{ MADDISON JAIZANI, 21, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER } Is that PARISA DAVANI? A JUNIOR originally from HILLSBOROUGH, CALIFORNIA, they decided to come to Ogden College to study FASHION DESIGN. They’re THE NEPO BABY on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance.
BASIC STATS
Full Name: Parisa Diana Conwyn-Davani
Nicknames: Risa (close friends only)
Date of Birth: September 5th, 2000
Place of Birth: Boston, Massachusetts
Hometown: Hillsborough, California
Nationality: American (by birth), British (by descent)
Ethnicity: English, Iranian (Persian)
Languages: English (native proficiency), French (full proficiency), Spanish (some proficiency), Farsi (basic proficiency)
Religion: Shia Muslim
Western Zodiac: ☼ Virgo | ☽ Sagittarius | ↑ Libra
Sexuality: Bisexual
Relationship Status: Single
Education: Bachelor of Fine Arts in Fashion Design, Minor in Marketing at Ogden College (2019 - present)
PERSONALITY
Positive Traits: alluring, benevolent, adaptable
Negative Traits: aloof, entitled, manipulative
Moral Alignment: True Neutral
Myers-Briggs: ENTJ - The Protagonist
Hogwarts House: Gryffindor
Enneagram: Type 7 - The Enthusiast
ADDITIONAL TROPES:
Broken Ace | The High Queen | The Beautiful Elite | The Fashionista | Drama Queen | Sugar and Ice Personality
FICTIONAL CHARACTER INSPO
Isabela Madrigal (Encanto), Amy March (Little Women), Tahani Al-Jamil (The Good Place), Fleur Delacour (Harry Potter), Claire Standish (The Breakfast Club), Sansa Stark (Game of Thrones), Lavinia Dickinson (Dickinson)
DOSSIER
School Year: Junior
Major: Fashion Design
Minor: Marketing
Sports: Sailing, Equestrian
Extracurriculars: Fashion@Ogden, Undergraduate Student Council
BACKGROUND
The daughter of a British noblewoman, and an Iranian-American businessman turned tech entrepreneur. Born in Boston, moved to Hillsborough, California as a child when her father founded his software company that eventually became one of the industry leaders.
Parisa’s mother settled into the life of a socialite and housewife, raising Parisa and eventually her brother Reza when he came along. The Conwyn-Davani children grew up with everything they could ever want, and had those privileges both at their stateside home and when they visited their maternal relatives at their estate in the United Kingdom.
Went to private school in California up until ninth grade, where she attended Benenden School in England for the rest of her secondary school career. Her rank as the granddaughter of an earl definitely helped her with connections, and even got her a job in Paris during her gap year before college, working at a luxury fashion house in the city.
Came back to the US to attend her mother’s alma mater because nepotism gets you far. She didn’t have the grades to get in on her own merit, but her mother’s reputation plus a hefty donation the year before her admission sealed Parisa’s spot. Everyone knows her, or so they think. Rumors have slowly been getting to her over the past two years, but she pretends that they don’t faze her.
Studies fashion design, which she has the luxury of focusing on because she knows if it somehow fails, she’ll still have options. Chose a marketing minor for this reason, as fashion marketing is a good industry, and if fashion fails all together? Well, she can become the CMO of her father’s company, right?
Keeps her social circle small, since she doesn’t know everyone’s true intentions when it comes to connecting with her. The computer science major who hoped for an interview at her father’s company, the anglophile with an interest in British nobility, or those who think that there’s something Parisa’s money and fame could do for them.
Lived with Greer Morrison and they had a pretty good roommate relationship, up until Greer disappears. Like everyone else, she’s confused and stunned about it all.
MISCELLANEOUS
Even though her legal last name is Conwyn-Davani, a combination of her parents’ last names, Parisa usually goes by Davani for the sake of simplicity and sounding just a little less pretentious
Her father is a devout Muslim, while her mother was raised Protestant and converted to Islam upon their marriage. Parisa is a practicing Muslim, but considers herself more liberal in her faith. She does not consume alcohol, have tattoos, and only eats halal foods. But she has no qualms about wearing tight clothes once in a while or dating outside of her faith.
Leaning towards specializing in special occasion/evening wear, and incorporates little details of her own Iranian culture into her gown designs. Wants to have her own bridal line one day.
Took up cake decorating as a hobby. Will do a cute one for your birthday if she tolerates you enough.
Believes in NorCal supremacy, sorry SoCal people (but will deny it if anyone found out she’s not even from California to begin with)
Her parents are still genuinely in love, twenty five years later. In spite of the healthy example she has, Parisa says she’s allergic to romance - but that’s a lie. She reads romance novels and swoons over them.
Sometimes she’s “looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you”, but other times she’s “looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll”
he furrows his brows when she threw his words from the other night back at him. he was going to bite back, to let her know that he certainly didn’t care at all, talk about how she was losing her edge around him, tease her about it — but then the word complication was thrown in the mix, admitting that she was, in fact, avoiding them. “ — what’s complicated ? you come over, we either argue or fuck, or sometimes both. does that sound complicated to you ? ” to a regular person who’s a little healthier mentally, sure, that was as complicated as it got. but link was starting to get used to it, and he didn’t wanna end it any time soon. “ yeah, i’ve noticed… did someone put something in your drink, parisa ? who did you talk to ? the football team isn’t exactly sounding like safe to me… ” he murmurs the last bit to himself, getting closer and wrapping his hand around the hand that she had gripping the cup, bringing it closer to him to peak into, as though he would be able to see if the drink was spiked. he releases her hand, looking back to her again. “ just thought it was a little weird for a girl who doesn’t drink. i’m not totally heartless, davani. ”
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Pouting as Link recalled their usual routine, Parisa’s eyes drifted to the side where her new friends for the night were laughing with each other and smiling at her. Giving them a flirtatious wave before turning her attention back to the photographer, the girl let out a sigh. “Exactly, that’s all we do. But it’s more complicated than that. I ran into Ollie and we had a conversation that I wasn’t a fan of,” she admitted, omitting the context of her run-in with the other person who frequented Link’s bed. She was taking her own advice - taking her issues up with Link directly. “Maybe it’s best I just, I don’t know, remove myself from the situation. We can both keep doing what we want to do.” He wasn’t her boyfriend and probably wouldn’t have wanted the title if it was offered to them.
Eyes narrowed as Link grabbed her hand to look into her cup, with Parisa glaring up at him. “I said I’m fine, Link. It was an accident, I picked up the wrong cup. There’s nothing nefarious going on.” Perhaps his intentions were pure, but Parisa was still on edge around them after she spent the past few days faking sick as a means of avoidance. “I appreciate your concern, though. But it’s alright, just an unfortunate accident. Nothing besides a bit of alcohol, I think. I... I hope you’re having a good night.” Just because she suggested that they end things didn’t mean that she loathed Link - at least not as much as she once did.
He offered her a courtesy chuckle at her bit about being a time traveler, but raised an eyebrow at the bit about not drinking. He wasn’t sure why, there were plenty of reasons for someone to choose not to partake, but it seemed almost like finding a unicorn of sorts on a college campus. “I’m sure alcohol takes very little offense.” He teased as he took her cup from her and proceeded to take a sniff. Almost immediately cluing in on the issue at hand. He almost second guessed himself considering what she’d just told him, but if she really meant what she said about it he let himself be curious and actually took a sip.
As he did so he’d paused in telling her his findings, letting himself admire the way she went on to invite him to spend time with her. For a long moment he just nodded, as if he really needed to think about it at all before finally speaking up. “Yeah no um. Some company actually sounds nice. Suppose I’ve had enough of my alone time for the evening.” Which wasn’t entirely true, but he did believe that time with someone else would be a nice distraction from he had to inevitably do later. “You know.. I feel like it’d be an awful waste for such an artist to offer to show me their work and to not accept.” He offered, the smile on his face growing as he made a move towards the paint. “Although I’ll admit it’ll be interesting to see how it turns out because there is nothing virgin about what’s been in your cup tonight love.”
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“That’s not possible, I poured it myself. I kept it in my hand except...” Parisa trailed off, remembering when she answered a text and put her cup down for a few minutes. “Okay, I guess I ingested some alcohol then. Nothing I could do about it now.” It’s not like her father was going to find out, right? “I feel fine for the most part, just a little unsteady. I’ll be okay,” she assured him, not wanting Carew to feel obligated to look out for her. While she looked out for her friends when they drank, Parisa hadn’t known him long enough to consider him as such, but perhaps that may change. “Either way, I’m happy to provide a reprieve from your alone time. Let’s go do some artwork.” The pair made their way to the more crowded area of the natatorium, and whether it was the alcohol in her system or Parisa simply feeling creative, she was quite excited to paint on someone - and to keep getting to know Carew.
Her motor skills were a bit shaky, but Parisa nonetheless steadied her dominant hand as much as possible. “Ready to be the canvas?” she asked, stooping down to dip the brush into the body paint before pausing, thinking about what and where on him she wanted to do her artwork on. Brown eyes focusing more than she needed to for something that was merely fun, Parisa began a vine design on Carew’s bicep, looking up at him in between. “If you hate it, I can do something else. And of course, I’ll let you do something on me too if you’d like. What kind of art are you usually into?”
Hearing Parisa predict what her morning would look like, Kit cooed sympathetically. That did not sound fun. The hand on her back stopped its stroking motion to pat behind her shoulder. It was kind of insane that everyone was partying like this on a Tuesday night but it wasn’t like they were given a choice on whether or not they wanted to attend. “For sure,” he agreed confidently with a nod of his head, not considering what state he would be in tomorrow. Did drugs give you hangovers? Kit didn’t exactly ask Monty what the bad side effects were. Oh well, he supposed he’d find out tomorrow.
Listen, it wasn’t like Dean Zuko was an unattractive guy. But okay, Kit was off the mark. Who did she want then? If we had a chance, I’d choose you. Oh. Kit blinked. His brows pulled upwards as heat rushed to his cheeks. He watched Parisa near him, gulping quietly as the distance between them grew even smaller. This close, he couldn’t help but pay attention to all of the delicate details of her face. The warm brown of her eyes, the layer of shimmer on her lips. (Whoa bro, why are you looking at her lips?) He slid his gaze upward, settling on her stare just in time to hear her tell him that she’d rather have something happen between them in secret than for nothing to happen between them and for the school to think something did.
Warmth flooded him at her confession, his mouth dropping open ever slightly. Well, who saw that coming? Not Kit, that was for sure. The revelation stunned him, leaving him frozen with his breath halted in his lungs. Sense only returned to Kit when Parisa reacted bashfully to her own confession, fingers shielding her features from him and breaking their stare. It was then that a hefty exhale left Kit and his gaze fell to the tiled floor of the natatorium, trying to make sense of what just happened. He still felt dazed when Parisa’s voice drew in his attention again. Don’t look at me. He should say something, right? But was there even anything to say to something like this? He’d try anyway.
“Hey, it’s… it’s okay,” he assured. That felt like a good place to start. He didn’t want Parisa to feel bad. Or embarrassed. Kit reached forward and gently guided one of her hands away from her face, bringing it down between them and holding it. She was drunk, right? People said dumb stuff when they were drunk. “I’m… like…” He started, unsure where he was going with this now that he’d begun to say something. “…honored, I guess?” That was… the weirdest word choice he could have gone with. Then again would Not-High-Kit do any better? It wasn’t like this was a common situation people created dialogue for. The fact that words were leaving his mouth to begin with was impressive. He wasn’t sure Not-High-Kit would be capable of this much.
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I hope you’re satisfied, you fucking bitch. Swear words were silently spoken towards -G in Parisa’s mind, wondering what was going through Kit’s mind. Was he entertaining the idea, and if so, in what way - as a one night stand, or as something more? Was it something worth ruining the friendship over? She was willing the ground to swallow her whole, glancing over at Kit through the space in between her fingers to see if he was even still there. The silence was deafening, and Parisa had never been in this situation with him before.
But instead of leaving, Kit removed one of her hands from her face, while Parisa kept the other one firmly planted - as though the blush was only evident on one cheek. “I’m just gonna... fling myself in the pool face-first until I forget this happened,” she decided flatly as she moved to get up, realizing that Kit was holding onto the hand that he had guided away from her. As much as her mind told her to leave, she couldn’t bring herself to do that just yet. This was probably the weirdest proposition for sex that Kit had ever gotten, and she couldn’t blame him if he found an excuse to bail. He was honored? Well, that was more of a relief than what he was within his right to say at that time. Leaning in more, the girl finally removed her other hand from her face and unconsciously placed it on top of Kit’s hand currently holding the one he had gently removed from her face. “You could reject me if you want to, I wouldn’t hold it against you.” Of course it’d hurt, but at the end of the day she wanted to keep him as a friend. She’d get over any feelings she had eventually, wouldn’t she?
“I just...” Parisa’s voice trailed off, her nose almost touching Kit’s. “Hi.” The greeting came out as a whisper, unable to say anything else or pull away. As much as she knew it would be a bad idea, she didn’t want to leave this moment as yet. Not when Kit’s presence made her forget that they were in a middle of a party; all her eyes focused on was his face, mostly his lips. “I don’t know what to say, other than I adore you absolutely. It’s all that I can say right now.”
“If I cared about covering up, reckon I wouldn’t have gone ahead with the skinny dipping,” Nate said, shrugging his shoulders, like it had been his idea - a joke he had thought up and not one that was dangled over his head. Regardless, he reached for the towel Parisa was holding out, using one hand to dry off his hair before wrapping it, low slung, around his hips. “You don’t need to look so embarrassed by it,” he pointed out, even as he very likely accidentally gave her another peek while securing the towel around himself, glancing back up towards her flushed face.
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“Right, yeah. It’s an unusual way to start this party,” Parisa replied, biting her lower lip. Was anything about that night not unusual? “I’m not embarrassed,” the brunette maintained, the brunette willing her eyes to drift back to him but catching yet another glimpse and the blush remained on her cheeks. She’d seen him naked before, but she didn’t expect that the whole student body would’ve witnessed Nate in his birthday suit. “You’re good-looking. I don’t think you need any reassurance there. I just didn’t expect to see all of that, right now, is all.” Sure, they had slept together once before, but there wasn’t this much talk about Nate’s body and Parisa willed herself to stop before it got weirder. “Glad you’re... enjoying yourself, I guess?”
“Uhm,” Sam said, giving a grimace at the question before turning her head and looking around the party. Here was the thing, she hadn’t actually decided who she was going to send the message to. A bridge she thought she’d cross once she got there, but she supposed if she had a general idea of what she was sending she should cross the bridge. So there was the question. Who should she send it to? Someone she knew well and was comfortable with, and could just say someone at the party had given her some silly little dare or something? Like Sassa, or Mitch, or Booker maybe? No, she didn’t think she’d be able to look them in the face. Ollie, weird. Monty, weird. Link, weird. Jacqui… very possible, but she liked Jacqui and what if it got weird? Sending a message to Parisa and saying it was practice was pretty possible as well. Then there were the nice people she’d just met more recently like… Kit? No, he was nice, but in a way that she thought he might be really awkward afterwards. It had to be someone nice, but chill. “Oh! Him!” Sam said, pointing out the tall blonde curly haired figure of Coco in the crowd. Okay, she had literally just met him, but he seemed very nice, and chill. Great. “Yeah, it’s Court. He’s very cute, right?”
Sam listened to Parisa’s complicated relationship issue, nodding her head a little and giving a small frown. “Well, you don’t deserve to be treated like that either,” she pointed out. “You are so amazing. You’re the type of woman who deserves someone who will commit to you, and come over here and tell you that whatever happened they’re sorry, and they don’t want to fight anymore and will try to make up to you.” Naïve maybe, but it was how Sam saw it, but she’d also never been in a relationship before either. People and relationships were hardly like they were in books.
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Parisa followed Sam’s eyes as they glanced around the room, trying to find out who her secret crush was. Hopefully not Kit or Link - though if it was Kit, Parisa could at least compliment the younger girl on her taste. Link on the other hand? She wouldn’t say anything to Sam, but for the freshman’s sake Parisa hoped it wasn’t the case. “Court? He’s my sailing teammate actually. I could put in a good word at practice, if the voicemail plan doesn’t work out,” Parisa offered. Lara’s experience with the blond wasn’t the best, but that didn’t mean that Sam’s wouldn’t be something for the books.
“You’re right,” Parisa agreed confidently, it wasn’t as though she didn’t know that she deserved better than what she was getting from Link at the moment. But was she giving him what he needed as well? Perhaps it was a mutually destructive arrangement they had made. “You’re a freshman, right? How are you liking Ogden so far? I know this whole thing...” Parisa drawled, motioning to their schoolmates celebrating Greer’s birthday. “Was probably not part of the plan when you signed up.”
Feeling Parisa’s head touch his shoulder, Kit snaked an arm around her and laid his hand on her back, rubbing slow circles against her skin in hopes that she’d feel better. “Parties are kind of tiring,” he agreed with a bob of his head. People were on their feet most of the time. There was a lot of walking. Dancing too if that was your jam. Plus, there was a pool. So even more physical activity if you decided to jump in there. Kit hasn’t yet but there was still time. His body has been running warm since he took ingested that pill. So maybe a dip at one point would do him good.
Wanting someone you can’t have? Or someone you shouldn’t? So the whole forbidden type thing. Kit got that, sort of. But he couldn’t for the life of him think of anyone Parisa might have felt that way about. His drug-addled mind got creative. “Are you trying to tell me you want to hook up with Dean Zuko or something? Like no judgment but I think he’s married, dude.” He looked around, wondering if Mari was anywhere close by, before letting his eyes settle on Parisa again. A slight concern was evident on his face.
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Calming and reassuring, the movement of Kit’s hand on Parisa’s back kept her grounded. “I’m going to be miserable in the morning. I have to do needlework for class, I’ll probably end up sticking myself with it more than the fabric,” she groaned, turning to look at her friend. “Will you return the favor from homecoming and get me an iced vanilla latte tomorrow if I can’t leave my bed?” she pleaded, her eyes attempting to convey that forlorn puppy look.
Making a face and a gagging noise, Parisa shook her head. “What is it with people at this school and thinking parents are hot?” She wished she could forget Nate Shaw asking if her mother was hot in the group chat. “But no, I like people within my age group, thank you very much.” Now or never, Parisa. “If we had a chance, I’d choose you. Half of the school believes that something happened between us already. But...” Their faces mere inches from each other, Parisa leaned in as she whispered. “I’d much rather sleep with you in secret and have no one know, than have everyone else think we did it when we didn’t.” And there it was. Parisa hoped that G was satisfied enough now that she’d crossed boundaries and possibly made Kit uncomfortable. Was it worth keeping her own secrets?
“I’m sorry, that was... completely out of line for me to say. Can we, I don’t know, forget I said it? I’m really never drinking again,” she groaned, bringing her hands to her face and looking at Kit through her fingers. She wondered how convincing of a liar she was, because as much as she was implying that she didn’t mean it? She had never been more honest with him. “Don’t look at me,” she pleaded with a nervous laugh, blood rushing to her cheeks as she tried to figure out how to get out of this situation.
Location: The Pool Party
Time: Early in the night
Who: @parisadavani
Milo leaned against the brick wall behind him, plastic cup with a beer in it clutched in his hand as he watched people screw around in the pool bouncing a volleyball between them. Something close to amusement in his eyes. It was early enough in the night that he’d decided to pace himself when it came to the drinking, and the … terrible attitude. There was so much that was bound to happen he had to save some of it for later, right? “You look nice, Davani,” Milo said politely when he spotted Parisa wandering by. His eyes moved towards the group in the pool, then back towards Parisa, nodding towards the group that seemed to be attempting to find people to start a game of volleyball with. “Are you much of a player?” She didn’t strike him as much of an athlete.
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Parisa wasn’t sure why she was even there. Well, she knew why, but it didn’t make her regret going to a party on a school night any less. Turning as she heard the familiar voice, a smile graced the brunette’s face. “Why thank you, Navarro. You look quite handsome yourself.” Credit where credit was due, even if they had a volatile relationship fore the most part. “Not really. My athletic endeavors tend to be done on horses or boats,” Parisa responded to the man unapologetically. She didn’t care if he judged her, in fact she quite expected it. “Why, thinking of going in and joining them? Don’t let me stop you if you are, I’m perfectly content as a spectator. Maybe I’ll cheer for your team, who knows?”
“Oh!” Sam perked up as Parisa helped give her ideas on what she should maybe say. “That’s very good! I don’t think I can use the clothes idea, that definitely seems more like your thing. But maybe I could still figure out some kind of excuse to get them to come over…” She said, lifting her hand and rubbing her face in thought. A small hum coming from her chest as she considered. “Maybe I can say I have some sort of verbal presentation of a romantic scene I’m writing, and I’d like to practice, and maybe they can come over and give me tips!” That seemed like something that wouldn’t be too strange coming from her, but also in line with the suggestions Parisa was giving her. Sam gave Parisa a sympathetic smile, laughing a little bit, “oh no,” she said, reaching over and patting her hand. That sounded super embarrassing, and Sam would simply die. “I hope that the other person wasn’t a jerk about it, at least. That sounds like a complicated situation to be in,” she said sounding a little sheepish at the thought. She was not judging though, college was for casual relationships, right?
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“See? You’re catching on. Make it personal, don’t make it seem like you just read something online and repeated it to them. You can also say that you’re down for them to play the role of the person you’re writing about, and staying in character for as long as they’d like. Or as long as you want them to.” She didn’t know what Sam’s preference was, being the one in the control or the one taking orders, but either way she was sure she set her up for success. “Is your person at the party tonight? Show me,” she pleaded excitedly. Anything to distract herself from talking to the object of her interest, and the ticking clock that G had hanging over Parisa’s head.
“They weren’t very thrilled. But it’s okay, the guy I was seeing? I blew him off all week, told him I was too sick to hang out. I think he just saw me here, very much not sick. It’s what he deserves.” Did Link deserve such a petty reaction, seeing as Ollie’s words were the ones that hurt Parisa? Ollie was the one saying them, but it didn’t make them any less true in her mind and Link was the one she wanted to distance herself from. “Don’t let anyone treat you like that, you’re too good for them if they do.” Perhaps the person who had never been in a relationship shouldn’t be imparting such advice, but Parisa was already on a roll.
closed starter for @laracruzs
when: tuesday, october 25; early-to-middle of the night
where: pool party
“She doesn’t want to see you now. Or at all. And frankly, neither do I. Au revoir, Zachary.” Pulling Lara away from the jock, Parisa didn’t leave her best friend’s side until she was sure he was no longer around. “Honest opinion? You let him off too easy there.” Perhaps a subjective opinion, seeing as Parisa thought Lara deserved the world and nothing less than someone treating her like a queen. Zach had fallen short too many times for her liking. “What happened? Tell me everything.”
“Aww, I like you too, P. You’re super cool.” Kit booped on her on the nose with the tip of his finger. Side note: boop? The most adorable word ever. Whoever came up with that one deserved a really good sandwich. Catching what Parisa said about needing to sit down a bit, Kit frowned a little. “You okay?” He felt her touch on his hand and returned it, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. “But yeah, let’s go back. We can go back if that’s what you want.” Being on the ‘dance floor’ alone was pretty intimidating, and Kit would rather be with Parisa anyway. He led them back to the bleachers, zigzagging through the crowd with Parisa’s hand in his, looking over his shoulder intermittently to make sure she was alright as she trailed along.
“What’s going on with ya? You good?” Kit asked once they were seated, back to where they once were sooner than expected. “Is your mouth feeling a little dry? Because my mouth has been feeling dry here and there, and I’ve been drinking a lot of Gatorade to help with it.”
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You’re super cool followed by a boop of her nose. Wasn’t the response Parisa was hoping for, but she appreciated nonetheless. Perhaps this was Kit’s way of telling her that he only saw her as a friend and nothing more. If only she could respect that, but if she did then G would never let her live it down. Not unless she told Kit that all too damning truth in plain words - she hoped that he could forgive her and forget she ever said anything. Holding onto his hands as he led her back to the bleachers, Parisa exhaled in relief as they found their way back to where they once were. “I’m fine, just a bit tired,” she assured her friend as they sat, leaning her head on his shoulder for support. “I’ve been drinking water and soda - non-spiked. Haven’t put my cup down unattended since earlier tonight.” She had learned her lesson even if no foul play had been involved.
"I was spending time with Dulce earlier, after her, uh, story time,” Parisa explained, biting her lower lip as she looked away from Kit momentarily. Not that she was thrilled her friend was going through something, but at least it gave her a segue into her confession. “I don’t know if I’d ever have the courage to get up there and announce who I slept with at this party. Or who I would want to sleep with - I think that list may be a bit more intriguing, even if it’s shorter. Don’t tell Mitch, though. He’ll try to pitch his business again and set me up with the guy in question.” Little did Kit know that Mitch had already tried. Many times. “You know the whole thing about wanting someone you can’t have? Or someone you shouldn’t? Well that’s what my secret list is.” Parisa’s eyes met Kit, hoping he ate the bait so she didn’t have to crassly spell it out for him without him prompting her
he raises a brow at her, “ or maybe you’d just better find more excuses if you wanna get away from me quick. and resorting to excuses with me in general ? when you’ve told me to fuck off multiple times before ? a little pathetic, if you ask me. ” he says with a small shrug, a grin creeping on his lips as he sips on his drink. with that, they roll their eyes. “ i’m not planning on getting wet, so what do i need a swimsuit for ? i’m perfectly fine and comfortable with what i’ve got on now. ” he pauses, considering his next words. “ you do look good, though. ” even after a slew of bickering and insults, he had to slip that compliment in there. “ — are you okay, by the way ? did you… drink ? ” he questions with furrowed brows, knowing that parisa didn’t really drink… ever.
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“I know I do.” She wasn’t going to thank Link for complimenting her, not when it was deserved. Plus he was attracted to her, or at least he had been recently - she had a feeling that they had no complaints about seeing her in a bikini. “You care a little too much for someone who’s not my friend, and never was,” Parisa slurred, looking up at him triumphantly. Maybe she was being petulant right now, throwing Link’s words from casino night back in their face. But did that make her any better than him? “I just got tired of the complication is all, I didn’t expect it to turn into a whole... thing with avoiding you.” And there was the admission, something was bothering Parisa that resulted the avoidance of her schoolmate. And then he asked her something that might’ve been obvious, if she’d been drinking. “So, I accidentally drank something that I shouldn’t have. What’s the big deal? I’m not falling all over myself, I’m having fun. I made some friends on the soccer team... or was it football? Or at least, what you Americans call football. I can introduce you to them, if you want.” She was hoping that he said no, if only so she could keep Link’s attention for the moment. “Why? You keeping tabs on me now, Crawford?”
Booker tilted his head as he stared up at Parisa, eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. It must suck arguing with family.” His tone came out comforting, a sparkle in his eye. An opportunity. “If you ever want to talk, let me know. I know we don’t know each other too well, but I can lend an ear if you want it.” Show some compassion, an offer of help, and then change the subject. His mind supplies. “Glad we’re both comfortable then.” Booker said, grabbing a nearby pool noddle to rest his arms on. “I won’t leave you by your lonesome, unless you want to be alone right now. Just say the word, and I can awkwardly scoot away, because I’m too attached to this pool noodle right now.” The bright pink noodle appeared to wave at her as Booker manipulated the ends. “Humor me, but I think it deserves a name.” It was a dumb joke, a dumber idea, but if it made her smile, it was a win in his book.
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Shrugging at the younger man, Parisa exhaled and put on a smile. “We’ll be fine in the morning, it’d be like nothing happened. Or my father will apologize, we’ll see.” She may have made up this argument with her parents, but her father’s reluctance to admit wrongdoing was all too real. Maybe that’s where she’d gotten it from. “I think I’m fine, just some drama surrounding my uncle’s wedding next spring. It’s supposed to be a grand affair and has everyone talking.” Parisa was likely going to ask Mitch to go with her as a friend, even though her mother was still of the belief that she was seeing Link. Perhaps she should shed some light on the reality that she hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, currently playing the game of avoidance. “Rose,” Parisa decided regarding the noodle’s name. “It’s pink, so that came to mind first. But if you have another idea, I’ll take the L here.” Gently swirling her feet in the pool water, Parisa tilted her head. “Did you know her well? Greer, I mean.”
who: @parisadavani
where: greer’s birthday pool party
when: earlier in the night
“you ever watch the scream tv show?” parker said off-hand, bringing the lip of her drink cup to her mouth for a quick sip. “the MTV one, with the actress from little women 2017?” as if the context would help clarify. as if the walsh girl wasn’t the only one who almost compulsively pulled up IMDB when watching anything and everything. “i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this whole pool party setting is reminding me of the first episode. and bella thorne didn’t exactly end up a final girl.” perhaps it was the continuous string of odd texts or the fact that they were all supposedly celebrating someone who definitely, without a doubt, clearly wasn’t there, but parker wasn’t in the most optimistic of moods.
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“Not a fan of horror,” Parisa replied apologetically, shaking her head in response to the redhead’s question. She wished she had enough knowledge to contribute to the conversation in terms of understanding the reference. “But I know the gist of it. So if you mean to say it feels like a horror series then I agree with you. Probably why I want to go home as soon as possible.” But first she had to get Kit alone, or at least out of earshot of everyone else. “Who was the final girl?” Maybe the question would help lift the spirits, as Parisa swirled her Shirley Temple in her cup. She didn’t like the feeling of celebrating Greer in her absence, it felt eerie as Parker said. “I’m hoping to at least have some fun. Maybe meet someone new,” she hinted, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “Just looking as possible silver linings here is all. What about you, any hopes for the night?”
“I’m gooood. I have had…” The word was drawn out, unintentionally building anticipation. Honestly, Kit just couldn’t recall. As much as he tried, his memory of the evening just kind of blurred together in a haze of solo cups, pool noodles and scantily-dressed bodies. “A lot,” he finished with a chuckle. He felt as though nothing could accurately describe what he’s ingested this evening but that word. Thankfully, he’s been taking a break from drinking for well over an hour now. His body on a different kind of high. I let someone paint one on me earlier. Kit blinked, eyes following Parisa as she stood. “Oh yeah?” His gaze shifted from her face and trailed down her body once she turned, coming to a stop at the butterfly on her lower back. It made his mouth tug into a smile. “Hey, butterfly!” He said, pointing at it, as if Parisa didn’t just explain that. He looked up from the glow-in-the-dark painting and let his eyes settle on Parisa’s face again. You know, he was entirely aware of how beautiful Parisa was but he thought she looked particularly wonderful right now. Something about how care-free she seemed.
They were dancing. And it wasn’t like, a stuffy occasion. No neckties could be found here. Hell, people were hardly dressed. So Kit didn’t mind the closeness, neither was he paying much attention to it. His hands found themselves comfortably rested over the delicate curve of Parisa’s waist, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers as he listened to her. Or tried to anyway. The music was louder down here. He leaned closer to fix that issue, bowing his head so that his ear was angled to catch what she said. His mouth pulled into a smile at the compliment. “Yeah, I feel that way too actually,” he told her. At least right now he did. Who cared if it was thanks to a little pill? “You look really sparkly by the way.” His way of saying he’d just noticed the glitter on her. This close to Parisa, it was easier to notice… well, everything. “I like your hair,” he then said, his hand leaving her side to touch it. “Up or down, it’s really nice.” He always wondered if it was soft and he was pleased to confirm it was. “I like this guy too.” He abandoned the loose curls of dark hair he was toying with to point at one of the whimsical little butterflies on the straps of her bikini.
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“Montgomery’s been keeping you busy, huh?” Parisa teased, resting her other hand on Kit’s shoulder. He was probably too gone to remember what was going to happen tonight. On the other hand, Parisa was going to remember all too well - for both the right and wrong reasons. G didn’t say that Kit had to be receptive to or acknowledge her feelings about him, just that she had to disclose whether or not she’d have sex with him in secret as opposed to everyone simply believing they had had sex when they didn’t. Shaking her hips as she showed off the butterfly, Parisa giggled as she turned back around. “I’ll be fine tonight, though. I’ll make it back to Alcott in one piece. Once I get my wrap back from...” Did she want to ruin the mood by mentioning Link? “The friend I left it with, I think it’s with Lara.” The lines were blurring between Parisa setting the scene to carry out G’s orders and her genuinely wanting to be around Kit, and she wasn’t sure which side she was actually on. Or rather, she wasn’t sure if she was on the safe side of it, which excited and terrified her.
Gasping as Kit’s hands made contact with her waist on the dance floor, Parisa moved closer to him as they swayed to the music. “It’s to keep all eyes on me,” she joked, looking down at her shimmering body and then back up at Kit. A gasp escaped her perfectly glossed lips when Kit’s hand moved to her hair, with Parisa’s eyes meeting his as he affectionately touched her hair, in a way he’d never done before.. “Thanks...” was all that she was able to say in response to his compliments. He was never shy of giving them, but it felt different that night. Her eyes followed Kit’s finger as it moved from her hair to one of the butterflies on her strap, hovering over her heart. “The butterflies like you too. Not as much as I do, though. Because I really like you a lot.” Perhaps a confession fueled by liquid courage, or perhaps it was going to be taken platonically. Parisa knew that the clock was ticking though, and she needed to get Kit alone. “I think I need to sit for a bit, I’m going back to the bleachers,” she decided, hand dropping to hold his, as though encouraging him to follow her.
“Well, someone I’ve never done anything with before ever, that’s for sure,” Sam said, nodding her head. She didn’t think she’d ever so much as kissed anybody at this school before. Not that she’d never kissed anybody… Just nobody here. Unless they were counting kissing Ollie, or someone on the cheek or something, but she was not going to send a spicy message to Ollie! Both gross, and he’d never let her forget about it. “Did you know usually people hate hearing the sound of their own voice because it always sounds more uncertain than it does when you hear it in your head,” she offered that fun little fact looking up at Parisa. “But okay! Confidence!” Sam held up a finger counting off things she needed, then another, “and a taste of what is to come. Like… ‘you’re really cute and you should come over… so we can kiss…’ Oh man.” Sam let the end of her sentence trail off pitifully, covering her face as she laughed. “I should be good at this! I’m studying creative writing! This is a lot different when it’s writing fiction…”
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“Okay, a new interest then. Clean slate and all that.” Parisa was probably going to advise that Sam go with something safer than an R-rated voicemail for someone she had yet to do something with, but who was she to judge if the younger girl was feeling risqué? More power to her. Furrowing her eyebrows, the junior turned to the other and gave her a curious look. “Yes, people hate the sound of their own voice. But babe, they’ll love the sound of yours, whoever this is.” Easy for someone who spoke with a British accent while living in the United States to say. “Maybe less direct, but definitely conveying the point. Like yes, you want to kiss them - and maybe do more? But allude to it instead of saying it directly, and add some spice. Like I just purchased a bunch of new clothes, and I want to put on a fashion show. I think you could have a front row seat to it, a very up close and personal experience. I’ll also give you some perks for backstage access in the dressing room,” she advised, chuckling as she looked down at her drink before looking at Sam again. “But a full disclaimer, last time I tried to do a sexy surprise on someone I liked, I ended up surprising the other person he was seeing instead. So take my advice with a grain of salt, it hasn’t gone particularly well for me in the past. But you, I think you’re different, Sam.”
