugh in julian’s face. at a point this low, it’s really all he can do. that and find a different brand of contraception asap. “dude, every time you step in this place, you lose your mind a little bit more. are you sure this is a chill place for you to be? i think there’s a meditation room in the next building, but i’m pretty sure it’s closed for cleaning if you know what i mean,” he shudders. a long arm reaches across julian to grab the bottle, dripping condensation over the precious sondheim number. a smile sweeps across his face before carter can help it. “b is for broadway, buddy.” it’s a grossly uneducated guess stemming from his ex-girlfriend’s rants on the club. he glances down at the now warped sheet. “and it’s a mashup between me and whoever the hell johanna is.” he reaches again to wipe the fallen drops with his sleeve. he proudly nods to himself for figuring out the assignment that easily. too proud that he doesn’t notice the ring left behind on the piano. “hey, how come you don’t give out prizes for these assignments? or is it a glee thing to suck and lose, like, all the time?”
🎙️ ˚ ﹕ㅤㅤ it had been a damn busy month for everyone in saint rivera, how the world always felt like in such disarray with all the move-ins, reintroductions and syllabus week, and people desperately trying to make it to their next class without getting lost or having a mental breakdown. but of course, billy had always thrived in pandemonium, a talent honed for self-preservation in the soul-crushing la la land machine⸻ now live on air, voice wearing a more free-spirited persons than she really were, like everything was water off a duck's back, while the rest of the campus seemed to be dealing with whatever drama of the week.
and ever curious, as if everyone else was part of her study into the human condition, this show had always the best way to get all the campus gossip without being directly involved. " welcome to off the record, you're live. what've you got for us? " billy asked after tapping the caller into the live broadcast, tone light and underlined with the kind of inquisitiveness that could make the weak-willed bare their heart to her. " if you're here to complain about abrams house being haunted like so many other callers last week, the university maintains the position that it's just the pipes. "
then a chuckle, and she was sure that this wasn't about that at all, but it was a nice icebreaker anyway, something to set mood. because people were more likely to spill their secrets if they thought they could laugh and joke with you. " and no, they will not be responding to the current student petition to bring in zak bagans to check it out. so, c'mon, what other fun stuff d'you have for me? "
𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼: billy has a segment in her campus radio show where callers can anonymously vent, confess, ask for advice, or talk about whatever they want regarding their campus life. trolls and gossips welcome!
a few vocal warm ups does hardly anything to alter his voice. for a moment, micah wonders if he’s losing his touch. the thought flees when he remembers it’s probably the glee club still haunting him. his orders from coach steele were practically a part of his daily routine already, so hopping on the campus radio station to spread some harmless gossip came fairly easy. he clears his throat a final time and unmutes his phone.
“firstly, we all know it’s stella nasr haunting the dorms, okay? stay vigilant and do not engage. second, i bring you another psa about saint rivera’s new directions. rumor has it that they’re trying to siphon money from the cheerios budget. can you believe that? stealing money from a historical and successful team that has worked so hard to get where we — they are, and yet our — their success is being slashed by harpies with a showtune in their heart!” he rambles in a dramatic tone. admittedly, he has to take a deep breath and confess to himself that his rant was spinning into something borderline obsessive. “i think it’s time to show some compassion and support the new directions as they call it quits before they start living in tune with their delusions.”
"i broke up with carter." it wasn't the first time, not even the second or third time, but somehow this break up felt different. his betrayal of joining the glee club without as much as giving her a heads up about it was unforgivable to eugena. he couldn't even properly explain his reasoning for his actions, but then again, what could possibily justify this social suicide? sure, glee club was trending right now, but people were bound to remember just how lame it actually is soon enough, not even the captain of the hockey team could change that for the long run. "for real this time," she assures, managing to keep her composure, even though she was seething on the inside. frankly, she was feeling concerned about what kind of effect the rising popularity of the glee club could have on her friend. would he want to return? truth be told, she had only poached micah last year to mess with the new directions, mainly to piss off stella, but surprisingly enough, the two had actually become close friends these past few months. "if carter wants to go down in history as the guy who had it all, and threw it away so he could sway in the background behind stella and her tony award reject, it's his funeral," she shrugs. "i'm just not going to allow him to drag me down with him." ( @loserspng )
something short of an almost laugh leaves micah’s chest when his friend declares another break up. the familiar pattern starts all the same and he nods and awes until his jaw drops in quiet surprise. “you actually broke up with him for joining glee? for good?” he repeats. knowing the disdain his friend has for the new directions, the reasoning for a break up doesn’t come as a shock. but micah is surprised about how serious she seems about it. it doesn't take long for his mind to wander back to his once favorite extracurricular. it’s still a total mystery as to how and why the captain of the hockey team willingly joined such an eclectic group. and clearly the group wasn’t the same as it used to be. “are you sure he actually joined and it’s not just some low brow prank?” he stretches his legs to sprawl out on the riser in the cheerios private gym — an unspoken perk of being on a winning team that’s free from aidan shaped distractions. “or maybe it’s a desperate call for help,” he says thoughtfully as he leans back. “not that you deserve to be dragged down to the depths, but it is kinda sweet that you get to keep repeating your honeymoon phase.”
intermission. god's apology for all that is wrong with the world, also known as milo's sacred space. he was often found roaming the aisles past midnight, as if he were a ghost that was trapped within the store. especially since he looked extremely ghastly beneath the fluorescent lighting. each week, he had money set aside to restock on snacks, drinks and the odd trinket perched by the cash register. he'd made a decent display over the years and displays it with pride. his favorite being the miniature rubber ducky in saint rivera's colors, to the extent that each teammate of the titans received one.
currently, he was balancing several bags of chips atop a case with glacier freeze gatorade which the store clerk set aside for him each week. rapport matters! he hadn't the common sense to set the contents down whilst pouring out a slushy... a #CLOWN, and karma for trying the new flavors out with a cupped hand out beneath the nozzle. inevitably, the chips go each and every way with the case of gatorades splitting and rolling out into the aisle. “ CRAP! my gatorade... ” his yell falls quiet with his mourning, shoulders dropping in defeat and lips falling on a pout.
his luck only gets worse with his slushy falling from the tilt and splashing across his favorite pair of joggers, staining them with red 40 and blue 1. “ oh, come on! ” an irritated groan, followed with a muttered, “ you're such an idiot, milo, ” as he smears the slushy contents into the joggers until they become a shade of saturated violet. admittedly, he was neither the brightest nor wisest, with little regard for the mess he'd created in a mere matter of seconds or the innocent bystanders on a late night snack run. after a loss of dignity and many paper towels later, he finds himself crouched against the slushy machine gathering the remaining chunks of slush. he notices a foreign shadow beside him, shoes soon coming into sight. “ just a second, nearly done here. then this stupid thing is all yours! ” a hand raised out to them, half apologetic, half annoyed, 100% embarrassed.
setting: intermission, the beloved convenience store that seems to become a major inconvenience for milo. your muse witnesses the aftermath of his destruction and deals with a slightly irritable milo.
the fluorescent lights flicker in time with the sad sound of snack after snack hitting the ground. it’s almost poetic and for a moment, carter wonders if that’s what the new directions are always harping about. before carter can crunch on the next dorito staining his fingers, a now sticky bottle of gatorade rolls to his feet. of course he can’t just ignore milo’s predicament. it’s milo. so he perches the unpaid bag of tortilla chips on the shelf to pick up the bottles that got away.
“could this be divine punishment for picking a mid flavor of gatorade?” he asks in a teasing tone as he lines up the bottles. he then reaches over to grab a handful of paper towels to mop up what’s left on the counter. granted, he’s spreading the chunks of dyed sugar water around and around, but it feels strange to let milo be the only one cleaning. “good news, you’re totally not the first guy to wear a slushy. bad news, i think you’re the first to actually drink them.” after tossing the used paper towels away, he picks up what’s left of the case of gatorade when he catches the purple stain on his joggers. “oh, and that, i guess,” he adds with a fallen face. “i’m sure someone is, like, super knowledgeable about dealing with slushy stains.” he’s actually more than sure, but he doesn’t speak on it as an attempt to keep the universe balanced. who’s to say he wouldn’t be the one dripping in red dye soon? carter tilts his head as he stares down at the stain. he holds up the remnants of the case of drinks and positions it in front of milo’s lower half until it’s mostly hidden. it’s a lame attempt to brush off whatever embarrassment may be left. “dude, what stain?”
( closed starter for @hcngover )
the doors of rose’s turn jingle open and shut, wafting in the cool fall air. micah strolls down the aisle of earthtones before settling on a blazer that’s two sizes too big. he picks up the heavy fabric just as a life altering voice lands in his ear. he clutches the blazer a little to a little tightly and the hanger groans under the pressure. micah sneers his name low enough for only him to hear. aidan. a name that haunted him then and, unfortunately, now. before he even realizes it, he’s storming over to confront him. “shopping alone? should be good practice for later,” micah greets with narrowed eyes. he pauses for a moment to appreciate his inner genie slipping out. he also takes a moment too long to appreciate the other male’s ridiculous jawline and his resolve thaws for a millisecond. “just saying maybe you could give the cheerios a break from your generosity that you suddenly dish out to someone who isn’t me,” he continues in another breath. the words make his face naturally twist into something bitter and awful as his self-preservation kicks back in. he was determined to keep all the work he had done over the summer from undoing itself. “you should leave before one of your flavors of the week catches up with the next.”
as co-captain of the new directions and someone still living in shame from last year's disastrous competition season, stella firmly believed that it was her duty to ensure that each and every new directions member was taking things seriously. not just in their group rehearsals, but outside of them too.
which was why she'd taken to cornering new directioners in public settings, appearing seemingly out of thin air beside them in a way that might terrify those with a weaker constitution. luckily, her voice alerted people to her presence soon after. that day's opening line? "hope you're excited about this week's show choir assignment," words she delivered with an only vaguely threatening smile.
"randomized pairing mashups - how fun! i recommend booking the choir room for your rehearsals sooner, rather than later, before it's monopolized by other - lesser and non-performance related - activities."
somehow, someway, carter recognizes the distinct sound cutting through the noise of the rink. granted the voice sits way below his field of vision, but that’s not at all surprising. what is surprising is that the voice had managed to sneak into a closed hockey practice. his suspicions are correct when he turns around and locks eyes with the familiar brunette who suddenly appeared in a row of seats. “hey, stacy — sorry, starla,” he chuckles once before yanking off his glove. “i don’t think we’ve officially met.” he stretches his hand out with a stupid, stupid grin on his face. “carter cortez, team captain of the titans,” he recites in an overly polished tone. he leans against his hockey stick and shrinks himself the tiniest bit to lower his voice. “do other students really use the choir room for other lame things? or is a mashup code for something else? is there a fun sign up sheet i don’t know about?” he blinks as if he really needs to be handed another responsibility to keep up with. “you know what — don’t tell me. the less i know about mashups, the better.”
the blender bottle filled with the world’s powderiest protein shake is slammed on the piano in the choir room. a piece of sheet music gets caught in the breeze and carter sees it as a sign from the gleek gods to flee. and honestly, he’d lost count of how many times he had been lectured about rearranging the sheet music. what was one last time? it’s not like he would really have to put his best foot forward for this mashup anyway—he was only required to be present. or so he thought. he’d have to look into what exactly a mashup even was. it takes him a minute too long to unceremoniously stuff the sheets into place before he turns to run off. “oh,” he gasps when a familiar face catches him in the act. a seemingly innocent smile creeps across his face while he runs through a list of excuses in his head. once he lands on something, he deliberately steps aside to block the piano. being caught in the choir room was embarrassing enough. “dude, i was just about to come and find you—do you have any advice about party themes? is back to school too on the nose?”
(﹙˓ 🎧 ˒﹚) whoa, did you just hear that voice? it’s so recognizable that i have no doubt it’s micah de leon. i don’t really know much about them, but i heard they’re a twenty two year old area of musical theatre in their third year of study. people say that they’re extroverted and enthusiastic, but rumor has it that they’re actually controlling and sensitive, so i guess we’ll never know the truth unless you live with them in berry house. if you ask me, i think i’d describe them as the perfectionist, but their spotify wrapped should say more about them, in which get well soon by ariana grande, lovebomb by the neighbourhood, and being alive by stephen sondheim are amongst their most played. but whatever, i wish them luck on their endeavors in the cheerios, student body government, and wellness club. i don’t know how they have time for all of that, but i can’t wait to see how this new school year treats them! ( evan mock, cismale and he / him, homosexual ) 𝄞ˎˊ˗
🎤︎︎ ... 𝒃𝒊𝒐
born and raised in the east hampton area in long island, ny to two successful moms. combined, they have over fifty years in tv, film, theatre and eventually built their own production company from the ground up. the early and constant exposure to media and how it’s brought to life leads micah to his undying love for the arts. amongst three other siblings, he fought for the limelight every single day. as the youngest and most talented, he found it fairly easy; however, the world would be a harsher critic.
as much praise as he would get from his moms and their inner circle, he knew he would have to face the real noise. he insists on his parents not using their influence and manages to book a few community plays in high school. truthfully, he felt the struggle of booking a big role on his own merit would be useful for future roles. but even with every resource, coach, and lesson to help him succeed, he still found himself striving for a more traditional path and wanted to perfect his craft from every angle. after several spreadsheets, he lands on saint rivera university and applies.
it’s an easy yes to join new directions during his freshman year. he learns that there’s certainly bigger fish in the sea, but it doesn’t deter him from insisting he receive a solo above anyone else. it’s an adjustment at first, but he finds a way to pick his battles. although great for his repertoire, but devastating to him, he makes the decision to abandon new directions and join the cheerios instead. it’s a decision made under heightened and man related emotions, but he tells people his intuition further protected him when the club made a sharp turn into loserville.
🎤︎︎ ... 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒔
name: micah de leon
age: twenty two
birthdate: november 20
astrological sign: scorpio
pronouns: he / him
hometown: east hampton, ny
sexuality: homosexual
orientation: homoromantic
alignment: chaotic good
relationship status: single n celibate
🎤︎︎ ... 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒂 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒚
major: musical theatre
year: third year
extracurriculars: cheerios!, student body government, and wellness club
housing: berry house
🎤︎︎ ... 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒆
height: 5’ 9”
eyes: brown
hair: blonde buzzcut
scars: none
build: lean and athletic
face: serving
tattoos: none
🎤︎︎ ... 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔
positive: expressive. protective. visionary. amiable.
negative: dramatic. controlling. reactive. overzealous.
likes: performing, cats, playbills, people who can freely express their feelings, pda, duets
dislikes: know it alls, attention seekers ( that’s his job ), driving, duets
🎤︎︎ ... 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔
✦ taken by : name
recent ex. open to masc. they would have dated from the end of last semester and then throughout the end of summer. micah is looking for someone to fully commit and he thought this would be the one. we can decide if they’re on good terms or not!
✦ taken by : name
best friend. open to any. someone to talk him off the ledge while keeping him humble.