how did nele not know about this tree before? perfectly curved trunk to accommodate a persons back, and located in a quiet enough place to get away with a nap. but there’d be no time for slumber today, for the sound of a fellow students voice bellows from the grass beside her. nele only manages to catch the end of their sentence, “sorry, i’m up in the clouds right now. what did you say?”
Treading endlessly and for what contrasted what forever could’ve felt like but knowing his destination, the campus was quiet, too quiet. His AirPods, which he of course wore like they were diamond earrings, weren’t playing a thing. When he finally reached his destination, he was astounded, to say the least. Someone, a girl from what it looked like, in his quiet space, and honestly the perfect hiding spot during the warmer days on campus. “Nothing,” he replied quickly, his glaring altered quickly. “Real neat spot huh?” He questioned, very rhetorically at that, she was obviously in a state of pure bliss. “How’d you find it?”
The interruption was enough to tear Ella’s attention away from her friend. Her eyes narrowed, an amused smile ghosting over her lips. “Been a while, Max.” She’d been to enough of the BBC’s weekend parties to recognize him anywhere. And even if she hadn’t, she’d rallied for him on the swim team just as much as she would have for the rest of her teammates. “Understatement. Remember when we fucking annihilated them in the freestyle relay?” The memory widened her smile. It seemed like ages ago. In some ways it was - a vestige of her first year at the school. Time had changed him since then. Whether it was time or sliding up the ranks of the BBC, Ella didn’t know, but he had the attitude of an overconfident peacock, which simultaneously amused and annoyed her, and a penchant for troublemaking. And if Ella ever was anything, it was a trouble maker.
Ella could pretend to be disappointed that Max didn’t know who Sappho was, but in all honesty, Ella enjoyed any opportunity she had to talk. Especially when it involved literature. “She’s a greek poetess from the island of Lesbos. She’s basically a literary icon and wrote a bunch of amazing love poems. Mostly about other women. She’s basically why the term ‘lesbian,’” she bent her fingers in air quotes, “exists. Most of her poems were destroyed, so there’s only a few fragments left.” It was tragic, really.
Ella nearly beamed at the compliment, but his flattery was quickly doused by the next phrase that came rolling out of his mouth. “I didn’t perk my-” she shook her head, “whatever. Not that it matters.” She pushed her hair off her shoulder, rolling her eyes.
Ella frowned at the casserole before shaking her head. She snickered, turning so she faced him fully. She picked up the apple juice and took a sip. “Damn Perry. I didn’t know the president of the BBC could be such a wuss.” She shrugged, letting the challenge hang in the silence as she picked up his fork and punched it through the casserole and put it in her mouth. Ella’s face pinched, but she swallowed it. “Definitely rank as hell.”
“Not long enough, Ella.” A feigned sigh escaping his mouth rather dramatically. It was too soon to start something, it was impulsive, to blurt out the most rude thing that can come to mind. “I’m joking, partially.” He reassured, his dangerously cold blue eye winking up at her quickly. “Annihilated, understatement, more like, mopped the fucking floor with their tears.” He chuckled, times were a lot more simple back then, and you could not convince Max that his relay team or himself weren’t qualified for the Olympics.
A surprise to, no one really, Max’s attentiveness dispersed expeditiously when “lesbos” happened to spoken of. “I’m sure you learned a lot English Lit, and just gave me the perfect answer to a question that might be on a quiz I didn’t study for, but you had me at Island of Lesbos, to be completely honest.” He admitted, proudly too. “But, the chick was basically a symbol of like, what? Love between women? I thank her for that,” he nodded as he continued to switch between the same three applications on his phone mindlessly.
“You did, its alright, I like to show a little chest too, its all good over here.” Tugging at the zipper of his form-fitting black Nike hoodie, revealing a broad chest, and a single silver chain. “We’re practically twins.”
“Wuss?” He scoffed, “Picky eater, is more like it, I don’t put just anything in my body contrary to popular belief, this” he exaggerated his body and facial features “doesn’t just happen, time, and moisturizer does.” He explained in only a manner he could. “Why don’t you try it yeah, daredevil?”
“Because everybody loves being compared to a slimy pest people kill slowly with salt."His attempts at sarcasm often got undermined by the fact he seemed like the kind of person that would apologise if you poured soup on his lap. .He just couldn’t commit to having a sarcastic tone.His need to always have people on side cancelled it out.It came across more like ‘Yes this is supposed to be sarcastic but only if it’s ok with you’."Dude ,that’s super fucking gross.There’s no way I’d be into that.But message received loud and clear."Max was everything he hated about Johnnie on steroids.But crass jokes at his expense were easier to brush off when he did it.Maybe because he was the president of the BBC and didn’t look like a greasy swamp rat.
"Disney lied to us.Keira Knightley being badass was the real reason that movie slapped."Apparently Keira Knightley sword fighting and delivering one liners in a ball was the hill he was willing to die on.But there was something cathartic and entertaining about seeing a woman known for boring period pieces aimed at old people and a cool soccer movie disguised as a chick flick kicking ass."But you would know how awesome pirate Keira Knightley and a CGI octopus man are if you gave the movie a chance.”,Jonah sing-songed unaware that he was fighting a losing battle.Sword fighting Keira Knightley was the hill he was willing to die on but he would immediately drop the subject if he was asked.
“No it doesn’t.It’s just a fact of life that Lola Bunny was hot."He didn’t know how to feel about being able to easily bullshit being into an anthropomorphic rabbit.It probably said a lot about who he was as a person and revealed too much about a fucked up part of his brain.But he didn’t want to investigate that.He was more focused on pulling off a strange lie.He scrunched up his face."What’s that supposed to mean?Fuck no."Max needed to find a new hobby that wasn’t pressing his buttons.
Jonah flipped Max off back in return.It was fucked up that the senior members of the BBC got to ask whatever gross personal questions they wanted but could also avoid reasonable questions that needed to be asked.”Because impressing you and your friends is the most important thing in my life.”,he was trying to be a snarky bitch but that wasn’t far from the truth."And hey I don’t-”,he stopped himself mid sentence.He didn’t know much but he knew that acting defensive only raised suspicion and would probably cause Max to make some fucked up comment.“It’s whatever ,forget it.”,Jonah backtracked with a forced sense of cool.
Jonah shrugged.Of course it was easy , he would have jumped off a moving train if Max told him to.”I can barely do a book report when it’s a part of my grade.”It was a truthful complaint.He was passing English but it was truly a miracle and must of been down to God working in mysterious ways.He didn’t give a shit about themes or the writer’s motivation for certain word choices.He had a literal brain and could only take what happened in media at face value.”Making somebody write a book report to show you have power over them is a majorly sick and twisted move.”He tried to sound judgemental.”They might just kill the suspicious bastards and spare the people that were nice to them.”,he commented with a smile.He was pretty sure that was a trope in horror movies.He thought he remembered the weird mask guy sparing people the last time he was forced to watch Halloween.But he was smoking a bunch of pot at the time so his memory was hazy.
“What can I say ,I’m always here to help out with your weird kinks.”,he drawled.He was thankful that had his back to him because while he rolled his eyes while delivering his lame joke there was also a red tint to his cheeks.
“Wow I didn’t expect you to be such a gentleman.”,Jonah weekly fired back stepping into Max’s room.The place looked eerily like an IKEA show room.”So where do you want me to dump this ,your grand highness?”,he asked ,while tapping the side of the laundry basket.
“Now you get the bigger picture, just grow a backbone and it’ll work wonders for you.”
And he was still beating the dead horse that was that terrible pirate movie franchise, his expression growing dull and lifeless, in contrast to his mind too. Jonah’s words weren’t perceived in the all Max heard was gibberish. “Are you done now? Like, seriously, because you cannot take a hint man, I could care less about Depp, and his pirate movies that went on for far too long.”
“Dude, if you’re into talking animals just say that, I mean, I’m gonna judge you regardless, but just say that,” a simple statement really no matter how fucked up it truly was, and a definite kinkshame. “So, do you like, search up Lola Bunny in the the PornHub search tabs or what?” He quizzed, getting on the very last nerve of anyone was something Max took pride in.
Dangerously blue eyes widened as a result from Jonah’s comment. “Man,” he sighed, a chuckle following him soon after, “you’ve got to start saying ‘no homo’ after a few of your sentences,” he concluded, like he just didn’t state that asserting dominance over the pledge was a hard on.
“You can set them on my desk chair, I was gonna have you fold them and put them up by color, but seeing my speedos or underwear might turn you on,” he said placing his phone on the wireless charging station that also charged his Apple Watch and AirPods, it was a sleek black design and went swimmingly with the rest of his room.. “So, why exactly did you pledge?” He questioned, straightforward to, to be exact. “I never got to ask you, and you look like you’ve got a reasonable moral compass.”
“So. Plot twist. He stood me up. Like, just completely didn’t show.” Ella dropped her purse on the table in Broadripple’s dining hall. It was the only one she’d brought to the Academy with her, the only one nice enough to be deemed worthy of going out. But instead of a promised Friday night escape to one of the local restaurants just out of town, Ella was left waiting at the gates for a ride that never showed up. If she was being honest with herself, the first of many red flags had arisen when Brent kept trying to slide their texts into the realm of sexts. And optimism was always an excuse she fell back on when she knew she wanted something unrealistic. “Just so you know, the guys from Somerville High are lame. I swear, this guy didn’t even know Sappho was an actual person.” She definitely wasn’t bitter about it. She totally didn’t care. Even though she’d wasted an hour trying to recreate a make-up tutorial and slaving over an outfit that looked effortlessly cute. An hour that she could have spent on something meaningful. Like practicing lines or reviewing Griffin’s latest edits for Broadripple Uncensored.
Instead, she’d spent her open afternoon rifling through drawers, switching out her earrings, and trying on nearly every article of clothing in her wardrobe. Gwen would have a mouthful to say about the pile mounted on Ella’s bed when she got back to the room, but Ella considered that an issue to suss out later.
She looked over the food on her classmate’s plate. Ella frowned. “Okay, that tuna casserole looks expired.” Ella cracked a smile. “Does it taste as sad as it looks?”
AirPods were the new thing it seemed, and every since Max got his pair, they’ve basically turned into diamond earrings to him, they rarely ever left his ears. But he removed them long enough, and just in the nick of time to hear a girl in distress, or so he thought, it was nothing short of the Bat Signal to him.
“Good to know, their entire swim program can suck a dick,” he retaliated, not sharing very fond memories of them in his earlier days at Broadripple. “And who the fuck is Sappho?” He added, she did say it as if he was supposed to know who they were. He halted any further responses as he actually lifted his head up from his phone, nodding in approval, because that’s what every girl wants from Max Perry. “You look good,” he mused, genuinely too. “Can’t believe you perked your cookies all the way up for some guy like, three towns over. He must look like me.”
His attention turned to the plate of the sad excuse for a meal, and frowned as well. “I don’t know, you wanna give it a try?” He said taking the apple juice of the tray and sliding it towards her. “I’d be nothing short of suicidal putting that in my body.”
There was possibly nothing in the world more repulsive than being called ‘babe’ in a condescending manner by Max Perry, so if she could withstand that without projectile vomiting onto the tiles beneath them, she felt confident about dealing with anything else he had to say to her that afternoon. Shit. He was right. She had been so excited about being invited to that dumb party, she’d spent at least an hour checking every angle in the mirror to make sure she didn’t look totally repulsive in her bikini. Not that she was going to let him know that, “-everybody makes mistakes, Max, even you,” like being born, for example, “- I think my BBC party days are over, so I guess I’ll have to find another way to make my tragic life worth living,” she spoke dryly, distracting herself with her laundry.
“Okay, okay, okay- I get it, you have no shame, message loud and clear,” she waved a hand dismissively in his direction. God knows how far he was willing to go to make sure she was totally and utterly repulsed by every word that left his lips, “Mission accomplished, my skin is officially crawling,” she assured him. She sighed softly and averted her gaze, balling her fist and rubbing gently at her left eye, overcompensating to demonstrate that she was not pervertedly gawking at his ripped body. “I could just go on your Instagram, I’m sure it’s basically a visual anthology of every time you’ve ever taken your shirt off for more than half a minute,” she reasoned, not that she’d ever looked it up before, of course…
Whoa. Bingo. She’d hit a sore spot, evidently and she wasn’t even sure if she’d meant to. Interesting. “What do you think I was thinking?” she asked, prodding as she raised an eyebrow, “That it’s actually possible that your timely departure was more than a mere coincidence and that you would actually sell your buddies out for some reason?” she was poking the bear now and she knew it but sometimes, she just couldn’t help herself. The small, microscopic and fleeting sense of leverage was like a drug. “If I was to believe that you wouldn’t do that, I’d have to find a reason and that reason would have to suggest that you had any noble qualities about you at all and why would I think that?” she questioned him, curious to know what he thought. What possible reasons could he provide to defend his personality? What qualities did he think he possessed that would make her believe he wouldn’t do something totally shitty like that?
“Aw, babe... don’t talk like that,” he begged. “Look, I’m sorry,” not at all, “but a BBC party is like a Hallmark card you know? We care, not a lot, but just enough to give you the very best.” Comparing the two things that were not a single correlation to one another was a bust, blackout drunk nights, and trashing any space they inhabited just happened to be Max’s definition of giving the very best.
“Exactly, there’s no shame in jacking off anyway, that sin is a total win in my book,” rhyme truly intended, “plus, something tells me you’re not exactly the religiously devout kinda chick, right? Babe.” No girls really rolled their eyes in pure disgust, or displayed lingering disdain when Max called them babe quite like Casey Roberts, and that was definitely her new nickname. Daphne or Velma wouldn’t suffice. “For someone so disgusted at me you sure talk about my body a lot, Jesus... just say the word babe, nobody has to know, the laundry can totally wait too.”
All he could do was stare, a healthy mix of blankly and coldly, for the seemingly the first time in his life he didn’t have a witty comeback, and he wasn’t gonna give her the satisfaction, even though she clearly already got it. “Alright then, so you just so happen to be so fascinated, what’s my motive? What do I possibly have to gain by cutting off like, the only group of (my) dumb asses that mildly tolerate me?” He questioned, stepping closely until he was towering above her. “I am thee biggest dick in the state of fucking Massachusetts, but I’d throw you, your brother, a pledge, or just about anyone under the bus before I do to one of them.” He explained. “I never claimed I had noble qualities whatsoever, when it comes to me at least, judge a book by its cover.”
Charlie spent a lot of Bible study biding his time until the Nighmore children realized they’d won the numbers game and attacked, so the Children of the Corn comparison was apt. He figured being gutted by a scythe was overkill as far as punishments went, but at least it was cinematic.
“Kat’s not a stick in the mud, dog,” Charlie corrected. “She popped molly and told me she wanted to fuck me.” He made a motion with his hand, to demonstrate that these were concrete defenses against Max’s judgment. Perhaps also to demonstrate that Damian was not the ‘Mr.’ to Kat’s ‘Mrs.’. At least not yet. Right?
“Y’all are way too obsessed with chicks you’re never gonna get,” Charlie said when Maria was brought up again. What were his bro’s obsessions with bagging on Kat and getting hard over Maria? Was that some sort of club bylaw he’d missed? “Maria’s chastity belt is double locked. The only action you’re gonna get from her is an hour-long lecture about feminism and if that’s your kink, you might as well drop the BBC and become pres of the Women of Broadripple.”
He dropped his head back against the washing machine, looking up at Max. “Seriously, dude, what’s your game plan there?”
“I know, it was sort of like, my mouth moving faster than my brain, or something like that,” he attempted to explain. “Did you give her some? You’re like, a one man cartel, white El Chapo if anything, and I can’t believe I forgot.”
He couldn’t help but scoff and chuckle at the comments that followed, did he not know who he was? Well, he obviously did, the thought of someone other than himself being right didn’t sit well with Max, at all. Literally a pill he couldn’t swallow, the only pill he couldn’t swallow.
“Why so negative man? I’ve met some tough chicks in my day here, look where the fuck we’re at.” Spreading his arms out in hopes he’d get the bigger picture. Not some old laundry room, but an old laundry room in a religiously devout catholic school with girls who’s last thought is putting out for a guy like Max. “You’ve got a point though, but I am totally ignoring it just so you know.” He stated simply, Charlie was without a doubt the voice of reason, but in true Max fashion, he ignored it.
“Uh,” he scrunched up his nose, his eyebrows, and looked away in the distance, feigning deep thoughts as he sat down against the washing machine copying Charlie’s posture. “I’ve got not a single clue,” he admitted. “When do I ever have a plan? Goin’ in guns blazing is more my speed.”
“It’s called Broadripple Unsolved,” she protested, though as soon as the words left her mouth she realized that it actually just made it sound a whole lot lamer. Fuck. “-and we’re not wannabe anything, we leave that up to you guys and your off-price frat house- you’re like the Marshall’s of college douchebags. You know you’re graduating in less than a year right. You can just wait until you’re in an actual frat to be predatory and offensive? Then you guys get matching polo shirts and everything- or do you already have those?”
“I don’t have enough hands for that…” she was trying so, so hard not to imagine how many jizz stains existed in Max’s closet but he’d invited the image and now she couldn’t get it out of her head. As soon as he mentioned wandering eyes her gaze launched was launched to the ceiling with a tip of her chin as if to prove that she had totally never ever checked him out and she hadn’t even noticed even one of his four billion abs, not one. “Okay- I looked once but I was like- shocked, I was shocked,” she insisted, returning her gaze to his face now, defiantly. “You guys are the only people in school that treat nudity like a human right,” and Poppy R. and Andrea P. perhaps but they were basically gender-bent BBC boys anyway.
“Yeah, we did, actually. You know what? Turns out that when you play the Chainsmokers on repeat for several hours straight less than a mile away from where all of the staff sleep- you’re kinda setting yourself up to be gatecrashed by a teacher or twelve. Wasn’t a ghost at all, just poor planning,” she explained. Then she realized something. “Which…you must have known the whole time cos you didn’t get caught…” she was suspicious now, “What’s up with that? Were you the one that snitched?” she asked curiously. She could see it. He was a snake in the grass. A slimy, two-faced, totally buff, snake in the grass.
“A monster under your bed?” God, what an asshole. What a stupid, handsome asshole. “Are you sure it’s not Sebastian Sergeant- oh wait, he wouldn’t be able to fit. Maybe it’s another one of your knuckle-dragging buddies- is that a possibility?”
"Right,” he chuckled, a long winded sigh following soon after. As if the corny nod to Buzzfeed was going to make it sound any cooler. Some people just made it way too easy for Max. “Say what you want babe, you still drag your ass out of that dorm and to any party with our names attached, in your skimpiest bikini, because at the end of the day, we all know its the highlight of your miserable week.” He explained, wanting her, or anyone else for that matter to protest differently.
“You can find the time, just a few socks and lingering face towels, sometimes I need like, one of those beach towels you know? Bigger canvas and all that, I swear its like a sprinkler on the right nights,” ew. An ode to her predatory and offensive comment earlier. “And, is it not? I mean, the way you’re counting my abs I thought you’d agree, if you want me to strike a pose so you can take a picture be my guest, it’ll last way longer,” he asserted. The world and everything in it revolved around him, and he refused to believe otherwise.
“Obviously it was poor fucking planning, contrary to popular belief none of my boys, and I mean my boys, are actually that stupid enough, I’m not apologizing for The Chainsmokers though, who doesn’t love Halsey?” He expressed. In a perfect world, well, his perfect world, they all would’ve bailed when they seen Max jump ship, as they liked to call it. It wasn’t his fault nobody used their last brain cells and saved their own ass and left with him. How could they get mad at him? Community service? Yuck. “Look, Nancy Drew I know what you’re getting at, kill that thought, now.” His finger pointing in her direction clothing some of the space between them, God was he tired of all the accusations left and right, no snitching was involved at all. Although it may be the hardest thing to believe, if it really came down to it, Max Perry was no snitch.
“Not a possibility,” he shrugged off seamlessly as if it didn’t bother him when it really did. “They’re too busy sucking each others dicks and bitching about how I left early,” way to sound not bothered at all. “I think its The Boogeyman, I really insist, I just can’t sleep at night, or maybe an alien, and you know what, between me and you, I heard someone seen Big Foot in the woods last weekend.” He really got off on these jokes. “You meddling kids should get to the bottom of it. Where the fuck is the Mystery Machine?”
A lot had changed since freshman year; students had become older, wiser, taller, they’d grown into their oversized uniforms and their voices had become deeper. They’d learned things about the world and about God and about each other that would prepare them for life after school, in the real world. Some things, however, had not changed. The old buildings were still made of worn brick, the breeze that passed through the cloisters on school day mornings still had an icy bite and boys like Maximillian Perry were still total assholes.
“Yeah- right,” he didn’t really have any clue what Max was talking about. Was dunking people in the pool and ruining girls’ hair and possibly their nights in the process supposed to be fun? For guys like this? Yeah, probably. Not for guys like Tomi, however, and he maintained a certain level of pride about that. Not that he’d ever dare say it aloud in front of a BBC boy, however, let alone their president.
He nodded his head to confirm Max’s suspicion, though he wasn’t sure revealing himself to the other male was such a good thing. “We were in freshman English together- I sat in front of you I think,” he assured him, “Next to Damian Fitzgerald,” was this ringing any bells? Probably not, “Tomas Lozano, I’m in Melleray,” he reminded him, though it wasn’t as if he’d made a particularly bold impression on anybody during his first year at Broadripple. “I just moved back from Japan,” that was cool, wasn’t it? Surely a year abroad would earn him some popularity points if absolutely nothing else about him did.
Tough crowd, did Max come across another guy that lacked a sense of humor? His reply set him back a tone, but alas putting on his big boy pants for the first time, in well, forever, he ignored it however and continued.
“Dude,” he mused, as it had finally dawned on him, like he had solved a mystery he spent his whole life searching for. “No way man, you were a fucking twig, like... you could’ve dodged raindrops. Short, scrawny arms, puberty smacked the hell outta you man.”
He maintained a fixed gaze, he was in complete awe to say the least, it showed how fast time goes by. Max was in the early stages of becoming the insufferable narcissistic asshole when he’d met Tomi.
“Japan?” This kid did it all to say the least, “cool,” he stated simply with a nod of his head. “You’re not going to find some way to bring that up in like every conversation though are you?” He inquired, just for reassurance so he’d know whether to ignore him the next time they encountered one another, pleasant conversations with Max were rare, nor did they last any long. “So, what brought you back to the states? Here of all places.”
Returning to campus had turned out to be far more nerve-wracking than Tomi had anticipated. When he’d left Broadripple to live in Japan with his parents for a year and half, he’d hardly had any friends, he’d hardly spent any time outside of his dorm room or without headphones blasting music into his ears and he’d never felt like he was really a part of the rich tapestry of Broadripple life.
Now, he was slightly older, slightly more mature. He was a little taller (but not much), he’d discovered working out and had stacked on a ton of weight in muscle and he’d even discovered that putting deodorant on was a necessity, rather than a preference and that showering at least once a day actually felt pretty good. It wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time by himself or that he didn’t play computer games anymore, he did, it was just that he played them a whole lot less and had started to value face-to-face human interaction a whole lot more. Japan had been a real eye-opener for the teenager and he wanted to continue on the path he had started paving there by making new friends at Broadripple and making the best of his high school years before they were over.
“Hey,” he greeted another student in the common room with a smile, tugging at the strap of his backpack. He didn’t know if the other student remembered him or even cared to learn that he’d attended the school during freshman year and part of sophomore year too but either way, he was going to treat them like a pal. Confidence. He reminded himself. “So, I guess pool parties are off the table for the foreseeable future, huh?” he joked lightly, making use of recent events to get in tune with the rest of the student body.
Scrolling endlessly on Instagram’s explore page for what seemed like hours on end was put at an abrupt halt when Max had heard a voice, a voice that was greeting someone, it surely couldn’t have been him, right? People just don’t greet Max Perry, not kindly at least. This had to be a student that was living under a rock, new to the scene, genuinely nice, or all of the above.
“Whats... up.” He replied unsure and somewhat cautiously, his trust issues were showing. He looked at him, then back at his phone, then back at the boy again quickly this time as if he’d recognized him. But he didn’t change his relaxed posture on the couch one bit. His back slouched into the cushions, and his legs spread wide.
“Definitely, I didn’t even get to dunk anyone’s head under water or throw some chick in that didn’t want to get her hair wet. That jawn was a total bust, but I can’t complain as far as the staff is concerned, I’m an innocent man.” He explained, Max surprisingly didn’t utilize his usual “I told you so,” approach to other BBC boys when talking about the party, it was obviously inevitable that someone was gonna find them, that’s why he dipped off so early. The sisters, teachers, and basically all the staff alike were shocked not to see Max in all his glory at the scene of the crime.
“Do I know you though? You look, familiar, too fucking familiar.”
Max Perry. The Godfather of the Broadripple Boy’s Club and the epitome of just about everything Casey loathed about the popular boys, including how unfairly attractive they were. “Surprised you even noticed I was there,” she admitted, it truly wasn’t her scene but she’d been invited by Johnnie and since he’d orchestrated the whole thing and was pals with the BBC, she’d figured she had some semblance of immunity with the bullies, at least for a little while. Max’s greeting suggested otherwise, however. Fuckwad. How creative.
“Thrift shop,” she corrected, “I get to sort questionably soiled second-hand goods all afternoon and come back to campus smelling like mothballs- which is not my usual scent, by the way, in case there’s any confusion,” she assured him. That was precisely the reason she was dumping her clothes for the day into the laundry, she couldn’t bare the smell. Unlike, Max, however, she’d already taken them off and had put them in her laundry bag instead of stripping down in front of the laundry drop-off point. “Is it like- a condition of the club that you guys have to be shirtless for a specific percentage of your time?” she wasn’t complaining per se it was just kind of annoying how jacked these guys were, though she assumed it was mostly due to steroids or something like that, “Just asking- is it like thirty percent? Forty? It can’t be higher than that surely- and does it change depending on the season?”
Of course he was egotistical, vain, and rarely, if ever paid attention to what anybody else had going on unless he was involved, but he still knew who he was surrounded by, most of the time. “Come on, you’re part of Broadripple’s wannabe Scooby Gang, with the kid who’s obsessed with his grandma and a few other people crammed into the mystery machine,” trying his worst to explain that he at least knew of her and the club she had founded more than anything however.
“Ah, jizz stains galore huh? You can totally wash mine to you know, fuel your fantasies,” he enthused. “Damn, I didn’t even get to make my jokes about the funny smell that followed you in here, that stinks,” he whined, like anyone naturally smells like the sour odor of mothballs. “Funny,” he chuckled, to be honest, if he wasn’t out and about outside, Max was shirtless, it got hot way too easily in those dorms. “I don’t know honestly, aren’t you keeping track? With those wandering eyes I thought you had the stats down pat,” he admitted dumping the remains of his load turning towards the girl leaning against the machine. “Fifty, and it changes depending on the season. Did you and the gang split up and get to the bottom of the curse of the crashed pool party? Or you know what I think there’s actually a monster under my bed, can you guys check it out?”
Max’s laughter caused Jonah to pout in a way that made him look like a kicked puppy.“Shut up ,I do have a backbone.”,he argued ,giving him a light shove.He was tempted to make things easier for himself by getting a doormat tattooed on his forehead.It would bypass all the foreplay and sum up how everybody seemed to see him.He might of been transfixed on the way Max ran his tongue over his bottom lip but it wasn’t in a gay way.He was simply observing something that was difficult to ignore.Didn’t everybody fuck up and stare at a dude’s lips sometimes? “So , I’m a slug? Thanks for that.”
“I’m just trying to stop you from missing out on one banger of a movie and a bunch of shitty sequels."His real community service was making sure nobody missed out on a cool soundtrack and Kiera Knightly being a badass."Devilishly handsome and humble too?You really are the total package."he commented,sarcastically.
He wasn’t sure what was worse ; all the times various BBC members had called him a little bitch or being told he seemed like the type of guy that watched weird animated porn.He was going to mention that knowing enough about weird internet subcultures to make jokes about them made somebody seem guilty of being a weirdo.”Everybody thinks Lola Bunny from Space Jam is hot.It doesn’t make me a furry.”,he joked with a chuckle.It was disturbing how many people ironically thought that.It was also disturbing how much the middle school biology teacher he had to pretend to be attracted to reminded him of Lola Bunny.“I’m also not the one that’s into weird tentacle porn."If he told anyone his theory about Sebastian he’d get punched but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t convinced it was true.The dude brought up hentai too much for somebody that hadn’t watched it.His eyes almost popped out of his head when Max asked if he was a virgin.What kind of person considered that small talk?"No."It would of been a convincing lie if he wasn’t fidgeting and his voice didn’t raise an octave.”Why are you interested in if I’m fucking or not?Is there like a height restriction to join the BBC but instead of how tall you are it’s how much pussy you’re getting.”It was so fucking weird.If Max was trying to psyche him out then mission accomplished.
“I don’t know I’ve never seen it.”,he admitted with a sheepish shrug.Horror movies weren’t really his thing.He got bored waiting for the next scare and didn’t care about what happened to the characters.Horror movies where are the characters were assholes because they existed just to be victims for the killer were the lamest ones.”I’ll take your word for it.If you say it’s a fucking classic then it’s a fucking classic.”It wasn’t that he trusted Max’s opinions on movies , his favourite movie was probably called Weapon of Ass Destruction or some shit.But it was an unspoken rule that his word was law and he called the shots.It was a rare sight but Jonah actually rolled his eyes.”You’re being paranoid , dude.Some people are nice because they want to be.It doesn’t mean they’re hiding a deep dark secret.”It was sad that Max couldn’t take things at face value and trust that some people were genuinely nice.”It’s not like I have a choice.” Any attempt to seem like he was begrudgingly offering to help with Max’s laundry was undermined by the smile on his face.”Is this hazing thing just an excuse to have guys do your dirty work?You’re such clever assholes.”Jonah remarked while following Max out of the laundry room.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself, you’re absolutely welcome,” he concluded, and finally getting Jonah to say it himself, in true Max fashion, like he knew he would. “Also, don’t touch me again without permission or I will gladly kick your ass in ten different ways and have the boys gang bang you, and not in the way you’d like.” Returning the slight shove he’d given earlier, did Max mean half of the crude and unusual shit he said? Half the time, the other fifty percent was merely an attempt to see just how people would react.
“And for the second time Jonah, which I hate having to say things twice, I don’t care about Johnny Depp in eyeliner and poorly did dreads, talk to me about an actually good movie like Narnia or some shit then we’re getting somewhere,” dismissing him and his movie seamlessly once again, it really was like talking to a brick wall when trying to convince the young man of practically anything that didn’t have the honor of being in his interests. “Exactly,” he replied quickly following with a quick wink of his eye, another thing he couldn’t have said better himself, and for someone so incredibly witty and sarcastic himself he didn’t pick up on that comment one bit, he took it as a compliment.
“That’s exactly what it makes you,” his tone uncomfortably serious as opposed to his lighthearted one. “Any-fucking-ways,” he continued wanting a change of topic immediately, “that’s a pretty ballsy comment, I don’t know about a spine but maybe, just maybe you’ve got balls, are you trying to tell me something?” His head tilted as he arched an eyebrow, you don’t just say things like that, and Max himself knew first hand of things you just don’t say to other people, but he still pulled them out his arsenal constantly.
Studying his demeanor before he even said his answer gave him all the clarification he needed, “why did I even ask?” He chuckled shaking his head, choosing to ignore his question that followed with a swift flip of the bird. On second thought.... “if that was the case then you’d be on the thinnest of ice with us, you’d might as well parade around with Damian and the rest of the God Will Hate Me If I Get My Tiny Dick Wet Club,” he explained, he didn’t really have that snarky comment in his repertoire until it was nearly too late.
“See, was that so hard?” he asked as if it were the most difficult thing in the world to agree with him, even though it very well could’ve been. “Go watch it and send me a very detailed text of what you thought of it or you can be Sebastian’s bitch for a week,” he ordered, and this time in all seriousness too, Jonah might as well have let them tattoo pushover, doormat, or even little bitch on his forehead, maybe all of the above. “No, I’m being cautious and I don’t give a fuck... when they somehow all appear here in the middle of the night and kill us all, I’ll be screaming I told you so from hell.”
“I’m glad you know, and partially, the other half is just because torture and power over simpletons, much like yourself, is such a hard-on,” he stated as he didn’t turn around not once to face him, enforcing meaningless authority was Max’s favorite pastime, and for no reason at all honestly.
Finally arriving to his dorm room, Max swiftly opened the door stepping aside for Jonah, “ladies first, and don’t touch my shit.”
blame it on the lack of events she’s attended in her life, more specifically the introversion she’s clung to from the safety of her own home, but mariah found the party fun. she never thought she’d be able to put FUN and SCHOOL in the same sentence. then again she never thought she’d watch half-naked people jumping into a pool at broadripple. but even after the lecture and a half she received for hanging out with drunk teenagers (conveniently leaving out that she, too, had her fair share of alcoholic beverages) even her mom was surprised her daughter had a good time. topped off with i told you you would and i don’t want to hear about this again.
while the aftermath wasn’t ideal, she felt a wave of accomplishment to be one of the many forced to give back as punishment, happy to not be left out of this story. “ actually, it’s even more thrilling than that. i get to sort hand-me-downs.” she tried to make her words sound fascinating, as if sorting through thrifted fits was an absorbing hobby, but her features found no effort in pretending. “ i started a game in my head called guess the stain and if i ever find myself getting bored there is always a white trash bag filled with unwashed clothes stacked with dog hair just waiting for me. ” from what she knows of max - which isn’t much, don’t get her wrong - the kindliness of this conversation wasn’t going to last long. she represses the tiny part of her warning her to be a bitch before he could be an asshole. “ i wasn’t even aware this was legal. aren’t there laws preventing child labor? ”
“No fucking way blondie, I thought hand-me-downs were a myth,” he gasped as if it were the most shocking news he’d heard in all his privileged life. “But, I don’t care, you didn’t answer my questions, and that’s kinda way more important right now, so, did you enjoy the party?” His tone apologetic while there was no hint of an apology in his words whatsoever. Her next comment however, well it was an innuendo just waiting to escape Max’s turbulent mouth.
“Guess the stain? I could make that game about ten times easier for you, give me a good minute and I can put a new stain on your shirt, or your face, I’m not indifferent,” his ability to say the most atrocious things so casually was actually pretty alarming, especially with at the rate he was going too. “I don’t know, do I look like I’ve ever had a job before, or like... fought for child labor laws? Laundry duty can’t be that bad. Some of my guys are stuck with those said little bastards in training in Nighmore.” Any chance to let his pure dislike of that town show, he was going to express it. “Count your goodings, or however that saying goes.”
Oh shit.Jonah was frozen in place.Rational thoughts left his head and all that was left were hormones doing an erratic jig and making him lose the ability to think straight.All he could focus on was the fact that Max was uncomfortably close and was tracing a circle around his lower back.He bit his lip and tried to stay calm. It was just a joke.He was being fucked with , that was all.It was nothing to lose his head over.Then the smack that caused him to let out a shaky breath and come to his senses.”Err fuck you , man.I’ve got a spine.I’m not some weird floppy jelly man.”He was totally nailing this whole talking like a normal person and staying calm thing. “
The first Pirates Of The Caribbean was iconic.I can’t believe you haven’t seen it.”It was pitiful that that was one of the few issues Jonah was willing to stand firm on but he was raised on 00s Disney live action adventure films and was very passionate about them.National Treasure was an underrated gem.”You seem like the kind of guy that had a pirate phase as a kid.I’m shocked.”,he said with a confident nod.It made sense in his head.Max and ruthless criminals that stole treasure and marooned people as a punishment seemed to go together like peanut butter and jelly or Damian Fitzgerald and boring Powerpoints about pointless subject matter.”It’s not like you tried very hard to get other people to leave.”It would of been difficult to get anybody to leave when they were in the party zone but Jonah was too bitter to think rationally.He needed a reason to whine about picking up trash all afternoon.”If everybody thought they were hot shit you’d be out of a job.”He snorted at the mention of Max trying to get him laid.”Aww you’re my hero.Where would I be without you trying to get me laid?”,he inquired while ironically putting a hand on his heart.”
“That’s dumb.We’re not in some shitty horror movie.They’re probably normal kids that are super easy to entertain.”Jonah didn’t understand why some people were creeped out by Nightmore or hated it.To him it was just a regular sleepy small town where everybody was involved in each other’s business because there wasn’t anything else to do or a large pool of people to mingle with.”Wow sounds like you’re going to have some full afternoons.Enjoy all your stuff.”,he comment with a salute.
I’ve got a spine, caused him to burst out with a loud laughter, but he contained himself quickly. “Okay yeah man, did you leave it in your room or what?” A single curious left eyebrow rose as he questioned the pledge. “You could’ve fooled me, you’re like, a, uh...” his tongue running on his bottom lip as he sat in his thoughts for a few seconds, “something that has no fucking backbone whatsoever.” He concluded shrugging the situation off seamlessly.
“Jonah, dude I don’t give a fuck man,” he stated with a lighthearted chuckle as his lips curved into a smile, was he really about to try and give him a lecture about Disney? “No, I went straight to the devilishly handsome son of a bitch we know and love today.” It was, but way too true, as many already knew.
The next comment summoned a thought in Max’s head because honestly where would he be? “Somewhere jacking off to like, furry porn or something like that, you seem like the type to be honest, anime too.” Could he (or any other BBC member) make it through any conversation without referencing porn or masturbation? “I’m pretty sure you’re getting tired of your hand man.” He examined the boy and his demeanor one more time, “are you a virgin?”
The Chastity Club (how in thee fuck was that still a thing by the way) was in desperate need of members, Jonah could fit right in, as far as Max was concerned. “Children of The Corn is a fucking classic,” not a classic, a fucking classic. “You will not disrespect it in my presence,” he continued,“ and Nighmore is a fucking creep-show, nobody, and I mean nobody is that nice, especially if you all know each other, somethings up and I do not care to find out.” By then all his clean clothes were gathered in a basket waiting to be folded, and not by himself. “Anyway,” a long winded sigh escaping him, he did the bare minimum as he practically tossed the clothes basket into Jonah’s arms he made his exit from the laundry room. “Are you coming or are you just going to stand there?”
Poppy rolled her eyes. She had, on more than one occasion, seriously considered starting a black market for her nudes with how often she had boys at this school sharing their sexual fantasies about her, to her. Like an unsolicited dick pic, they were always a letdown: sad, disappointing, and not up to her meticulous standards.
“First of all,” she said, “running out of mixers halfway through the evening shows poor planning. You should never expect your guests to default to Coors Lights – like what is this, a fucking tailgate? Unless you’re a psychopath or Russian, nobody is drinking vodka straight from the bottle.” Poppy paused, in case he needed a moment to take notes. “Second pointer, you need a DJ. I don’t care if it’s your weird cousin with a Soundcloud and a Macbook, the last thing I want to hear is your Spotify playlist. The last thing anyone wants to hear is your Spotify playlist. You have the money to pay someone who knows what the fuck people dance to, so use it.”
The Broadripple Boys Club had rare advantages most high school students didn’t. They didn’t live at home, they were hella loaded, and had an empty barn to do literally whatever the fuck they wanted with. Not going all out for every party was never an option. “You’ll never last a day past initiation in a real fraternity if that’s what you think a banger is. It’s time to make like Steve Carell and get smart before you crash and burn at seventeen.”
"Right,” he said, his tone dragging as he did so. She talked, a lot too. “Uh huh, yeah, duly noted.” All he offered was a quick nod of the head. He changed his mind, immediately. She talked, a lot too, you know how some people just loved hearing the sound of their own voice? That was Poppy, to an extreme in Max’s opinion.
What a raging bitch, his inner thoughts shouted at the top of their lungs, but Max knew the type all too well, that was going to serve as nothing short of a compliment to his fellow housemate. “Well look, my super sweet sixteen, half of that shit is not going to slide so well trying to sneak it into the pool , which, oh no get this,” he hesitated, rather sarcastically, as if the answer was obvious, “that’s why we have a barn out in the middle of nowhere,” he stated simply. He was all for taking risks, his reputation preceded him definitely, but some shit just wasn’t worth risking.
“So,” he dragged on the vowels once again while gathering the last of his things. “Are you really going to sit there and go through who knows how many premature cumrag clothing, or are we going to talk smart party planning and remember where the fuck we are?” He quizzed, turning on his heel, sauntering out of the laundry area before turning back once again, “and by the way, my Apple Music playlist is fucking impeccable, if ass isn’t shaking it’s not my fault.”
He’s toxic. His smile will poison you. His boyish charm dangerous. The glint in his eyes as he challenges you to do something devious is lethal.
1. Full Name? Maximilian Asmodeus ( yes what the fuck were Mr. and Mrs. Perry thinking ) Perry.
2. Preferred Names or Nicknames? Max. He absolutely refuses anyone to use his full name. His mother called him Maxi.
3. What does their name mean? Does it have any significance in their family? Do they like their name? Maximilian means “the greatest”, which goes well with his personality. It doesn’t have much significance other than the fact that his parents liked it. His middle name too, ‘till this day people are convinced no one knew it was the name of a literal Prince of Hell.
4. Age and Date of Birth? 18. October 21, 2001. He’s a Libra.
5. Gender and Pronouns? Cisgender Male. He/him.
6. Hometown? Boston, Massachusetts.
7. Does your character fit into any well known archetypes or tropes? A few actually. He fits into The Ruler archetype, and the Ambition Is Evil, The Leader, Really Gets Around, Daddy Issues, just like major antagonist vibes, an evil motherfucker from hell who happens to lead the future frat boys of America.
8. How long have they been at Broadripple? He has been at Broadripple for exactly four years.
9. What led them to apply to Broadripple? Was it a decision made by them or by their parents/guardians or somewhere in between? Both his parents are Massachusetts natives, and attended Broadripple, it was a birthright, his parents decided that’s where he’d be attending as soon as they found out his mother was pregnant.
10. Whether they’ve been at Broadripple four days or four years, do they enjoy it? Do they like Broadripple? He has a love/hate relationship with the academy. Its became his playground throughout his teenage years, and no doubt had a big impact on him, his stomping grounds if you will. He’s found numerous ways to make his time their enjoyable all his own, and with the Broadripple Boys Club. However, for a schemer like him all the rules and regulations that come with such a prestigious school put an abundance of roadblocks in the way of his ideas of fun.
11. What house are they in? Do they care very much about their house? Fenwick! Again, the house of both his parents, again, he does care, but he doesn’t, all his antics, schemes, and overall demeanor does the house zero justice, however, he loves the sense of camaraderie, even if he and others are aware he is definitely the bad apple of the bunch.
12. Who do they share a dorm with, or are they on their own for the moment? What are they like to live with? Are they clean or messy? Early risers or night owls? TBD. Max is an absolute pain to live with, he’s bossy, complains a lot, he never quite got used to sharing a smaller space, let alone not having his own room, and he hates daylight, blackout curtains are a must in the room, he constantly complains about how he doesn’t have enough space for his clothes and shoes (although he has way too many in his possession) he’s still found a way to be surprisingly well organized. A total night-owl, he gets about three or four hours of sleep a night, and absolutely dreads mornings, especially waking up.
13. How is your character’s dorm decorated? Is it bare or bursting at the seems with personality? Any particular sentimental items from home? Bursting with personality, loads of it. A few photos of him and his mom, family photos, with devil horns, and a mustache playfully drawn on his fathers face. A custom made “Saturdays Are for the (Broadripple) Boys” flag on the side of his bed he was gifted, a few artificial plants, and all black sleek, modern decor.
14. What is their favourite subject at school? Do they even have a favourite? Why? He absolutely hates school, but he will never give anyone any reason to doubt his (limited) book smarts, creative writing is his favorite. He loves being given prompts and thinking outside the box when responding to them, or even making short stories all his own. But that’s lame and for pussies, creativity? Don’t know her, just put my A in the gradebook and throw the paper away, shred it, and then burn the shredder.
15. Are they involved in any clubs? Which ones? Only the agriculture club. His mother was an environmental politician, and a part-time florist with a natural green thumb, that of which she passed down to him. So, “why the fuck not.” He obviously gets a lot of shit from the bros about it but he always hits them with this, or a total punch in the face ( as brothers. )
16. How does your character feel about Broadripple’s Unofficial Clubs? Do they know about them? Are they a part of any of them? As opposed to the Boys club, obvy, he thinks the others are complete jokes. The Chastity Club (God Squad, Virgins R’ Us), and Broadripple Unsolved (Scooby Gang, The Goonies, Nancy Drew Crew) are the butt of many of his jokes, Chastity more so the other, because just, why?
17. Does your character participate in any sports? If so, what made them join the team? Swimming. He liked the uniform, it looked fun, so he went for it. Not to mention his father made him do something, he’s done it since freshman year and surprisingly grew fond of it.
18. What afternoon activities does your character do? Do they just do the one mandatory one or are they involved in multiple? Why? Just the mandatory one, volunteering at the animal shelter, simply because he’s an animal guy. He actually got his kitten from the animal shelter his junior year.
19. Do they miss their home when they’re at Broadripple? Do they often go home for the weekends or do they only go home during holiday breaks? Constantly. But only for Jingles ( the kitten we spoke about above ), and his room, aka his evil lair, and his one true escape. A big empty house with just his father isn’t his cup of tea, it hasn’t really even felt like a home anyway since his mother died. He goes home every other weekend, unless there’s a party going on that he’s throwing, or a field trip.
20. Did your character know Izzy De Santis or Maggie Monroe? He did, granted not very well, he’d had classes with both, and minimal interaction with the two.
21. Has your character heard of Edith Lynch? Do they know the story? Yes. Both his parents were attending when the incident happened and he constantly got told the story, no lie, it creeps him out to the max ( ba dum tisss) , and he immediately wants to change the subject when it comes up.
22. How does your character feel about Nighmore? Have they noticed the recently closed shops yet? Hates it. A strong word, but he steers clear usually, he doesn’t like what he doesn’t understand and refuses to go into town unless he absolutely needs to, so he definitely hasn’t noticed the shops.
23. Have you made any aesthetic Pinterest boards/WeHeartIt collections for this character? Or playlists? Anything you would like to share! Yes! Right HERE please feel free to follow! ( fun fact: his name was originally maximilianus but that changed, quick lol )
