#the neighborhood was bumpin. absolutely off the shits. wild fuckin night

[uniformbravo]

it's nanowrimo & i havent touched my wip since last year so im gonna reread it all rn to jog my memory lets goooo

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"And so, class, as you can see, blah blah blah…"

Silan wasn't listening, so neither should you have to.

i didn't know how to start it skjfdkngkf

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goes on for several paragraphs about why he wasnt paying attention, making up a bunch of bullshit about him being sooooo sleeby bc he watched a horror movie last night & then couldn't sleep, fascinating stuff

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So no, he wasn't listening to the lesson going on at the front of the room, nor was he prepared in the very least to be called on suddenly.

"Silan, what's your answer to number fifteen?"

Like a bucket of ice water was sitting upright on the ground beside him instead of upturned over his head, Silan's brain fog persisted as he struggled to catch up with the moment.

ok fine the ice bucket line is kinda funny im here to subvert ur expectations not unlike a mime thats allowed to say fuck

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"Y equals seven…?" he guessed, understanding completely as he said it that it definitely would have been better to just say "I don't know," or "Could you repeat that?" or even "Sorry, I didn't sleep well because I watched a horror movie before bed and was too scared to fall asleep for hours and now I can't focus because I'm so tired, so I honestly have no idea what's going on right now."

As it was, his actual answer garnered a few laughs scattered around the room, from people who'd given Silan way too much credit and assumed it was a very intentional joke. He couldn't look his teacher in the eye, that knowing gaze piercing right through him as if to say, "You may have fooled them, but not me. I know that was a real attempt at an answer, and I am disappointed in you on multiple levels. I'll see you in my office and also you have detention forever."

What he actually said was, "Mr. Scott, this is a Biology class."

CHRIST i take it back im a comedic genius

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Chris is A Dude in Silan's class, but he's so much more than that; sports ball player man, wearer of varsity jackets and knee-length shorts of all varieties, copier of his friends' homework whenever one of them has actually done it on time… He truly is just Some Guy, but to Silan? He is The Guy.

WHAT are u fuckin TALKING ABOUT HELLO

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If Silan himself were to be the one to describe Chris, that paragraph would have probably gone a lot more like: Chris is on the baseball team, so he's fairly muscular; he has a sharp, square jaw and dark brown hair that's not quite long enough to submit to gravity just yet, so it sticks up and looks just sooo fluffy and soft (do you think he lets anyone touch it?). He's never actually grown a beard but he does have stubble across his chin and jaw that suits him extremely well. His eyes are brown and his skin is a natural tan and it all suits him perfectly and he's hot okay. He's hot.

Silan is gay.

and he is being sooo normal about chris

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They'd only ever spoken a total of two times; once when Chris had gotten the rows confused on a day he'd seemed particularly groggy (this class ran from 10:45 to 12:15 and was the one right before lunch, though, so it was beyond Silan what exactly had put him in such a state) ((I'm the author though, so I know exactly what it was, and it's that he'd been out nearly all night with his friends to the subsequent dismay and rage of his parents, and his request to stay home from school the next day was vehemently denied)),

this is fucking unhinged. publish me right now

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That had been just a few weeks ago; the other time was last year (junior year, or 11th grade, or year 3 out of 4 of high school, whatever makes the most sense to those unacquainted with the American school system) in April and I will tell you more about it later.

FUCKING HELLO

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It was the urge to doodle their initials in a heart together in the margins of his notebook like… like some kind of lovesick middle schooler (not that. He'd ever done that. In middle school,).

silan would never

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The combination made him want to launch himself directly out the window, had one existed (the only windows were over by the door, which Silan sat pretty much across the room from).

He was kinda fucked.

tfw u cant throw urself out the window bc of ur school's evil fucked up floor plan

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Rhoden, while still fairly small for his age, definitely isn't the same kid Silan met back then. There's a maturity to his jaw, his brow, that he's really come into since, and his voice has deepened considerably; anyone who might still initially mistake him for a much younger boy would be instantly enlightened the second he opened his mouth. And then they'd have to figure out how to politely decline a spontaneous interview proposal from a guy they'd thought was twelve two seconds ago.

when u get within a certain radius of him a giant health bar appears at the top of the screen & boss music starts playing

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Today, though, was a photography day.

They were always Silan's favorites. He did enjoy his other tasks, in general, but none of them were as fun or freeing as photography.

It made him look at the world around him differently. Taking such a wide expanse of possibility and narrowing it down to that one perfect shot; knowing where to look and how to find potential. It was capturing a moment, but not just that; it was turning a moment, even the smallest, mundanest occurrence, into something timeless- into something special.

(And, of course, there were other perks to the job, but we'll get to those later.)

i am 100% certain said "perks" are getting to Observe chris at baseball practice which is a very funny juxtaposition to the previous paragraph

"photography is a timeless art form, truly nothing as magical or poignant could ever exist.... also i get to look at hot boys cha-CHING"

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"Silan," she called out now in lieu of a team name, since the work of a photographer was mostly individual.

"I'm, uh, shooting baseball practice today."

😏

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A few short minutes later, Silan was signing off for the club's camera, which he needed permission for every time. This was one of Mrs. Springet's few roles as an advisor, to make sure the camera wasn't being stolen. It was a nice camera, to be fair.

Oh To Steal The Journalism Club's Nice Camera

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While Chaulden High did have a football team, the undisputed star of the show was the baseball team; with a coach that led them to victory time and time again, it wasn't hard to see why.

As such, the New Moon always made sure to leave room for a section on the team, even going as far as establishing a series they ran every year called "Dug-Ins & Outs," in which various members of the team were interviewed.

ok still proud of that title TBH

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Which meant Silan was often sent to obtain shots of the team, which was no problem. Less than no problem. He was pretty fine with it, actually. Perhaps even looked forward to it, some might say.

Because Silan was definitely interested in the team, as a whole, all twenty-six members. All of them, and not a single one more than the rest. He would never single a specific member out to accidentally focus 90% of his attention on. That would be ridiculous, and highly unprofessional of him. Perish the thought.

…

So uh. Chris is on the baseball team,

cups hands around mouth fucken NERD

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The coach, Mr. Wendell, stood with a clipboard tucked under his arm by the dugout, clapping and calling out to members who were lagging behind in the group of joggers. He always made Silan nervous, if he were honest. He was something of a hardass, with high expectations for his team and a grueling training regimen he held them all to. He had a loud voice and a firm handshake, was broad shouldered and tall, and if Silan weren't so intimidated by him he might even find him [REDACTED].

OK ALRIGHT CALM DOWN THERE BUDDY

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CRASH!

Just as he clicked the shutter the chain-link fence behind him exploded into sound and he jumped violently, sending all of the birds flying. Heart pounding, he sat up and turned around to figure out what the hell that was.

On the other side of the fence was one of the team members leaning down to scoop up the offending ball as the coach's voice echoed across the field, "Stop fucking around, Neely!"

fucking Neely

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It took him a good five or six more minutes to calm down, sitting there in the grass and pretending to flip through photos on his camera. This time he made sure to face the fence to avoid a repeat scenario- because of course, Silan was known to have the reflexes of a tiger and wouldn't even flinch were another ball to come hurling at the fence.

jotting this down in my Extremely True Silan Facts notebook

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He sat on the very top row and zoomed in on the players, scattered across the field. The fence still sat between him and the rest of them, reaching high for maximum audience-shielding ability, so he decided to see how many of the players' heads he could frame perfectly within the open links in a single shot.

His average came out to about four, mostly because it was basically impossible to keep track of any more than that at once, but he did manage to get one with six on accident, so that was pretty neat. It didn't help that they were all constantly moving around- Silan probably would have had more luck trying this with the birds.

He spent about another twenty minutes doing this, occasionally moving to other parts of the bleachers for different angles to see if they made any difference (they didn't; the lower he went the wider the holes got but also the closer together the player's heads became, so it balanced out), before the main event, as far as he was concerned, finally began: batting.

silan: boy oh boy i can't wait to take pictures of the baseball team!!!

also silan: does this bullshit

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Everyone knew baseball players looked coolest and most iconic when at bat, and anyone who disagreed was simply wrong (second best was pitching, third was sliding). Silan's opinion on this was in no way swayed by visuals of Chris that may or may not have been burned into his memory.

Evidence:

[three pictures of a batter, a pitcher, and a sliding athlete respectively side-by-side, the batter obviously being the coolest most hyped up one with dynamic lighting and stuff, whereas the pitcher and the slider are intentionally lame, like cheap-looking clip art or pictures where they're making really ugly faces]

im gonna lose my fuckin shit (no theres no actual pictures this was just a place holder for when i eventually found & inserted them which i was absolutely planning on doing)

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He stayed on the other side of the fence, lest a stray ball hit him (or worse, the camera)

TRU

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He was tall (he had several inches on Silan and a good few on Chris), and he was slender and lean and really quite handsome in general. His thick, curly black hair was neatly shaved close to his head and the corners of his jaw were pleasantly pronounced.

Not that Silan could see any of that from this distance, especially with the helmet obscuring most of it. But as a member of the newspaper club these were things he had to know. For professional reasons.

i believe him

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He should have been adjusting his position to line up the perfect shot, but it was hard not to watch as Chris rose up on one foot, twisting his torso with his arms raised and clutching the ball- then sprung into action by slamming his foot back down into the dirt and following the momentum with his upper body, arm arcing into a powerful throw. A split second after Silan saw the ball hit the backboard he heard the noise, a loud, solid smack!

God. God.

SCREAMS ALRIGHT SILAN CALM DOWN FKFSKGNKSDJFKD

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"Make sure you're getting my good side, yeah?" He joked, grinning and striking a stupid pose.

silan watching chris: beautiful. flawless. show stopping. groundbreaking. so so hot and sexy hehehauhaoehemeheuenana

silan watching lucas: clown ass motherfucker striking his goofy ass POSE what an idiot 000/10

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"Yo," Devon greeted as he pulled himself to his feet, flashing his hand in a pseudo wave.

"H-hi," Silan answered haltingly, heart beating a little fast from the maneuver he'd just had to pull. Devon offered what Silan could only describe as a dashing grin before turning his attention back towards home.

hee hee hee hiiiiiii devonnnn *twirls hair* (silan impression)

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They rarely talked but Devon had always come off as a nice guy with a friendly vibe. He'd certainly never referred to the newspaper club as Mooners- not that Silan had heard, anyway. Though it wouldn't be such a big deal if he did, since the nickname was pretty widespread at this point. But it was nice that he didn't.

Also, he really was quite handsome.

this would have been a very different story had silan gone for devon instead of chris, devon would NEVER pull the shit chris is about to pull in this story fksndkjfdkjg he doesn't even call them mooners 😭

(school newspaper is called the new moon so people call the club members new mooners, an extremely clever & funny joke that i came up with myself)

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(ok context, silan was gonna take a pic of chris sliding (the team's doing this whole exercise where they alternate from pitching to hitting to sliding) but bc he was so focused on getting the shot he didn't realize the ball was headed right for him so chris collided w him trying to intercept it)

Silan turned around, seeing the coach standing with his arms crossed as Chris examined his elbow. He looked up when Silan moved.

"Thank Christ. That was stupid as hell, you both could've gotten way more hurt." He hadn't even checked if Silan had been injured. "Jumping over another guy like that. We're not a goddamn gymnastics routine."

"But I caught the ball," Chris grinned, holding it up and waggling it around. Silan immediately had to stop himself from asking if he could have it.

LMAO SILAN???????????? DOWN SO FUCKING BAD

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As he walked off herding the team away, Chris stepped closer to Silan, instantly setting his heartbeat into overdrive, more than it already was.

"Your shoulder okay?" he asked with a gesture towards the shoulder in question, and Silan just about passed away on the spot.

when he checks if ur ok after he ran u the fuck over 😍😍😍

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Then he looked to the left, in the direction Chris had tossed the ball just a minute ago, at the spot in the grass it had rolled to a stop.

The backboard of the catcher's box announced another missed swing, and Silan picked up the ball, examining it.

The object that had ruined his perfect shot. That had come careening directly towards Silan's head (or worse, the camera). That had resulted in the disastrous collision and subsequent injuries of Chris and Silan. That had wasted precious minutes of Coach Wendell's perfectly scheduled practice regimen.

He tucked it neatly away into his hoodie's front pocket and took a seat on the grass right where it had been.

STOLE THE FUCKING BASEBALL this is unhinged behavior and also exactly the kinda shit i would've pulled in high school 10/10

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uhhhhhh that was chapter 1 and i feel i should perhaps stop here for now since this is getting like way longer than i thought it would lfksndlfmdkgj the whole thing is like. 30k ish words? i feel like i wrote about 3 or 4 chapters

i like. shoulda done this shit a few days ago so i could start writing again today (the 1st) but i was too busy drawing heehee uhhh whoopsieee >w<

its ok its fine this year i will make it to 50k easy peasy dont even worry abt it ;3 i will definitely not go back to drawing today that would be sooooooo silly and goofy of me hahaha :)