#para grayson

[scarlett-billings]

Seven Devils All Around You || Scarlett & Grayson

The red sole of Scarlett’s Louboutin tapped impatiently against the linoleum floor. She wasn’t used to having to wait. She was used to people bending over backwards for her. And lord knew she was used to a fuck of a lot better quality coffee than what this place had to offer. Waiting in line at a Starbucks? It made some people seem high end. But to the girl who had had real coffee in all the best cafes around the world, it might as well be white trash. Sadly it was the best there was to be had. Though it would absolutely never compare to an Italian café. Fuck even French coffee was better than this shit.

“Carmel macchiato. Two extra shots of expresso. Non-fat milk.”

“And would you like a double chocolate brownie to go with that?” The barista smiled at her, only thinly veiling her annoyance with the blonde who clearly though herself above everyone else in the shop.

A sneer fell on Scarlett’s lips. “Do I look like I eat brownies? There’s only one of the two of us who eats brownies and it’s the same one who doesn’t need to go on a diet. Hint: It’s not me.”

The girl muttered her curses, but Scarlett heard them all the same. A smile fell on her lips. There was always something satisfying about being able to rile people up. Knowing you had the power to get under their skin, pinch their nerves, and manipulate them just as easily as if given direct access to their brain. It was power that kept Scarlett going after everything she had been through. Power highs and a flat bull-headed refusal to give up. To be the one that was beaten. To be the one as pathetically changed as her siblings had been. Perhaps they had life walk all over them, but Scarlett Billings walked on life, red soles and all.

Scarlett rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t have to stand and wait for her coffee. Why the fuck was it that she couldn’t go sit at a table and have her damn coffee brought to her? America really was shit. She was sick of the county already. She wanted to leave. But her secretly empty bank account was keeping her in the country. It was infuriating. Her eyes caught on a man across the café. He looked oddly familiar. Slowly it registered in her head. She’d seen him with Aurelia at some point. Well this day just got much more fun. She’d found the cheapest form of entertainment: Torturing a poor unfortunate soul.

She snatched her finished coffee from the barista and sauntered over toward the man. She plopped the coffee onto the table and tossed the lid off in his direction. “I’ve seen you with my sister. That means you’re either a pain-in-the-ass stick-in-the-mud like her or that she’s slowly smothering you to death with her bitchy stuffiness.” She pulled a small bottle of vodka, the kind you would find in a mini bar, from her purse and poured half of it into her coffee before holding out the bottle to the dark-haired man in front of her. “So. Which is it?”

[gretchen-hall]

A Really Tiny Gang || Gretchie + Graysie

Gretchen didn’t like to think of herself as much of a rebel. If anything, she was sheltered, and she knew it.  She was young, inexperienced, and definitely afraid of the world around her, especially with the threat of the “un-deadly” virus lurking outside the walls—or lately, around any corner.  It hadn’t even been a day since the possible biohazard victim had been caught, hardy two days since Gretchen had met Grayson for the first time, and nearly three since she had left the apartment complex for anything other than a brisk, direct walk to school or work.  To say she was feeling restless was definitely an understatement, and it ignited a small flare of rebelliousness within her.  

The teenager had tried to behave.  She had tried her best to preoccupy herself during the lockdown by meeting new people like the friendly yet cynical schoolteacher, Jackson, the undeniably cute radio operator, Noah, the oddly clinical Johanna, and grumpy Grayson.  Gretchen had gone so far as to complete all of her homework—without copying—and requested extra reading from Beckett, her teacher.  While most of the other kids were probably sleeping, hanging out, and enjoying their day off from school with a possible brain-eating lunatic stalking the streets the down time only made her feel isolated from her peers and envious of their families. 

It had happened suddenly, but Gretchen didn’t feel half as alone as she had first coming to sector all in one day.  It shocked her that adults would care what she had to say, would side with her when it came to her parents, and that she could make them laugh or smile. Tonight, she even had plans with one, which made getting through a shift in the laundry room harder than it normally was.  Her mind kept focusing on her plans for midnight that evening instead of the task at hand, until she carefully selected and lifted a number of personal items from a few very specific people’s laundry bags.

Finally, it was time to go home.  She worked through her take-home work only putting in a half effort before opening her cupboards and trying to figure out what to eat.  She had a few slices of bread left, a can of black beans, and a few other things that could barely scrape together into a passable meal.  Her stomach growled as she thought about just sucking it up and eating the beans, but she lacked the simple tool of a can opener.  For the fourth night in a row she settled for taming the hunger in her stomach with a few slices of stale bread.

Eventually the time for lights out came, and Gretchen changed into an all black ensemble, stuffing the lifted laundry items into her backpack.  She snuck into the hallway creeping quietly. She had had years of experience sneaking out past her perpetually alert nanny—tonight shouldn’t be any different. But it was.  Her heart wracked against her chest with as much excitement as it had anxiety. For once, she wasn’t sneaking out just to be around, she was meeting up with someone who actually seemed excited to see her, and that made all the difference. 

Gretchen maneuvered through the shadows cast from the housing units on the street until she made it behind the building.  She tucked herself between the building and a dumpster waiting until she heard someone approach.  Gretchen kept low as she crept to the front of the dumpster to peek out and see who was there.  She grinned when she recognized his silhouette and picked up a small rock, sending it skittering across the concrete toward his feet to get her attention.  When he looked she lifted a finger and pressed it to her lips before pointing at a nearby open window.  She trotted to his side, eagerness and excitement worn plainly on the smile that damn near spread from one ear to the other. “Where are we gonna go?” she asked in a whisper.  “I was hopin’ we could get to the roof of the training center. Got somethin’ I wanna do.”  She gestured to the backpack she wore.