#we were literally all just talking about a trip the senior class goes on
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myfairkatiecat · 8 months ago
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not my friends being 400x less supportive about me being Christian than I am about them being atheist
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blissfulparker · 4 years ago
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Seasick pt. 10 final→college!peter parker
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Pairings→college!peter x reader fake dating!au
Summary→ You need a fake boyfriend, peter has no plans for the summer, you take him on a cruise to meet your nasty family you kept a secret all these years. Faking your love as far as it will go before it snaps and it shows it’s true colors to one another under the burning hot sun and above the salty sea water
A/n→yeah so y’all can shut talk me for this taking literally FOREVER but I kept wanting to redo it and I finally found the perfect final for it(at least for me) I’m going to make the epilogue and if anyone wants blurbs based off it I can write it. But I present to you, the seasick final
Peter Parker slept like an Angel and you had never truly noticed until now. He had soft snores and little freckles painted on his face and he was yours, now he was officially yours and all it took was you begging him to come on a stupid cruise with your family you hate.
Although you wouldn’t mind if year after year you were able to bring peter along with you. He helped with the pain and god did you need all the help you could get.
“What are you doing?” He mumbles as he starts to wake up, not opening his eyes but his senses catch you staring.
“Nothing.” You smile as you only stare harder to count each freckle—even the new ones he got from this trip.
“No you’re doing something.” He opens his eyes just a bit to see you with the faintest smile on your face. You, the one who woke up every day of this trip dreading what another day would be like, smiled at him. A genuine smile as you woke up.
“Seriously, nothing!” You try to hide the smile that grows big on your face and he only grabs you by the waist, pulling you in close so he can tickle at your sides just to see you smile more.
He lets your laughs die down, seeing the real you in the morning was something so fresh to him, he loved it. You were his girlfriend. He couldn’t wait to go home and start saying that to people. After all these years all it took was a stupid cruise.
“It’s our last day.” Peter says and suddenly your smile dropped. Not because you were sad, because it was your last day and that meant having to spend it with your family.
“Right.” You sigh falling back on the pillow.
Peter looked at you like you were art, or maybe he looked at you the way he looked at the beach the other day, maybe he looked at you the way he saw you in the art gallery the second day or maybe he looked at you the way he looked at you the first day he got on this damn ship and you wore the most beautiful dress and worried about how tall you were. No matter how he looked at you it was just you, you who matter the most to him in this moment and truly every moment before.
“For as much as you hate this family, I actually kinda liked this trip.” That was particularly true, he hated being uncomfortable at dinner and your mom dropping off condoms but he was on a cruise for fucks sake and it was free.
“Peter, when was the last time you even had a vacation?” You looked over at him. Realizing your words were much harsher, you took a step back. “Sorry, I’m still...I’m still trying to get use to everything.” You admitted and he nodded.
“It’s okay,” he only planted a kiss on your cheek before sitting up. “I know.”
He sits up at the edge of the bed. Stretching a bit giving you a full view of his bare back, so toned and smooth, you really wanted to know when he got so ripped but that was a question for later. All you could do now was feel your hand move to run over the smooth of his back. You sit up as well, letting yourself sit before his back and press sweet kisses gently at his shoulders.
“Y-Your mom.” Was what he said as you kissed him. “She wants to have lunch.” He already saw the messages, last night when you were fast asleep. Face puffy from crying, he held onto you but his phone lit up with one message from your mom. The number she got from him at the beginning of this trip where you swore it would make everything more realistic to pretend you cared.
“Just tell her we’re busy.” You continue kissing at his sunburnt shoulders and in a way it hurt but felt so good to him.
He couldn’t change anything, what you had grown up with was irreversible. But peter had seen the real you, known the real you to be beyond what your family was. He knew you would be opposed to what he was going to tell you but he only wanted to help you.
“With just me.” He turned his head and you stopped your movements.
“Just you?” You furrow your brows and he nodded.
“Yeah, just me.” He sighed and you sat back a bit on the bed.
“Just tell her we already have—“ you started but peter shook his head.
“I think I should go. I-I know I can’t change anything but at least I can—“ he starts and you feel your heart race and your blood burn.
“You're right Peter, you can’t change anything. She’s an evil woman and I thought you would already have figured that out by now. Your smart, you should be smart enough to know that she doesn’t want to fix anything. When we go back in New York everything will be the same.” You fell back against the headboard and peter turned fully to you.
“But everything won’t be the same, at least we won’t be the same!” He told you and you looked at him quickly with a sigh.
“Peter I didn’t mean that way and you know it.” You feel your hands run over your face before you grab your water.
“I’m having lunch with your mother.” He said. He marked his words in the moment and you knew Peter could be stubborn and this was one of those moments.
“Peter…” you want to fight but your hand goes over the bracelet you both got the other day from the locals down by the beach. You remember as a kid, you wished one day it would be you getting those bracelets even if it was just a few pieces of string tied together. Those kids were always harmless and knew love when they saw it, maybe you and peter were still faking it in the moment but they saw more than the two of you ever did. “Just hold me.” You almost whisper and he looks at you with pain in his eyes.
“Hold me like you did in the ocean the other day.” You look up with water in your eyes and he does. His arms come around your back and he holds you as if you two were still in the ocean as if nothing else mattered in the world to you two.
-
You dressed Peter for lunch. You had torn apart his suitcase telling him that if he was going out there alone he needed to be prepared. For it was your mother, One may argue Thor’s evil brother was nicer than her.
So Peter tugged a bit at the buttons and waited near the entrance for your mother to arrive. He had fought aliens, witches, and even drones over one summer but feared a tiny old women who was the mother of his girlfriend.
When she arrived she greeted him with a hug, a tight one that made him gasp for air when she pulled away and she left her glossy lip print on his cheek.
Peter wished you were here, honestly he did. Your mother was beautiful on the outside but he did see the inside. So when she ordered him a wine he swallowed hard and gave a tight lipped smile thinking of what you would do.
“Thank you for inviting me on this trip.” He started it off and your mother only drank from the glass of her wine.
“We can all thank (y/n) for inviting you.” She smiled but she knew something more. “When you two first arrived I always found it interesting how she told me a different story on the phone for how you fell in love but Europe huh? She loved that trip, until of course everything turned bad.” Your mother explained and Peter felt his heart flip.
“She says senior year chem class and I say Europe, she counts from when we first started talking I count our first date.” Peter chuckles.
“Peter, I’m a lawyer, I know when even the best liars are lying to me and you and my daughter are both extremely intelligent. So let’s just tell the truth, why did she invite you? Why did she tell me she had a boyfriend on the phone? I see you two do have something but it’s almost like you don’t want it, neither of you.” She for once had a soft voice. Peter for once drank alcohol on this trip to sooth his nerves but sadly the spider venom in his blood prevented him from ever being calm.
“I-we-“ he couldn’t think of anything else, he could only think of you sitting back at the hotel laying in the bath enjoying the last moments on this trip with someone you actually loved. “She loves you a lot.” He said flatly.
“Look,” he started. “Everything she has ever done in her entire life was to impress you. Every award, every medal, every achievement she’s made was in hopes to impress you weather it was through her intelligence or through how athletic she was and now it was through love. It was like i was her last hope, but you missed out so much on her life. I say that in the best way. MJ, Betty, Ned and I all showed her what it’s like to be loved and maybe that’s why she ran to us more but she also knew it was never enough for you. I had never seen her so scared, so alone when she brought me on this trip. And I don’t know if it’s just me but she’s already the perfect person in every single way. She doesn’t know what more you want, I don’t know what more you want.” Peter finished his rant, his heart pounding and his cheeks a bit red.
“For me? Everything she had ever done was for me?” Your mother asked as if she learnt this for the first time.
“Yes, and every time you never paid attention and that broke her a bit more.” The more peter talked the more Peter hurt.
“Peter, can I tell you something?” She folded her hands and leant in. “You’re a smart, charming man. My daughter is a smart and charming lady. I don’t know if this entire time you two were really faking it, I could tell at first, trust me everyone could, but I want you to know she never smiled this much on this trip ever. And I don’t know what I’m doing so wrong when I try—“ peter felt his blood boil a bit at the last sentence.
“Be her mother, not her best friend. She wants a mother. She has MJ as a best friend who sometimes acts like more of a mother to her than you and (y/n) is three months older than MJ.” Peter didn’t break the stare as your mom looked at him in shock.
“All I want, because she will hate me more if I argue, is that you make her happy.” She sighed. Peter nodded.
The two of them are in silence, the last day on the cruise and peter was eating in silence with your mother after practically telling her how shitty she was.
After the check and your mothers hug goodbye, peter was back walking up to your room. Hoping he wouldn’t see anything more as he just wanted to relax. Maybe today he’d finally get that mug for May that he lied about but god felt so guilty. He lied about bigger things but the ones he loved...he had no idea how you did it. But you never lied to Peter, keeping him from the truth and lying were different.
“And he’s a really good kisser…” he stopped before he opened the door. He could hear you giggling on the phone with who he assumed MJ and Betty but more likely Betty.
“I just...I don’t know if I deserve him, I mean...he’s so kind and sweet and he’s peter.” There was a pause as Peter listened. “No flaws, he’s a shitty painter but I think it’s cute.” You giggled before taking a deep breath. He couldn’t hear the words on the other side before he heard you speak your goodbyes and ‘I love yous’ to them.
He waits until you seem to be settled down, he opens the door and reveals you on the floor painting your toes.
“Hey,” you look up at him with a smile. “How was lunch with my mom?” You asked and he only shrugged. Something washed over him and compelled him to sit next to you and kiss your cheek.
“Was fine, I drank a lot of wine but it was fine.” He shrugged and you looked up with a smirk.
“So I’m getting drunk Peter right now?” You teased and he shook his head.
“No, no.” He watched as you painted with the color blue. “She said she’s proud of you.” He admits. Never directly did she say the words but he knew deep down she wanted to but didn’t know how.
You look at him with a stare, knowing he was lying but he was trying for you.
With the silence in the room, peter gets up from his spot and walks over to pack some of the last of his things. By tomorrow morning you would say your goodbyes to your family and head back to New York. Back to your friends and family. You would stay with MJ for the summer but hopefully, with the new relationship, peter could convince you to stay with him and May.
“Hey Peter,” you look over your shoulder. “Thank you.” You tell him. Not sure if you ever told him thank you before this.
“For what?” He folds some of his clothes and puts them back into the suitcase.
“For everything.” You smile before going back to painting your toes.
Peter has a small smile. He nods as he throws the shirt into the suitcase.
“(Y/n)?” He calls to you this time. “Thank you for choosing me. To bring on this trip I mean.” He says awkwardly and you smiled.
“This was just year one Parker, get ready for the next couple ones!” You pretend to be enthusiastic but he only laughs. “Sorry we never got to do anything you wanted to do.” You apologized as you stood up. Looking down at the red painted toes and being careful to let them dry.
“No we did.” He smiled and you furrow your brows.
“Like what?”
“I was with you, that was something I wanted to do.” He was a dork in the best ways. He was your dork in the best of ways. You don’t think you had given this many genuine smiles while on this cruise ever.
“Hey,” you poked his shoulder. He hissed a bit as his sunburn still was there. “We can technically go to the couples pool, they’ll give us free chocolate strawberries. You wanna go?” You offer with a smirk. With all the things you’ve done pretending to be a couple this would be the first real couple thing you did.
“Hell yeah!” He says with a laugh and you do too.
So you get on your bathing suits one last time. One last time on this damned cruise would you put on your bathing suit and actually smile. Not drinking the last of your night away alone in your room.
Peter's arm snaked around your waist as you two walked down the hallway. Sharing laughs and you leaning against his shoulder as you two made your way to the pool where you would sit in a hot tube while eating cheap chocolate strawberries and drinking shitty wine.
While the bubbles roam around you in the hot tub and you and peter finally settle down with your laughs he only stares into your eyes.
“Hey.” Was all he said and you felt yourself feeling shy in front of him.
“Hi.” You said back and his lips connected with yours.
For a week straight of lying, tears and alcohol, and a shit ton of secrets getting exposed to each other. You and Peter made a pretty good couple. A couple that didn’t need to be faked anymore even if it made everyone sick, you found your love in the sea. You found him and he was perfect.
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lavenderbexlatte · 4 years ago
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office hours
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nct 1.8k words gender-neutral reader insert Reader x Qian Kun SUGGESTIVE/NSFW
🖤 warnings: vaguely inappropriate work relationships, kissing n’ touching, a boner 🖤
connect with me! / masterlist
“Any final questions before I let you go?”
You glance out over your small class of undergraduate seniors, anticipating the usual last-minute queries about due dates for next week or term definitions from your lecture today. These students are pretty bright, all things considered, and extremely attentive even though your senior seminar class meets in the morning.
That’s why the question that one of your back-row girls asks bowls you over as much as it does.
“Doc, do you think Professor Qian is cute?”
“Professor Qian? In the music department?” you ask, trying to hide how flustered you are.
“Yeah. D’you think he’s hot?” the girl repeats, grinning as she shoves her notebook into her bag without breaking eye contact with you.
“I guess…I’ve never really thought about it,” you say honestly.
The girl hums. “Well, I think he’s pretty hot.”
You get the feeling that she’s got an agenda, a feeling that’s only solidified when you see a few of your other students struggling to hold back laughter and smiling into their books. This is not gonna fly. They can’t make things weird for you, these little punks.
“Any other final questions?” you ask, “About the material?”
Heads shake around the room.
“Okay. Go home, and you better have your summaries to me by Sunday night!”
The students pick up their bags and their books and their Hydroflasks, and they leave the room in their ones and twos. As the last one bids you goodbye, and you’re left alone with your notes again, you sincerely hope to yourself that this isn’t going to become…a thing. These kids (young adults, actual grown adults, though you always think of them as kids) are far too old to be pulling shit like this on you.
Truly, deeply, sincerely, you hope that your 22-year-old student is not planning on trying to bag the music professor. That would be way too much trouble to have on your radar.
You sling the last of your class materials into your bag, and head for your usual stop after your ten o’clock class: the nearest dining hall. The school gives you free lunches on the days that you teach, so you might as well take advantage.
One trip through the buffet-style lines later, you’re balancing your full plate as you scan the room for an open table. The only one you can spot, however, is right next to a group of students, and holding court is none other than your senior girl with the apparent penchant for older men.
“-like a fucking idiot!” you hear one of the other students laughing, “He’s faculty. He’ll get fired.”
“Only if I snitch,” your student is saying.
“Or if literally anyone finds out,” says another one.
“No one would find out. No one would care,” your student dismisses. “Unless they’re in the music department, no one even knows who Qian is.”
So she’s really trying to fuck Qian Kun, huh?
It’s none of your business, really. But if this actually happens, and it even gets out that you knew and said nothing, it’ll be your ass on the line, too. And you’re really not one to fight important shit like Title IX. But the girls at the next table aren’t letting up, the conversation turning more and more raunchy and giving you a growing desire to plug yours ears with the shitty cafeteria napkins for some sense of deniability.
You stab at your meal, annoyed at the position that you’re in now, the liability you hold. Fuck.
You’re gonna have to go see this other professor, and head off this mess before it begins.
---------------
It’s rare that you’re on campus in any place but your own department, but you find yourself in the music building later that evening. You’d done a quick snoop on the faculty page and found Professor Qian’s office hours, and decided that sooner is better. If you can get to him before your (admittedly pretty and fit and 22) student does, then maybe you can spare everyone the headache.
His office is tucked at the end of the hall, farthest from the doors into the building. Lucky him, you think. Your own tiny office is smack in the middle, with essentially no privacy as other faculty and students come and go all day long. The door is shut when you reach it, but the light inside is on, so you knock.
“Just a sec!”
You oblige, waiting and praying to anyone who’ll listen that you’re not about to see a very familiar coed behind this door.
But no. When finally, the door opens, all you see is Professor Qian.
He’s not someone you know well, or someone you see often, and maybe that’s why you spend such an awkward amount of time just looking at him. Your first extremely stupid thought is that your student is kind of right: he’s cute. Thick brown hair, neat eyebrows, a jawline that makes him look like a goddamn marble sculpture…
“Can I help you?” he asks.
You nod, mentally kicking yourself for being weird. “Yeah, hi. Can I come in?”
Qian Kun gives you a brilliant gentle smile that reveals deep dimples, and gestures you into his (blessedly empty) office. You introduce yourself, give him your name and your department, and after a cordial handshake and pleasantries, stood in the middle of the tiny space, you decide to just come right out and say it.
“I have a student who I think you know,” you say, “She’s a senior and a double-major.”
He asks for her name, and you give it.
“Yeah, she’s in my senior seminar,” Professor Qian tells you.
“Mine, too,” you say, “And she’s gotten a little…TOO comfortable in class, lately.”
His grin turns lopsided. “Are we talking eating without permission, or something less tasteful?”
“She has made it clear that she’s interested in some things involving you. And her. And sex,” you tell him, fighting to keep your voice level and not actually die of embarrassment.  
Now the grin disappears entirely. “Seriously?”
You nod, “The exact words I heard were ‘he’s super stacked and I want to-‘”
“Whoa, okay!” Professor Qian cuts you off, “Okay, yeah. No.”
“Professor, I’m sure you know this, but I can’t let anything like that happen. We’ll both get canned,” you say.
“Kun.”
“Pardon me?”
“Call me Kun,” he says, “We’re colleagues, don’t need to dance around titles.”
“Kun,” you repeat, “Alright. But you – you’re not going to-”
“Christ, no,” Kun says emphatically, looking scandalized.
“Good. This has been the most thoroughly uncomfortable conversation of my whole career, but good,” you say.
“I would rather you bring it up to me than let things get worse,” he assures you.
“I’m sure it’s flattering to know that students are interested,” you joke. “Sort of wish I was that kind of attractive.”
Kun laughs. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve always thought you were attractive.”
Your brain comes screeching to a halt so quickly, you’re sure Kun can hear as it slams on the breaks and leaves you confounded and blinking at him. He has the presence to look a bit sheepish, having just turned this around on you.
“I’m sorry, was that too much?” he says, running a hand through his hair nervously.
“Unexpected but appreciated,” you reply. “And what do you mean, ‘always?’”
Kun shrugs, leaning back against his desk. “We share a lot of students. They talk about you, that makes you stand out, I see you around. Frequency bias.”
You crack a smile. “So, I come here to save you from one of my horny students, only to find you’re my secret admirer, is that it?”
“You could say that.”
He looks amused but not smug, satisfied but not cocky. The way he’s leaning his weight back on the sturdy wooden desk makes it really difficult not to notice his strong thighs in their fitted slacks, or his chest against the thin fabric of his shirt.
Maybe you were a little harsh, before, judging your student’s attraction to him. You can see the appeal. Completely.
You take a step closer to him, which isn’t difficult given the extremely limited space in the office. “You spend a lot of time thinking about me?”
“A completely normal amount of time,” he replies.
“What kinds of things do you think about?”
Kun reaches toward you suddenly, and then hesitates, leaving his hand hovering in the general direction of your hip. Fascinated, you cover his hand with yours and bring it down to meet your side, as he intended.
“How you always look so put-together but act so cavalier,” he says, finally. “How the kids say you curse in lecture and sit cross-legged on your desk and watch TikToks on your phone, but also grade harder than anyone in your department.”
You hadn’t known that anyone noticed those things. Not your students, and least of all some random colleague.
“So what do you wanna do about it?” you ask, genuinely curious.
“Well,” says Kun, taking hold of your hip more firmly, “Since you’re right here, and the door is shut, and you’re not one of my students…”
You laugh, and his smile makes those dimples pop out again.
“Then,” he says, “Then I think I wanna do this.”
You can say with absolute certainty that you didn’t come here to kiss Qian Kun, but that’s exactly what’s happening. He kisses calm and steady, and you’re ready to about melt into his arms. It’s just a few gentle presses of your lips against his, until he suddenly grabs you around the waist and spins the both of you, so that you’re the one up against the desk.
He lifts you the little bit so that you can sit on the cold surface of it. You move your legs to either side of his hips, and he groans a bit as he draws even closer. As he settles his body against yours, you can feel the barest beginning of an erection pressing against your inner thigh.
“Excited already?” you ask, amused, as Kun traces a path of kisses across your jaw.
“Maybe,” he replies, “Are you complaining?”
“Not at all.”
He laughs at that, which makes you laugh, and you hook your arm around his neck to bring his mouth back to yours. You could get used to this, you think, as one of Kun’s hands sneaks down to jerk your button-up out from where it’s tucked into your nice jeans. As soon as he has access, that hand goes right up your shirt to find purchase-
KNOCK KNOCK.
You jump, and Kun glances over his shoulder at the door, panic evident on his face. Before he can call out to tell whomever it is to wait a second, the door swings open.
“Hey, Qian, I had a question about the performance review for-”
Of course, it’s her. Your student, the very same one with the hots for Kun, walking headlong into the office. When she finally looks up and sees you there, on the desk, legs spread and Kun between them, she freezes.
“I…” she sputters, “I – I guess I’ll come back later.”
“Close the door behind you,” Kun agrees.
She nods, looking mortified. “Yeah, yeah, of course. S-see you on Monday, Doc!”
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ambitionsource · 3 years ago
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AMBITION Season 3 ♫ “Jolly Holiday, Part 1” [ 3.13 ]
CREATED BY Esther (waterstribe) & Maggie (quincywillows) || Official Page || AO3
GOD SAVE THE DREAM – The A class embarks on their senior class trip. Charlie graduates high school. The lingering wait for college admissions has some on edge, and one person receives difficult news. Lucas’s UC interview is thrown into jeopardy.
73 Minutes (36K words) || No content warnings apply.
[ ← Dylan and Asher ] [ S3 Synopsis ] [ Jolly Holiday, Part 2 → ]
( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )
INT. AAA - ATRIUM - NIGHT
The Adams lobby is packed for a typical evening, members of the A class gathered with a decent amount of luggage. Some chat with their parents and pass off last-minute things; RANDALL ORLANDO hands DYLAN ORLANDO his passport, which he accepts with a sheepish grin while ASHER GARCIA heaves a great sigh of relief.
HARPER BURGESS weaves her way around with a checklist, greeting each student and marking them present. We continue even deeper into the school, away from the hustle and bustle…
INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT
To the comparatively quiet counselor’s office, though ERIC MATTHEWS does not seem peaceful. He’s harried as he digs through paperwork at his desk, muttering to himself and stuffing everything into a pretty dense binder labeled “SENIOR TRIP - A CLASS.”
JACK HUNTER appears in the doorway, watching for a few moments with an amused smile on his face. Then he knocks lightly on the open door, leaning in the doorframe. Eric jumps, only making Jack smile wider.
Jack: So B class left for their trip this morning, A class is gearing up now… and how are you doing? You seem good. Relaxed.
Eric: Don’t even. Don’t start with me.
Jack, innocently: [ unable to stop grinning ] What?
Eric: B class was simple. B class was easy -- they’re always easy. We let them choose where they wanted to go, and what did they pick? Disney World. Easy. Stuffed them onto a charter bus and shipped them down the coast with Norton and the chaperones this morning. Easy.
Jack: Should get some good exposure to the industry. They’re doing the backstage tour, right? I’ve heard it’s illuminating.
Eric: Then we let A class pick, and did they go simple? Did they go easy? No. Because they’re never simple. They are never easy. No, they wanted to go abroad. [ with a withering look ] This is all your fault.
Jack: [ with a scoff ] Me? Why me?
Eric: You’re the one who approved the trip! Sure, let them cross the Atlantic, you said. It’ll be fun, Eric, you said.
Jack: And I’m sure it will be.
Eric: Yes, and easy for you to say, since you’re not going. I’m the one who has to make sure none of them die, or go missing, or violate international law --
Jack laughs, sauntering further into the room and reassuring Eric that it’ll be fine. Once they get through the logistical nightmare that is travel, they’re going to have a swell time. Besides, at least he’s not doing it alone.
Jack: You’ll be fine. You’re a great leader, and the kids trust you. You won’t let one get set adrift across the pond.
Eric: We literally lost two students at prom last year.
Jack: And now one of them is your daughter. Doubt she’ll be nearly as much trouble. And you’ll have Harper with you, who you know is an excellent chaperone. I mean, count your blessings -- at least you’re not traveling with Shawn.
True, true… talk about a negligent chaperone. Eric shudders at the thought, shaking his head and finishing securing his travel binder. Jack observes him and contemplates the best way to change topics. He leans forward casually against the back of the chair opposite Eric’s desk, going for nonchalant.
Jack: Speaking of your impeccable leadership… I’ve been thinking. You should consider applying for my job.
Eric stops what he’s doing. He lifts his head, eyes wide.
Eric: What?
Jack, quickly: I just think it could be a good exercise, that’s all. Good practice.
Eric: Don’t be ridiculous. You know they’re going to hand that job back to you no contest -- no matter how hard Yancy and Jefferson campaign under the table.
Jack: Sure, sure. Absolutely. [ a beat ] But that’s all the more reason to use this opportunity. I mean, you’re an ideal candidate, given your history with the school. Evelyn likes you just as much as me --
Eric: Not true. You are by far her favorite.
Jack: And you’ve got all the credentials. I know you like being a counselor, and don’t get me wrong, you’re damn good at it. But why take all those masters courses to get the certification if you never considered using them?
Jack has a point there. Though their paths were quite different leading to where they are now, with different levels of study, Eric is technically (and definitely) qualified to apply if he wanted. As for if he wants to… Jack’s guidance certainly seems to have him thinking, if nothing else.
Jack: Anyway, it was just a suggestion. No pressure, you know. Just think about it. Filling out the application. Seeing what it’s like.
Eric: As if I don’t have enough to think about right now. How is yours going? Pretty easy to put together I’m guessing.
Ah, yes… Jack sidesteps the question, claiming he’s just putting on the finishing touches. Which he’ll have plenty of time to do while the school is quiet and the A class is out of his hair for a week. Eric says lucky him, which prompts a chuckle from both of them.
Once the laughter peters out, the moment becomes unexpectedly soft -- just shared smiles and momentary quiet. Eric clears his throat.
Eric: You’re sure you can’t come? Think now would be the time to have my authoritarian.
A little vacation abroad would sure be nice… but alas. Important business to handle here. Jack offers a bittersweet shrug, nodding to the rest of the school behind them.
Jack: Duty calls. Should enjoy it while it lasts.
While he’s still principal, may as well act like it. Eric sighs, but accepts that, hefting his colossal trip binder into his hiking backpack.
INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY
By the steps, MAYA HART finishes repacking her suitcase, trying to get it under the acceptable weight limit. ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is doing her the favor of sitting on top of it, while FARKLE MINKUS eyes the undertaking skeptically.
Farkle: It’s a class trip, Maya. How many pairs of shoes do you need?
Maya: It’s an affront that you even have to ask that question.
Isadora: It’s an affront that this thing weighs more than me.
Farkle: Probably more than both of us combined.
Isadora: You don’t add much.
Touché! Isadora is also going through Maya’s purse, making a face when she pulls out a folded up piece of paper. Maya’s acceptance letter to NYU Tisch.
Isadora: You carry this around in your purse?
Maya: Be careful with that!
She snatches it from her, smoothing out the corners.
Maya: You’ll crumple the edges. But yes, why wouldn’t I? It’s my greatest achievement to date -- sans your mom’s coat, of course. I like to think of it like a good luck charm. My aura cleanser even did a fortune ceremony on it, so it’s legit. [ marveling at it ] Look at it. Isn’t it lovely?
She gives it a little kiss, folding it back up and putting it back in the purse on Isadora’s lap. Isadora and Farkle exchange a look.
Farkle: At this rate, getting rejected might’ve been healthier for your sanity.
Maya flips her hair over her shoulder pointedly, shrugging. Too late now!
A few paces over, RILEY MATTHEWS double checks her backpack to make sure she has all her essential belongings. It’s her first time going overseas, and she’s clearly a bit nervous. But she’s got her ways to combat it, including a well-curated list -- one that LUCAS JAMES FRIAR walks through with her as she goes. He reads down the list, she confirms she’s got it.
Lucas, notably, doesn’t have a backpack or suitcase to fuss over. That’s because he isn’t going, a fact that Riley sympathetically remarks on once they’ve concluded her checklist. She takes his hands in hers.
Riley: I wish you were coming with us. It’s not going to feel right if you’re not there.
Lucas: Actually, I think it would feel wrong if I were there. Like some kind of weird, nonsensical blip in the universe.
Riley: Oh, please…
Lucas: I’m not cultured and I don’t have any money. Traveling out of state seems pretty out of character, let alone out of the country. Think I’d get sent to the embassy as an international prisoner just for existing.
Riley nudges him pointedly, earning a smirk in response. It’s too cute not to mirror with a smile of her own, but it doesn’t quite remove the melancholy from her tone.
Riley: I just… I feel bad. You should be there, you’re class president. And you know… with everything that’s happened in the last few weeks, I don’t wanna like… just leave --
Lucas: Riley. Seriously, it’s fine. I’m fine. And spending some time on my own is not going to be the thing that kills me. That’s how I used to prefer it.
Riley: I know, I know… before Comet Riley.
Lucas: And the world has never been the same. Look, I know it’s gonna sound insane when I say this, given my track record on… well, everything, but you don’t have to worry about me.
Easier said than done… but she knows in her heart he’s right. And even if she wanted to debate it, she runs out of time, as Jack and Eric march out from the hall and start rallying the troops to head out for the airport. Big journey ahead!
Harper: All right, everybody, grab your things -- all your things, double-check and make sure, yes I’m looking at you, Orlando --
Dylan: And I don’t blame you!
Asher: I’m triple-checking.
Harper: Then let’s move on out! It’s a brief bus ride to the airport and then a long eight hours to fly. Don’t want to be late!
Riley gears up to go, Lucas grabbing her backpack off the ground and helping her sling it on her shoulders. She reminds him not to forget about the favor she asked him to do while she’s gone, which he confirms. Then she remembers something else at the last second, quickly turning to face him again.
Riley: Oh, and tell me the moment you hear anything from Davis. I know the connection is gonna be spotty because we’ll only be able to talk on wi-fi, but seriously, if you hear anything, try to reach me. They have to say something any day now.
Oh, so Lucas hasn’t told her about the acceptance letter... or the potential scholarship… he pauses when the moment arises, then nods, assuring her he’ll do just that.
Riley: I’ll try to do the same for Tisch, if I hear from them, but you know, again, spotty connections --
Harper: Let’s go, Riley! Mister Friar will still be here when you get back!
Riley blushes, starting to back up towards the others as Lucas playfully urges her to go. But then she doubles back one more time, pulling him into a kiss goodbye. The moment lingers when they pull apart, Riley gently caressing his cheeks and holding his gaze.
Riley, softly but with intent: I love you.
Just in case he needs the reminder -- to tide him over for the week. Then she’s off, throwing him one last smile over her shoulder and blowing a kiss before she jogs to catch up with the rest of the class towards the back entrance where the bus awaits.
Jack comes to stand next to Lucas, the two of them watching the others head out. Jack smiles knowingly at the exchange he just witnessed, and clears his throat presumably to comment.
Lucas: Don’t say anything.
Jack: … all right.
His tickled smirk says plenty for him anyway.
INT. JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - SECURITY CHECKPOINT - NIGHT
Before the fun can begin, though, they’ve got to get there -- and that might be the most stressful part. Eric waits on the other side of security and customs, counting off each student as they successfully make it through the process. He’s splitting his focus between that and making sure the ones who have already made it through don’t rush off.
Eric: Fourteen… fifteen -- techies, I said stay put until we’re all accounted for! Asher, will you please bring Nate back into formation? Sixteen -- Maya, do not argue with the customs agent!
Maya successfully makes it through, albeit in a huff, followed by SARAH CARLSON, DARBY WINTERS, and finally Harper to close out the group. She and Eric touch base.
Harper: Full count?
Eric: Full count. Thank God.
Harper: Well, at least the hard part’s over.
Eric: Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Just wait until we have to get them back in one piece.
They’re already exhausted. This should be international levels of fun.
Cue title sequence.
INT. JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - TERMINAL - NIGHT
Eric and Harper have disbanded the group to explore the terminal, gathering rations and any necessary items for the journey. The techie boys are assembled just outside the entrance of Hudson News, eyeing some of the stuff on display.
Jeff: Y’all brought outlet adapters, right? You know their voltage is different than ours.
Dave, stunned: The Brits have their own electricity?! I am never gonna survive the culture shock.
Yogi: [ re: “shock” ] Literally.
Nate: Oh, bro, I know. And what if we don’t speak the language?
Dave: I know! I’m fucked!
NATE MARTINEZ cracks up, JEFF MONROE and NICK YOGI assuaging DAVE WILLIAMS’s concerns.
Moving past them, closer to the gate where their flight will be departing from, we shift focus to ZAY BABINEAUX. Next to him YINDRA AMINO is engaged in a seemingly riveting conversation with HALEY FISHER and CLARISSA CRUZ, but Zay isn’t paying attention. He’s zoned out, glued to his phone instead.
He’s logged into his application portal for Turner. His status still says “pending,” even weeks later when many people have already heard back. He keeps refreshing the page, willing it to change, yet of course it does not. He sighs, swiping the window up and away and landing back on the previous app he had open.
His messages app, and a specific contact at that. His text thread with Charlie, which had been steadily growing back to a healthy rapport but has essentially gone silent since his Turner audition. Since Zay kissed him, like an idiot, and then ran away like a coward.
It’s clear Zay wants that to be different. He wants there to be rapport, to break the ice he stupidly created, but he’s at a loss for how. Not to mention, he kind of figured Charlie would say something… maybe that’s stupid, given it’s Charlie, but it feels wrong to be the one to bother him when he’s the one who encroached on their lines in the sand.
Just another thing frozen in time, stuck “pending.” Zay frowns, slouching further in his seat.
Riley comes to join him with food for them to share, plopping down in the seat next to him. He quickly locks his phone, but it’s honestly not even worth the rush -- with his obsession lately, she already has her guess as to what he was looking at.
Riley: I hate to be the one to deliver this news, but you realize we’re not going to have much access to wi-fi on the trip? You’re not going to be able to check your email obsessively while we’re there. Such a tragedy... 
Zay: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gimme my French fries.
Riley hands them over, eyeing his leg impatiently bouncing a mile a minute. She remarks he’s got plenty of energy stored up now clearly, so good thing he’s finally clear to dance again. He snorts, derisively eating a fry.
Zay: Yeah, just when I needed it -- oh, no, wait. That was weeks ago…
Riley: Still, you’re happy, aren’t you? I know I am. I can’t wait to see you dance again for real.
Zay: You’re unfailingly sweet, thanks. And yeah, of course I’m happy I got the all clear. It really just feels like… I mean, if it could’ve been a couple weeks sooner --
Riley: But there’s nothing you can do about it now. It’s done. And if it took Turner this long to contact you --
Zay: Reject me.
Riley: Then there’s nothing to say it’s going to happen any second we’re abroad on this trip. All this to say [ pretending to pull a cord from his forehead ] disconnect. I think you’ll have more fun if you do.
Zay: Maybe.
Riley: Besides, it’s not like you’re the only one who hasn’t heard back. It’s not totally out of the norm. I mean, Lucas hasn’t heard from Davis, I’m waiting on Tisch...
Yeah… interesting how Riley seems so calm and unbothered by that. Zay points out as much, that she is handling the whole uncertainty thing remarkably well. She shrugs. It’s hard to tell if she genuinely isn’t that invested, or if she’s just keeping her expectations low to avoid disappointment.
Point is, they’re about to go abroad for the first time, so they should focus on that rather than getting stuck on all the stuff here. Zay doesn’t argue with that perspective.
Zay: Believe me, I’m more than ready to get away from things in New York for a while.
Nonchalant as that statement is, Riley is smarter than that. She raises her eyebrows, immediately asking what’s going on aside from Turner that he’s trying to avoid. Zay focuses on his food instead, which only tips her off more. And she had noticed that conversation between him and Charlie seemed to have died down in the last couple weeks…
Riley: Oh my God. Did something happen? [ with dread ] You’re not fighting again, are you?
Zay: No. And we were never fighting.
Riley looks more than ready to disagree with that, but Zay cuts her off. Every time she tries to dig deeper, he dodges, nuh-uhing her until she gives up. If there is something going on, he’s clearly not going to talk about it.
And he’s not the only one. At the gate, Isadora sits on her own, headphones on as she watches something on her phone. Eric sits down next to her and greets her, but Isadora doesn’t notice. With a sigh, Eric taps Isadora on the shoulder. She jumps and looks up at Eric with wide eyes, pausing the video and moving her headphones to rest around her neck.
Eric: Enjoying yourself? [ a beat; Isadora shrugs ] How are you feeling about everything? The last time you flew or traveled a significant amount was for Valerie’s funeral. 
Isadora, dryly: I really appreciate the reminder.
When Eric doesn’t move on, but instead continues to wait for a proper response, Isadora shifts from her sarcastic defense system to allow a bit of vulnerability. 
Isadora: It’s difficult. I only used to fly between LA and New York, either because she wanted me back or had given up on me again. I feel like I did back then -- will this time work? Will I be accepted and loved? I know I’m not going to see her, but my anxiety isn’t really listening to that fact.
Eric nods in understanding and says that he expected as much. He suggests that she continue to challenge the thoughts, and keep herself distracted. 
Isadora: Kind of hard when all your friends are talking about where to go to college and your dad is asking you how you feel about your mom being dead. 
Eric: Fair enough. Should I just leave you alone, then? Or do you want to play an airport game? Guess Who, I Spy, that sort of thing.
Isadora considers this. 
Isadora: We could try to name as many of the periodic elements as we can. 
Eric: Maybe we should find Farkle for that one.
As Eric looks around, Isadora chuckles and tells him that it’s fine. She’s happy watching a documentary about whether we’re all living in a simulation or not. Seems like a great way to distract from anxiety…
Eric leaves Isadora alone, passing JADE BEAMON and NIGEL CHEY as he goes. They sit together at the gate, across from Isadora, sharing a bag of candy and excitedly discussing what they’re going to do on the trip. Nigel is particularly enthused about one location on their itinerary, his nerdom on full display.
Nigel: I mean, it’s Stratford-Upon-Avon. Birthplace of Shakespeare!
Jade, fondly: I know, I know.
Nigel: You don’t go to Shakespeare camp twelve years in a row only to not appreciate the chance to see the holy ground. It’s like… pilgrimage.
Jade: And don’t I feel blessed to witness it. Think seeing you see it is going to be more interesting than the place itself.
Nigel shrugs bashfully. Jade splits a piece of candy in two and hands half to him, which he happily accepts.
Nigel: Gotta say, yeah, it’s extra special considering I get to see such an important place with such an important person.
Jade’s turn to blush. She concurs, though, the two of them agreeing a lot of the excitement for the trip is just in that they get to be on it together. They’ve got it all planned out, how they’re going to spend as much time as possible taking in the sights together. Nothing but experiences to have, culture to absorb… just the two of them…
Well, not quite. Their quiet conversation is interrupted as the techie boys descend upon them, loudly and enthusiastically pouncing on Jade from behind as they crash into the row of seats backed against theirs. She jumps in surprise, then makes a deadpan expression as they all immediately start talking at once.
Jeff: All stocked up for the trip.
Nate: Check it, Pins N’ Needs! Got enough jelly beans in these pockets to last a lifetime, baby! And I’m packing major Double Bubble.
Dave: Jeff helped me pick out a travel adaptation --
Yogi: Aren’t your pockets going to get sticky?
Nate: You let me worry about that. You just wait ‘til I start blowing bubbs at 30,000 feet.
Dave: [ holding out the adapter to show Jade ] So I don’t get zapped by the British electricity.
Jeff: They’re going to throw you out the emergency exit.
Nate: Good thing I’ll have my Double Bubble to keep me airborne!
Jade, sharply: Boys. [ off their silence ] Don’t you remember what we talked about before we left? That little agreement we discussed about this trip?
Nate, Dave, Jeff, and Yogi exchange a look, thinking… then their glances shift to Nigel. He looks overwhelmed, not yet used to the usual techie tot rapid-fire, but he offers an awkward smile.
Ohhh, right. Jade is with Nigel. Simple agreement -- leave her alone.
Nate: Oh, riiiiight. Right, right.
Yogi: Quite right, luv.
Jeff: Don’t mind us. We’ll just be over here. Minding our own business.
Nate: Looking the other way.
Dave: Leaving you alone so you can be with your boyfriend.
Dave! Not so loud! Nate and Yogi tug Dave around so they’re facing the other direction, feigning disinterest and leaving Jade be. She releases a long breath through her nose, then offers Nigel a smile. He was saying?
Flight attendant, voiceover: Attention passengers. Flight 0103 to Heathrow begins boarding in just a few minutes…
INT. AIRPLANE - NIGHT
Passengers clog the aisles and rummage around their seats as boarding resumes, all the way towards the back of the plane where the A class basically has domain over the last few rows. Riley, Dylan, and Asher take up a row of three, avidly chatting as they buckle in. Harper is helping direct them to their proper seats, noting that they’re welcome to swap seats with each other if they wish only once they’re settled and within their share of the plane.
That’s news to Nigel -- and good news at that. He perks up from his seat in front of Yindra and Zay (paired by the window on the left side), then makes eye contact with Jade still hovering in the aisle making her way down to board. Yindra gasps.
Yindra: No way. Nigel Chey, are you ditching us?
Nigel: You’re sitting together. I’m not. I’m the third front wheel.
Zay: But you’re with us in our hearts. You’d really toss us aside so callously to sit with your girlfriend?
Nigel: You are the last person who should be making that accusation, or did you forget freshman year? [ off Yindra’s snort ] But to answer your question --
Jade catches his eye, nodding her head towards a couple of seats just two down in front of Zay and Yindra. Nigel spots an opportunity as Isadora starts to settle in, leaping for it.
Nigel: Yep. See you in London.
Zay and Yindra boo him as he jumps forward in the aisle, getting Isadora’s attention and asking if she’d be willing to swap seats. She hesitates, then sees Chai coming down the aisle behind Jade, and something compels her to agree. Nigel happily passes off his ticket and settles into her spot, waiting for Jade to make it next to him.
Only somehow there’s a mix-up, and things don’t go quite as planned. Just as Jade arrives at their row, Eric pops over. He’s surprised Nigel is seated there -- he was under the impression Isadora was supposed to be in this seat, but he digresses -- and he explains that somehow his ticket got mixed up and he’s ended up in the middle of one of the four-seat rows in the center. But he’s an older gentleman, as they know, and he isn’t sure a cramped flight sitting like that for seven hours will be very healthy… so would Jade be so kind as to be willing to swap with him so he can have the aisle?
Well... what are they gonna do, say no to their counselor? Jade sheepishly agrees, spinning to look at where Eric says is his old seat. Naturally, it’s smack in the middle of the techie boys.
Jade: You’ve got to be kidding me…
She makes her walk of shame over to them, the boys greeting her enthusiastically. Jade! Pins N’ Needles, back at it again! Eric settles down into the spot next to Nigel, giving him a friendly smile. Nigel returns it weakly, then glances over his shoulder -- Yindra and Zay are silently laughing at him, giving him cheeky middle fingers. That’s what he gets!
And, despite her quick moves, somehow Isadora has ended up with Chai as her seat partner. Chai seems enthused about it, but Isadora less so. She kind of tunes out even as Chai tries to chat with her, curling closer towards the window. Chai can obviously tell this isn’t typical girlfriend behavior, and thinks about saying something, but Isadora pulls her headphones back on.
Not much to be done about that, then. Chai tries to brush it off as nothing -- just travel nerves, maybe -- pulling out her book.
In a pair of seats to the right behind Harper, Maya and Farkle are settling in. She’s being oddly snippy with him, putting on a thin air of aloof as she questions whether he’s accepted his admission to USC yet. Ever since she found out about the business card, she’s been prodding him about it every day.
Farkle: I haven’t made any decisions yet. For the thousandth time.
Maya isn’t satisfied with that answer. She curtly says -- not for the first time -- that if she had an opportunity flying into her lap like that, she certainly wouldn’t be hesitating to take it. It’s deranged, is what it is. Self-sabotaging, perhaps. Farkle rolls his eyes at her theatrics, leaning back into his seat and knocking his head back.
Farkle: This is going to be a long flight.
Maya: Farkle, darling, you’re my best friend -- it’s going to be a long life.
You got him there, Maya! And with that, we’re ready for take off --
EXT. AIRPLANE - NIGHT
Night passes and brightens to day as the airbus makes its way over the Atlantic, making a timely and early descent into the United Kingdom. As the pilot’s voice welcomes us to London over the intercom, we get our first sprawling, establishing shots of the commonwealth.
INT. HEATHROW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - DAY
The A class emerges through customs and gathers their things at the luggage carousel, grateful to be able to stretch their legs and move freely. Dylan does some cartwheels to loosen up -- guess the American circus really has arrived! Yindra and Zay pick on Nigel when they reunite with their bags. Did he enjoy his flight with Eric, his best friend?
Nigel: I will have both of you know that Counselor Eric is a lovely conversationalist. You can stay mad.
Oh, ho ho! Big talk! Eric passes him and thanks him for the compliment, embarrassing Nigel and causing Zay and Yindra to crack up. Then he beckons them all out towards the bus -- it’s time to kick this trip off for real!
EXT. LONDON - VARIOUS LOCATIONS - DAY
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “London Calling” as performed by The Clash || Performed by AAA Seniors
The A class file onto a double decker BUS as the guitar and drums start, a friendly if bland tour guide called SIMON greeting them once they’ve all taken seats on the open top deck. He’ll stay with them for the entire trip, but the double decker bus is only for today. 
They set off around the streets of London, the unofficial British anthem the soundtrack for our montage of them enjoying -- and exploring -- the views. They drive past the electric billboards of Piccadilly, Cleopatra’s needle, a large statue of Queen Victoria -- all the while taking pictures and listening to Simon’s narration of the city (which, perhaps thankfully, we can’t hear).
As they drive past Trafalgar Square, we cut to them exploring that same location. They’re sped up to match the tempo of the song and the chaotic nature that is tourist sightseeing tours. The techie boys sit atop the iconic lion statues while Maya, Farkle, Riley, Isadora and Zay walk in a line in unison to the beat, heads bobbing and knees bent like Madness in the One Step Beyond music video and cover art.
Back in the bus, we see that while Jade and Nigel managed to sit together this time, they’re both peacefully snoozing. Yindra laughs and takes a picture of them.
They pass the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge, then we see them arrive at the British Museum. 
Simon, flatly: I’m very excited to show you all the many things that British colonists stole from people all around the world and that we still refuse to give back to the rightful owners.
We see members of the A class posing in front of various different statues and artifacts throughout the museum -- Maya and Yindra with the Pharaohs of Egypt; Dave and Nate with the Easter Island head; Nigel and Jade with the Rosetta Stone; Farkle, Isadora, Riley, Asher and Dylan mimicking the poses of the Elgin Marbles as best they can considered each figure is missing a significant amount of limbs; Sarah, Darby and Chai in front of the painting Dancers Practising at the Barre by Edgar Degas.
We return to Trafalgar Square to see Nate being chased by two BOBBIES, one of whom is missing his hat. Nate shouts gleefully as he runs past his classmates, police hat proudly on top of his head. He provides the “ow ow ow owww!”
Eric struggles to keep up with the bobbies and pauses to catch his breath. Riley hands him her water bottle. 
The bus drives past Buckingham Palace while Maya teaches everybody how to do the royal wave. Then the Science Museum, which Simon seems more much interested in. Farkle and Isadora are hot on his heels. We see the enormous dinosaur skeletons, the great whale, the wacky mirrors that distort your image, the escalator that takes you up into the centre of a volcano.
By the time the class are climbing back onto the bus after the science museum, they’re full of energy, excitedly chatting while Harper and Eric drudge behind them. Simon, on the other hand, shows no signs of either energy or lack thereof -- or any emotions at all, really.
The class groove on top of the bus, dancing around and laughing together while Nate provides more wolf calls. They shout-sing the lyrics together, having the time of their lives. 
With the very last clash of the drums, Nate tosses the police hat back to the bobbies and sprints away with the other techie boys, cracking up. 
We’re in for one exciting trip, folks!
INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY
Back in the states, a perfectly normal school day at Adams is progressing as usual. Only the news that Lucas shares with Jack as they sit in their usual spots across from one another is far from it -- he informs him about his tentative admission to Davis, and that he’s up for a potential scholarship (something he sorely needs). Jack is stunned, then elated, nearly getting to his feet.
Jack: Lucas, that’s fantastic! Congratulations.
Lucas: Um, yeah. Thanks. I mean, doesn’t really matter if I don’t get the money, since I still haven’t made enough on my own and it’s going to take like, everything I’ve got either way, but --
Jack: But still. This is a major accomplishment. I know how hard you worked. You should be proud of yourself.
Lucas is obviously uncomfortable with the effusive praise, as nice as it is. So he brushes it off, shifting instead to the reason why he told Jack in the first place. He was hoping that he could give him a ride to his interview. It’s a ways upstate for some reason, and he’ll never be able to borrow the family car for that long.
Jack is, of course, more than willing to do so… until Lucas mentions the date.
Jack: Tomorrow? [ reluctant ] I’m sorry, I can’t. I already have a prior engagement.
Lucas: Oh… oh.
Well, shit. That’s what you get for hiding your small victories until the last minute. Jack frowns, obviously wishing he had a different answer.
Jack: I’m sorry. If I could shift around these plans, I would, believe me. But it’s not exactly within my control.
Lucas: No, it’s um -- it was my mistake waiting so long to -- no, yeah, it’s cool. Thanks anyway.
Jack: You’ll figure out something else, I’m sure. You’re nothing if not resourceful.
Lucas: Yeah… yeah, definitely.
But Lucas doesn’t seem very convinced. Jack can tell he’s deflated, but there’s not much he can say to improve the situation. Lucas escapes before he can even try, claiming he better get back to class -- he and Shawn have lots of work to do, sitting around doing nothing as the only two left.
EXT. LONDON EYE - DAY
The A class arrive at the final destination of their city tour: the London Eye. It looms above them, slowly going round against the London skyline. It’s a magnificent thing to behold, but the techie boys seem disappointed. 
Nate: Is this it? I thought it was meant to be the best ferris wheel in the world. 
Dylan: It’s barely even moving. Is it broken? 
Dave: Where’s the other eye? Is London a cyclops?
The tour guide listens to these complaints in horror. Eric can only mutter an apology, but Simon takes it in his stride and uses the opportunity to explain the history of the London Eye. Farkle listens keenly while Nate and Dylan ask as many ridiculous questions as they can. Leaving the class in safe hands, Eric and Harper go over to the ticket stand to collect their pre-booked tickets. 
Simon: Does anybody know how many capsules there are on the Eye? 
Chai: Thirty-three, right? 
Simon: Close, but not quite.
Isadora’s hand shoots up. Simon nods at her, allowing her to answer. 
Isadora: There are thirty-two capsules. When numbering them, they skipped thirteen for good luck, so they’re numbered one to twelve, then fourteen to thirty-three. There are thirty-two boroughs in London, so each capsule represents one of them. It’s a common misconception that there are thirty-three boroughs, but the City of London isn’t actually classed as a borough.
Simon: You’re exactly right, Miss De La Cruz! But I will kindly ask you not to take over my job in future. London is a very expensive place to live and I need rent money.
Isadora blushes but has a proud smile on her face. Next to her, Chai looks a little irritated at being shown up, given that she was the London transfer for a whole year. Rather than dwell on it, she returns her attention to Simon, who goes through the thirty-two boroughs that the capsules represent.
On their way back from the ticket stand, Eric and Harper pass a man with a basket full of roses.
Rose seller: What a lovely couple! Miss, wouldn’t you like your boyfriend to get you one of my roses?
He holds out a rose, smiling innocently. Harper and Eric meet eyes and struggle not to laugh.
Harper: We’re both gay.
The man falters, realising his mistake, and steps back to allow them on their way. He spots an actual couple walking towards the queue hand in hand, so skips over towards them. A smattering of the A class watches him go, having tuned out of the history lecture.
Yindra: What a guy. Wouldn’t want to have that job.
Zay: I wouldn’t spit on it. That might be you in Los Angeles in a few months.
Yindra elbows him pointedly. Asher shakes his head, watching the rose seller try to convince another group.
Asher: Could never be me. Walking up to strangers like that is a nightmare.
Dylan: Gotta respect the hustle. I love talking to random people. [ brightly ] Maybe I should do that.
Asher: Please don’t.
Dylan: I could sell my cookies. You’d buy food from a stranger on the street, right?
Zay: That’s what the hot dog vendors in Manhattan do every day and they’re considered a staple. Follow your heart, Orlando.
Jade: I don’t know about street food, but I would totally go for one of the flowers. Those roses are beautiful, look at them.
Nigel takes note of her reaction, but the moment passes pretty quickly. When Eric and Harper rejoin the group, focus drifts back to them. Simon finishes his list of boroughs and Eric takes over, announcing that they have to split up into two groups.
Eric: There would only be enough room for four more people if we were all in a capsule together, and since we didn’t specifically book to have one to ourselves, they’ve asked if we can split up so that we don’t prevent other, smaller groups from being together. 
Maya: That can’t be right. I remember specifically requesting we had a capsule to ourselves in my proposal for the trip schedule.
Eric: If you want to fork over the extra cash, then sure thing.
Maya admits defeat. Eric announces that he’ll take ten of them, and Harper will have nine. But aside from that, they’re all mature enough to sort out the groups themselves.
That’s giving them a lot of credit. Haley and Clarissa cling onto each other for dear life as everyone begins moving around. They stand in front of Harper and stay there, determined not to get split up. Jade and Chai both have the same idea, each trying to get a hold of Nigel and Isadora, respectively. Chai successfully ends up standing in front of Eric along with Isadora, Darby and Sarah, but Jade and Nigel are less fortunate. Yindra loops her arm through Nigel’s and moves him over to Eric’s side where Zay is waiting, while Dave rests his chin on top of Jade’s head, anchoring her to her place by Harper.
Riley, Dylan and Asher are chatting merrily in Eric’s group, while Maya and Farkle are still undecided. Farkle is happy wherever, but Maya is having a hard time picking between being stuck with Dylan and Asher -- but having Isadora, Riley and the plastics -- or being with the rest of the techie boys. She decides that she can just stay on the other side of the capsule as Dasher, and walks towards Isadora and the plastics.
While Maya moves towards them, Isadora realises that she will take them up to eleven, meaning somebody will have to move. Neither Eric nor Harper have realised that Eric’s group is already full. She looks between Chai, who has her back to Isadora while she chats with Darby and Sarah, and Farkle, who frowns as he realises the same thing about the numbers.
He’s about to speak up and call Maya back over to Harper’s side, but Isadora uses the opportunity to get away from a potentially uncomfortable situation and darts over towards him. She grabs Farkle’s wrist and pulls him properly into Harper’s group before he knows what’s happening.
When Maya joins Darby and Sarah, she realises that Isadora is no longer there and turns around. Chai notices the same, both of them frowning in confusion at Isadora. She avoids eye contact with both of them, turning and letting Harper know that the groups are done. 
Harper: Oh, thank you Isadora. Eric, I think we’re ready. 
There���s no chance for anybody to voice their displeasure at the arrangement, with Eric already setting off towards the queue. Farkle looks down at Isadora, confused and a little concerned. 
Farkle: What happened?
Isadora: Hm? Oh, I... noticed that Jade was the only techie girl on this side so I wanted to join her. Maya and I must have ended up swapping somehow.
Farkle doesn’t look convinced, but Jade mumbles a thank you while watching after Nigel.
As they join the queue, Simon waves the group goodbye. Once all of their backs are turned, his customer service smile drops. 
Simon, sighing: Americans…
Americans, indeed.
EXT. LONDON EYE - QUEUE - DAY
Now split up, the A class settles into distracting themselves while waiting in line. Yindra and Riley pass the time by playing I Spy, assuming incorrectly that Zay is paying attention and playing along. But he’s not, staring into space and lost in thought as the girls survey the scenery. It’s like they’re not even in another country -- Zay could just as easily be sitting in Cory’s history class, bored out of his mind, for all the energy he’s giving right now.
Yindra is quick to call him out on it, raising an unimpressed eyebrow when her gaze settles on him during her turn.
Yindra: I spy with my little eye something short, yellow, and boring.
She snaps in front of his face, snapping him out of it. He swats her hand away, Riley laughing along as they point out he is completely on another planet.
Zay: Also, don’t insult me -- this shirt is gold, not yellow. Get it right.
Riley: I thought we agreed at the airport that we were going to live in the moment. Seize the day. Enjoy the trip and not get lost in our own heads.
Yindra: Please, don’t even bother. He’s been like this for weeks. At this point, I’m begging for Turner to get back to him so I can be put out of my misery.
Zay: Look, it’s easy for you to say, all right? You can afford to be chill about it, you don’t have a dream school.
Yindra: That’s right. You know what I’ve got? The dream. And at least in chasing that into the uncertain future, I’m not totally dialing out of right now. Like, we’re in London, Zayby. Drink some tea. Take the tube. Kiss a dude with an accent. Carpe diem.
Yeah, okay, Zay will not be doing that. And he doesn’t need the reminders or reprimands. He gets it, they’re in London, they’re in London, they’re in London… but what does locale matter, really, when your heart, mind, and soul feel thousands of miles away? Always tantalisingly out of your reach?
Suffice to say, it’s not going to be so easy to pry Zay out of his own head -- so for now, well, we’ll just have to go into it with him.
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Kiss of Venus” as performed by Dominic Fike (feat. Paul McCartney) || Performed by Zay Babineaux
As the music-box-like opening twinkles in, Yindra waves Zay off and gives up on him, letting him drift back into space. And he does, directing his gaze upward towards the giant ferris wheel and the skyline of London behind it.
Yep, they sure are in the UK… as he sings the first opening lines, somewhat detached, we slowly ease in closer to his face…
EXT. LONDON EYE - MIRROR WORLD - DAY
Until we’re close enough that it’s darkness and a blur, then we’re pulling back out, still with Zay as he continues to sing -- only everything’s flipped around. We’re occupying his mindscape, free from the conventions of reality, and with a lot of new ground to discover. He starts walking backwards on the beat, his trendy kicks stomping against the pavement, quickly reminding us that he finally, blissfully has full control of his limbs again.
And with that beautiful fact being the truth, it doesn’t take long for him to break into dance. He launches into movement as he breaks into the first chorus, the scenery of London taking more vivid shape around him.
From there, the performance acts as an artistic, groovy snapshot of this new city we’re suddenly inhabiting. Zay explores iconic landmarks and imagery of London as he goes -- dancing along the edge of the fountain in Trafalgar Square; grooving unapologetically in front of the stone-faced Queen’s Guardsmen stationed in the city; riding center in a crammed tube carriage and staring dead at the camera as he sings.
About a minute in, we’re close on his face again, and he seems to be laying down facing up at us… and as we ease out, we realize he’s not just laying in any old place. He’s on the clock face of Big Ben -- yes, the Big Ben -- his limbs mocking the movement a second hand. As the bridge continues, the screen slowly starts to tilt upright, Zay adjusting with it until he’s balancing sideways on the structure.
And this launches us into the electric second half of the number, where he really leans into the energy, fantasy, and freedom of the performance. Each of his sceneries becomes a little less restrictive and more bent to his creative will -- the tube carriage is empty now, allowing him to swing on the hand rails and climb along the seats; he’s splashing and spinning in the water in the Square; he’s now dancing amidst the whole brigade of the Queen’s Guard as they run through the changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace.
In case the message wasn’t loud and clear already -- we’re in London! We get it! More importantly, it’s so good to see Zay Babineaux moving again. Even as the song peters out and we return back to mundane, rules-of-physics-following reality, there’s a lingering energy from the mere sight of seeing him dance that sprinkles a little more magic into the scenery than before.
INT. LONDON EYE - CAPSULE 1 - DAY
Farkle is getting a good look at the view of the city from so high up, Isadora coming over to join him. She asks if it looks any different from the last time he was here, and he admits he honestly can’t remember. It was a long time ago that his family visited. He asks her a question in return, wondering aloud why she isn’t on the same capsule as Chai.
Farkle: You’d think you would’ve fought a little harder to stay together. You know, given that she’s your girlfriend.
Isadora: [ with a scoff ] It’s not my fault the class got split up. What would you have me do? Bully the tour guide into letting me jump groups?
Farkle: You have bullied less deserving people for less pressing things.
Isadora: No clue what you’re talking about. I’m a fucking delight.
Farkle snorts, earning a playful sneer from her. As charming as her deadpan delivery is, Farkle isn’t completely won over by it. Because what it really signals is that she’s avoiding answering the question, which isn’t like her at all. Farkle tries to dig deeper, asking if everything is okay between her and Chai.
Isadora: Yes. Yeah. Duh. [ defensive ] Why wouldn’t it be?
Farkle: Maybe the fact that you’re standing in this carriage arguing with me rather than enjoying time with her.
Isadora: As if bickering with you isn’t the joy of my existence.
Farkle: I’m not trying to like, judge, or whatever. I’m just asking if --
Isadora: What do you want me to say, Farkle? I said it was fine. I mean, what, do you want there to be a problem? Do you want me to tell you everything’s gone weird and I don’t know how to fix it?
Dangerous questions, Isadora! Don’t ask something like that! She’s asking it in a rhetorical way, totally unaware of the fact that Farkle doesn’t know how to honestly answer that question -- to her, or for himself.
Lucky him, he’s spared from addressing it when their conversation is interrupted. An ELDERLY WOMAN -- the kind who can’t help but share their opinion in an overly friendly way -- breaks away from her ELDERLY HUSBAND to tell them their back-and-forth is really quite loud.
Farkle: Oh, sorry about that. We’ll quiet down.
Woman: Oh, no no! Don’t mind me, loves. I find it a bit amusing to be frank -- reminds me of me and my husband here. We can bicker up a storm.
Husband: [ making her point ] No we don’t.
Woman: Married fifty-seven years, if you can believe it. [ cheerfully ] You two make an adorable couple.
Um? The two of them exchange a look, Isadora bewildered and amused whereas Farkle seems slightly panicked.
Isadora: We’re not --
Farkle: It’s not like that, we’re just --
Woman: [ ignoring their protests ] Do you want a picture? The backdrop of the city really can’t be beaten from this angle. It’s so gorgeous, isn’t it?
God, old people… really can’t keep up with them. Farkle stammers, searching for a polite way to reject the well-meant but misguided offer. But Isadora surprises him even more.
Isadora: Sure.
Farkle stares at her as the woman chirps happily, needling her husband to come take the photo because he has less shaky hands. Isadora passes over her phone, only noticing Farkle’s expression when she steps closer for the photo. She shrugs.
Isadora: What? A picture’s a picture. Might as well preserve the memory, right?
Well… yes… but… hard to argue with that. Farkle relents, still a bit stiff, but he’s not going to pass up the opportunity for a keepsake when Isadora is rare to photograph as it is. He manages to pull together a smile as they huddle together and he drapes an arm around her shoulders. His gaze lingers on Isadora as she steps forward to retrieve her phone, thanking the nosy tourist.
INT. LONDON EYE - CAPSULE 2 - DAY
Speaking of nosy women, Riley is taking some photos of her own. She’s capturing as much of the view as she can in her phone, but it obviously can’t replace the real thing. She seems dissatisfied by that fact, only pulled out of scrutinizing her work when Asher stumbles over to join her. He blindly finds the rail and holds onto it for dear life, eyes screwed shut.
Riley: [ with a chuckle ] What are you doing?
Asher: I’m such an idiot. I’m an idiot, Riley -- you are Riley, right?
Riley: Yes, rest assured. I’m actually surprised you’re on this. Aren’t you scared of heights?
Asher: Yes. Yes, I am. But I thought, why not, what better a time to conquer my fears. Gonna be doing a lot of it in the next few months, might as well start now. When in London, right? Wrong. So, so wrong.
Riley aws in sympathy, patting his back and then looping her arm through his to help brace him further. She focuses on distracting him, explaining that she’s trying to take as many photos as possible to show Lucas when they get back. She knows he said he didn’t care, but…
Asher: No, no, I think that’s nice. He’ll appreciate it. You know Lucas claims he doesn’t care about everything when he actually does like seventy percent of the time.
Riley: Yeah. I mean, he honestly probably won’t care much about the London stuff.
Asher: True. He barely tolerates Manhattan.
Riley: But later in the week when we go to like, the parks and the nature reserves and stuff… you know he’d love that. He’d act like he wasn’t into it, but he so would be. So I’ll just try to bring as much back to him as I can.
Asher: For sure. He’s lucky he has you.
Maybe it’s the crippling anxiety talking and blocking his usual filter, but Asher usually isn’t one for such casually stated declarations, so Riley takes the sentiment to heart. It’s nice to hear Lucas’s best friend say something so validating. She smiles to herself.
Riley: Anyway, I’m planning to show the pictures to Charlie, too. He loves travel and history and that sort of stuff, so I’m sure he’ll want to see all of it. So either way, won’t go to waste.
Asher: Oh, yeah. Sucks that he didn’t get to come after three years of sticking out of the worst of what Adams has to offer.
Yeah… a lot of things have felt that way with Charlie this year. But he’s got plenty of his own going on this week while they’re traipsing across the pond.
As the gentle, unassuming guitar floats in…
INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “New Start” as performed by Weary Friend || Performed by Charlie Gardner
CHARLIE GARDNER’s soft vocals drift in as we settle in his bedroom. A couple of boxes have cropped up in corners of the room, one of them labeled “donations.” Inside are discarded pieces of the Haverford uniform, the first willing sacrifice to the specter of college packing.
And I’m packing up and I’m moving out And I’m walking across the stage into a world that I’ve never seen
On the back of Charlie’s desk chair, a pale blue graduation gown is folded -- on the desk, his cap and high school diploma.
So it’s done. A graduation come and gone, just like that. When everyone else was halfway across the globe -- another important walk made alone.
EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY
On his balcony, CHARLIE GARDNER is seated with his guitar, delicately strumming through the notes. He’s dressed plainly in a tee shirt and jeans, not dressing to impress or concealed behind a uniform, and his hair has grown back out long enough that pieces of it are falling in his face as he focuses on the strings. Despite the mixed emotions of the song, he appears at ease -- honestly the most relaxed he’s looked in months. No more selling himself for applications, no more blackmailing peers.
And they ask me where I’m going And they ask me what I see ahead But if I’m being completely honest…
The threats of the past are done now. All that’s left is the daunting uncertainty of the future. Charlie pauses for a moment, taking a breath… then he exhales into the final line of the verse.
I can’t see a thing
INT. HAVERFORD PREP - AUDITORIUM - FLASHBACK - DAY
As the performance continues, a flashback allows us to actually see Charlie graduate. He rises the steps to the stage and crosses with a bashful smile to accept the diploma from AARON JACKSON. In the audience, ELEANOR GARDNER watches with tears in her eyes, AMBROSE GARDNER applauding proudly next to her.
Charlie glances towards them as he begins his exit from the stage, smiling wider when he locks eyes with ROSIE GARDNER. She’s applauding too, trying to look unimpressed, but she can’t hold back her smile. AGATHA GARDNER and DAISY GARDNER are also present, cheering along.
As he disappears into the darkness of the wings --
INT. DANCE STUDIO - FLASHBACK - DAY
At about two minutes in, Charlie emerges into an empty dance studio at a local fitness center, flicking on the lights. Plain-clothed, free for the summer, left to his own devices.
No one else around to follow. No group choreography to adhere to, no brotherhood to obey, no expectations. But he wants to dance. He wants to reconnect, find that piece of his identity again.
So he does. Slowly, imperfectly, but it’s a new start. As the music swells into the orchestral middle, Charlie rediscovers dance, pursuing and practicing the art solely for himself.
INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - FLASHBACK - NIGHT
At the same time, intercut with the lyrical, improvised choreography in the studio, Charlie starts the strange process of going through his stuff in preparation for college packing that we see in progress in the present. He discards his Haverford stuff, tossing it haphazardly into the donations box.
It gets harder, though, when the decisions aren’t so surface-level. Like old photographs, books, notebooks from Adams with notes in the margins -- nervous notes to self, scribbled conversations with Clarissa and Haley, teasing doodles and messages in Zay’s chicken scratch from studying together.
It’s easy to discard the things you’re ready to let go of. The rest, not so much.
INT. DANCE STUDIO - FLASHBACK - DAY
As the orchestration winds down, Charlie finishes a fouette turn and lands without stumbling -- a promising sign if anything. He lowers himself into a sitting position, then exhales a breath and falls onto his back, laying in the center of the dance floor and staring up at the ceiling.
I used to think that when I was grown up I’d have my life figured out I’d know exactly who I was, I’d be set in my ways not needing to change
INT. OLD DANCE STUDIO - FLASHBACK - DAY
In a different studio, dated and decorated like the late 2000s, a YOUNG CHARLIE GARDNER lays at the center of the dance floor the exact same way, staring up at the ceiling. Smaller, geekier, yet doing the same cool down, centering routing. Finding solace in the quiet of the studio even so many years ago.
But now that I’m here, I feel more like a child Still learning my lessons and needing direction Still needing direction…
EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY
As the piece swells into the final crescendo, Charlie leans into it, emotional and vulnerable. Many pieces come together in tandem with his simple vocals on the balcony, interweaving around one another. Photographs of him as a kid on the mantle in the living room, the same ones he scrutinized at the start of Season 2 during “I Hope I Get It,” now share space with his senior portrait. He continues to dance solo in the community center studio, while his younger, less polished self does the same.
He brings it all to a close back on the balcony, letting the final chords reverberate for a moment before he releases the strings. For a moment, he stays still and enjoys the quiet, the slow bleed of the familiar soundscape of the Upper East Side returning to focus around him. The distant echo of traffic. The coo of neighborhood birds. The chatter of neighbors down the street.
His home, for at least a little while longer -- before he ends up who knows where. Then he releases a sigh, taking his guitar and stepping back inside his bedroom.
EXT. LONDON EYE - DAY
The A class recongregates on the sidewalks, Riley’s group still trickling in from being released from the wheel. While Eric and Harper avidly attempt to head count and take attendance, Maya greets Farkle as he returns. She asks what he thought about the view.
Maya: Like, it was nice and all that, but eh. I’ve seen better.
Farkle: It was cool. Someone even took a picture of me and Isadora.
Maya: Oh? Paparazzi already.
Farkle: Yeah. She said we made “a cute couple.”
Maya cracks up, shaking her head. She takes his hand, patting it with her own.
Maya: Oh, Farkle, sweetie. No one would say that to you.
Farkle holds out his free arm in indignation. Well, it happened! Still, Maya remains unconvinced -- and thoroughly tickled.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - NIGHT
The rooming arrangements for the trip are… unique to say the least, considering Eric had to balance gender, sexuality, and a handful of romantic entanglements that he’s trying not to enable. That explains how Riley, Isadora, and Dylan ended up as roommates, though they seem more than content with the grouping.
Well, at first Isadora does, until her chatty roommates shift onto topics she’d rather not discuss. It starts with college, a reality she’s trying to ignore, as Riley points out this whole exercise in travel is probably good for a lot of them in preparing for whatever journeys they’ll make for the future. She also notes it’s good practice being away from Lucas with this kind of time difference -- if he goes to Davis, like she’s hoping he will, they’ll be dealing with this distance all the time.
Dylan: Totally. But you guys are going to be fine. You’ve never been like super clingy or anything. And you’re already used to him being a terrible communicator even when he’s right in front of you. Won’t have to worry that distance is causing that when you know he’s like that all the time.
Isadora: That is actually so true.
Dylan: I think the much more pressing question is how are you ever going to survive being away from me? When I’m all the way in Rochester, a whole five hours away?
Riley: I know, you’re so right… well, I guess I just have to get my fix now!
Riley surges forward and tackles Dylan with a hug, the two of them collapsing into a giggly heap on their bed. Isadora eyes them, rolling her eyes affectionately. Once they’ve rearranged themselves into some semblance of a cuddle pile, Dylan conspiratorially continues the conversation.
Dylan, jokingly: Do you think Lucas would be jealous that I’m sharing a bed with you?
Riley: Considering you’re the gayest teen in Manhattan and are happily dating his best friend? No, I think he’ll live. [ coyly ] Besides, believe it or not, Lucas and I have shared a sleeping space… more than once already.
The statement itself is factual, nothing objectionable about it, but the message is all in Riley’s mischievous delivery. They may not have had sex yet, but the extracurricular implications are clear enough even Isadora catches on. Dylan gasps in faux shock, which Riley rolls her eyes at.
Dylan: OMG… Miss Riley...
Riley: Which you already knew.
Dylan: [ another gasp, then a beam ] I did. I did already know that actually.
As cute as Dylan and Riley’s friendship is, their comfort and casual intimacy in talking about sex is pretty much the last thing Isadora wants to hear. The context of Lucas and Riley is bad enough when she has to confront it, but on top of her own recent choices, she can’t stomach it.
Isadora: Are you going to be like this all trip? If I knew I was getting Elle Woods’ sorority sisters for roommates, I would’ve asked Eric to switch my room assignment.
Yikes. Dylan and Riley quiet down immediately, exchanging an uncertain look. To engage or not to engage… just as Riley opens her mouth to ask if everything is okay, there’s a knock at their door. Dylan climbs up to get it, pulling open the door where Chai is waiting on the other side.
Perfect timing… Isadora immediately gets to her feet, Dylan offering Chai a smile before stepping back to make room. He goes and rejoins Riley on their bed as Isadora approaches the doorway, the two eyeing the couple with interest and sharing another tacit exchange.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - CORRIDOR - NIGHT
Isadora steps out into the corridor, shutting the door gently behind her. Chai gives her a smile, but it’s tight and doesn’t reach her eyes. 
Chai: Thought I’d come by and say goodnight before lights out. 
Isadora: Oh, okay. Goodnight.
Isadora begins to turn, but Chai reaches out and places a hand on her arm to stop her. Isadora flinches at the unexpected contact, pulling her arm away and rubbing the spot where Chai’s hand was.
Upset, Chai crosses her arms. She tries to start a conversation, but her heart isn’t in it, and she can tell that Isadora would rather be talking to anybody else. 
Chai: Are you okay? You haven’t been like yourself. 
Isadora: Probably just jetlag. I’m super tired. 
Chai: Yeah, maybe. [ a beat ] But you haven’t really been yourself for a while now. Are you sure --
Isadora, snapping: You haven’t really known me that long, though, have you? You’re not my therapist or Eric, so please don’t pretend like you know what’s going on with me.
Ouch. Chai is taken aback, unable to hide the hurt on her face. Isadora realises what she said and exhales, trying to take a step back from her emotions.
Chai: I wasn’t trying to --
Isadora: I know, I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m really tired. I’ll be better once I sleep.
Chai nods, unsure, but figures it’s best to just leave it. She bids Isadora a quiet goodnight and leans forward to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, but Isadora doesn’t notice this and turns to open the door. Familiar feelings of being invisible and ignored cause Chai’s eyes to gloss over as she walks away.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - NIGEL’S ROOM - NIGHT
Nigel is getting his stuff ready for tomorrow, Nate and Jeff debating something from the bathroom nook. Jeff quickly asks Nigel if he needs to use the bathroom before he takes a shower, which he claims he’s all good, and Nate declares he’s going to go adventure around the halls until the last possible minute before lights out.
Jeff: I’m sure Eric and Harper will love that.
Nate: It’s only like six in the evening in my New York brain! What do they expect me to do, go to sleep? We’ve got hours before I hit that wall.
Oh, Nate, is the jetlag gonna come for you… but no stopping him for now. Jeff ducks into the bathroom and Nate disappears into the hall, leaving Nigel alone in the room. He settles onto his bed, absorbing the uncharacteristic quiet for a moment… then he gets an idea.
He leans over and pulls the hotel phone towards him, picking up the receiver and looking for how to find the right number...
INT. LONDON HOTEL - TECHIE ROOM - NIGHT
For as much as she planned to take a break from them this trip, Jade remains stuck with a majority of techie boys as her bunkmates. Dave and Yogi have claimed one bed while she’s planning to share the other with Asher, though at the moment she’s searching for a semblance of peace and quiet by brushing her teeth in the bathroom nook.
Dave pokes his head around the doorway, quietly asking if she’s okay. Jade spits out her toothpaste then raises her eyebrows.
Jade: Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?
Dave: Well, you said you wanted to spend less time with us this trip.
Jade: I didn’t say it like that.
Dave: But here you are… stuck spending time with us. [ sincerely ] Sorry if we’re annoying you.
Jade sighs, tilting her head at him.
Jade: You could never annoy me, Dave Williams.
Dave smiles, somewhat reassured. Jade continues with a shrug, reminding him that it’s not like she hasn’t spent the last four years with ample time getting used to them. And it’s not that anything has changed about that -- she still loves them, they’re her boys, even if the ones like Nate and Dylan sometimes drive her crazy.
Jade: I just… I was hoping for something a little different this time. That’s all.
Dave clearly isn’t sure what that means, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask. The hotel phone rings, making all of them jump.
Yogi: Oh my God, those work? I thought they were just decorative.
Asher stops journaling, tentatively reaching to pick up the receiver when it’s clear no one else is going to. He says hello, listening thoughtfully, until his expression shifts to recognition. Then he cracks a small smile, glancing towards Jade hovering by the bathroom.
Asher: Yeah, sure. I’ll see if she’s available. [ holding out the receiver ] It’s for you.
Dave and Yogi exchange intrigued looks, the latter making a point of ooh-ing. Jade shoots him a look but comes to take the phone from Asher, who gives her some space and takes his journal over to the desk.
Jade, uncertainly: Hello?
INT. LONDON HOTEL - NIGEL’S ROOM - NIGHT
Nigel exhales a sigh of relief, settling back against the headboard. He returns her greeting shyly.
Nigel: I’m glad this actually worked, I wasn’t sure it would. I sort of thought these phones were mainly decorative.
The conversation cuts back and forth between the two of them, both of them speaking more softly than they probably need to under the guise of pretending they have privacy. Nigel explains he just wanted to say goodnight, which Jade smiles at. She apologizes for the fact that today didn’t really go as planned, but Nigel shrugs. Always tomorrow.
Jade: Yeah. Yeah, definitely.
Nigel: So I’ll see you tomorrow. For real this time.
Jade: [ with a laugh ] Okay. Can’t wait.
Neither of them want to say goodbye, but they must. To delay it just a minute more, though, Nigel tells Jade to make sure to check outside her door before she goes to sleep. She frowns, confused, but he refuses to elaborate. He simply insists she do her due diligence, then with one more goodnight, hangs up.
Jade gets up and heads to the door, hesitant and feeling silly… but it’s Nigel, and she trusts him. He wouldn’t tell her to do something without a good reason. Glancing over her shoulders to make sure her roommates are preoccupied, she gently pulls open the door.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - CORRIDOR - NIGHT
At first, Jade doesn’t find anything to see… until her gaze drifts downward. She lowers herself to a crouch, picking up the small gift left just outside her door.
One of the roses from the street vendor, the ones she said were beautiful, with a delicate ribbon tied around the stem. Jade laughs quietly in disbelief, then turns her focus to the small note folded underneath it with her name on it. It’s a brief message, scrawled in Nigel’s handwriting, on a piece of hotel notepad paper:
For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth.
A Shakespeare quote. Of course. How perfectly, quintessentially Nigel -- and the perfect antidote to their befuddled plans. Jade smiles, twirling the rose in her fingers and then smelling it.
Maya, pre-lap: I mean, it’s insulting, really. The complete disregard for my plans.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - DIVA ROOM - NIGHT
Maya is in the careful process of brushing her famous golden locks before bed, pacing the hotel room as she does. She’s ranting about the situation with the London Eye, remarking that with their little split she got separated from all the cool people and had to be stuck with Chai and like half of the techie gremlins -- including Asher of all people.
Maya: I really should file a complaint -- though I don’t know if it would be more effective to report Eric, or the tour company. I was very clear in my directions.
Zay: Yeah, yeah, it’s a travesty. While you’re at it, can you Karen the hotel and get them to improve their wi-fi? This service is shit.
At least, not good enough for him to compulsively check his application portal. Maya softens a bit, confirming that he still hasn’t heard from Turner. Zay tosses his phone onto the end of the bed, claiming that at this point he’d rather get a loud rejection than continue to be in suspense.
Farkle emerges from the bathroom, walking right into a trap for Maya’s ire. She comments on Zay’s predicament by pointing out that some people have confirmed opportunities right in front of them, and yet don’t appreciate it. Farkle rolls his eyes.
Zay: What, USC? Big whoop. You know Farkle was going to get in anywhere he applied considering his dad has a wealth reputation the size of Bezos.
Farkle: Um, well, I think we could give a little credit to my grades and applications.
Zay: Eh.
But no, that’s not what Maya was talking about. She loftily mentions the existence of the business card, getting the immediate attention of both boys. Zay sits upright.
Zay: Wait, what?
Farkle: Maya!
Maya: … oh, was I not supposed to mention it? [ flatly ] Oops…
Zay eyes Farkle, expecting further information. Reluctantly, Farkle gives him the short version -- that when they were in Los Angeles, he crossed paths with a talent agent who liked what he saw. So now he’s got this business card for if he’s ever back in the area. Zay blinks, shaking his head.
Zay: I’m sorry, let me see if I got this right. When we went to Los Angeles for Valerie De La Cruz’s funeral, you somehow managed to stumble into a situation to show a talent agent what you have to offer, and they liked it? Enough to give you their card?
Farkle: It was actually an audition. They wanted me to take the part, but I wanted to come back and finish senior year, so --
Zay scoffs, even more disbelieving. Maya holds out a hand, emphasizing her unspoken point. Farkle scrambles to explain himself, to validate his reasons for putting everything on hold and still not being sure he’s going to pursue it, but after a few moments Zay waves him down. He shuts down the conversation, claiming he can’t process this information right now.
Zay: Unbelievable. I can’t with this. I’m going to bed, and I’m going to sleep off this reveal and pretend I never learned it. Goodnight.
Farkle: Zay, it’s not like --
Maya: That’s all? I need you to give him one of your tough love bitch smackdowns --
Zay: I’M GOING TO SLEEP. GOODNIGHT.
Zay hits the light switch by his bed and sends the room into half-darkness, flopping onto his side and turning away from them. Maya and Farkle eye each other, the latter scowling at her. She smiles innocently.
Farkle marches over and hits the other light switch, throwing us into darkness --
INT. COACH - MOVING - DAY
But the sunlight is bright as the A class embarks on their second day, en route to the famous Westminster Abbey. It should be an exciting prospect, and it would be -- if the A class wasn’t thoroughly jetlagged and half-asleep on the bus. Dylan is asleep, leaning against a drowsy Asher.
Simon does his best to rouse them, trying to energise the bus with some riveting Westminster trivia. But it falls flat, especially on such a dead crowd. Their bus driver for the trip, a portly and blunt woman named FREYA, tells him to give it up. They’re second-day Americans, they’re gonna be pretty useless for much of the day.
Eric offers some optimism, though, patting Simon on the shoulder and assuring him they’ll put together. They’ll perk up soon… hopefully… Dave yawns loudly, not accenting Eric’s point well.
INT. GARDNER HOME - KITCHEN - DAY
Back in Manhattan, Eleanor has plenty of energy to spare. She’s in full-on planner mode as she pieces together final details for Charlie’s graduation reception, binders and notes spread out on the kitchen table and phone cradled between her shoulder and ear as she confirms some last-minute details.
Rosie and Daisy watch from the kitchen counter, since she’s taken over the dining table, having their breakfast. It’s quite the intimidating spectacle, watching their mom helicopter parent.
Daisy: Intense. Imagine what it’ll be like if he gets married.
Rosie: Think I might drop out to avoid this -- though I doubt she’d put in this much effort for me.
Daisy: I’d do that, but unfortunately, I need secondary education to get into a good college for environmental science. So.
Well, Daisy sure dropped that life plan nonchalantly. Seems she’s got it all figured out -- if only she would share some of that with Charlie! Rosie starts to ask follow up questions, but Daisy is done eating, walking away without comment.
Eleanor glances up from her things while she’s on hold with the caterers, asking Rosie if she’s heard from Charlie at all today. She feels like she hasn’t seen him since yesterday. He’s supposed to be picking up his suit, but if he doesn’t let her know, how is she supposed to know for sure… Rosie shrugs, claiming she doesn’t know. Then she pulls out her phone, crafting a quick text.
INT. THE GAP - DAY
Charlie is picking up his suit jacket as instructed, but there’s a reason he’s not keeping Eleanor updated. He glances at the text from Rosie, warning him that Mom is running just under nuclear and wondering where he is. How much longer is he going to be out?
Before he can type a response, that reason for secrecy returns to his side -- BRIDGETTE GARDNER, running the errand with him. She hands over the suit jacket put on hold for him, complete with a tie selection and suggested slack colors to match. Charlie informs her that they need to work fast because Mom is in blitz mode. Bridgette isn’t surprised, gesturing for him to try on the jacket then.
He does, pulling his arms through the sleeves. Once he’s straightened out the sleeves and adjusted the buttons, they both get a look at him in the standing mirror. It doesn’t look bad at all -- pretty classic and inoffensive in plain navy. The tie pulled to go with it is just a shade off from black, making the whole ensemble very unremarkable.
Bridgette: Looks nice. Just exactly like Mommy laid it out for you the night before.
She playfully pats his cheek, earning a scowl from him. She comments that she’s surprised Eleanor hasn’t made him cut his hair for the occasion, as it’s getting pretty long again.
Charlie: … she might have suggested it once or twice. I changed the subject.
Bridgette scoffs. Of course. But at least Charlie is resisting her influence. Bridgette thinks he could afford to do it more, given that this ensemble for the reception is so insanely boring he might as well be going to a funeral.
Bridgette: Hear me out. What about… glitter? Just a little on the lapels. Oh, or maybe like some leather -- walk into church in some actually well-fitting pants and I promise you about half the congregation will drop dead.
Charlie: Gee, thanks, but I’m not trying to commit mass murder. You may as well have me wear a bedazzled rainbow suit and tattoo a pride flag on my face.
Bridgette: Would be an improvement from what you’ve got now.
Be that as it may, Charlie just wants this reception to go smoothly. If that means wearing what mom thinks looks best, then whatever. Not like it matters.
Bridgette: See, I used to think like that, and then I discovered lace bralette tops. Never going back. [ a beat ] I’m just saying, it’s your party. I think you should be able to express a little bit of yourself while you’re there. At least consider a different tie?
Charlie: … fine. You get three chances to change my mind.
Bridgette accepts the challenge, settling into digging through the displays of neckties to find the strongest contenders. Charlie changes the subject, reflecting on the fact that Bridgette doesn’t even get to be at the reception to see him wear it if he does decide to shake it up. She states that the knowledge of her assistance will be enough, but he doesn’t agree.
Charlie: It’s not fair. I mean, you didn’t get to go to the ceremony, you don’t get to come to this…
Bridgette: Yes, such are the trials and tribulations of being the exile. Missing out on all the thrilling social engagements of blessed high society.
Charlie: I’m serious. Don’t you want to be there?
Bridgette pauses, taking in his sincere indignation. While confronting their mom isn’t exactly high on her agenda, it’s clear from the expression on his face that he wants her there. She shrugs, focusing on the ties.
Bridgette: I already accepted the fact that I was gonna miss out on this stuff. You know? I got over that when I got over everything else. You have to -- if you get stuck on shit like that, it just… makes it harder. And at that point, you can’t handle harder.
Bottom line, he shouldn’t get all worked up on her behalf. He can have his perfect, polished graduation reception without her, and then they’ll do something to celebrate on their own. She finishes pulling a third selection and double checks that she’s satisfied with her picks, then hands them to Charlie and swaps for his boring Eleanor-approved tie.
Bridgette: I’m taking this back to the personal shopper. He can put it back on the rack -- that or burn it, which will be my humble suggestion. You’re wearing one of those.
Charlie: Oh, so it’s bad when mom tells me what to wear, but when you do it, it’s fine.
Bridgette: Yes. Obviously. Just think of it as representation on my behalf, as the poor little exile.
The comment is said in jest, but it’s clear Charlie genuinely isn’t satisfied with how she’s being left out from all his celebrations. She may have made peace with it, but he’s struggling to do the same. He glances down at the neckties, sifting through the colorful and patterned selections.
EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - CLOISTERS - DAY
With its high ceilings, ancient decor and dark lighting, Westminster Abbey very much gives Hogwarts vibes. Simon is in the midst of leading a walking tour around it, holding up a small but bright yellow flag to ensure the group doesn’t get lost. The class is still a little groggy, since Simon’s monotone voice doesn’t inspire much excitement. 
Simon: One of the many monarchs buried here at Westminster is the queen known as “Bloody Mary,” also known as Mary Tudor. She was the last Catholic monarch --
Dave: I wonder if Charlie knows her. 
Simon: And was responsible for 280 people being burned at the stake due to their protestantism. The myth of Bloody Mary is often combined with that of Mary, Queen of Scots, who’s also buried here. She was Queen of Scotland, and claimed that the English throne belonged to her, not her cousin Elizabeth I. Because of this, Elizabeth had her cousin beheaded. 
Nate: Sick. 
Simon: Rumour has it Bloody Mary haunts various sites across the UK, and that if you say her name three times in a row, she’ll make an appearance.
The techie boys all share excited looks while Darby and Haley both look outright disturbed. Simon continues on, unaware of the reactions behind him.
Eric steps through the crowd with his phone to his ear, nodding, then lowers it against his chest as he approaches Riley. He pulls her aside from where she’s listening with Dylan and Asher, speaking to her quietly so as to not interrupt. As the one with the unlimited international plan for this trip, he’s the point person for any important communication.
Eric: Hey, your dad’s on the phone.
Riley: What? Is everything okay?
Eric: Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. He just… your Tisch letter came in the mail. He wants to know if he should open it or not.
Oh. Riley processes that, glancing towards Dylan and Asher. They nod her along, and she nods to Eric, taking the phone from him and stepping a bit away to talk to Cory. She gives him permission to open the letter, waiting on the other end of the line impatiently. She twists a thread on the end of her lavender silk blouse, the seconds ticking by impossibly slow…
Then the results are in. Riley absorbs what her dad tells her, blinking.
Riley: Waitlisted. [ a long beat ] Um, are you sure? What does it --
She’s cut off as Cory presumably reads from the letter, confirming the intel. She’s been waitlisted for Tisch.
For as unbothered as she acted about the whole thing, the news is still a bit overwhelming. She clears her throat, assuring Cory that she’s fine and really needs to catch up with the group. Once they say goodbye, she makes her way back over to Dylan and Asher, managing a smile. But they can tell she’s not herself, cautiously asking what the verdict is.
Riley: Um, waitlisted.
Dylan: No way.
Asher: Oh, well… look, that’s not bad. It could still turn around.
Riley: Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.
Asher: It’s not so much a rejection as it is, like… you know, just waiting to see if --
Riley: The better people say yes first.
Well, when you put it like that… Asher bites his tongue, deciding not to add anything since he’s clearly not helping. Dylan asks if she wants to take a minute, or if she wants them to wait with her, but she waves them off. She’ll be fine.
Riley: Think I just want to be alone for a second. If that’s okay.
Dylan and Asher nod, offering condolences one more time but also assuring her that Tisch doesn’t know what they’re holding out on. It’s their loss. She smiles, appreciative, but it’s faint.
Then she’s alone, left to absorb these new developments. She could hold out on the unlikely, pretending like she’s on the same level as Maya, Nigel, or any other of her incredibly talented friends… or she can let it go, start thinking more practically, and be able to start planning her future.
There’s just that lingering worry, the one creating the lump in her throat, that if she makes the wrong choice, she’s going to regret it forever.
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Chasing Pavements” as performed by Adele || Performed by Riley Matthews
Rather than focusing on unrequited romance, Riley’s soulful rendition of the early Adele hit is concerned around her future. For as composed as she’s been able to appear about the whole thing while her friends spiral, the pressure of such major decisions has been weighing on her too -- and with a result like “waitlist,” she’s simultaneously let down yet still trapped in uncertainty. She was hoping for this admission decision to make the tough choices for her, to show her how she feels and what she wants from her future.
Does she want to risk it all and pursue a lofty goal like performing when it’s never been her core motivation, when it’s not her whole entire world like her friends -- but she might be just good enough to make something out of it? Is it worth chasing that elusive maybe, when that maybe might never materialize, waitlisting her forever… and when she could conceivably imagine herself doing something else, even if she doesn’t know what that something else is yet?
And maybe it hurts so much because it speaks to an even greater problem, which is that Riley herself feels stuck on an eternal waitlist. The blow just reiterates what she’s always known: that she’s second best, second choice, the belle of the ball only when all the other debutantes have passed. Maybe a single college acceptance shouldn’t feel that way, but it does, and the ache of it is loud and clear as Riley meanders her way through the corridors of Westminster Abbey and belts it out. It’s a rather poignantly beautiful performance with the historic, grand abbey as her stage.
As the song comes to an end, Riley slips down and settles onto one of the stone benches, tilting her head back against the glass window behind her. The empty feeling expands as we ease away, her solitude emphasized by how vast the corridors seem around her.
INT. CHUBBIES - DAY
Riley isn’t the only one feeling stranded in regards to their dreams. Lucas is in a low mood, spending his time moping behind the counter at Chubbies when he should be on his way to Albany for his interview. It would be easier to be angry, but the only person he can get mad at is himself, so muted frustration and disappointment will do.
He lifts his gaze from the register when Charlie walks through the door, one of the only customers who’s trailed in so far that morning. He makes a point of noting the emptiness himself as he approaches the counter.
Charlie: Quiet in here, huh? Guess when Adams heads out there’s really no one left to patronize this place.
Lucas: Would you judge me if I said I liked it?
Charlie laughs. He claims he wouldn’t judge, given that he’s out also looking for a little quiet and change of pace. He mentions his family and all of the hubbub around his reception, which it’s clearly nice to step away from for a bit.
Lucas: Oh, right. You graduated this week, right?
Charlie: Yeah. Basically the same day everybody else left.
Lucas: Great timing. But uh, congratulations, or whatever.
Not the most eloquent good tidings, but Charlie will take it. The conversation drifts to more general post-graduate discussion, ultimately prompting Lucas to admit when asked about his college prospects that he was accepted into UC Davis. In fact, he was even offered a potential scholarship. Charlie brightens, knowing from Riley how big a deal it is.
Charlie: Seriously? That’s amazing! Congratulations. You must be excited.
Lucas: You’d think I would be. Only it’s not happening. I can’t get the scholarship, so I can’t go.
Charlie: What? Why not?
Lucas isn’t one to just dump his personal baggage out for anyone to see, but there’s something so inexplicably disarming about Charlie that he finds himself saying it anyway. That, and all that frustration he’s been stifling all morning is desperate to slip out.
Lucas: Because for whatever reason the stupid thing is upstate in Albany, rather than like, a centralized logical location like downtown.
Charlie: They probably had more than one session for out-of-state applicants. At least it’s in New York.
Lucas: I guess. It’s my fault, anyway, because I could’ve planned accordingly, but I’m a fucking idiot who waited until the last second to ask for a ride, and my only resource can’t help. And I tried looking up ride shares but it’ll take like a million dollars to get there and back, which defeats the purpose anyway since I’m going to this interview to lick some boots for a scholarship because I don’t have any money.
Lucas concludes his mini-rant by pointedly shutting the cash register drawer, which dings in protest. Charlie processes his complaints, trying to keep up.
Charlie: Where’d you say it was again?
Lucas: Albany. [ irritably ] It’s only like a couple hours away, which honestly makes it worse, because it’s that damningly close and yet I still can’t get to it --
Charlie: Dude, I can drive you.
Oh. Wasn’t expecting that. Lucas pauses his irritable fidgeting, staring at him for a long moment before realizing he’s genuinely offering.
Lucas: … are you serious?
Charlie: Yeah! Like you said, Albany’s not even that far. I like a drive, and I don’t think you should have to miss out on the chance to see this through just because you don’t have the means to get there. Besides, I owe you one for helping me with Brandon.
Lucas: No, no. No, we’re already even. I evened it. Because that was for you doing the transfer thing --
Charlie: [ with humor ] Look, we could do this all day. Or, we can get going so you can make it to your interview on time -- though you’ll probably want to change first.
Perhaps. Lucas glances down at his Chubbies uniform.
INT. SCHOOL BOARD OFFICES - MORRIS’S OFFICE - DAY
Meanwhile, Jack is at his prior engagement, sitting down for coffee with GEORGE MORRIS (60s). He’s a member of the old guard for sure, conventional and establishment, but unlike Jefferson and Yancy he tends to formulate his opinions on each issue independently and votes accordingly. He’s not easily influenced... which makes his impending retirement of particular interest. Whoever rises to occupy his vacant spot may just tip the scales of the school board towards a progressive or conservative lean.
It’s a fact that is clearly on Jack’s mind as they chat, starting on the subject of Jack’s forced probation and reapplication for the leadership role at Adams. Morris voted during the Bradford debacle for Lucas to be able to stay at Adams -- he found the whole situation quite ridiculous and time-wasting, to be frank, more spectacle than anything worthwhile -- but he admits that he also voted for Jack to be put up for reapplication.
Morris: My thinking was that if you were still best suited for the position, then your reapplication should be swift and effortless. You have a strong track record despite Yancy’s observations, which are biased, and it wouldn’t take much to win the job back. Sure, it’s another symbolic, time-wasting gesture, but it would settle the matter.
That being said, he did note that Jack has yet to actually submit said reapplication… which provides a perfect segue into why he knows Jack is really here.
Morris: You don’t have to beat around the bush, Jackson. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that I’ll be taking my leave at the end of this contract year.
Jack: That might be true, yes.
Morris: Evelyn mentioned you very well may eye my spot. In fact, she seemed to suspect such a thing before you even caught wind of the possibility. She’s keen, Evelyn, insightful. Knows her colleagues much better than most, sees potential that others don’t. That’s why she makes an excellent board member.
Jack admits it’s not out of the realm of possibility in his mind… in the time that he’s been an administrator, he’s learned a lot, but one thing that always frustrates him is when he loses the ability to tackle bigger issues once they elevate beyond his pay grade. There are bigger, more systemic issues affecting the students of Manhattan that he wishes would get more attention, that he could dedicate more concerted effort towards without sacrificing his attention to Adams or risking overstepping his bounds. And certainly becoming a school board member wouldn’t magically fix any of those problems, but it’s a new angle on it. A new starting point, a place where he can create initiatives and try to organize funding towards the things he believes matter above all else.
That’s true, and Morris commends his passion. The board can be a painfully bureaucratic institution, and it could benefit from some fresh spirit. But he has to advise him to seriously consider the process it would entail as well. The school board is an elected position. Jack would have to campaign, build a following, and garner enough support to win the spot. And like most elected positions, he wouldn’t be able to hold onto his current position in the meantime -- if Jack decides to throw his hat in the ring and run for the board, he will have to forfeit his role at Adams to do it. And if he doesn’t make the cut, he’ll be starting over.
Still, that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t consider it. It’s just important to examine all the angles before he makes a move as big as this -- and it’s evident that Jack seriously is.
INT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - HENRY VII CHAPEL - DAY
At the same time, the A class has begun their free roam at the abbey, allowing them to break off into smaller groups. There’s a lot to explore, so they’ve got a decent chunk of time to do so.
Jade and Nigel have wandered off on their own and arrived at the chapel, Clarissa and Haley the only other two A class folks in the same chamber. Jade approaches the steps in awe, complimenting the architecture and talking about how she remembers watching Kate and William get married live on TV.
Jade: Wasn’t my idea though, for the record. My brother was weirdly obsessed with the royals for a time -- he’s one of those Americans that had a union jack hanging up in his room in middle school.
Nigel: Sure.
Jade: I was much more interested in the fashion. I remember being so amazed by Kate’s dress… I mean, the attention to detail on the lace sleeves, and the train…
Nigel’s turn to be fond of Jade nerding out. The two of them settle at the base of the altar, basically mirroring where the royals stood at said wedding with the beauty of the church towering behind them. He claims she’s already designed and created pieces equally as stunning, if not more impressive. Who knows? Maybe she’ll be designing for the royals one day.
Jade: Wouldn’t my brother love that... but I don’t know. To get that kind of gig I would have to actually have credentials first, which is not going to happen if I don’t get a really good apprenticeship.
Nigel: Still nothing from any of them?
Jade: No. And it’s not like that’s a bad thing, yet, most of them don’t start reaching out until like… mid-summer. But with everyone else figuring stuff out and starting to nail down all their plans, kind of just makes me feel… adrift.
There are certainly others who relate at the moment. Nigel steps closer and takes her hands, waiting for her to look at him.
Nigel: It’s all gonna shape out. Even if you don’t take the traditional path, I really don’t see how you couldn’t find your footing in the industry when your portfolio is literally spectacular. And if worse comes to worse, you’ll make your own way. You can like market your designs on social media and stuff -- Yindra’s good at the branding thing, she could probably help. Dylan, too, though I’m not exactly sure he has a method to his madness.
Jade: Well, he’s doing something right, with what, sixty-thousand followers and counting? Still can’t believe it.
Nigel: My point is, you’ll get there one way or another. And I’ll help, even if I have to go door-to-door at NYU singing your praises. I’m well-versed in the art of the monologue, you’d be impressed how much information I can eloquently cram into thirty seconds of time before they inevitably slam the door in my face.
Jade laughs, thanking him for his unabashed support -- and risking social pariah syndrome to do it. He nods, proud, and the moment grows soft between them. Nothing but fond smiles and the gentle beauty of the cathedral around them… they drift closer together, to share a regally romantic kiss of their own…
Only they’re startled out of the moment by Nate, who marches into the room and loudly comments on how great the acoustics are. The rest of the techie boys follow, officially disrupting the peaceful nature from moments earlier.
Nate: I swear, it’s like an amplifier in here. Echo game for days. [ quietly ] Nate’s the best. [ louder, playing with the echoes ] NATE’S THE BEST!
Yogi and Jeff shush him, but it’s not very effective when they’re laughing. Jade groans under her breath, lightly crossing her eyes in irritation before descending down from the altar. Nigel hesitates, then goes after her, the laughter of their peers echoing around the stone architecture.
EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - DAY
Zay is fielding some annoyance of his own, meandering along with Farkle along the exterior grounds of the abbey. They’re near the perimeter of the burial grounds, Farkle rattling off an insane amount of trivia to fill the silence as Zay does his best to ignore him. How he got stuck with him, he doesn’t know, but Farkle seems more than content to trail behind him and bother him with facts he didn’t need to know.
Farkle: Did you know there are over three-thousand people buried at the abbey?
Zay: Why the hell would I know that?
Farkle: Well, I do.
As if that’s the marker for common knowledge. Zay shakes his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets, but Farkle isn’t thrown by his silence. He continues on unperturbed.
Farkle: That statistic includes many royals and all the Tudors -- save for Henry the VIII, that is, who opted to be buried with his favorite wife, Jane Seymour. Though there’s debate about that, too, considering many Tudor enthusiasts actually believe his true love was Catherine of Aragon, but Jane was the one who gave him a male heir. Which she then died for -- childbirth complications -- so guess maybe he felt a little sorry for her.
Zay: [ under his breath ] Think if he had a favorite wife it would be his only wife…
Farkle: Well, sure, maybe by our present-day standards. But monogamy and marriage for love rather than strategy and lineage is really much more modern a practice than most people realize. Anyway, definitely wouldn’t have been Henry the VIII’s game, since he literally created a new branch of Christianity so he could divorce his wife, which wasn’t allowed under Roman Catholicism. So he’s always been a bit of a I’m-Not-Like-Other-Monarchs guy.
They’re going to have to bury Zay at the abbey if Farkle keeps this up and bores him to death.
Farkle: But you think he’d be buried here, considering he’s the reason the church exists as an Anglican denomination like it does now. It used to be a monastery before he had England separate from the Catholic church. Charlie and I got into an argument about this once, actually, in Cory’s class -- well, I don’t know if I can say argument, since Charlie is really only capable of slightly lukewarm debate -- because he thought the date was before --
The relentless trivia is one thing, but a Charlie name-drop is just too much. Zay is trying to avoid thinking about all of the above. He stops walking, Farkle accidentally ramming into him.
Zay: No offense, Farkle, but I quite literally could not give less of a shit. I’m trying to enjoy the scenery, but I can’t even hear myself be unimpressed over your lecture.
Farkle: Some people find fun facts charming.
Zay: Well, you should go find those weirdos and flock with them then. Seriously, acres of ancient architecture for you to roam and somehow, you end up with me. Wouldn’t you rather be competing with Isadora for knowing how many stones make up the cathedral or some shit?
Farkle: Sorry! Maybe I would be, if things were normal. But at this point anything is better than having to trail around behind her and play third wheel with…
Oh, yeah. Right. Zay forgot about the little detail of Chai. He can empathise with that, wanting to avoid unpleasant circumstances that you have no power to change… he sighs.
Zay: Whatever. It’s fine. You can stay, but we’re going to walk quietly. Enjoy the posh, pretentious ambience. Quietly. Got it?
Farkle: Sure. Totally. I can do that.
Zay nods, beginning to saunter along again. Farkle does his best to follow the rule, biting his tongue as he dawdles behind him… but it doesn’t last long. It’s just not in his nature. It’s sweet of Zay to pretend it could be, but they both know that’s not reality.
Farkle: Bet you can’t guess what famous scientist is buried here.
Zay: Jesus Christ…
No, Zay, he wasn’t a scientist. Good try, though!
Charlie, pre-lap: And what unique eccentricities do you bring to the table that you think would make a meaningful addition to the UC community?
INT. CHARLIE’S CAR - DAY
Charlie and Lucas have made it to the interview venue with a few minutes to spare, so they’re maximizing their time. Charlie has his phone open to a list of typical scholarship interview questions and they’re essentially doing a mock interview. Lucas is now dressed in the nice button-down he wore to Topanga’s, looking much more put together than he did in his uniform.
And though they’re doing their usual thing of not making eye contact as they converse, it’s obvious that the practice is valuable to Lucas. He’s able to stumble through his thoughts, pausing and rethinking and starting over in the middle of a sentence, when he won’t be allowed such a luxury once he gets in there. Charlie listens attentively, tossing glances at him and nodding in approval if he says something particularly effective or well-spoken.
Once they’ve made it through the last question, Charlie compliments his efforts. It’s clear he has a lot to say once he finds the right words, and he can spin it all pretty well.
Charlie: These sort of things are more a formality anyway, honestly. They usually have their mind made up about who they want to give the scholarships to -- this is more about confirming that you’re not like, secretly deranged or a total recluse.
Lucas: Oh, really? Then I should skip it. Would hate to confirm their worst fears.
Charlie side-eyes him, smirking as he shakes his head.
Charlie: You’ll be fine. Deliver even a fraction of the confidence you usually have and you’ll win them over.
Lucas: [ with a snort ] Yeah, right. Sure.
That response surprises Charlie. He looks at him.
Charlie: I mean it.
Lucas: I don’t know what Kool-aid they had you drink at Haverford, but I think it fucked with your head. No one would call me the epitome of confidence.
Charlie: Oh, come on. That’s so not true. You’re like, one of the most unflappable people at Adams. Everyone thinks so.
Lucas: Did we go to the same school?
Charlie: I didn’t say it meant they liked you, but I bet if you asked anyone from our class they’d say you’ve got confidence. Maybe not the same brand as Maya, or Isadora, but you know who you are. You’re unapologetic about it. And you do your own thing, you’re not scared of anything. That gives you like… a quiet power. People notice that, it’s admirable. I wish I could be like that. I’m sure the interview panel will see it, too.
Charlie’s talent for saying the exact right thing in earnest strikes again, and at just the right moment. Lucas absorbs the sentiment. He’s so used to the narratives that are unflattering, all the ways he’s been villainized, it’s weird that in the midst of all that turbulence he may have had silent admirers for every disdainful naysayer.
Lucas quickly changes the subject, pointing out that Charlie was helpful at coaching him. He asks if he had to do a lot of interviews for his schools, which Charlie denies. He wasn’t up for scholarship in most cases considering his family is well-off, and he’s pretty sure his grades and community service did most of the selling for him. It’s all about the surface-level achievement anyway. No one is especially interested in getting to know him beyond the shiny stats, and he can’t blame them.
Lucas: Well, why do you want to go there?
Charlie: What?
Lucas: To Yale or whatever. I just mean like… you know, I’m only doing all this shit for Davis because it has something I really want. A way to get to something I think I want to do. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be worth the stress, and it definitely wouldn’t be worth the money. Why do you want to go there, beyond the… shiny stats?
Good question, Lucas. Very, very good question. One that Charlie can’t answer, even as he opens his mouth to do so. He feels invisible to their institutions, but maybe that’s equally as much about him as it is about them.
He’s spared for now. Lucas’s phone buzzes, warning him that he has ten minutes until his interview slot, so he better get going. Charlie wishes him luck as he climbs out of the car. Then it’s just him, stuck sitting with the huge hole in his future plans Lucas incidentally broke open.
INT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - NAVE - DAY
Various students wander around the nave of the church -- the main area with pews, memorials and icons hung on columns. Amidst the students are Isadora and Chai, who walk in silence, awkward tension surrounding them following their not-so-pleasant goodnight the day before.
While Isadora focuses on the intricately decorated screen that leads to the quire, Chai takes a selfie with Isaac Newton. Well, his statue, anyway. Chai asks Isadora to be in a picture with her, so Isadora lightly smiles and poses. Chai snaps the pic, then puts away her phone. Things seem to be a little more comfortable between them, so Chai broaches the topic of last night.
Chai: Listen, about what happened yesterday --
From this side of the nave, Isadora has a better view of the pews and finds whatever it was she was searching for. Unaware of the fact that Chai is mid-sentence, Isadora rushes towards a particular row of pews. Chai takes a moment to swallow down her annoyance, then follows.
Isadora slowly makes her way down the pew, analysing the space and holding out her hands as a way to measure how much room would be needed for each person to sit. Curious, Chai watches as Isadora settles on one spot. Tension lifts from Isadora’s face and she lets out a breath of relief before turning and sitting down. Chai shuffles in to sit next to her and looks in the same direction, wondering if this particular spot allows for a better view, but doesn’t notice anything. 
Chai: Why are we sitting here? 
Isadora: This is where my mom sat at Will and Kate’s wedding.
Chai is surprised, and allows herself to take in the fact that she’s sitting next to where Valerie De La Cruz once sat. It’s impressive, honestly, that Isadora remembers exactly where Val sat a whole decade after. Despite how much Isadora once claimed she didn’t care about her mother, this goes to show that she always cared -- a lot. 
Chai: Wow. Were you her plus one or something?
Isadora: [ with a shake of her head ] I watched it on TV with my foster family. Her plus one was some race car driver.
Unsure what to say next, Chai lets quiet settle between them. The opportunity to discuss the night before is gone, but Chai reassures herself that things are better today, like Isadora said. Maybe it was just jetlag…
She tentatively slides her hand towards Isadora’s and brushes it with her fingers, but Isadora once again flinches at the contact and pulls her hand away. She slides down the pew a little to create distance between her and Chai, which only rubs salt into the wound.
Knowing where she isn’t wanted, Chai wordlessly gets up and leaves. Her absence doesn’t even register with Isadora, who continues to sit in silence.
A different collection of Adams students also wander around the nave, Yindra leading the charge. She’s on a mission, approaching the front pews and claiming she wants to get the chance to pray while they’re there. Maya raises her eyebrows, amused.
Maya: Really? I didn’t take you for that kind of religious zealot.
Yindra: Your dismissive attitude notwithstanding, I see it as less zealous and more seizing an opportunity. I’m not going to pass up the chance to send out a prayer for my future in one of the most famous places of Christian worship there is. I’ll take any moment to put good energy into the universe and give a little thanks to God for what I’ve already got -- especially given the odyssey I’m about to embark on.
Well said, Yindra. Touché… Maya takes this challenge, pointedly sauntering off to a kneeler of her own. She settles down with uncertainty, clearly unfamiliar with how any of this religious stuff works. She’s a bit subconscious about it, glancing around her to make sure no one can see her being so visibly out of her element.
Maya: Where’s Charlie Gardner when you need him…
But Charlie isn’t there, the one time Maya has probably ever thought he would be useful to have around, so she’s on her own. She takes a deep breath, blowing air out through her lips almost as if she’s doing vocal warm ups.
Maya: Dear God -- oh, no, wait --
She clasps her hands together, mimicking prayer as she’s seen in the movies. There, better. She nods, satisfied, then tries again.
Maya: So, like… hey there. God. Or, whoever you are. If you’re there. Look, I don’t really do this thing, but Amino made her point, and I can’t let her one-up me. She’s already my strongest competition in the world of up and coming female superstars. No special advantages for her. [ pausing ] Anyway, I know I don’t have the wherewithal to be asking you for anything, since I’m not exactly a “worshipper.” And I wouldn’t expect it anyway -- I’ll be making my own way, cosmic interference or not, so it’s no biggie.
If God is up there listening, he has to be laughing. No one can say Maya Hart isn’t one of his most entertaining creatures… then she grows more serious, clearing her throat.
Maya: I actually thought, if it’s like, allowed, that I’d put in a request for someone else. And don’t worry, he’s one of your precious children who actually practices religion and all that, so you’ll be more willing to help him I’m sure. But um… you should send some guidance to my friend, Farkle. If you do that sort of thing. He’s got… an amazing opportunity in front of him, and all of the talent in the world to see it through -- in a surprisingly frail package. And I know he wants to follow it, that in his heart he wants to break away and see where this takes him, but… something’s holding him back. I don’t know why. I guess he’s scared, maybe. But I think this hesitation is going to keep him stuck, and he’s going to regret it.
Maya pauses, glancing up at the elegant opulence of the church in front of her. Though she’s not a believer and probably never will be, she can appreciate why someone would be. There’s something to it, the feeling of kneeling there in humility and sensing just how small you are. Small, and yet, still worth listening to in even the quietest prayers. She has to love the drama of it, in any case.
Maya: He needs to take the leap and see how far he can go. He can’t pass this up. Please don’t let him pass this up. [ a beat ] Oh, and like, amen. Thanks.
Maya bounces back to her feet, stepping away from the kneeler. As we hang on the stained glass windows shimmering with sunlight…
Interviewer, pre-lap: And why, in your opinion, should we take a chance on you? All things considered.
INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY
Lucas is seated opposite three representatives from UC Davis admissions, who we can only see from behind. We’re focused on Lucas instead, giving ample effort to put his best foot forward and make a strong impression. He’s not inauthentic -- no fake smiles or overt charm here -- but like Charlie said, he has a unique, quiet charisma. When he answers their question, speaking carefully and precisely to get every word right, there’s a soft intensity to it that is more compelling than any practiced grin could be.
Lucas: I want to study veterinary medicine, which has its roots in biology. And as far as I understand it, the core tenet to any living organism is growth. Being able to adapt, to evolve, become a better and more resilient version of what came before. And in many cases, organisms need support and the right environment to achieve that growth. The right nutrients, water, sunlight. There’s nothing in the randomness of the universe that says we have to support those things, to sustain life, but it happens anyway. [ a beat ] I know I’m not perfect. I’m not the ideal candidate on paper, and any look at my permanent record would warrant second thoughts. But I’m improving. I’m evolving. You can see it in my application -- it takes a lot of adaptation to go from expulsion at one school to being class president of another. It’s not easy, and it’s a lot of work, but… I’m putting in the effort to be better than I was before. You don’t have to take a chance on me, but… I believe with the proper environment -- Davis -- I can grow into something worth putting your support and money behind.
The interview panel considers this, one member nodding along while a couple others jot down notes. Lucas releases a breath, having endured the worst of it.
Behind his chair where his bookbag rests, his phone screen lights up with a silenced phone call. Eric’s contact name pops on the screen…
EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - DAY
But the call goes unanswered, leaving Riley waiting on the other end even more disappointed. She leaves a quick message when it goes to voicemail.
Riley: Hi, it’s Riley. I’m calling from Eric’s phone because he has the international plan -- I hope everything is going okay. I just, um… I got some news and I wanted to share it with you, so give me a call back when you get the chance. No rush or anything. And try me on my cell first, because we’ll probably be at the hotel and should be able to at least try wi-fi… but um, yeah. Okay. I miss you. Hopefully talk to you soon. Love you, bye.
She reluctantly hangs up, Eric approaching cautiously. She hands the phone back to him, thanking him for letting her use it. He does his best to reassure her that getting waitlisted is not the end of the world by any means. In fact, there is a silver lining to it in that Riley is clearly good enough to keep under consideration rather than outright rejection.
Riley: Just not good enough to accept.
Eric: Hey, a delayed acceptance is still an acceptance. The destination is the destination, regardless of how long it takes to get there. And you’ve got some information now that you didn’t before, which should help you in figuring out what to do next.
Fair enough. Riley tries to accept that positive spin, allowing the hug Eric gives her. Then he braces her shoulders and waits for her to meet his eyes.
Eric: You get to decide what happens next. That’s the most important thing. Don’t forget that.
Hear, hear. Riley nods, offering a light smile. The two of them head back towards the rest of the group, off to their next stop.
EXT. REGENT’S PARK - CUMBERLAND GREEN - DAY
It’s the evening, but the bright sky and chirping birds don’t show it. Regent’s Park is somewhat busy with tourists and family walking around, and people in business suits on their way home from work. The A class arrive, Simon leading the way with his yellow flag. Eric and Harper carry two large ice box coolers, with a few of the students helping out by carrying foldable chairs, picnic blankets and shopping bags with paper plates and cups.
Once they find a spot big enough for them to spread out, Eric tells everyone to get a picnic blanket and sit in groups, then he and Harper will go around with the food. 
Simon: If anybody wants to learn more about Regent’s Park, or the history of England in general, you can sit on my picnic blanket with me. I’ll be sharing lots of fun facts and answering any questions you have for the duration of tea. 
Dylan: Oh no, are we having tea? Shit, Ash, what should I do? You said I shouldn’t have tea anymore after that time at The Lego Movie… I’m gonna fail London.
Zay overhears this, plainly informing Dylan that tea is just another word for dinner. 
Yindra: I’m dying to hear what happened at The Lego Movie, though. Please do share.
The four of them, along with Riley, get a picnic blanket to sit as a group. Meanwhile, Maya holds court with Darby, Sarah, Haley and Clarissa -- Riley and Zayby aren’t enough motivation to eat with Dylan and Asher.
Maya calls Isadora and Farkle over, but neither seem keen to join the group of girls. Farkle sits down in between Asher and Riley instead, Asher awkwardly shuffling closer to Dylan to make room for his long legs. With a pout, Maya beckons Isadora again. Elsewhere, Chai spots Darby and Sarah and heads towards them, passing Isadora on the way. 
Chai: Want to sit with me? I was going to go with Darby and Sarah but if you’d rather sit just the two of us I’m sure we can find a spare blanket.
Isadora looks around, noticing that everybody else has found a place and that Harper and Eric have started to hand out food.
Isadora: I actually was planning on sitting with Simon, but you go ahead. 
Chai: I mean, I’m happy to sit with Simon, too. 
Isadora: Honestly, it’s fine. I know you’re not into all the history stuff.
Way to tell somebody you don’t want to sit with them without actually telling them. Isadora walks over to Simon’s picnic blanket, where Jade and Nigel are already sitting. Nigel and Simon are in the midst of a debate over the meaning behind one of Shakespeare’s works, a conversation that Isadora easily slips into.
Rather than upset, Chai looks angry as she watches Isadora sit down. She has half a mind to follow Isadora and force her to spend time with her, but she realises that that would do more harm than good. Instead, she sets her jaw and marches towards Sarah and Darby. 
Maya, somewhat smug: Trouble in paradise? I knew you two would crash and burn. 
Sarah: Tell me about it.
Not exactly supportive, but Chai doesn’t care. It’s fuel to the fire that’s burning brighter with every new interaction with Isadora.
The mood isn’t too much better over in Riley’s group. Mainly that news about her waitlisting has spread, and they’re all fired up on her behalf. She tries to assure them that it’s no big deal, people get waitlisted all the time, but all of them are in agreement that if anyone deserves not to be, it’s her. Zay is especially adamant, though he might be projecting some of his own admissions frustration and impatience onto her.
It’s Dylan that finds the knack for truly cheering her though, adding a little melodrama to the rallying around Riley that makes it feel more fun and less heavy. He grows increasingly impassioned about all of the ways that Riley has changed environments for the better -- look at AAA for crying out loud! -- and Tisch simply won’t know what they’re missing. Fools, the lot of them. It’s so obvious, really, that Riley is a cut above the rest.
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Jolly Holiday” as performed by Mary Poppins Original London Cast Recording || Performed by Dylan Orlando (feat. Riley Matthews, Asher Garcia, Zay Babineaux, and Ensemble) (starting at 00:15)
[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]
Perhaps the biggest number of the episode, so following along with the lyrics can be very helpful for this spectacle. In fact, I don’t even think I can do the performance justice trying to write it out, so I highly encourage a listen to the track and I will try my best! Dylan wastes no time in launching into the number, replacing every “Mary” fittingly with “Riley” as he showers her in compliments -- a trend that will continue throughout.
Dylan: Why, it’s a jolly holiday with Riley. Riley makes your heart so light.
Riley: Oh, really…
Dylan: When the day is grey and ordinary, Riley makes the sun shine bright!
Riley: You do talk nonsense, Dyl!
Dylan: Oh happiness is blooming all around her. The daffodils are smiling at the dove!
Riley: I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about --
Dylan leans even further into the melodrama, falling onto his back and stretching across Asher’s lap as he really milks it. Suffice to say, he matches Bert’s cheeky charm near perfectly.
Dylan: When Riley holds your hand --
Asher: Dyl!
Dylan: You feel so grand. Your heart starts beating like [ pounding his heart to the beat ] a big brass band!
Asher: [ patting his side ] You’ve got enough brass for all of us…
Then Dylan pushes himself back upright and to his feet, concluding the opening verse by approaching Riley and offering her his hands. She takes them and lets him pull her to her feet, kicking off a visual journey in song through the idyllic park.
But first we take a detour to the plastics, complaining about their stop at the park. Boring! It’s just statues, ducks, and grannies! From there, once they’re done complaining about how it has nothing to offer them, we jump straight into the next set of sung lyrics (01:55), where Dylan takes over again.
EXT. REGENT’S PARK - SPORTS GREENS - DAY
He and Asher are guiding Riley along on their walk, playfully flirting with her and bolstering her confidence as they go. They weave their way through football players and pull them into the singing -- the whole performance definitely has some “That’s How You Know” energy from Enchanted. It’s also a good time to mention what Dylan and Asher are wearing this afternoon, which are purposefully but subtly meant to emulate this famous fashion moment.
Then Dylan takes a detour, leaning fully into the Bert silliness by delivering statue pun after statue pun (to the techie boys’ great delight, especially Dave). At one point, he yoinks a straw boater hat off an OLD MAN and continues on his merry way, which the old man complains about in a… bizarrely strong Cockney accent. His adult SON tells him to relax, though, and just enjoy the performance -- how can you disdain a fella with such spirit like that? As they have their brief comedic interaction, there’s definitely the sensation that the men look oddly familiar (for film and West End fans alike).
EXT. REGENT’S PARK - BOATING LAKE - DAY
Zay takes over from there for a verse or two, arm linked with Riley as the two of them traipse along the path around the boating lake. The ensemble out on the boats sings along, only increasing their share of infectious performing energy. These American students have a contagion of joyful singing, and it’s incurable!
A few paces behind them, Asher takes the Mary verse, turning some of the appreciation towards Dylan. Because of course, Dylan was the one who managed to rally Riley out of her low mood -- and get the whole Park singing along. It’s a cute little exchange between the two of them, cementing their Mary and Bert energies, and building us right along towards the big finish…
EXT. REGENT’S PARK - QUEEN MARY’S GARDENS - DAY
Dylan links his arm with Asher’s and then they’re leading the brigade, the A class and all the parkgoers they’ve collected along the way arriving at the beautiful and scenic Queen’s Gardens for the big finish. They proceed amidst the flowers with a flourish, many of them paired up as they dance their way along together -- Zay and Riley, Jade and Nigel, Isadora and Farkle. By the time they make it to the center of the rose gardens, they’re spread out all across the greens, energetically performing the choreography together and spirits most definitely lifted.
Dylan and Dave heft Riley up onto their shoulders at the centre of the crowd, causing her to laugh, as everyone brings it home.
No wonder it’s Riley that we love!
INT. CHARLIE’S CAR - DAY
The sun is just starting to set as Charlie pulls up at Lucas’s requested drop off, the Orlando community center just across the street. Charlie squints at it, confused.
Charlie: Isn’t this Dylan’s place?
Lucas: Yeah. I crash here sometimes. And Randall’s making calzones tonight. Hard to pass up.
Charlie: Oh. Cool.
Lucas: And they’ve got a dog, so.
He lets that be the end of the sentence, like it explains everything. And to Charlie, whose most consistent best friend is Skippy, it basically does. Lucas gathers his stuff and unbuckles his seatbelt.
Lucas: Your reception thing is tomorrow, right? At your church.
Charlie: Yeah. Lots of extended relatives, old people... none of my friends since they’re all out of town. Should be a hoot.
Lucas: Well, good luck with that.
He starts to climb out of the car, then hesitates, managing to do the vulnerable but decent thing.
Lucas: Thanks for the ride.
Charlie smiles, nodding. Lucas opens the door and climbs out, starting to cross the street to the community center. Then he remembers something else, doubling back and stopping in the middle of the street.
Lucas: Hey, Charlie.
Charlie is surprised he’s still being addressed, but more concerned with how Lucas is standing in the road just waiting to get hit by a car. But it’s Lucas, after all -- no fear. Charlie rolls his window down.
Charlie: Yeah?
Lucas: You could do it, too, you know. Your own thing. [ a beat ] I mean it.
Well. That’s an unexpectedly sincere sentiment. And impactful coming from Lucas, who Charlie apparently thinks of as the master of unapologetic authenticity. A return gesture, maybe, for the favor of driving him all that way.
That’s all he’s going to get at the moment, though, because that’s about as much vulnerability as Lucas can stomach in one day before he starts going into organ failure. He doesn’t give Charlie the chance to respond, jogging the rest of the way across the street to the community center and disappearing inside.
But it’s enough. It clearly lands with Charlie, leaving a mark… and making him think. After a moment, he pulls out his phone, dialing a number.
Charlie: Hey. We need to talk.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - TECHIE ROOM - NIGHT
Westminster was a bad idea for the boys, as now they’re obsessed with the Bloody Mary myth. Nate and Jeff have come over to join Dave and Yogi and they’re all crowded around the bathroom mirror, actively working to summon the vengeful spirit.
Nate: No, no, shut up. Shut up. Everyone has to commit to this. She’s not gonna come if we half-ass it.
Jeff: She’s not gonna come period.
Nate: That’s exactly what I fucking mean, Jeff. If you’re not committed to the cause, you can show yourself out.
For the record, Jade wishes she could do the same. She’s trying to focus on a book, but the boys are so loud, and there’s nowhere for her to escape to for a break. It’s a relief when there’s a knock at the door, and she’s even more grateful when it’s Nigel on the other side.
Nigel: Wondering if you might wanna take a walk before curfew?
Jade opens her mouth to answer, just as the boys finish chanting “Bloody Mary” at increasing volume. After the third repetition, Jeff screams, causing Nate and Dave to scream in turn... until they realize Jeff was just fucking with them.
Nate: JEFF. WHAT DID I SAY?
Jade blinks, then gives Nigel a flat smile.
Jade: I thought you’d never ask.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - NIGHT
Asher isn’t party to the antics in his room, having smartly escaped to hang out with Riley and Dylan before Nate took over. He’s crashed on the bed with Dylan going through pictures that they took over the course of the day. Asher frowns at one that Dylan swipes to, squinting to get a better look.
Asher: What is that supposed to be of?
Dylan: It’s not obvious? [ zooming in ] Look at that squirrel, Ash! They’re like up chilling on the abbey, welcoming us to their domain.
Asher: That’s your favorite picture you took today, isn’t it?
Dylan: Vicar squirrel. Squirrel vicar. I want her to bless our marriage.
They drop the conversation when Riley reenters the room, freshly showered and looking more at ease than she was most of the day. They ask if she’s feeling better, if the shower helped, and she confirms it did.
Riley: I really think it was just mainly the shock, you know? A lot of information to process at once that I wasn’t prepared for.
Asher: Totally. I get that.
Dylan: But it’s okay to be upset about it, too. Like, just because it’s not news you wanted to get. You’re allowed to be bummed about things not going the way you planned.
Maybe so, Dylan… though that’s obviously not easy for Riley to accept. She’s all about validating her friends’ emotions, encouraging them to feel whatever they need to feel, but it’s not so easy to practice what you preach.
Asher commiserates about unideal circumstances, though, as it’s his turn to complain about the wi-fi. He comments it’s like this place may not even have it at all… are they sure it’s not just a ruse? But his theory is disproved moments later when Riley’s phone starts buzzing, getting an incoming call.
Asher: Of course…
Dylan: You are so magical.
Riley’s expression lights up when she sees who it is, a picture of Lucas surrounded by kittens at the shelter appearing on her screen. She answers immediately.
Riley: Hello?
INT. ORLANDO HOME - DYLAN’S BEDROOM - NIGHT
The United Kingdom is intercut with Lucas back in Manhattan, changed out of his nicer clothes and back in a tee and comfortable sweats for the night. He smiles lightly when he hears her voice, realizing the call managed to go through. On the bed behind him, Dylan’s St. Bernard dog Mr. Puff is resting, idly watching Lucas move around the space.
Lucas: Hey. I got your message.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - NIGHT
They’re connected, yes, but the service is spotty at best. Their voices get a little warped and Lucas cuts out for a moment, prompting Riley to start moving to find the best signal. She tells him to hold on, but to keep talking so she can see how he sounds. Dylan and Asher perk up.
Asher: Is it Lucas?
Dylan: It’s Lucas! HI, LUCAS!
Riley: Shh, I’m trying to listen!
Asher: Let’s go, Lucas James!
Dylan: LET’S GO, LUCAS JAMES!
Riley cracks up, shushing them as she continues to hover into different parts of the room. Finally, she seems to find a solution, heading towards the small balcony while the signal improves with every step. She grants Dylan and Asher a second to say hi and holds the phone out towards them, letting them shout at their best friend, then she hushes them as she steps out onto the balcony and closes the door behind her.
EXT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - BALCONY - NIGHT
With the signal clear and a quieter environment, the two of them can actually hear each other. Lucas admits he only heard about half of whatever just happened in the last minute, but she assures him it was just Dylan and Asher being silly.
Lucas: Sorry I missed your call earlier. I was, uh, preoccupied with something.
Riley: Oh, it’s okay. It wasn’t like a big thing. I just wanted… I guess I just wanted to hear your voice.
Lucas smiles to himself, bashful.
Riley: But we’re talking now, so, it’s all good. Got what I came for.
Lucas: Cool. Good. You said you had news?
Riley: Yeah. Um… [ making herself admit it ] I heard from Tisch. I got waitlisted.
Lucas: Shit.
Riley: Yeah.
Lucas shakes his head, trying to find the right thing to say. Riley fills the silence in the meantime, downplaying it.
Riley: I mean, it’s not a big deal. It’s one school. And you know, it’s like, I wasn’t even sure if I would’ve gone if I had gotten in. So it’s not like everything is ruined, or anything. It was just a surprise. That’s all.
Lucas: Still, that sucks. But they’re shitty anyway if they’re going to put you out like that. They obviously don’t realize what they’ve got in front of them -- especially if Maya got in and you didn’t.
Riley: I don’t know about that…
She’s disagreeing for the sake of cordiality, and she knows Lucas is one-hundred percent biased, but it’s still nice to hear him say it. And given how well they know each other, how close they are, Lucas hits on the true reason it stings so much effortlessly.
Lucas: You’re too good to be a second choice, Riley. If they can’t see that, then fuck them. You deserve to go somewhere that understands exactly how spectacular you are.
And though he acts like he never has the right words, he knew exactly what to say. Riley fiddles with the L charm on her necklace and chews her lip, unable to stop smiling.
Lucas: And anyway, you were stoked about Barnard, right? I feel like we talked a lot about them when you were applying. And they accepted you with a competitive offer, so clearly they know what they’re doing.
Riley: Yeah, they were my top choice otherwise.
Lucas: So you can start thinking about how you want to make the most of that now. You get to focus on all the possibilities, which I know you never get tired of.
Riley: [ with a laugh ] That’s true, I do enjoy possibilities. [ fondly ] Thanks, Lucas.
Lucas: Of course. Any time.
It almost aches, talking to him like this. Being so far apart, feeling so much that she can’t express the way she wants. It’s practically radiating off her, how much she loves him written all over her face.
Riley: I wish you were here. I know it’s kind of silly, because it’s only been a couple of days, but I miss you. A lot.
Lucas: [ after a moment ] Me too.
But he isn’t there, so they’ll have to make do. Riley isn’t ready to say goodbye yet, especially since there’s no telling when the next chance she’ll have decent wi-fi will be, so she keeps the conversation going.
Riley: I thought about you a lot today, actually. We went to Regent’s Park, and they’ve got a zoo...
Lucas climbs onto Dylan’s bed next to Mr. Puff, reclining back and settling in for a while.
Lucas: I hope you’re going to elaborate. [ softly ] Tell me about it.
So she does. Riley drops into a sitting position on the balcony, leaning back against the metal bars and launching into a thrilling recap. As the camera drifts downwards to the room a couple floors below...
Jack, pre-lap: Sounds like you’re handling it well, then.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - ERIC’S ROOM - NIGHT
Eric is on the phone as well, though he has the luxury of the international phone plan so he can comfortably sit at the desk in his room rather than cram onto the balcony. He’s just finished catching Jack up on the trip so far, and yes, the fact that no one has gotten injured or disappeared is a source of weary pride. Jack assures him that everything is running smoothly on the home front too when he asks.
Eric: Look at us, dividing and conquering. What’s that known as… could it be effective leadership? No idea what Yancy thinks he’s got on us.
Jack: To be fair, your leadership capacity was never in question.
Eric: No being fair to that man. He’s a hack, and he’s wrong. Moving on.
Jack laughs, Eric pleased with how he’s managing to keep him in lighter spirits.
Eric: You’ll be happy to know, actually, that I’ve been giving your proposition some thought.
Jack: [ tentatively hopeful ] Really? About filling out the principal application?
Eric: Don’t get too excited, I just said I’m thinking about it. But you may have made a few compelling points.
Jack: I often do.
Eric: What would be the harm in the practice of it, you know? Could be good to flex those muscles. And I know it wouldn’t go anywhere, since like I said, you’re the ideal candidate. So… I don’t know. Maybe it would be worth the time. I’m considering it, at least, so I hope you’re pleased.
Jack: Eric, I have no doubt in my mind that you would make an excellent principal. Especially at Adams.
Wow… Jack sounds pretty impassioned about that concept, especially for something only hypothetical. But it touches Eric all the same, his expression not looking all that different from how Riley’s looked while talking to Lucas.
Eric: Well, I should go. My night to do curfew rounds.
Jack: Best of luck, authoritarian-in-training. Make me proud.
Eric: Still stand by my stance that it would be better if you were here.
Jack doesn’t seem inclined to argue with that. But for now, nothing to be done. The two exchange goodnights and warm wishes, Eric smiling as he hangs up the phone.
INT. LONDON HOTEL - LOBBY - NIGHT
Jade and Nigel have lost track of time, situated in a couple of comfortable chairs in a small corner of the spacious lobby. They’re deep in conversation, the casual traipse around the hotel having shifted into a philosophical, meaningful chat that neither of them want to end.
Naturally, they’ve drifted to talking about the future, contrasting it against the minor vent session Jade already had in regards to the techie boys. She admits that she doesn’t really think it’s their fault, her irritation. It’s more about her.
Nigel: Why do you say that?
Jade: This is going to sound crazy, but I’m like… I feel like I’ve outgrown it. All of it. Does that make sense? Like, I love the techies. They’re like my brothers, they’re family. And I love being part of the A class. But the way everyone feels, this kind of drama around everything ending or whatever… I don’t feel that. If anything, I’m ready for something new. Sometimes it almost feels like it can’t get out of here fast enough. [ with an embarrassed laugh ] Does that make me a bitch? Am I way more soulless than I thought?
Nigel: I don’t think so. And I definitely don’t think you’re a bitch.
Jade: That’s impressive, considering the amount of Jade-specialty vent sessions you’ve had to listen to by now.
Nigel: You’re human. And remember, even your harshest mood is probably still leagues kinder than Maya Hart on any given day. Don’t forget context when you’re self-analyzing your own ugly emotions.
Good point. Jade runs a hand through her hair, tilting her head as she listens attentively to his perspective on it.
Nigel: But honest, it doesn’t make you a bitch. I get what you mean. Everyone is going to come around at different times, and deal with change in their own way, but I’m excited about what comes next. I think you said it right, the thing about outgrowing Adams. It’s not that you don’t appreciate it, and the people are always going to be family. But we’re ready to move onto the next thing. That’s okay. That’s a good thing, actually, most people would probably be jealous of how ready for it you are.
There is truly nothing so bonding and validating as a late-night conversation with someone you love. Jade smiles, grateful. She reaches out and takes his hand.
Jade: At least there’s one thing I know I’m never going to outgrow.
Aw… yeah, it’s kind of crazy to remember how long Jade has had feelings for Nigel. And it’s true that even as they’ve changed, she hasn’t outgrown them -- they’ve simply matured with them. Nigel beams, lifting their hands and planting a brisk kiss on her knuckles.
It would be nice if they could outgrow their rotten luck on this trip, though. They’re startled out of their quiet comfortability when Eric comes into the lobby on his rounds, spotting them sitting there. They blink at him, realizing they probably shouldn’t be hanging around in the lobby, and Nigel quickly checks his watch.
Jade: What time is it?
Nigel: Oh, shit --
From where he’s staring at them, dreading having to actually reprimand someone, Eric releases a pained sigh.
Eric: I really didn’t want to have to be an authoritarian…
EXT. LONDON HOTEL - ROOFTOP - NIGHT
The view from the top of the hotel isn’t the best, looking down on the streets of London and other hotels, but tonight is a little more interesting. There’s a night market going on, with vendors selling various cuisines and tourists who don’t have curfews wandering around. A SITARIST gently strums, creating a calm atmosphere.
Chai, who watches the scene from the rooftop, is anything but calm, though. She paces around, chewing on her nails as she waits.
When Isadora opens the door and creeps out, Chai drops her arms and halts. 
Isadora: I got your text. 
Chai: [ passive aggressive ] Nice of you to show up.
Confused and uncomfortable, Isadora asks what’s going on, to which Chai rolls her eyes. 
Chai: What do you think, Isa? [ off Isadora’s visible confusion ] You’ve been pushing me away this whole trip. No, even before the trip. I feel more like your annoying friend you secretly hate than your girlfriend. I’m fed up of it.
Oh. Isadora isn’t sure what to say to that. A STAFF MEMBER gets up from where they’re sat in a smoking area. They put out their cigarette and mutter a good luck to Isadora as they pass. She’s gonna need it. 
Chai: Why? I deserve to know. Did I do something wrong? Do you not want to be together anymore? What is it? 
Isadora: I… I don’t know. 
Chai: [ with a scoff ] You don’t know. Wonderful. That’s great, Isadora. Real great.
Isadora gets angry, not appreciating being shouted at. 
Isadora: What do you want me to say? Sorry? I’m sorry I offended you, Chai. There. 
Chai: I want you to tell me what’s going on with you! I may not be your therapist or Eric, but I’m your girlfriend and I deserve to know why you’re treating me like this. I deserve to be recognised.
Tell her, Chai. All of Chai’s frustration and anger over being ignored and feeling invisible yet again comes out as she vents. While this helps Chai feel somewhat better, as expressing your feelings always does, it overwhelms Isadora. She wraps her arms around herself and chews her lip. 
Chai: Relationships take work, Isa. If my parents divorce taught me anything, it’s that communication is key. But you don’t talk to me. You can’t even stand to be in my presence. It’s not fair. Either break up with me or act like my fucking girlfriend and COMMUNICATE!
Isadora opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Rather than give Isadora time to process everything she just said, Chai snaps that this just goes to prove her point. Her patience has worn too thin to be considerate. 
Isadora, quietly: Are you saying you want to break up? 
Chai: If that’s what you want, yes. I don’t want to be strung along when you want out.
Is that a yes or a no? Isadora isn’t sure. There’s no time to clarify, because Eric comes out of the rooftop door. Both girls turn to look at him. 
Eric: One of the staff told me two Americans were up here. You two okay? 
Chai, flat: Dandy. 
Eric: … great. It’s past lights out, so I’m going to have to punish you both I’m afraid. 
Chai: Fine. I don’t even care anymore.
Chai shoots one last glare towards Isadora before moving past Eric and heading downstairs. Yikes. Eric frowns, concerned. 
Eric: What’s going on there? Do you want to talk about it? 
Isadora, snapping: No. Leave me alone.
She marches through the door and into the lift, pressing the button for the lobby before the doors slide shut. 
Eric: Wait, where are you going? Your room is on the third floor. Isadora?
It’s too late. She’s gone. With a sigh, Eric pulls out his phone and enters the stairwell. 
Eric, into the phone: Harper? You’re gonna have to take over for me…
EXT. LONDON - NIGHT MARKET - NIGHT
Isadora steps out of the hotel into the colourful, lively night market. No longer in her clothes from the day, but a ‘60s punk inspired look complete with hair sticking up in spikes, heavy eye makeup and a leather jacket with chains on it. Despite the world around her being in colour, Isadora herself is in black and white.
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Paint It, Black” as performed by The Rolling Stones || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz
The sitarist strums to start us off. Isadora gets a couple of coins out of her pocket and drops them into the sitarist’s open case. The gentle-looking Indian man gives her a nod in gratitude, and when Isadora nods in return, the drums kick in. In an instant, the sitarist transforms. He’s now dressed in punk clothes, and becomes monochrome like Isadora, who sets off down the street.
I see a red door And I want it painted black No colors anymore I want them to turn black
She sings in a flat voice, staring dead into the camera, unaffected by the jovial people around her.
A few feet behind her, Eric struggles to catch up as he moves through the crowd. While Isadora channels her inner Medusa and turns the people and scenery around her into a black and white 60s pink fever dream, Eric remains in colour and modern.
Isadora passes a flower stall and picks up a handful of colourful flowers.
With flowers and my love Both never to come back
She scrunches up the flowers in her fist, the now colourless petals fall to the floor. When Eric gets to the florist, he apologises and gives them some money for the ruined flowers.
Isadora arrives at the end of the street where she can look at the river Thames in the distance. The last of the sunset reflects on the water, the only remaining colour around her.
If I look hard enough Into the setting sun My love will laugh with me Before the morning comes
She finishes off the performance in the same spot, dancing like a punk rocker in a mosh pit. She slows to a standstill and looks across at the sunset.
I wanna see the sun Blotted out from the sky I wanna see it painted, painted, painted Painted black, yeah
A downpour of rain brings an end to the performance, melting away the monochrome and punk as it drenches everything. Isadora allows the rain to shower her, but Eric -- who’s finally reached her -- covers his head with his arms. 
Eric: Are you done being an angsty teenager now? 
Isadora: Yes. 
Eric: I’m going to have to add another punishment for this, you know that, right?
They walk back to the hotel as the vendors pack up their stalls and tourists run inside for cover. Isadora is certainly more colourful now with her green hair, but she still looks just as punk and angsty as before. 
Isadora: Whatever.
She quickens her pace so that Eric lags behind. He shakes his head. 
Eric: Adopt a teenager, they said. It’ll be so rewarding, they said.
EXT. LONDON HOTEL - DAY
 The A class is filing onto the bus the next morning, Freya standing by the doors and helping count as they board while Simon flatly delivers a rousing explanation of their itinerary for the day. They’re on their way to the National Theatre, so better get ready for some fantastic playacting.
As the techie boys board the bus, they each greet Freya cheerfully, mimicking tipping their hats at her. For her brusque demeanor, she seemed relatively charmed by their silliness.
Meanwhile, Harper and Eric have pulled aside Jade, Nigel, Chai, and Isadora. Harper has taken over the tough love authority role, informing them that due to their breach of curfew yesterday, it’s been decided that they will spend the remainder of the day separated. Nigel and Jade attempt to plead their case.
Nigel: We really weren’t trying to skirt curfew. We just lost track of time.
Jade: I’ve been a perfectly rule-abiding student my entire career at Adams.
Isadora, helpfully: You participated in the techie revolt.
Jade: [ without looking at her ] Thank you, didn’t ask for your input. Mister E, you know we weren’t doing anything wrong. Please.
Eric, reluctantly: Being out past curfew is doing something wrong, Jade. You and Nigel will have plenty of time to spend together on the rest of the trip. [ nodding towards the bus ] Let’s go.
Jade sighs, spinning and heading towards the bus in defeat. Nigel waits a moment and then uncertainly follows, not sure exactly how much distance he’s supposed to put between them. Harper and Eric turn to Chai and Isadora.
Eric: And Isadora, your extra punishment for leaving the hotel on your own --
Isadora: You were with me the entire time. 
Eric: Yes, but you left without me. I simply followed you. Regardless, your extra punishment is no spending money for two days. Every time you leave the hotel, or group, without supervision or permission, another two days will be added. 
Isadora: I’m eighteen, I can spend my money if I want to.
Eric gives her a warning look. Not one from the school trip supervisor, but one from a dad. Isadora sighs and nods.
Harper: Any other arguments from you, ladies?
They glance at each other, still fuming from their argument. Chai shrugs, projecting aloof.
Chai: A little space will be nice, actually.
She turns to go, marching towards the bus. Eric watches the exchange, eyeing Isadora curiously. Ready to talk about it yet? Isadora shakes her head defiantly, not in the mood. She stomps away, Harper offering Eric a supportive pat on the back. Being the authority ain’t no joke!
INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - LOBBY - DAY
Simon and Eric make sure each of the students has a ticket to the production they’re about to see of Oliver! Harper instructs them that although they can’t control which seat they get, they’re welcome to swap amongst themselves if they see fit like the plane.
INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY
Farkle has settled into his seat, one of the first in the class. As fate would have it, who should have the seat next to him but Isadora. They exchange smiles when she drops down next to him, Isadora already more relaxed than she’s been on the rest of the trip so far.
Farkle: We’ve got to stop meeting like this.
Isadora: Why do you make everything weird? Stop.
Farkle: I’m just saying, there’s some kind of karma going on here that you and I somehow always end up stuck together. I’m just not sure which one of us is getting punished.
Isadora: Mutual destruction.
Oh, aye. Farkle nods, accepting that with an amused smirk. He does ask though if she didn’t bother to try and swap a seat so Chai can sit with them. Isadora shrugs.
Isadora: We can’t anyway. We got banned from interacting today.
Farkle frowns, bewildered. He starts to question further, but they’re interrupted by Maya arriving to join them. She plops into the seat on the other side of Farkle, greeting them brightly.
Farkle: You too, huh? Guess we really are tied by the red string.
Isadora: Strangled, maybe.
Maya: What? Oh, no, this wasn’t luck. I threatened Yogi into trading with me. [ with a beam ] Should be a jolly good show.
Another ominous statement that needs elaboration… but no time. The lights dim, signaling the start of the show as the orchestra tunes below. Farkle and Isadora exchange a look, the latter playfully bumping his elbow on the arm rest between them as they settle in for the first act.
INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY
Charlie is nearly ready for his reception, looking cute and polished in his khakis and dress shirt. No tie yet though. He pulls on the navy suit jacket and adjusts the sleeves, touching up his hair in the closet mirror. It needs to look combed and styled just the right way so that most of his guests won’t even notice the length.
Rosie knocks on the door, stepping inside the room when Charlie nods her in. She’s dressed in a cute floral sundress.
Rosie: You look like a nerd.
Charlie: Wow, thank you, dear sister of mine. What a nice thing to say to me, on this, the day of my celebration.
Rosie: I didn’t say it was a bad thing. It’s just a fact. And you are a nerd, so it’s fitting.
Charlie: You look nice, though. Bit bold on the eye makeup. I mean, I don’t mind, but don’t you think mom is gonna say something?
Rosie: Who cares? And honestly, no. You are the sole recipient of her smothering attention today -- I’m just the errand girl. [ holding out her hand ] She wanted me to bring you this, so you didn’t forget it.
A Yale lapel pin. Just in case anybody forgets for five seconds that he got accepted. Charlie takes it, barely hiding his reluctance.
Charlie: Great. Thanks. I’ll be down in a second.
Rosie nods, then hesitates. It’s obvious there’s something on the tip of her tongue, something she wants to say… but she doesn’t really know how to say it, or maybe even really exactly what it is, so she doesn’t try. She retreats and leaves Charlie alone.
Charlie looks at his reflection again, really scrutinizing it. It’s going to be a long day of presenting… he needs to brace himself as much as he can. He goes to get some fresh air, stepping out onto his balcony as the orchestration kicks up…
EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Where Is Love?” as performed by Oliver! London Palladium Cast || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz, Farkle Minkus, Riley Matthews, Charlie Gardner, and Zay Babineaux
[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]
Charlie leans against the rail of his balcony, turning the Yale pin over in his fingers. A shiny accessory for all those shiny stats… he sighs, looking out to his neighborhood and closing his eyes. Absorbing the temporary calm.
INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY
At the same time, the production of Oliver! is in full swing, teeing up the famous track. Our key A class players watch with varied levels of interest, the actual Oliver actor kicking off the song with the first verse.
Then, things get a little interesting. Smooth transitions and creative camera angles allow us to seamlessly move from one performer to the next, creating a tapestry of interpretations.
Isadora picks up the slack first, echoing the sentiments of the show as she takes over the next couple of lines from her spot in the audience next to Farkle. Her expression is pensive, heavy, speaking to any number of things -- her late mother, her fracturing romance, her friends going in any number of directions. She and Farkle harmonize on “that’s only meant for me,” cueing the first transition…
Only it seems at first glance like the actual performer is taking back over -- and that’s because Farkle is now occupying the stage. He’s inhabiting the role of Oliver (finally reaching his peak as sickly Victorian orphan), dressed in the costume and smeared with dirt, but fully immersed in the performance. It isn’t until his actual self chimes in, taking over halfway through and watching himself from the audience, that we understand his take -- is love the dream, the art, the opportunities he could chase to a stage in Los Angeles… or is it sitting right next to him, not wanting him to go anywhere? He glances at Isadora, contemplative.
‘Til I am beside the someone who…
Riley and Farkle’s vocals overlap next, and she takes his place on the stage. Only her set up is different -- stripped down, simplistic, and she’s plain-clothed -- and there’s only one member in the audience. She looks directly at an imaginary Lucas as she sings the famed title lines, eyes shining and the world just the two of them. The only audience she cares about; the one who has been elevating her to be more almost since they met.
Where is love?
EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY
Charlie examines the Yale pin, growing more and more averse the longer he does. He knows for sure that it isn’t love -- that there’s nothing he’s more apathetic about -- but if Yale isn’t the answer, what is? If not there, then where? Where does he truly belong?
Who can say where she may hide Must I travel far and wide?
Zay’s vocals ease in and harmonize effortlessly with Charlie’s, the screen splitting in a fade to show both of them as they share the next line. Then focus is solely Zay’s for a moment, him standing alone on the empty stage.
INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY
There’s no one watching his performance, his question more of a shout into the void. With everything so frozen in time, on every front, he has to wonder when things will resume -- when someone will start putting him first again, that he can mean something to.
Then he prompts the final crescendo, all of the vocalists joining back together for a strong harmonized finish.
EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY
As the orchestration peters out, Charlie takes another look at the lapel pin… then pockets it, choosing not to put it on. He heads back into his room.
INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY
The audience breaks into applause as the performer wraps up the rendition, the A class clapping along. The production rolls right along, oblivious to the projection the ensemble just imagined through the performance.
INT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - BANQUET HALL - DAY
Charlie’s reception is off without a hitch, a pleasant and charming gathering set up in the lovely banquet hall of their church. It’s well-attended for a graduation party, though it’s anyone’s guess how many of those people are there for Eleanor versus the actual man of the hour. She’s clearly in her element, entertaining a gaggle of church ladies and getting ample opportunity to brag about her golden son and all his accomplishments.
Eleanor: That’s right, Yale. Oh, we’re so excited. And you know, I don’t want to jinx anything -- but he’s been quite friendly with one of his good friends these last few months. Riley?
Trina: Oh, of course. You’ve mentioned her plenty.
Danielle: And we saw the prom photos! Such a gorgeous duo.
Maitland: Eleanor… you’re not saying --
Eleanor, coyly: I’m only saying, ladies. Keep your ears to the ground -- there might be some big news on that front any day now.
Well, I wouldn’t bet your pass to Heaven on it, Eleanor. The ladies twitter enthusiastically anyway, though, all sold on the concept of dear, darling Charlie perhaps announcing a commitment to Riley Matthews.
As misrepresentative as that sentiment is, Charlie isn’t completely without peers of his own. EVAN SCOTT has shown up to offer his congratulations, chatting with Charlie comfortably by the gift table where he’s easily accessible for guests to come and pay him well wishes. It’s nice of Evan to show up, and Charlie clearly appreciates it -- perhaps an actual friend came out of the hell that was Haverford after all.
Evan: I’m sure the rest of the guys would’ve come too, but I guess there’s a lot going on right now. Lots of post-graduation travel, you know?
They’d have to be invited to even know to show up, Evan, and even if they were, Charlie knows damn well that would never happen. He offers a tight smile anyway, opting not to get into it.
Charlie: Totally. Ha ha.
He’s about to gain another unexpected ally. He nearly falls over when Rosie bolts over and rams into him, speaking so fast and in a hushed whisper that he can’t even understand her.
Charlie: You excuse me for a second, Evan? I think my sister’s been possessed.
Evan laughs, giving them space. Charlie gets Rosie to calm down, instructing her to speak slowly so he has even a chance of understanding what’s got her so energized. She’s breathless, and her eyes are wide.
Rosie: Bridgette. She’s -- did you know that she was -- Bridge, she’s --
Her name was all Charlie needed to hear. He stabilizes Rosie by steadying her shoulders and then glances around her, looking towards the doorway.
Lo and behold, the rumors are true -- and spreading quickly throughout the congregation. Bridgette Gardner has arrived, timid but decisively, making an unexpected and triumphant return to the fray. She’s at least spared Charlie the drama of wearing a lace bralette by showing up in a casual but classy black jumpsuit, but her mere presence is enough to get people talking no matter what she chose to wear.
She and Charlie lock eyes, the latter breaking into a smile. Yes, it’s clear he was actually expecting her. He ignores all the eyes on him as he makes his way across the room and goes to greet her at the entrance, then suspends any potential assumption that she isn’t welcome by pulling her into a hug.
Well, this is guaranteed to be the talk of the event when everyone heads home this afternoon -- forget all of Eleanor’s careful planning. The woman herself is shell-shocked, doing her best to maintain appearances and appear unflappable but obviously stunned by the surprise arrival. Ambrose stares from across the room where he’s chatting with other husbands, equally caught off guard but seemingly not affronted by his daughter’s sudden reappearance.
Bridgette and Charlie pull apart. She scans the room around them, the nosy partygoers eyeing them with rapt interest, then raises an eyebrow at him. She offers a brave smirk.
Bridgette: Nice tie.
She’s right, it is a nice tie -- and she’d know, since she picked it out. Charlie glances down at it, a tasteful but simple floral pattern in soft blues, greens, and purples. Fresh, understated, and far more like Charlie than anything else picked out for the reception.
He returns her smile, then invites her further into the party.
Grace, pre-lap: So you think it went well?
INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - KITCHEN - DAY
Lucas and GRACE FRIAR are chatting at the kitchen table, Lucas helping her go through bills as they recap the gist of his interview. It’s hard for him to say, but all things considered, he didn’t think it went poorly. There’s a chance, at least, which is more than Lucas usually has to go off of.
It’s clear from the expression on her face that Grace is proud of him. She doesn’t know how to articulate that, and she’s only able to really show it in the moments when he’s not looking, but the glimmer in her eyes and small smile on her face leave little room for doubt.
She reiterates that she hopes it works out, because they really need the financial support. Going through the bills just makes that all the more clear… but she thinks he can do it. He can get the aid. And he’s been saving all that money to supplement it -- which he’ll need every cent of, to be sure -- but it could really happen. He might get out of here.
Lucas is obviously trying to keep his expectations subterranean levels of low, but even he has an excited edge to his voice when he talks about it. They transition to discussing the rest of the day, Grace asking if he’s got plans. With Riley and Dylan and Asher out of town, he must be bored stuck here with her.
Lucas: I’ve found bizarre ways to keep myself busy. But I have a quick thing to do in a few minutes, then I’m probably gonna go to the Orlandos again for dinner. I think Randall is making tacos.
Grace, wistfully: That sounds delicious. I can’t remember the last time I had a really good taco. I don’t know what I’m going to be doing for dinner… just pick-up, I suppose.
Lucas: Dad’s not eating with you?
Grace: He has a doctor’s appointment. Said he probably wouldn’t be hungry after.
Lucas: [ with a scoff ] Since when does anyone in this apartment go to the doctor…
He doesn’t bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. But Grace merely shrugs, claiming he just told her about it this morning. She thinks it’s just his annual physical -- something the two of them don’t get the privilege of having, of course -- but that’s all she knows.
Lucas gets up to get ready to go, claiming if she wants, he can ask Randall if she can come over for dinner. She waves him off, not wanting him to go to the trouble, but Lucas insists.
Lucas: Come on, mom. You deserve to have a really good taco sometimes.
Well, when you put it like that… Grace laughs to herself, then shrugs.
Grace: Why not. Better than anything I would throw together here, I’m sure.
That’s settled, then! Lucas tells her he’ll let her know when to head over tonight. First, though, he’s got business to take care of.
EXT. COVENT GARDEN - DAY
Covent Garden is bustling with people, tourists and locals alike. Boutiques line the streets, along with plenty of cafés and restaurants. The class is free to roam on their own (even Isadora), and they have a good couple of hours to do all the shopping they desire (except Isadora).
As the class sets off to explore, Eric thanks Freya for filling in for Harper. 
Freya: Don’t worry about it. Got nuffin’ else to do but sit in my bus, ‘ave I?
Eric is a little bewildered by Freya’s thick West Country accent, not having heard her talk this much before, but thanks her once again. He turns to Simon and asks him to show him where the best coffee is. If he’s going to survive any longer on this trip, he’s going to need a lot more caffeine.
Elsewhere, the techie boys arrive at the square where professional street performers work. There’s a STRING QUARTET playing music that matches the sunny weather and upbeat atmosphere, a CIRCUS PERFORMER walking around on super high stilts in stripy colourful trousers, and… a dog? A DOG MAN? A man’s head somehow stuck in a kennel? Whatever it is, their attention has been caught.
The dog man greets them as they run over to him, his accent northern and his tone depressed. It’s unclear whether the depression is part of the character or because of the fact that he’s playing this character. 
Nate: Dude! This is amazing! Quick, get a pic of me and this guy.
Jeff: Genuinely iconic. 
Dylan: Can I film you for my vlog? 
Dog Man: What the hell is a vlog?
Well, this’ll certainly keep them entertained for a while.
Jade and Isadora are wandering around the fruit market. Both separated from the other half of their couples, but one a lot more upset about it than the other. 
Jade: This whole thing is so insanely stupid. It’s totally cruel to ban us from interacting... we were literally just talking.
Isadora: Is it really that big a deal? It’s like one day. Why do you care?
Jade: ... because he’s my boyfriend? Because we were excited to hang out on this trip together? I don’t know. [ a beat ] You know, Dora, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve been a little sharp.
Isadora: No kidding?
Jade: Like I get it, I’m not in the best mood either. But... especially since you don’t even seem to care about your punishment, seems kind of weird.
Someone actually calling Isadora out on her behavior -- someone other than her father figure, that is -- kind of snaps her out of it. She blinks, twisting her fingers together.
Isadora: Sorry. Didn’t even realize.
Jade: It’s fine. I’m just saying. And like, you don’t even have to deal with it, really, since your girlfriend isn’t even here...
Isadora gets lost in thought, contemplating what Jade said. Has she been as barbed as everyone seems to think? Speaking of, where is Chai? And Harper, for that matter?
INT. GUILDHALL SCHOOL - CORRIDOR - DAY
The women sit in a makeshift waiting area along with other hopeful university students and their guardians at Guildhall University, a school dedicated to the musical and theatre arts. Chai seems nervous, but determined, tapping her foot lightly as they wait.
TRUDY, a short middle-aged woman with bright blue hair and a multi-patterned dress on, pushes open a door. 
Trudy: Rebecca Fresco?
Chai stands up and follows Trudy into her final audition. Harper gives her a thumbs up.
Harper: You got this.
Chai gives Harper a nervous smile. The door swings shut.
INT. GUILDHALL SCHOOL - REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY
Along a table sit the ADMISSIONS PANEL. There are six of them, including Trudy, who sits down in her chair while Chai takes position in the middle of the room. 
Chai: I actually go by my middle name -- Chai -- not Rebecca.
Trudy apologises and makes a note of her preferred name. She tells Chai that she’s the only American who’s gotten this far in the process. There are a couple of other foreign students, but they’re all from Europe. She goes on to explain that because this is the first year of their new, experimental arts degree, there’s a lot of things still in the air, and it will be shaped around what the students need and want. 
Trudy: Is there any particular part of theatre arts that you’re most interested in? I know you went to a performing arts high school, so I expect that’s your main focus? 
Chai: It is currently, yes. I’m very open to exploring other areas of the arts, though. My school has a way of bringing people together no matter what their focus is or where their talents lay, so I’ve gotten the opportunity to learn about the technical production side of theatre, too. 
Trudy: That’s great. What do you think you’d gravitate towards when studying here? 
Chai: Definitely dancing and vocal performance, but also stage makeup and costuming. I’m skilled in hair and makeup, and this past semester I’ve been learning the basics of designing and making clothes. 
Trudy: Brill. We can definitely cater to that. [ a beat as she and the others write things down ] Okay. You’ve prepared a performance for this audition, correct?
Chai nods. She has a vocal performance, then a dance performance. One of the admissions people gets the prepared music up on their phone and presses play.
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Know I Have A Heart” as performed by Cinderella West End Original Cast || Performed by Chai Fresco & Isadora De La Cruz
[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]
Chai takes a breath, then sings. Her voice is bright and clear and she hits the notes with relative ease. She’s come a long way since the beginning of her journey at Adams and the days of being a backup singer for Maya. What makes this performance so impressive, though, is the passion behind it. The lyrics hit close to home at the moment, and the emotion she expresses packs a punch.
I was so not naïve With no heart on my sleeve Always walked out before I was rejected
When the orchestra comes in, Chai begins to move. She uses the space as if it’s a stage, treating the panel as an audience rather than the people deciding her fate. Her stage presence shines, the role of heartbroken princess a perfect fit.
I was so unaware That I could fall so hard But what good is a heart If you don't care?
EXT. COVENT GARDEN - NEAL’S YARD - DAY
We cut to the person in question, Isadora. She’s in a smaller part of Covent Garden full of colour. Some of the buildings have their walls painted, while others leave the bricks bare and instead paint the window frames and shutters.
Isadora looks through a shop window, then turns as she takes over the song.
Should have known all along That I need to be strong For a girl who's like me There's no happy ending
She walks towards a boutique, fancy dresses and glass slippers in the window. When the music swells into the chorus, she begins to waltz around the yard. We cut between her and Chai, who’s doing the same. A slow dance cut in two.
And it's shattered and bruised And now the laugh's on me Anyone want a heart that's barely used?
We continue to transition between the two as they both take on the final chorus together. They both put all of their anguish and frustration into the song, their vocals even more powerful and heart wrenching when harmonised.
INT. GUILDHALL SCHOOL - REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY
We end on Chai, breathing heavily after the final belt. For a moment the room remains silent, the emotional performance having suddenly made the atmosphere heavy, but then the panel burst into applause.
Chai allows herself a small smile, but knows that it isn’t over yet -- both for her audition, and relationship with Isadora.
INT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - BANQUET HALL - DAY
Bridgette saunters over to Charlie by the food table, leaning close to speak in conspiratorial tones as she reaches for a carrot stick. Both of them are very aware that all eyes continue to drift towards them, but for once Charlie doesn’t seem afraid of the attention. In fact, in a weird way, he almost feels a sort of pride.
Bridgette: Am I correct in guessing you didn’t let mom in on your little plan to invite me to the party?
Charlie: I don’t know what you mean? Doesn’t she seem completely in the loop?
Bridgette: Mm mm mm mm mm. Blasphemous behavior, and on such a momentous day. What gave you such a dastardly idea, Charlie -- the devil himself?
All jokes aside, Bridgette admits that she’s glad he asked her to come. It’s nice to be with the sisters again, and the look on Eleanor’s face was worth it alone. But it was a pretty sharp change of pace from wanting everything to go “smoothly” -- what made him change his mind? Charlie smiles, shrugging nonchalantly.
Charlie: I can do my own thing now and then.
That doesn’t make much sense to Bridgette, but it’s Charlie. She’s not going to question it. She lightly pinches his side, enjoying the feeling of being co-conspirators again -- but she clams up when Ambrose approaches. He clears his throat, gently getting Charlie’s attention.
Ambrose: Think there might be a bit of a mix up with the guest list. Are you expecting someone else?
You mean, aside from resurrecting the long-lost sister? Charlie looks appropriately confused, following Ambrose’s nod towards the entrance where Eleanor seems to be debating with a wayward soul who she is desperately trying to gatekeep from the party. She’s already had enough trespassers for one reception, thank you very much!
When Charlie recognizes who she’s confronting, his jaw drops open slightly. Lucas?
He exchanges a look with Ambrose before making a beeline for the door, intercepting his mother before she tears a biblical new one into Lucas.
Charlie: Mom, mom, it’s cool. I know him. He’s -- he’s a friend from Adams.
Eleanor: Well, he isn’t on the guest list.
Lucas: I’m not much of a list person.
Charlie: Seriously, mom, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it.
Eleanor remains displeased, but she allows Charlie to take over. She flurries back over to her friends in a huff -- how many other ways could this go wrong? Charlie waits until she’s out of earshot, turning his gaze back to Lucas with a million questions.
Lucas, deadpan: She seems nice.
Charlie: What are you doing here? I mean, not that it’s a problem. Despite the indignation of my mom -- she’s having a rough day.
Lucas: Rest assured, I’m not here to gate crash. I’m in and out; I think if I hung around too long in this place I’d probably burst into flames.
You’re not the only one, Lucas. He continues, removing his hands from behind his back to reveal he’s holding an envelope.
Lucas: I’m just playing messenger.
Charlie raises his eyebrows, looking at Lucas in surprise as he takes the parcel. It’s decently-sized for an envelope, and his name is scrawled on the front in Riley’s familiar loopy handwriting.
When he opens it and pulls out the card inside, though, it’s much more than just a message from Riley. It’s a custom-made card -- with the artistic expertise of Dylan, Asher, and Jade behind the design -- and on the back and all along the inside, his A class peers have written him congratulations sentiments and signed it. Even the teachers contributed, a kind message from Jack, Eric, and Harper present on the inside flap.
And yes, even Zay. He’s found a way to keep it casual while still meaningful, depth behind the message concealed in plain sight amidst all the other well wishes and in spite of how weird things are between them at the moment.
Good job surviving. Wherever the hell you’re going after this, don’t forget where you belong… or whatever 1D would say.
Charlie laughs, a bit choked up. Sure, none of them could be there in person due to bad scheduling, but he was dead wrong if he thought they were going to let him celebrate alone -- least of all when Riley Matthews is involved. 
Charlie: This is great. Thanks for delivering. You can tell Riley it was well-received.
Lucas: My life’s work.
Charlie: Are you sure you don’t want to stay? I know my mom seems scary, but --
Lucas: Believe me, she is far from the scariest thing I’ve ever confronted. But I’ll pass. It’s taco night at the Orlandos, so I’ve got better places to be.
So with that, he’ll leave him be. Charlie thanks him again for bringing the card, letting his focus drift back to the gift once Lucas is gone. Then he lifts his gaze, something across the room catching his eye.
Ambrose has taken the spot he vacated, actually talking to Bridgette. It doesn’t look like the easiest conversation in the world, but it’s something, amicable communication for the first time in years. And if Ambrose is willing to open up the door for her, to give her a chance… well, who knows what he might hear out from Charlie, too.
Charlie can’t help but smile, hugging the card to his chest while he watches part of his family slowly rebuild.
INT. COVENT GARDEN - SHOPS - DAY
The A class are free to roam throughout the centre, Riley and Farkle taking some time to browse for souvenirs. Farkle hesitates when he spots something he’s sure Isadora would love -- an embroidered patch with something darkly silly, a perfect match for her aesthetic -- pointing it out to Riley. She agrees Isadora would like it, he should grab her and show her while they’re there.
Farkle: Well, I was thinking more like…
Farkle stops his own sentence. He was thinking what, that he’d get it for her? That he’d give her a gift for no reason, as if that’s something normal people do? As if he’s not continuing to kid himself, playing into these weird instincts with her when she has a girlfriend and only sees him as a friend?
Farkle: Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking.
Riley commiserates, commenting that shopping for others can be tough no matter who it is. Like, she’s been keeping an eye out for something to get Lucas all trip so far, but nothing has jumped out to her.
Farkle: Is he that picky?
Riley: No, although that’s kind of the problem. He’s not really a gift person, because he never like… thinks he wants anything, so he’ll basically accept anything and be cool with it. But that makes him impossible to shop for, because there’s not really a clue as to where to begin.
Dylan and Asher chime in from the opposite side of a shelf.
Asher: Seriously, he’s awful.
Dylan: So true, bestie.
Riley: Besides, it’s not even necessarily him that’s the problem. It’s just like… there’s nothing good enough.
Farkle: I’m sure the artisans here will really appreciate that review on Yelp.
Riley: [ elbowing him ] Not like that. I just mean… nothing is going to convey what I want to say properly. [ softer ] No souvenir gift is going to capture how I feel about him. It’s too much.
Doesn’t help that her primary love language is physical touch, and he’s currently thousands of miles away. Sort of makes Farkle’s angst about Isadora feel trivial in comparison. He gives her an awkward pat on the shoulder, though he’s not going to be of any help to her gift dilemma.
Some jaunty, understated guitar floats in, echoing throughout the Garden…
EXT. COVENT GARDEN - DAY
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Step Inside Love” as performed by Cilla Black || Performed by Covent Street Performer
A new STREET PERFORMER has taken the limelight, gathering the attention of much of the wandering crowd. She’s blonde and spritely like Maya, only with a head of curls, but her vocals pack a serious punch. She’s animated and riveting, delivering a soulful rendition of the classic British tune and earning a decent chunk of change in tips in the meantime.
One of the people captivated by her performance is Maya, who stops wandering the stores to listen. Her eyes sparkle as she gets closer, sensing a kindred spirit in the brassy busker. And she’s impressed by how deftly she can hold a crowd -- the Garden breaks out into applause as she finishes her rendition, Maya an eager participant.
She makes a point of approaching when the crowd has mostly dispersed, launching into effusive praise. The street performer listens with mild interest as Maya… well, does her Maya thing, dramatically insisting upon their twin soul energies and lauding her ability to command a space with her stage presence. That, and she has such admiration for someone like her, out there busting her chops to follow the dream wherever it might take her. Starting from nothing, scrounging towards the goal. It’s inspiring, really.
At this, though, the street performer snorts, catching Maya by surprise.
Street Performer: Oh, fuck me. You think I’m some poor bastard, don’t you? Singing for pennies to earn my daily bread.
Maya: Oh, no. No, I just meant --
Street Performer: Love, I went to a conservatory. One of the top bleeding performing arts programs in the country, at that.
Maya, stunned: What?
Street Performer: That’s right. Class of 2015, in the flesh. Oh, and they promised us everything. Going to such an elite school, with such strong credentials, it was supposed to be a direct pipeline. That’s what they said, anyways. Straight to the West End! Well, look around us -- does this look like the West End to you?
Maya: … no. No, there must be a mistake. If you were to have graduated from a top program, then you wouldn’t be --
Street Performer: I did, and I am, love. Look right in front of you, see me with your eyes. And read my lips: it’s all a sham. I sing because it would kill my soul not to, but it’s a thankless time. Do yourself a favour, jump off this train before it runs off the tracks. Unless you want it to be you wiping your bum with your fancy university degree with nothing to show for it in five years time belting classics for spare change next to a little dog man!
Dog Man: Hey… woof. 
Street Performer: An absolute farce!
Whatever Maya was expecting from the networking moment, it sure as hell wasn’t that. She’s dumbstruck, completely bowled over by this unanticipated reality check -- and not even sure how to move past it. She’s rooted to the spot, the rest of the world continuing on around her as if she’s not even there.
INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY
Jack is working on the final details of his reapplication, all the pieces polished and ready to submit. Just a tweak here and there… but something about the process feels emptier now. Like he’s doing it, but somehow, his heart is no longer in it. It’s hard to see how that could’ve happened, when this place has been his whole entire world for so long.
But there are new paths stretching out in front of him now… if he chooses to follow them. He releases a sigh and leans back, surveying the office that he’s inhabited for so many years. It’s strange to think that he could be anywhere else… but it doesn’t feel impossible anymore.
At the moment, though, he’s sure of one thing -- there’s somewhere else he’d rather be right now. Struck with inspiration, Jack pulls his laptop closer, settling into new work.
EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY
Rosie and Charlie deposit the last of the graduation gifts on his bed for him to go through -- mainly envelopes, lots of money. Rosie scoffs as she sifts through them.
Rosie: I can’t believe this. People are basically paying you for getting through high school. This is such a double standard.
Charlie: What? How?
Rosie: Male privilege. Everyone just loves to hand you cash. You know what they’re going to give me when I graduate? Flowers. And like, probably gift cards to Pottery Barn.
Charlie: Hey, you can find some pretty neat things at a Pottery Barn if you look hard enough. And flowers are nice. I could go for some flowers.
Rosie: Of course you could. Nature boy. But flowers die in like a week, and I can’t buy movie tickets or eye shadow with $15 to Pottery Barn.
Charlie shakes his head, amused. Speaking of nature… the two of them meander their way out onto the balcony, opting for the pseudo-privacy and fresh air. After a full day of church community socializing, it’s nice to take in some quiet for a minute… until Rosie breaks it, surveying his room through the sliding door.
Rosie: Do you think I could swap the blinds on the door for drapes? I’m trying to decide how I’ll decorate once you’re gone and I take over your room.
Um, she thought! Charlie refutes this, claiming there’s no way she’s getting his room. He’s going to college, not military school, so he’ll still need a house to come back to every few months. And sorry, he’s not giving up his sacred balcony that easily.
Rosie: … so you’re planning on coming home? Or like to visit. At least sometimes?
Seems Rosie found an indirect way to ask the questions she really wants to know… Charlie realizes from the subtle nerves in her voice that this is the first time she’s had a sibling leave home since Bridgette. And she might be back now, in a surprise twist, but when she left the first time she really just left.
Charlie remembers how that felt. It would scare him too. He quietly assures her that he’s not planning on going anywhere for too long, and he’s never going to disappear out of her life.
Charlie: No matter where I am, or how long I’m there, you can always talk to me. You know that, right?
Rosie: … yeah. Yeah, I do. [ a beat ] I guess like… maybe I might miss you. Or something. Whatever.
No kidding… Rosie takes the chance to reiterate that Charlie can talk to her, too. About anything. She knows she’s the younger sibling and he’s like weird about taking pride in being the “role model” or whatever, but she’s getting older too. So if he wanted, he could talk to her about stuff. Like with Bridgette. And with him going off to college, there will probably be lots of new things to discuss.
She’s doing her best to tee him up… Charlie exhales a laugh, scratching his ear.
Charlie: Honestly, think there’s still plenty of stuff for us to discuss here.
Rosie: Like what? Daisy’s sudden career in climate change --
Charlie, quickly: That I’m gay.
Oh. Well there it is. Charlie obviously didn’t mean to stumble through it like that, to just spring it on her so haphazardly, but the instant he realized he was actually going to say it, it’s like it just slipped out. And the silence that follows doesn’t make it any less clunky, Charlie keeping his gaze anywhere but at her as he braces for potential rejection from one of the people he cares about most.
But Rosie isn’t going to reject him. In fact, she smiles instead, clearly pleased he finally said it.
Rosie: That’s nice.
Charlie: … you don’t sound surprised.
Rosie: I had my guesses. [ off his expression ] Charlie, you went with me to 1D concerts. You’ve never had a girlfriend. We’ve watched probably forty Riverdale makeout scenes together, and not once did you ever react to Cami Mendes or Lili Reinhart. The only time you ever reacted at all aside from getting all awkward was when I said KJ Apa looked good during a shirtless scene, and you agreed.
Charlie: I don’t even remember that --
Rosie: Also you’re like, the nicest boy I know, and I’m not just saying that because you’re my brother. In fact, the fact that you’re my brother and I’m still saying that shows how ridiculously nice you are. No straight boy is that nice. That was my main reasoning.
Well, damn. You think you’re covering all your bases… anyway, Rosie is just really, really glad he finally told her. That means a lot to her. And she promises, sincerely, that his truth is safe with her. He keeps her secrets and always protects her -- now it’s her turn to do the same.
And that’s clearly a relief to Charlie. His greatest fear was always that he’d fall from grace, that if she knew she’d no longer look up to him, but it seems like the opposite is true. He steps forward and pulls her into a hug, one that she happily reciprocates.
When they pull apart, she throws an “ew” out there, just for the sake of bratty sibling consistency. Charlie laughs and messes with her hair, telling her to ew herself. After a moment of silence, now that they’ve cleared things up, Rosie has a new topic she wants to unpack.
Rosie: So you had a boyfriend, right? Like a secret one.
Charlie: Um, what --
Rosie: Who was it? Charlie, tell me. I have to know now.
Charlie: No. No, mm mm, we’re not doing that.
Rosie: I have theories. Wait, just listen to my theories and tell me if I’m hot or cold.
Charlie: [ heading back into his room ] Nope. Not doing it.
Rosie: You need to tell me! I put research into this! I’m only asking you to hear out my potential suspects --
Charlie: La la la la la --
Rosie eagerly follows after him.
EXT. LONDON STREET - NIGHT
Audition over, Harper and Chai are on their way back to the hotel as evening falls. Chai excitedly talks about the course that she auditioned for and how student-focussed it is. Harper nods along, having already heard all of these earlier in the year when Chai was working on her application. 
Chai: You just don’t get this sort of stuff in America. You have to take so many different classes, you don’t get to just focus on your major. But here, they do specific courses. Honestly, there are degrees for everything under the sun. While I was researching I saw one for stand-up comedy. 
Harper: Not sure how I’d feel if I knew John Mulaney had a degree in comedy. Gives a totally different spin on the college bit he does. 
They change topic to London, Chai reminiscing on her time here as an exchange student and mentioning how excited she’ll be to come back if they accept her. 
Harper: I hate to dampen the mood, and I know you have your heart set on this place, but have you seriously thought about what moving here would mean? 
Chai: What do you mean?
Harper: You wouldn’t be moving here as a high school student. You’d be an adult. That means finding your own housing after freshman year, getting a job, building an entire new network when you already have one in New York. It’s not all red buses and hot accents, Chai. You’re entering the real world, with nobody to help you out. It’ll be damn hard. That’s not to say you shouldn’t do it, I fully believe you can. But you should really think about what studying here will be like.
Chai hadn’t really thought about it from that perspective before. Everyone she knows is in New York. Her entire support system is in New York. Would she be able to hack it on her own on a whole other continent?
But then again, does she really want to stay in New York for people who can cast her aside so easily? Her parents barely noticed she was gone during the exchange programme, and the way things are with Isadora right now… there’s not much tying her to the states. 
Noticing Chai’s now uncertain mood, Harper tries to lift her spirits by asking her if she’s excited for the rest of the trip. This does perk her up, but the questions surrounding her future are still strong in the forefront of her mind.
EXT. LONDON HOTEL - PATIO - NIGHT
Zay has stationed himself on the patio of the hotel restaurant, offering him a decent view of the city as the evening descends into night. Farkle peers out from inside the building and spots him, coming over to join him.
Farkle: Rooming with me and Maya truly that bad? You don’t have to hide out, you know. You could just ask us to cool it.
Zay: You know that joke doesn’t land when you know damn well telling you two to chill would do fuck all. Since when have you ever listened to me?
Farkle: Touché.
Zay: But no, amazingly, not every choice I make is about you. I’m just getting my fix of the nightlife before curfew. Based on how Eric cracked down on Nigel and Jade, I’m not trying to incur his chillingly supportive wrath.
Farkle: Understandable. Especially Eric’s unique brand of scary. Mind if I join?
Zay gestures blasély to the chair next to him, Farkle taking it. He asks Zay, now that he’s observed it so much, how he’d rank London.
Zay: Well, it’s no New York City, but it has its charms.
Farkle: Loyalist, I see.
Zay: NYC is a hellish pit, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. What can I say, it’s home.
True enough. They settle into silence for a few moments longer, Farkle actually lasting an impressively long time for his usual standard, before he breaks it again.
Farkle: I was hoping to ask you something.
Zay: Just when I thought you might actually manage a peaceful moment.
Farkle: Hey, I was quiet. For like, thirty seconds. And you should know me better than that at this point.
Zay: Unfortunately, I do. [ with a sigh ] Go on.
Farkle: Now that Maya’s told you about the business card… what would you do? If you were in my position?
Zay: I hope you realize that you stumbling into this opportunity, having a bona fide connection to the industry fall into your lap based solely on your talent and potential, and then saying fuck it and throwing it all away would be the most privileged white people shit ever. You do realise that, right?
Farkle: Yes, I’m aware of the potential optics.
Zay: Okay, good. Just checking. Otherwise… I mean, I guess the bigger question is why wouldn’t you? Go after it?
Farkle: Why wouldn’t I?
Zay: Yeah. Like I said, this is the kind of thing basically everyone at Adams would kill to have in their pocket coming out of graduation. And you appreciate that, obviously, if you’re seriously considering it. So that just leaves the question of why not? What’s making you hesitate?
Farkle contemplates the question, not sure he wants to face it. Because it means being vulnerable, and he’s never been especially good at that.
Farkle: I suppose it’s just like… it’s kind of what you said. New York is home. You know? And I know that’s part of what college is all about, leaving the nest and all that, but… I like the way things are here. I like… [ searching for the words ] I know the city. I know the culture, I know the people. I love the people. Everybody I love is in New York.
Zay knows that feeling. He nods.
Farkle: And for a long time… the friends I have now are everything to me. I know what it’s like to have nothing, to have no one in your corner. I don’t ever want to go back to that. I’m just worried that… if I go away, if I put those aside to pursue this thing that might not even pan out… it’s not worth the trade. I know now that it’s not an even trade. And I’m so good at accidentally fucking everything up… [ timid ] I don’t want to risk chasing the dream somewhere unknown if it means losing my team.
Given Farkle’s history, Zay can see how this concern is particularly gripping for him. And the root of his fear is something all of them are feeling -- everything is about to change in a few weeks, they’re all going to go their separate ways, and there’s no way to know that these friendships will hold. Especially if they go in such different directions.
Still, can’t put your life on hold to cling to the way things are.
Zay: I get what you mean. I had my diva phase this year, you saw it, so you know I know what I’m talking about. I get how chasing after one thing can feel like you’re neglecting the other, that this stupid art kind of makes us so crazy that we push everyone else away in the pursuit of it. I think it’s a valid worry.
Farkle: Yeah?
Zay: Yes. But I don’t think that means you shouldn’t do it. I think you just have to find your balance -- which you should be good at now, considering how much damage control you’ve already had to do.
Farkle: Fair point.
Zay: As for the distance… look, I’m not gonna act like I’m some kind of expert. I’ve been in the same place my whole life. I’m not planning to go far if everything goes as planned, least for now. And being away from people you care about sucks, no matter how big or small the space between you. But… sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes it’s for the better, getting some separation from the way things are.
Farkle: Really? You think so?
Zay: Yeah. I didn’t always, trust me, but it’s like… sometimes I guess it’s like you get stuck, and the only way to get past it and continue to grow is to step back. Branch out on your own, see who you are without that crutch. And the thing is, man, if someone is really your friend, they’d want you to do that. If we’re all just trying to find the best version of ourselves, and someone cares about you, then they’d want that for you too.
Farkle: Huh...
Zay: I don’t know what I’m saying, okay, I’m just talking out of my ass here. I’m not Riley, I don’t have the perfect advice. But I just think that… there’s no guarantee that going somewhere different, leaving the life you have right now, is going to irreparably damage everything. Especially if you’re doing it for a good reason, like pursuing your passion. And if your friends are true friends, they’ll push you towards that goal rather than pulling you back. If someone really loves you, they’ll want to see you at your best. They’ll set you free… and if it all works out, and you come back stronger for it, then even better.
Took Zay a lot of struggle on his own to reach that conclusion, but it seems like he’s pretty sure of it. And Farkle evidently appreciates the honesty, absorbing the sentiments and trying to figure out what that means for him.
Zay: I don’t know if that helps. Like I said, I’m just talking.
Farkle: No, no, you’re -- it does. Thanks, Zay. [ off his nod ] You know, you’re part of it. That team I don’t want to fuck up.
That’s sweet. A little weird, since they don’t really do the whole sentimental thing with each other, but it’s clear it means something to Zay. He clears his throat.
Zay: Well, don’t worry about hopping to LA, then. Your fun facts and trivia are going to kill this thing way before long distance ever would.
It’s true, distance makes no difference on whether he’s annoying or not. Farkle laughs, raising his hands in surrender. Then he grants Zay what he’s been asking for this whole time -- some actual quiet, leaving him be after thanking him again for the help.
Zay settles back in his chair, leisurely rotating his left ankle to keep it loose. Although he’s finally starting to wean off the habit, given how useless reception has been, he pulls his phone from his pocket and nonchalantly checks it anyway. Not expecting much.
So it’s a major shock to discover he has a notification in his email -- from Turner Academy. Even just from the message preview on his lock screen, he can see what it says.
Your portal status has been updated.
Zay jolts upright, cursing to himself. Heart suddenly pounding, his hands shake as he unlocks his phone and pulls up his web browser to log into the portal. He needs the wi-fi to hold together just long enough for him to look… but then he hesitates. Does he want to know? Is he ready to know? Is he prepared to face the consequences of whatever he finds out?
The hesitation only lasts a second. Yes, he’s ready -- he’s been ready. He’s ready for the torture to be over, to have closure either way. He clicks into the portal and selects the dropdown menu for application status, which has a notification bubble indicating it’s been updated.
It takes eons to load with the shitty internet. Zay holds his breath, watching the wheel in the center of the screen spin.
Then it loads. Zay takes a couple of seconds to read… and his expression shifts not to elation or devastation, but confusion. He reads the message again, then over again, even refreshing the page to make sure he’s not getting an error.
But the status displayed remains the same.
Additional Action Required. Please call the admissions office to learn about your admission status.
It takes a few more moments for that to properly sink in. Then Zay frowns.
Zay: What the everloving fuck --
EXT. LONDON HOTEL - DIVA ROOM - BALCONY - NIGHT
Maya is taking in the same scenery on the tiny balcony outside their room, though her expression is far more melancholy. She’s lost in thought, not even noticing when Farkle returns to the room.
He pokes his head out and greets her, leaning back against the doorframe. He asks if she’s okay, as she’s been uncharacteristically demure since they left Covent Garden. She brushes off his concern, claiming she’s just absorbing the spirit of the city before they go waste the next few days out in the middle of nowhere.
Farkle: I wouldn’t call Stratford or Liverpool the middle of nowhere.
Maya: To each their own.
She delivers it with her usual melodramatic snark, but Farkle is right that there’s a muted quality to it. The easy confidence isn’t quite as sharp as it usually is, and a seasoned veteran of Maya Hart can tell the difference.
Still, she assures him that she’s fine, so he lets it be. He suggests she not stay out photosynthesizing too long -- they’ve got an early start tomorrow as they head out of the city. She nods him along, waving off his concerns.
Farkle: By the way, I am seriously considering my choices. I’m going to give the LA opportunity all the thought it deserves. I promise.
Maya, delicately: I know. I know you are.
Farkle steps back inside, gently cracking the balcony door behind him. Maya watches him disappear into the bathroom nook, waiting until she’s alone again to let the facade crumble. She turns to face the city twinkling around her, confidence zapped entirely. It’s clear the words of the Garden performer really hit her, that they’re taking a toll she didn’t anticipate anything could.
Even with the best performing education money -- or scholarship -- can buy, could it still all be for nothing? Is it even worth it? And even more terrifying, is the dream even accessible at all, or is she destined to discover that she’s wasted the best years of her life chasing a passion that she’ll never be able to catch -- even with all the talent, drive, and preparation she can muster?
Could everything she believes in actually be totally, utterly empty?
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Where Is Love?” as performed by Oliver! London Palladium Cast || Performed by Maya Hart (starting at 2:25)
Acting as a reprise of sorts, Maya eases into her own rendition of the West End classic by singing through the final verse and chorus. But it’s a meek performance, timid in a way Maya never is, real fear and uncertainty cracking the notes in her delivery.
Becoming a star has been her driving force for as long as she can remember. If the dream isn’t real, then where is love?
INT. CHUBBIES - DAY
It seems a day trip to Albany and gate-crashing a graduation party are the fires that forge friendship, because Charlie and Lucas are hanging out again. They’re not doing much, Charlie writing thank you notes at the counter while Lucas goofs off during another slow shift, but they’re choosing to occupy the same space while they do, which is certainly not nothing.
That, and they seem remarkably at ease around one another for having only just really started talking. At least enough to do silly, dumb shit that boys find entertaining -- Lucas has built a catapult out of silverware, assuring Charlie that he’s got many hours of food-flinging expertise under his belt and he’s about to see a champion in action. This is very important, complicated Chubbies work at play. Then he picks a fry off Charlie’s half-finished plate and loads the catapult spoon with it, pausing for dramatic effect.
Lucas: Ready… ready… 3, 2 --
He hits the base of the spoon and sends the fry flying into the air, easily managing to catch it in his mouth. An expert champion indeed, clearly of very important matters. Charlie gives him a round of applause, Lucas holding his arms out in victory and giving a pseudo-bow.
Charlie: Wow. I see why they pay you the big bucks.
Lucas: Damn straight.
Lucas just starts to load the catapult up again when Jack pushes into the diner, spotting him and marching over. He seems a bit frazzled, a man on a mission, but there’s an excitement charging his movements. An almost youthful glow about him, eyes twinkling with a mischief you’d never see when he’s in the halls of Adams.
Lucas: Jack? What are you doing --
Jack: Good, you’re here. I was hoping you would be. [ noticing Charlie ] Oh, hi, Mister Gardner. You’re here too. That’s nice.
Charlie: Um, hi, Principal Hunter.
Lucas: Everything okay? You seem a little --
Jack: You want to go to London?
That stops Lucas in his tracks. His eyebrows shoot up, completely caught off guard.
Lucas: What?
Jack: I’m going to London. You want to come to London? Because if you want to go, we can go. I’m going.
Charlie, uncertain: Maybe I should go...
Jack: Oh, Charlie, you can come too. I’ve got an extra ticket. I was going to invite Shawn, but… you know, you’d actually probably appreciate it more.
Charlie: I -- um -- ?
Lucas, bluntly: Are you on crack?
He sure seems high on something all right. But no, Jack Hunter is one-hundred percent sober, and one-hundred percent serious. He’s cruising on the freedom of new beginnings, and he just might take the two of them along for the ride. 
Charlie: Principal Hunter, sir, I’m --
Jack: You can call me Jack, you know. You’re not my student anymore.
Charlie: … right. Well, Princi -- Jack -- you just said it. I don’t go to Adams anymore.
Jack: Yeah, well, you don’t go to Haverford anymore either, do you? So you’re not really anything, technically. And you know we had you for three years, which is more than enough in my book.
Lucas: I can’t go on the trip. I don’t have the money, remember?
Jack: As if most of your peers aren’t on the trip on their parents’ dime. And I’m here with a spare ticket -- it’s not a matter of “can” you, it’s a matter of “will” you. Obviously, no one has to go if they don’t want to, but that’s exactly my question.
A question that completely turned their worlds upside down. It’s truly crazy, how things can change in the blink of an eye -- one moment you’re wandering Los Angeles, you’re participating in a student protest, you’re signing thank-you cards and catapulting French fries, and in the next an opportunity comes knocking that could change everything.
The question is, do you answer the door? Do you take the leap?
Jack: So? Are we going, or what?
Charlie stares at Jack, dumbstruck, then shifts his gaze to Lucas. Are they? Lucas contemplates the offer… then he locks eyes with Jack.
The subtlest of smiles sneaks onto his face.
TO BE CONTINUED.
END OF EPISODE.
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simpsocial · 4 years ago
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Haikyuu boys in a public American school
This is gonna be chaotic I hope and this is all ✨my personal opinion✨ so don’t get pressed pls and thank y’a
Characters in this post: Sawamura Daichi; Sugawara Koshi; Azumane Asahi; Nishinoya Yu; Tanaka Ryunosuke; Hinata Shoyo; Oikawa Toru; Goshiki Tsutomu; Miya Atsumu
a/n + warning ig - there are many curse words in this post, I’m not sensoring it nor apologizing, I planned on doing a lot more characters it this has been sitting in my drafts for months so yeeeaaaaaah
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Sawamura Daichi -
Sits in either the very middle of the classroom or right in front in every single class, he always finds a way
If someone “accidentally” say in his seat one look and they are nervous laughing from three chairs over now
Tbh he’s one of those guys I’d pass in the halls and kinda be scared of just because he’d have his mean face on
He’s not popular but not an outcast, he’s in that sweet middle ground that people know of him but really don’t care that much
His freshman year he probably sat in a random chair at a half-full table at lunch the first day with other people in that sweet middle ground socially and just never moved from that seat even though the table got increasingly crowded
He got jumped once by someone just because he was trying to help someone else, like the poor baby was helping a freshman up his junior year and someone just attacked him
That created a whole rumor about him and he became really popular among the ladies after that but he lives by ‘bro’s before hoes’
Definitely went to a few bonfire parties and got drunk as hell, also found quite a few kinks through those random hookups oop
By the time he graduated like half the school was calling him daddy just because it got out he had that specific kink but no one talked about the girl who literally called him it first
Sugawara Koshi -
The gay best friend that doesn’t want to tell people he isn’t actually gay because then he wouldn’t have any friends
Got half decent grades even though he was the person in the back corner along with that chatty group and he is definitely spilling steaming tea in every class
Ended up at Daichis table because all his friends were upperclassman with first lunch his freshman year, forming a friendship that would last until past senior year somehow
Ngl he would get in a cat fight with someone because they used the f slur on anyone, doesn’t even have to be him he’ll fight them regardless
Parents loooove him because he’s sooooo inoccent haha he’s not
He’s definitely almost been expelled for beating the absolute shit of some homophobic scum on campus
Azumane Asahi -
Okay so we all know Asahi is a teddy bear but tbh if I didn’t know him I would neeeeeveeeer ever talk to him, not even look at him probably
Like he’s the kid that might’ve done some bad things in middle school but put it in the past, except he still looks the part and is treated as so
Probably would be a guy from the bad side of town just because his family is poor
Nishinoya Yu -
The kid in the back of the class having a whole ass meal while the teacher goes on about how the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell
Is either a wannabe SoundCloud rapper or hangs out with them
Has the sk8ter boi aesthetic but doesn't know how to skate at all, he carries around a skateboard with like a flame design but if he ever tried to use it he would break something
isn't the kid that carries the speaker that plays rap music in the halls but definitely encourages them every fucking day 
Tanaka Ryunosuke -
Speaker guy, need I say more? probably
He is the guy that Nishinoya would be encouraging in the halls
if he has a class with Noya you can bet your ass they’re having a mukbang in the back corner 
Has a low-key skater aesthetic and skates everywhere he goes no matter how short the trip is.
Gets called a simp cause he drinks his respect women juice, he’ll hold a door or say something nice to a girl and is bullied for it constantly
Hinata Shoyo -
Annoyingly energetic kid in his first period remedial math class
The freshman/sophomore that still hangs out with middle schoolers and gets shit for it
Oikawa Toru -
Fuck boi alert, like okay we aaaaalllllll know this pretty boy has fan girls but I feel like he’d be that guy that no matter how may girls/guys he fucks or how many hearts he breaks no one would care
He’s the fboy that doesn’t get talked about, like people kinda know his agenda is to ejaculate and evacuate but it’s not entirely confirmed by anyone
Goshiki Tsutomu -
Got ONE bad haircut freshman year and NEVER lived it down
Miya Atsumu -
The shameless flirt that almost everyone has at least tried to fuck, most got like halfway before he got bored
Unlike Oikawa he is the fuckboy that literally everyone has heard about, he keeps getting some just because he gets good reviews lmao
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abortionado · 4 years ago
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I have a real life tale of Homeric Epic proportions for you all. I do not condone the actions of anyone in this story
My senior year of high school, I was entrenched in a preposterous scandal between two of my friends.
Guy 1 was this completely indescribable, sexually ambiguous, utterly ridiculous little xc/debate club twink who was an armed libertarian leftist, HYPERfixated on working class history, and VERY intelligent but so hyperactive and deliberately loud/obnoxious that all of our teachers hated him anyway. He called me “Rosita Bonita,” and was accepted to Princeton and CalTech but was going to a mid-tier school nearby because he didn’t want to leave the mountains. 🥺
Guy 2 was an extremely easygoing, widely-beloved football player with a FIANCÉ he’d been with for 3 years (religious people in small towns get engaged young) who was a devout environmentalist and was planning on going to trade school in Italy after graduation. No real reason, he just thought Italy was dope, which I respect. 
Both good guys, both weird
We were all the same friend group (me, the dudes, the fiancé, & several other ppl), and those two were really close. Like if I was slightly more heterosexual I would say “bromance.” The summer before senior year, those guys, another friend of ours, and the fiancé went on an educational environmental science trip to Peru, where they, like, hiked around and camped out in the mountains. I don’t know or care what they were supposed to be learning about the environment up there, I just know that they split their little group of 4 up into a boys tent and girls tent, and these two boys who the Lord God put on this earth to play high school sports started fucking each other in tents in the rocky mountains of Peru.
Which would normally be like, okay, so what, Rose, why are you telling me these dudes’ business, but you have to remember that the second dude had a fiancé, a female fiancé no less, who was on the trip and was sleeping just a few yards away from where these boys were fucking each other. And this is where it morphed into everyone’s business
My friend, the only member of their little group who was not involved, called me from a hotel one night when they’d gone back down out of the mountains and into a town (and thus had cell service again), and she was like, “Rose, you need to help me.”
And I was like “What? What’s wrong?” Panicking, because my four dear friends were very far away in a weird mountain town and I had no idea what could possibly have happened
And she goes “I think that [guy 1] and [guy 2] are having sex, and I don’t know how to tell [fiancé].”
This is news to me, because I was previously SO sure that guy 2 was straight. I was like “I really think you’re losing it”
So we talked it out a little bit and decided that the high altitude was getting to her, and our friend wouldn’t cheat on his fiancé, who he really loved, and our other friend wouldn’t sow division in our close-knit group like that
School started back up however long after they got back, and things were just like. Completely normal for a while, and then after like a month of the whole thing being forgotten and under the bridge, guy 1 becomes overwhelmed with guilt and decides to tell the fiancé that he was in fact fucking her beloved in the Peruvian mountains.
Now, this was a MAJOR blow to the law, serenity, and order of our group, as im sure you know if you’ve ever been involved in a situation where a member of a friend group was cheating with another member of a friend group. All of my friends are very progressive, so it was much more about the cheating and lying than the fact that they were both men, but I would be wrong to say that that was not also a concern, because it came so completely out of nowhere. We were all blindsided (except for my friend, who I had accidentally gaslit into believing this wasn’t happening and she was going crazy from mountain air 🤪)
So. This is where it gets wild
Guy 2 takes the logical path out and decides to just lie and say that this never happened at all. Like, he straight up denies everything guy 1 is alleging.
I don’t know why he did that. You should never lie about something if the other person has screenshots, which guy 1 did. He had screenshots like you would not BELIEVE.
And he IMMEDIATELY took to the public Internet, which my mother uses, with these screenshots.
A lot of people had heard rumors about this by now, because these guys were both athletes and guy 2 was like “popular” or whatever, so it just kinda gets around. Guy 1 decided to feed the people and send the screenshots to the school gossip IG acct (“____ high school tea”), and of course, the person running the page was THRILLED to have such top-tier content so early in the school year, and it was all posted for their 1,188 followers to see.
The screenshots told a story that ran much deeper than two dudes fucking each other on a field trip. I had initially kind of assumed was just a “gay-for-the-stay,” messing around kind of thing, but there were screenshots of texts from guy 2 about getting MARRIED, telling guy 1 that he was his SOULMATE, telling him he “set my heart to flame,” “I love you more than anything,” etc etc., and, most notably, a picture of guy 2 in the act of SUCKING GUY 1’s DICK. Some of these things dated from WEEKS AFTER they got back from Peru.
So, it was clear to me that guy 1 AND the fiancé both felt (justifiably?) extremely fucked over by guy 2 at this point. The previously-airtight group was on the verge of collapse, as all of us had been dragged into this conflict between these 3 mfs. The girl called off the engagement.
Guy 2 wrote a notes app apology to the entire school claiming he had dissociative identity disorder and blaming the entire affair on his gay alter ego. Then he wrote a sad rap begging his fiancé to get back with him.
But the most insane part of all of this is that, since guy 1 AND guy 2 were both 17 when the explicit pic was posted on “[redacted]hstea,” the POLICE got involved. Guy 1 was investigated on CHILD PORNOGRAPHY charges for a picture of him getting his own dick sucked by a peer, as was guy 2, AS WAS the person running the tea account.
(This tea account had ruined lives, so when her identity was revealed, she literally transferred schools within like a week. Or maybe she’s in jail idk)
The charges were dropped and the boys were let off with a warning, because like. From a legal standpoint, who cares, but we All had to go to an internet safety assembly run by cops where they lectured us for two hours about not taking nudies, and EVERYONE was looking at me and my friends, because even though we had nothing to do with it, they KNEW we were affiliated with the defendents, and that was enough for them
Then guy 1 shot out the back window of guy 2’s car, which was the catharsis of the whole event, and it effectively blew over within another month or two.
Our group was split in half by loyalty (we joked and said guy 2 and his fiancé were like our divorcing parents), and I did not see those two in a room together for SEVERAL months, but then there was one weekend in like February that we all got together like old times (except for the fiancé who had moved on to a better man, as she should), and we were talking about going to a party with some of guy 2’s football friends, and guy 1 was like “I’m not gonna do that. You know what they say about me.”
And guy 2 tucked guy 1’s hair behind his ear and said with ZERO hesitation, “But you know I won’t let anything happen to you.”
This is a completely benign interaction, but imagine being me, witnessing this after 8 months of general social hell, child pornography charges, ruined friendships, Megan is missing assemblies, THE most dramatic breakup I’ve ever seen in my life and subsequent SoundCloud raps, shot out car windows, and a fake DID diagnosis, ALL because guy 2 wanted to avoid allegations of gay behavior. For WHAT.
Anyway coronavirus happened and idk what’s going on with them now and I don’t care but that’s my villain origin story
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cloveroctobers · 4 years ago
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•ALLEGRA BIANCHI•
IG info/bio: @/theeallegrabianchi | 303k followers| Entrepreneur | bad bitches go to therapy thxz 🦭👄
(24) 26 years old
From Swansea, Wales
Ofc she knows who Catherine Zeta-Jones is...her mother literally resembles her and remembers people coming up to her mom countless times asking for a pic growing up, and Allegra hated taking pics for these imbeciles...mainly because the attention wasn’t on her
has a dysfunctional family...
her mother is critical of almost everything she does but at least she paying attention?
and feels her father is neglectful and only seems to be heard when she’s in his face
all they know how to do is scream at each other instead of talking calmly to one another
her mother is of Venezuelan heritage
And Her father is of Italian heritage
her father’s side of the family resides in calabria italy
he named her after his high school gf that passed away due to his irresponsible drunk driving on their senior prom night
Her parents do not have the healthiest of relationships due to her father constantly cheating on her mother in the past...leading to verbal and physical fights
also has a kid or two outside of their marriage because of his unfaithfulness and allegra learned to hate them because of the hurt her mother showcased
In the beginning she was only around them because her father enforced it, that she needed to know her family “blood is all you got in the end.” He would always say but that was bs
Would take her, her half sibs, and her full sibs on day trips/weekend trips in his suburban
Has three full older brothers and one full younger sister
Because of this, Allegra did not have a clear view of what love was supposed to be and felt that anger in a relationship is supposed to be somewhat of the norm?
Many times she wished at night in her bed with a pillow over her head that her parents would just file for a divorce already when their fights would get bad to the point things would get broken and her mother would h*t her father (once with a metal bat) and throw him out of the house
Has had the cops called on their household before and cps definitely has/had a file on them
Has been in family therapy before and is currently in therapy mainly for herself because of the trauma & how it’s messed with her spirit as a person
Loves? Cares for her parents from afar but will never understand their relationship and why they’re still together to this day
Can go months without speaking to any of her family members and be completely fine with that
Had her younger sis, Nerina put her PRIVATE shit on blast via internet after love island aired and completely cut her off since she is “a clout chaser and money hungry bitch who can’t take care of own her child cause she opened her legs to a meth head who loves prison” OOP
she only has a decent relationship with one of her brothers who’s two years older than her, Vito. They seem to be the closest out of the sibs and he’s the only one she bothers to speak to from time to time
She’s a “cocktail entrepreneur” so I’m guessing she has her own business where she specializes in her own cocktail drinks? Working in some upscale rooftop/penthouse bar where she successfully makes profits from her signature drinks or has a brand that focuses mainly on cocktails
It took years for her business to take off and hasn’t been easy, not one bit. At times it felt like everyone wanted to see her fail and she has openly spoken about her struggles as not only a entrepreneur but as a woman in this business where no one wanted to take a chance on her
That just lit the fire that’s already inside of her
Aries sun + Leo moon + Scorpio rising? (Personality vs how you react to things emotionally vs you’re outside shell for those who don’t follow this too much. I’m not too in depth about it but I do find it interesting!)
Or should she be reversed as a Leo sun with a Aries moon? Aries are direct, fiery, one step ahead of others, impulsive, and know how to take charge. Leo’s are dramatic, loves attention, passionate, loyal, warm, and have a need to express their passions, and scorpios are intense, secretive, mysterious, and work strategically
anyways, I feel like she’s definitely improved as a person over the span of two years? Or at least I hope she has cause everyone goes thru changes
And she was frustrating in s1 so I just know she had some deeper issues going on so I really think therapy is helping her ass I wish it would help me lmao
Being cheated on honestly made her feel like her mother, weak in her mind she was with this dude for awhile—3 years and he just up and thought it was okay to cheat on her? With his personal trainer?! Yet he didn’t gain any muscle mass?! The ultimate disrespect!!! but one thing she knew? She wasn’t going to stick around like her mom did
But she was bitter about it foresure. She ultimately wanted to corner the girl for messing with HER man but part of her knew she wasn’t the only one to blame. However that didn’t stop her for cussing her out via voicemail a couple of times while intoxicated
Allegra always strived for love cause she’s never really seen it before or felt it
Sure she’s had many boyfriends before?And their names didn’t matter not only because she didn’t remember them? But she never felt the spark with them in the first place?
Maybe she wasn’t meant for love so she kinda put on this bitchy front and always been that way with some shitty friends she had around her until she recently cut them off a year ago
has gotten herself into trouble as a kid: trespassing, and destroying public property, smoking in the girls bathroom, physical altercations, cutting class, being assigned community service, etc... all with these friends she’s had for years!
Before she met her problematic friends in secondary, when she was in her pre-teen stage she was involved in the handbell team and in the Color guard but hates to admit it even tho her parents have pics all over the flat
went away to uni for a semester and wanted to join a sorority but the hazing was extreme to the point she was sent to the hospital then accepted? Which led to more trauma in her life so she dropped out
A few years later she decided on online courses and moved out of her parents flat as soon as she could with the $ she saved up and did not leave in the house since it was not safe to smh
Therapy was really helping sis, she felt a lot better and was working on her deep rooted issues mainly the anger and hurt and never really realized how it revolves around her life. She was super thankful for her therapist and reshaping herself
Many didn’t buy it but she knew she couldn’t give that much of a fuck? She couldn’t. In order to grow you got to learn that you have to involve for yourself and not others
She didn’t like the person she saw watching the show back but when she came back to the reunion a part of her hoped people saw some sort of change in her—even if it’s only been a few months since the show then
Sometimes she’ll slip back into old habits, wanting and doing so by snapping on people and blacking out by getting intoxicated and knowing that healing is a process and valuing yourself is the exact same
has a toy poodle that she loves deeply
doesn’t have many outside friends after cutting off the ones that were toxic
is pro-ab*rtion and had one herself which was aired out by her sister online
has a cozy flat that has a lot of brick exposure inside, a navy sofa which is her favorite piece in her house, and a view to die for!! which erases the fact that her apartment is “cozy” which she uses to replace the fact that it’s much smaller than what she originally wanted. She dreams big ya know!!!
currently has a crush on her art teacher who resembles Adam Rodriguez
but also feels like liking your teacher/instructor is a bit weird? Even tho they’re both grown
yes she is taking art classes now outside of work to find something that’ll bring her peace and these pass months they have until COVID hit where classes had to be cancelled yet she was contacted to continue online but she felt her art was truly shit but he says art is subjective
She feels like there’s a connection there? But at the same time isn’t looking for another relationship until she fully works on herself first! That took awhile for her to accept after she fell into some relations with a few ppl after the show
from there she realized that she might like girls too? And got a little annoyed that it took her this long to figure out especially with the way she felt around MC and cherry
doesn’t like to admit this but her fav holiday is Christmas? Even tho the theme is majorly corny to her but it actually makes her happy?
Feels like that was the only time her family showed love towards each other, and even tho they didn’t come from much, they always followed thru with their traditions
and she misses them a little bit around this time and might be the first one to call them even if the calls are short lived and kinda awkward at first
Loves making gingerbread houses and cookies
i feel like she now embraces her forearm hair but still gets everything else lasered
Miss Allegra has inches okay?! But I definitely feel like now in 2020 she’s chopping that shit off into a pixie cut and when she posts on the gram her hair is usually always damp when she shows it off
some comments — jake: lovely! Jen: babe, ur beautiful! Erikah: 😍 Tim: how hot! You’ve got the whole resident evil thing goin for yous
“Did he just call me a virus?”
And she might get a like from mason that’ll make her feel some type of way
We all have to go thru some growth you know so do you girl!
You can’t tell me she doesn’t play stabscotch!
Used to be obsessed with social media way before going on love island but lately doesn’t mind disappearing for months at a time? You have to cleanse yourself from that shit
idk i see her being mostly cool with jen or erikah and will hang out with them from time to time? Maybe they experienced some growth too, shit I sure hope so
still feels something for mason??? But at the same time maybe it was mainly superficial since mason wasn’t fucking with her like that, not 100% but at the same time gets frustrated that he still doesn’t see where she’s coming from and it’s been 2 years???
She loves hard if given the chance and then feels like shit when it doesn’t work out cause it feels like she wasted a fuck load of time
she no longer follows him because she feels like it’s better for her spirit or whatever and she doesn’t need to see him with someone else
the only guy that she really interacts with is Tim, yet tim is cool with everybody!
Otherwise there’s no real connection with her and anybody else? She wants to keep love island separate from herself now because she’s not exactly the same as she was two years ago? And hopes someday people will get that
Probably watches those auction shows on the telly late at night when she can’t sleep, hoping and can afford some of those things one days
I feel like she has chronic migraines too?
Once had a significant other buy her Allegra-D in all seriousness for her birthday because it reminded them of her & thought it would help her headaches 🤨
Loves the snow, but hates cleaning it off her car! S/O to those HOA fees, bless it cause leggy’s deff bussed her ass once before breaking her collarbone and sued like a mf!!!
Since her hours are hardly consistent since she’s mainly her own boss, she’ll have late nights/early mornings when she returns home and has to shift days where she cleans the flat but when she cleans??? It’s best everyone stays tf out of her way
And don’t try to help her cause you’re doing it wrong 10/10 of the time, she loves cleaning and has dropped mad money on those super expensive vacuums
Only knows how to make what’s relative to her culture: arepas, penne alla vodka, and cawl but otherwise than that? She’d rather clean then spend hours in a kitchen cooking unless she’s making cocktails ofc!
also loves shopping for clothes but shoes are her fav things to shop for
Deff has a steamer over a iron for her clothes
Keeps eucalyptus and lavender oil in her purse at all times
posts mainly on her stories and made a deal with her supporters that she’ll go live once a month since she feels like she owes them that? Since she’s not as active anymore but she really doesn’t owe anybody shit but out of the newfound kindness of her heart...she does
Believes she got Covid before they all decided to do a shut down/lockdown of restaurants, bars, etc.. and her suspicions were proven correct after she decided to get tested
her anthem? Kali Uchis — Dead to me (acoustic version)
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everwitch-magiks · 4 years ago
Text
dance with somebody (ch. 25)
start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 24
"Oh lord," Bitty whispers to himself. "Oh my goodness."
How long has it been, since the first time he stood in front of the Samwell hockey Haus with a pie in hand, just like this? Four and a half years? No, even longer. Goodness gracious.
He's been able to visit from time to time, since graduation. Providence is close, after all, and the Samwell team will always hold such a dear place in Bitty's heart. It's just, usually, he's come down to watch a game, and always together with Jack. They've stopped by the Haus, of course, have made their rounds and tried to catch up with everyone. Besides, it's not like they don't see many SMH members, former and current, at various other social occasions every so often.
But it's just… Bitty loves coming back to Samwell with Jack, loves reconnecting with their important people and places together. Yet even so, Bitty's relationship with his former teammates isn't quite the same, with Jack added to the equation. Not that going back to the Haus with Jack is bad, or uncomfortable, or anything in between. Not at all. It's just…
Senior year, Bitty became captain. The boys all chose him. Stepping into that role, and leading them through that grueling season, through those excruciating, exhilarating, endless playoffs all the way to actual championship victory, is something that still means more than Bitty can put into words. It was everything. And Jack was there for all of it, yes, he supported Bitty through all of it – without Jack, Bitty isn't sure if he would've held himself together until the end. But while Jack was there, he wasn't there. It wasn't his team.
It was Bitty's.
It's not something that Bitty thinks of as a good thing or a bad thing. It's just the truth. And it probably says something that, when Bitty had hesitantly told Jack that he'd been thinking about making a visit to Samwell on his own, Jack had been completely unsurprised. In fact, Jack's smile had been so knowing, he'd almost looked a little bit smug.
"Of course, Bits. You tell your boys hello from me. Don't spoil them with too much pie, eh?"
Bitty adjusts his bowtie, a little wearily. Gosh. He's actually nervous, isn't he? He has literally no reason to be. It's just the boys, his boys. His home away from home. They'll be happy to see him. Won't they?
Maybe turning up unannounced was a bad plan.
"Bits?"
Bitty almost jumps, he's so startled.
Thankfully, it's just Dex.
"Morning!" Bitty tries for cheerful. It almost works. "I was in the neighbourhood, so. Thought I'd pop by for a bit."
"It's so good to see you, man." Dex is grinning widely as he goes in for a hug. Bitty somehow manages to balance his pie and wrap one arm around Dex, simultaneously. "How long can you stay?"
"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose too much, I'm sure y'all are swamped with homework and practice and-"
"Don't be an idiot. Everyone's gonna be so psyched to see you." Dex's grin softens. "Actually, today, we're-"
"Bitty!"
"Holy shit, Bits!"
"Pie!"
Bitty can't help his smile as Nursey, Tango and Hops tumble out of the Haus. It's debatable, whether or not Nursey has actually managed to put shoes on.
"Careful," Dex mutters as he swiftly takes the pie out of Bitty's hands. "Got your back, there you go."
It's just in time before Bitty is engulfed in something that feels so much like a celly, his heart actually aches.
"Goodness, I've missed y'all." Bitty smiles helplessly. "My, Hops, were you always this tall?"
"Probably," Hops says. He grins widely. "Maybe you just got tinier? Even more itty-bitty."
"Hey, now!" Bitty exclaims. He's grinning, too. Somehow, he has a feeling he'll be doing little else, today. "I'll have you know I'm a perfectly respectable height, Jonathan."
"Come on!" Tango is literally tugging at Bitty's arm in excitement. "This is such perfect timing, we were just-"
"Holy shit. Isn't that Bitty? Hey, everyone, Bitty's here!"
There's the unmistakable sound of a hoard of hockey players sprinting down several flights of stairs, and that's only the calm before the storm.
It takes well over half an hour before Bitty actually makes it inside the Haus.
His heart feels pleasantly warm as he steps into the familiar kitchen. Dex has set his pie to the side of a counter, his aunt’s old curtains are still hanging in the window and someone has managed to keep those plants on the windowsill alive. There's even a couple of succulents that Bitty doesn't quite recognise. Evidently, Bitty's housekeeping ambitions are actually being honored.
Most importantly, though, the kitchen is absolutely bustling with activity.
"We're having a deluxe team breakfast," Chowder is telling him enthusiastically. "Or, well, sort of a team brunch. Except, it's more brunch and lunch, really-"
"And snacks!" someone chimes in. It takes Bitty a second to remember his name – Joseph Lyons, one of the so-called Scones. Bitty has met all of the freshmen before, and he's tried his best to be his usual, charming self and make an approachable impression, but there's certainly something of an endearing flush on the boy's cheeks as he speaks directly to Bitty. "We're actually making baked potato bites, soon as Whiskey's done with the oven. I hope you'll like them!"
"Oh, that's exciting! I'm sure they'll be delicious."
Bitty offers Joseph a somewhat distracted smile. Whiskey? The oven?
He looks further into the kitchen, and… Yes. There's Whiskey. He's mixing something in a bowl, and listening to a boy next to him. A boy who is prattling on about something as he chops vegetables, his brown eyes bright with excitement.
A decidedly unfamiliar boy.
"Hey, Ocean," Nursey says – the boy looks up. "Can I borrow that knife, when you're done?"
"Do we want Derek Nurse with a sharp object in hand?" Ocean asks, just a bit too loudly. He grins as the kitchen at large provides a good round of chirps in agreement. "How about you hand me those tomatoes, Nursey, and I'll take care of them for you."
Bitty watches the boy for a moment longer, his brows slightly furrowed. Ocean seems to fit in quite seamlessly. Did he recently transfer from another school? Or did Bitty somehow actually manage to forget a Scone?
"Hey. Bits."
Whiskey has looked up. For some reason, he's watching Bitty with a certain level of apprehension. Bitty quickly offers him a bright smile.
"It's good to see you," he offers, because it truthfully is. "Jack says hello, by the way."
Whiskey smiles, too.
"Tell him I said hi. I hope you're finding the Haus in a decent enough state?"
"Oh, you best be taking special care of my old room, too," Bitty chirps good-naturedly. "I hope it's to your liking, and all?"
"For sure. You can head up and take a look, if you'd like that trip down memory lane." Whiskey's suggestion sounds surprisingly sincere. "You know the way. Door's unlocked."
"Oh," Bitty says. It hasn't been on his list, exactly, but now that it's being offered… "You know, I'll actually take you up on that."
Whiskey nods towards him, once, before returning his attention to his bowl.
Stepping into his old room feels more than a little bit surreal. It's familiar, of course, but also very different. Whiskey clearly keeps it quite neat – the bed's been made, and it's not too cluttered, overall. There's a Samwell banner pinned to the wall and two eye-catchingly colorful yet discreetly minimalist posters above the desk. It all fits in well with how Bitty remembers Whiskey, on and off the ice – here lives someone with a good amount of discipline, and a simultaneous desire to stand out, and fit in.
On the desk, there's a framed picture of the team from last year's championship victory that Bitty can't look at without getting a lil’ teary eyed. He directs his attention out the window, instead. Unsurprisingly, the view is just the same as ever.
"Changed the decor a bit."
Bitty looks over his shoulder. Whiskey is leaning against the doorway, his hands in his pockets. There's a bit of flour dusted over his sweater in a way that Bitty has no idea how to chirp him for. His expression is almost entirely unreadable.
"It's nice," Bitty tells him carefully. Gosh. This shouldn't be so frightfully awkward. "You look well, Whiskey."
"I'm doing alright." Whiskey steps a bit further inside the room. "Actually, I'm doing better."
"Oh." Bitty tries to smile. Is he supposed to offer a follow-up question? Is this a heart to heart, or small talk? "That's… That's nice to hear."
"Excuse me, sorry." Suddenly, unexpectedly, that boy from before pops in. Ocean. He goes straight for a backpack that's sitting on the chair by the desk. "Just need my charger. I'll get out of your way."
"No, wait," Whiskey says quickly.
The boy stills. There's a moment of eye contact between the two of them that Bitty can't seem to interpret.
"You two should meet."
Whiskey turns back towards Bitty. Slowly, and very deliberately, he places an arm around the other boy's waist.
"Bitty, this is Miguel."
Oh, sweet Mary.
Bitty looks between the two boys, blinking slowly. Of course. Of course.
"Hello." Evidently, Miguel has taken it upon himself to fill out the silence. His smile is, quite frankly, lovely. "Eric Bittle, right? I've heard so much about you."
"Oh, sugar, it's wonderful to meet you." Bitty has recovered enough to extend a hand. He's beaming, and it's probably ridiculous, but he can't quite bring himself to care. "My goodness. Hi. Are you a junior?"
"That's right." Miguel seems to take his enthusiasm in stride. He gamely shakes Bitty's hand. "Me and Whiskey had a class together, this fall."
"And now I can barely get you alone for a minute, given how the whole Haus has collectively adopted you." Whiskey doesn't sound at all bothered by this turn of events. He's got his hands back in his pockets, and he looks quite a bit more relaxed than before Miguel came in. "The Waffles are literally going to all of your games."
"Well, so are you," Miguel says, with a fond smile towards Whiskey. He quickly turns back to Bitty, though. "I'm on the water polo team."
"Isn't that something," Bitty says. And then it clicks. "Oh. Ocean, right?"
"Right." Miguel grins. "We don't really do nicknames in water polo, at least not the same way you lot insist upon, but it's actually-"
"Hey, Ocean!" 
There's someone in the doorway. It's… A Scone. One of the Scones. Bitty really must try to visit more often. The Scone looks between the three of them, his expression mildly confused, before he states his business.
"Joyo and Jader need your advice on their potato-ricotta experiment."
"I'll be right there."
Miguel glances at Whiskey for a second, and there's another moment of silent communication. Then Whiskey nods.
Miguel offers Bitty another smile.
"I'm sure we'll have the chance to talk some more, but I believe I really must see to those potatoes.”
His hand touches Whiskey's briefly on his way out. Bitty would never have noticed, unless he'd known to look for it.
Unexpectedly, Whiskey closes the door behind Miguel. He turns back towards Bitty.
For a second, they just look at one another.
"He, uh." Suddenly, Whiskey seems flustered. "He's great. So great."
"I'm glad." Bitty has rarely meant something so much in his entire life. "Am I right to assume that the team doesn't know?"
"That's right." Whiskey actually looks a bit apprehensive. "We don't… I'm not out to my family. Or to many of my friends."
"I'm just so happy that you're happy." Bitty smiles. "And, can I… He's kind of unfairly pretty, isn't he?"
Bitty would never have guessed that Whiskey could smile so gently.
"Yeah. Honestly, he's kind of everything."
"Oh, Connor." Bitty wants to hug him. That would probably be a little much. "Aren't y'all just too sweet."
"I would, um." Whiskey hesitates. He starts over. "Could you not tell Jack?"
Oh.
Bitty feels surprised. And, surprisingly, just a little bit pleased. It's been somewhat unsettling, figuring out bits and pieces of Whiskey's current life through Jack, watching the two of them connect in a way that Bitty was never able to no matter how hard he tried. Still, he's grateful to Jack for trying to help Whiskey, and even more grateful to him for succeeding. Really, he is.
But it's honestly nice to know that Whiskey trusts him with this. To know that, when it comes to this, Whiskey actually trusts him more. Maybe it shouldn't matter, but if Bitty is completely honest with himself, it does.
"Of course." Bitty smiles. "Honestly, I'm so happy you even wanted me to know."
"I did. I really did." Whiskey runs a hand through his hair. "Bits, you… You must know that I have a lot of respect for you."
Bitty stares at Whiskey. He looks so earnest, and there's a depth to his words that Bitty already knows he will always remember. It's one of those moments in life.
"Thank you," Bitty says warmly. "You know, I've never wanted to make you feel like you need to make choices that aren’t right for you. That you’re not comfortable with."
"No, I know." Whiskey shakes his head. "You haven't made me feel that way. I've struggled with this for a lot of other reasons, I guess. The narrative is always about coming out."
"It is. And that's something I've certainly contributed to."
Whiskey actually smiles.
"Sure. But more than that, you've… I've been in this sport for years. And with everything that's happened with you, and with Jack, it's… There's a before and an after. Things are better."
"Oh. That's… Oh." Gosh, Bitty might actually be tearing up a little. When, exactly, did Whiskey grow up so much? "I'm so glad you think so."
"I believe it goes a little beyond my personal opinion," Whiskey says plainly. He's still smiling. It is, quite frankly, unsettling. "Should we, um. I think the Scones might die a little if you helped them with those potatoes. In a good way."
"Oh, I'd love to cook with those sweet boys." Bitty manages a slight grin. "You know… I almost thought Miguel was a Scone, too. Your boy's not really built for hockey, but he just fits in so well, I didn't know what to make of him."
"You sure you wanna talk about being built for hockey?" Whiskey chirps. He sounds almost playful. "I wouldn't, if I were you."
"Hey, now," Bitty admonishes cheerfully. "What happened to having lots of respect for me? Let's go back to that."
"Why don't we go back to the kitchen, instead?" Whiskey suggests. "I kind of need to check on the oven."
"Of course," Bitty agrees quickly. Obviously, the oven needs to take priority. "Is there, um, any chance you could remind me which Scone is Jader? I think I know, but…"
"Jaden Brant," Whiskey supplies readily. "Tall one. In your defense, he's pretty much joined at the hip with Joyo."
"He is, isn't he? Those two…?"
Whiskey smiles.
"Yeah. Those two." He looks away for a moment. "And that's… They're coming in as freshmen, immediately knowing they'll be accepted. No hesitation."
"That's so wonderful."
Whiskey looks at Bitty again.
"You did that," he says simply. "You know that, right?"
"No, I'm…" Dear lord, he's going to cry again. "Their decision to be open can't be only because of little ol' me. It can’t.”
"Maybe not only," Whiskey concedes. "But they chose Samwell for a reason. They knew they'd be safe here."
"Well. That is nice." Bitty wipes at his eyes. "Dear me, I'm… We should… Oven?"
Whiskey nods. His expression is soft in a way that Bitty can't quite put into words.
"Come on. There are literal and figurative scones to attend to."
As they're leaving the room, Bitty feels brave enough for one final, careful question.
"You actually bake?"
"I know," Whiskey says. He sounds… Relaxed. Content, even. "It's not bad. Feels like I'm doing something nice for everyone. You know?"
"Yes," Bitty agrees eagerly. This day is already turning into so much more than he could ever have hoped for. "Believe me, Whiskey. I know."
ch. 26
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starkatana · 4 years ago
Text
The Meet Cute
Jason Todd x Female Reader
Summary: Jason meets you for the first time and is smitten by you. It’s your first day of school at Gotham Academy and when Jason sees you at school for the first time everything that can go wrong in front of your crush does.
Author’s note: So, here begins my various one-shots of Jason Todd/Red Hood x Reader//y/n AKA my current obsession. I may compile all of them into chronological order once everything is done. I just really wanted to write and post something. I just have too many WIP’s right now that I need to focus on.
Before Reading: You and Jason meet as seniors in high school.
They aren’t exact ages. This is just a world that I made using these characters because I can. Meaning Jason hasn’t died yet, in this AU (not that it matters for this story – he won’t die and become Red Hood until age 22/23)
Selina is your godmother. You are the child of Selina’s childhood friends. There is no family relationship between you and Jason even though you will be living in Wayne Manor and occasionally call Selina, Auntie.
Sorry if its a little out of character, this is just based on my knowledge that tumblr has given me.
“Are we allowed to be here?” Dick asked as he pulled up the car to the music venue.
“Yeah!” Jason said giddily with excitement. “The venue said, shows are open to those 18+ and I just turned 18!”
“I guess. I feel like we fought crime here before.” Dick looked around the area.
“Where haven’t we fought crime in Gotham.” Jason shrugged, “Let’s go!”
Jason and Dick wait in line for the rock show. The venue marks Jason’s hands with a big stamp that showed he was underage to drink and without Dick, he ran into the venue. Letting the sound of the music envelope him, he moved his way through the crowd when he got caught in a mosh pit and someone much bigger than him grabbed him in and threw him down.
“C‘mon dude!” You effortlessly help Jason up off the floor.
Jason, even though he was 18 and still in high school, he was not a small dude he was Robin at night, and during the day between homework and theatre, he was fighting with the Titans. He was not small. Compared to you, he was a giant, even though, when he stood up he was only a head taller than you. The way you swooped in from the mosh pit to help him up, took his breath away.
“You okay?” you yell over the sound of the music.
Your y/h/c was in a high ponytail and you had the perfect cat-eye eyeliner wing. You looked breathtaking. Sweaty and beautiful you were wearing a black t-shirt that was tied in the front, with ripped black skinny jeans, a red flannel, and black converse high tops. He never loved the color red so much than this moment.
“Hey!” you snap him back to reality as he nods still speechless looking into your y/e/c eyes with the lights and moving in the background.
“Good!” you give him a half-smile, followed by a wink, before going back into the mosh pit.
“There you are!” Dick grabbed Jason’s arm and pulled himself towards Jason “I thought I lost you back there.”
Jason doesn’t move and doesn’t pay attention to Dick as he’s watching your petite form in the crowd. How well you handle yourself as you throw down with the other people in the mosh pit.
“Dick, I think I’m in love.”
“What?” Dick yells over the music “I! Can’t! Hear!”
Jason grabs this brother’s shirt collar and points him over to you “Girl. High pony! Headbanging!” Jason couldn’t take his eyes off you as you headbang to the music. “I. Love. Her.”
Dick looks back and forth between her and him. 
“WHAT?!”
He wanted to hang out with you all night, there was one time during the show where you were crowd surfing and you got on stage with the band and jammed out with them. He ran into you often that night and you two shared some laughs and some dance sessions. It was a night he would remember.
Then his alarm went off. It was the next morning and Jason couldn’t get you out of his head. He got up and got ready for the first day of his senior year. In the kitchen he made himself a bowl of cereal but walking to put the milk back he almost trips on the cat, spilling the milk.
“Do be careful Master Todd.”
“It was the cat!”
Alfred gave him a nod and continued cooking breakfast when Jason sat at the island and when he put his hand down the spoon went flying out of the bowl. “Ah! I’ll clean it.”
“Seems like today just isn’t your day.”
“I’m not superstitious and black cats aren’t bad luck.” Jason shrugged.
“You might not be superstitious but it might just be some bad luck.” and Alfred slid him a salt shaker and pointed over his left shoulder, “don’t forget the family dinner tonight. Now, please excuse me, I have to go wake up Master Drake so you two aren’t late to your first day.”
“Yeah.” Jason sighs and takes the salt and throws some over his left shoulder. Not for him, but for Alfred.
At school, you’re walking through the halls with your coffee, class schedule, and other paperwork in your arms. You’re on your phone when Jason is walking towards you and does a double-take unsure if you were the girl from last night. He jogs over to you and doing so he slips on a banana peel like in the cartoons and crashes into you. Causing you to spill coffee all over yourself.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Jason says quickly getting up and offering a hand to help you up. You take his hand and when he saw your face, he couldn’t believe his eyes. You were the girl from the show last night.
“I’m good it was just iced.” You wipe off your uniform best you can, but your white blouse was now stained. You looked up at Jason who was quietly staring at you. A cat had run away with his tongue.
“Excuse me.” You use your jacket to cover up your chest, begining to walk away.
“No!”
You stop and furrow your brows at him.
“Fuck, I mean, I’m sorry about your uniform.”
You still have your chest covered. “It’s whatever.” 
“I’ll buy you a replacement coffee later.”
“It’s fine.” Then the warning bell for class rang. “I have to go.” You walk past him and throw away the cup and continue with your day. Jason watched you walk away and slapped himself in the forehead. How did he fuck something up as easy as that?!
Ironically enough, for the rest of the day, you keep running into each other. Literally. After the first incident and before lunch he waves to you. As he walks over to you he trips and falls into you. Knocking all your stuff out of your arms.
“Hi.” Jason sheepishly greets from on top of you.
“Hi.” You shove him off of you and start picking up your things.
“I’m so sorry, I’m usually not this clumsy.” He responds helping you pick things up.
“I’m sure.” You respond with a slightly annoyed tone.
“I’m going to make this all up to you.”
“It’s fine.” You go to reach for your pencil and he does the same and you two bang heads.
“Shit.”
“Fuck.”
You two swore, grabbing your foreheads. You quickly snatch your pencil and get as far away from him as possible.
“I’m sorry!”
At lunch, he sees you at a table outside, and a little bit over behind you he sees a coffee cart. A lightbulb goes off in his head and he buys you a coffee and one for himself. He’s minding his own business and at the same time keeping an eye on you to make sure you haven’t disappeared. Once he gets the coffee, he begins walking over to you. He’s rehearsing what he’s going to say to you once he gets to your table.
Hey, I’m Jason. Sorry about today. No. Hey, were you at the Favorite Places show last night?
But getting caught up in his thoughts he trips over his own feet and spills the iced coffees all over you from behind.
You jump at the sudden burst of cold liquid all over you. “Oh my god!” You get up and turn around you see the same boy from earlier.
“Are you fucking SORRY?!”
Your jaw drops even further than it had already. Jason’s face goes super red. You shake your head and start gathering up your things.
“That’s not,” he gets up from the ground, “What I wanted to say.” He squeaked.
You roll your eyes and continue to ignore him.  With your stuff barely packed away, you grab your jacket uniform, the only dry clothing item you now have on you, and walk away from him. 
“Fuck.” Jason grabbed his head. Today was going great.
On your way to the last period of the day, you two make eye contact across the courtyard. There was something about you that took Jason off guard. When you saw him, you turned around going back inside the building to avoid walking near him. He was devastated.
Later that evening in Wayne Manor:
“Hey Little Wing,“ Dick walked into Jason’s room “ooooo....” he leaned against the door frame. The room is dark and Jason is slumped over his bed, “is this a bad time?”
“Pretty sure the girl from last night was at school today and everything went WRONG.”
“Ouch.” Dick flicked on the light, “What happened?”
“What didn’t happen?!” Jason sat up in bed. “I spilled coffee on her twice, but not just two cups of coffee. Three. She was drenched in ice coffee by lunch.”
“Oh, that sounds like a bad day for her and you.”
“Young masters, please report to the main dining hall, dinner is ready,” Alfred announced over the intercoms.
“You can talk more along the way.”
Jason explained everything that happened at school today to Dick and when they got into the dining room Bruce and Selina were there along with Tim and Damien and the last person that Jason laid his eyes on was you.
Jason’s jaw dropped. 
Your eyes narrowed.
“Jason! Dick! Take a seat this is my goddaughter, y/n.” Selina introduced, “She’ll be staying with us and going to Gotham Academy with you and Tim.”
“Hi, I’m Dick.” he reached out his hand and shook hands with you, “Pleasure meeting you.”
You shakes his hand and gives him a smile in return and Dick takes a seat one away from you, leaving the only space at the table next to you for Jason.
You then turn your attention to Jason. “And you must be Jason.”
Hi.” Jason said sheepishly avoiding eye contact and quickly taking a seat at the table next to you.
“Wow, this is a first.” Selina said, “I have never seen Jason so quiet.”
Jason grows furiously red.
This was the worse karma.
---
My boyfriend said I need to stop sitting on all my stories and that I need to share them with the world. I’m embarrassed and I don’t like people knowing what I’m into.So, better share with all the strangers on the internet! 
Hope you enjoyed it! I’ll be back soon!
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unidentifiedflyingfks · 3 years ago
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Movie: FINAL GIRL (2015)
Cast: ABIGAIL BRESLIN of Little Miss Sunshine and Zombieland
WES BENTLEY of and The Hunger Games, Yellowstone, and my personal favorite P2
ALEXANDER LUDWIG also of The Hunger Games and Vikings
This movie has literally kept me up all night with questions. Mainly how did they get Abigail Breslin, Wes Bentley, and Ragnar Jr. all to agree to be in this awful movie? Then, answering my own question, can literally anyone with $$ make a movie and pay reasonably well known actors to play in it? Then, is everybody fucking with me?
***Side note: the term ‘final girl’ is a common trope in horror referring to the last girl left alive, or the survivor. (Ex. Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween)
The director, Tyler Shields, is better known for his photography career and before that professional inline skating, funnily enough, where he worked alongside the likes of Tony Hawk and other pro skaters. His photography seems to be centered around shock value with works including items like black guys lynching a KKK member, Lindsay Lohan as a vampire, a crocodile biting a crocodile skin purse, and more recently a photo of Kathy Griffin holding what looks like Donald Trump’s severed head. (Spoiler alert: Donald didn’t take it well) Basically all playing off of easy to reach social issues that will exploit controversy without offering anything other than surface level discomfort IMO. Final Girl was his debut film and while I will credit its high production value and actors I soo wanted to like, that’s where it ends.
(Tyler shields and his infamous photo)
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The movie begins with Wes Bentley’s character interviewing a child (young Breslin) who just lost her parents under seemingly violent circumstances. She demonstrates puzzle solving skills and seemingly photographic memory as well as a apathetic view of death—as when she says “death happens” right after the death of her parents. So Bentley recruits her for **something** hard that most people can’t do. He also reveals his wife and child were killed by **someone** (not the villains the whole plot centers around because if they’re seniors in high school at the time they would have been about 6 when his wife was killed assuming it was recent to the death of Breslin’s parents since we’re…. ah doesn’t even matter. Too stupid.)
First of all, I love Abigail Breslin. She’s beautiful, funny, and I especially like her as #5 on Scream Queens. Buttttt, let’s keep it real she was horrible for this role. It was never believable that she was an elite agent trained since childhood to mirk people with her bare hands. That being said, her training basically consisted of talking yourself up, choking Bentley, and taking DMT (Also, what?) so it’s not all on her. I would have even been with it if she used her aforementioned puzzle solving skills and smarts to beat the boys, but instead were treated to unrealistic fights scenes with Breslin’s character takes multiple punches to the face while looking the daintiest I’ve ever seen her.
Stop there if you’d like, you have the jist, but there is a little more.
Anyway it all starts when she’s launched on her mission. Is it the first mission of many, or what she’s been training for her whole life, we don’t know. Breslin befriends a girl in a 50’s style diner with instant milkshakes and they start talking about their love interests. The girl has the hots for a guy other than her boyfriend, and Breslin has the hots for her mentor/dad (basically, right? It’s Wes Bentley I get it, but it’s still kindaaa weird right?) That encounter amounts to very little then Breslin meets Jameson, Alexander Ludwigs of ‘Vikings’, who dresses for prom and invites her out. (Yeah, that’s all I got too)
They meet up with Jameson’s three dumb friends and they’re all wearing their prom garb too. Then they drive out into the wilderness to some teenage drinkin and fuckin couches in the woods—again, not that you’ll see any fuckin’ inthis movie, killin’ motivated crimes only for these teen boys. Breslin’s pops out some DMT laced liquor for the boys and they start playing a game of truth or dare out of a bag for some reason. After a weird spiel from Jameson about a rabbit he feels bad about letting die slowly, Breslin conveniently draws ‘get tied up’ from the truth-or-dare bag. She’s tied behind the back, not that it really matters because she gets out instantly. Then they tell her their plan for the four of them to hunt her down ‘The Most Dangerous Game’ style. They give her five minutes to run, but one guy is too eager to kill her and runs off before the five minutes is up. Luckily he’s tripping balls by now in the way only people who have never tripped any balls imagine tripping balls is like, so while he’s battling two deadmou5e-like apparitions Breslin can steal his axe and kill him with it. Now she’s armed, oh never mind she left the axe in that guy’s chest.
Then she kills another hallucinating guy after taking a couple blows, then she goes after the third guy. Number 3 is also clone kid #7 from UltraViolet, his worst fear is that his girlfriend, the one from the 50’s diner, is fucking Jameson—which she is—and also that she will find out about their “hunting trips” and he will have to kill her for it. After hallucinating all of this, including a fist fight with Jameson who apparently isn’t even there, it is revealed to be Breslin’s character encouraging his hallucinations the whole time. She then kills UltraViolet-child-actor with a rock to the face in the the best kill scene of the film.
(See?)
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The only one remaining at this point is Jameson, who incidentally is the only boy who didn’t take the DMT laced drink. Breslin is beat up and exhausted by the time Jameson encounters her. Before THEIR fistfight they engage in a game of wits (not For realz). They each answer each other’s questions with Breslin revealing she enjoyed killing the boys and Jameson AKA Ragnar Jr. admitting they’d already killed 20 women the same way. He then asks her to join him and continue killing together, but she declines, they fist fight, she chokes him like she choked Bentley in the beginning, and drugs him.
(This is the high school goof supposedly responsible for 20 murders. I just can’t get over this. As an avid reader of true crime, numbers like this are unheard of for a guy of his age. Also are we supposed to believe 4 guys in Tuxedos in this seemingly small town have killed 20 women and no one noticed? GTFO)
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When Jameson wakes, he’s in a noose on a stump teeter tottering for his life as he starts to hallucinate. He satisfactorily begs Breslin for mercy, then is overtaken by his worst fear—the ghosts of his victims who startle him off the stump and to his death by strangulation.
After Ragnar Jr’s dead, Bentley walks out of the forest with a sniper rifle and I almost freaked TF out. I don’t feel good about comparing it to LOTR, but it’s like Gandalf calling in the giant eagles to take Frodo home after he’s travelled a third of the world to get there ON FOOT. What. Was. The. Point. Seriously. (Actually seriously—would the birds have been corrupted by the ring of power, or is that just like a major plot hole? And was Breslin on hard drugs for a little while and I didn’t hear about it?)
Anyway, after that Breslin and Bentley go to a diner, order pancakes, agree that they taste terrible, and that’s it. The end.
I know you may be thinking ‘yeah unidentifiedflyingfks, but your missing the deeper meaning—they all took the DMT and it made them face their worst fears!’ Yeah—I get that, but it still doesn’t mean it works. I would have literally rather it be magic than DMT. They’d probably all have different reactions and probably not even be incapacitated in the ways depicted in the movie. For it to expose everyone’s ‘worst fears’ is fucking magic anyway so let’s go ahead call a spade a lazy, half baked plot line, m’kay?
What really irks me about this movie though, is it could have been good. Have Breslin act within her skill set and find ways for her to use them that make sense, or at least give her some boxing classes and have her lift weights for Christ’s sake. Also these teens have killed 20 girls already? Where did they even come from? Also Bentley knew and this was the best way he could come up with to take them down? And who told him to act like a total weirdo creep in every scene? I don’t expect much. If you can’t make it good make it funny and this was neither. I wanted to like this movie, I still like Breslin and Bentley, but for as many reviews I read that wanted to give it 0 stars and couldn’t, I will. Never forget…. Oh never mind forget it all.
***0/5 FF’s, first certified TERRIBLE MOVIE!!
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Here’s some user comments I found 😂😂 ->
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supercoldhottub-blog · 4 years ago
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Roleplay Partner Search
Hey Hi Hello!
My name is Leah and I’ve been role playing on and off for about a decade! (I know, I know, I’m an old fart in the role play community lol). Over the last few months, I have been gaining a few partners, but would love a few more!
First things first; the rules
I’m over 25 (I know, I’m an old old lady) and I would like to you be 18+
Have fun! You don’t have to make this super serious and only about the role play. Talk to me about being bold, crazy, adding some drama! (I love drama!)
Communicate! Just like I want us to have fun, I would like for this to be something we're talking about. We are creating something together so let’s talk about how to make this story bigger and better.
Pairings! I am looking for a mxf type of pairing and I would like to play the female. I have been playing the male for years and would like a turn as the lady.
Length! I tend to match whatever you give me. But I'm also looking for someone to be fairly literate with me. I'm looking for looooooong posts that I can get lost it. I love it. That being said, I’m looking for someone advanced.
Romance! I have a soft heart and love love! So I’m looking for a romantic role play please! But that doesn't mean that they are in love by the first post.
Oh me or my, you have made it this far! Wonderful! Now we need to talk about what we are going to role play!
Here are just a few of my ideas!
Vampire Prince and a Human: Just as the prince was thinking that he was going to run out of food, his guards brought him a little treat that they found wandering in the royal woods. There is something different about her though and he can’t understand what it is. Instead of a one time meal, maybe he can have her be his only food source until he can’t figure out what it is about her that makes her different.
Christmas Vacation: It’s winter break at this random boarding school and the schools yearly clean up. This means that everyone needs to leave the school. Everyone knows that they are going on beautiful trips all over the world except one student. She doesn’t have enough money to do anything and is looking for help anywhere she can. He lied to his parents about bringing his ‘girlfriend’ on the family vacation this year. Too bad he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Maybe they can help each other in order to make it through the two week vacation.
Study Buddy In order to get into the grad program of her dreams, she needs more volunteer hours on her resume. In order to get out of this school, he's going to need to pass his last few classes. With the push of their counselor, they end up helping each other get to the places they want and so many more places.
Modern day fairy tale - Cinderella College means studying, late night adventures, and parties. When a girl goes to a party and catches the eye of a college senior, finding her will be harder than he thought. Mostly because she’s hiding from him. But why? They knew each other from middle school and the ugly duckling turned into a beautiful swan.
Romeo and Juliette (without the whole dying thing) It's hard to go against your family, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Plus it's a little fun to run around and do what you're not supposed to do. The time period, why their families are feuding, and ages can all be discussed and talked about!
WWII soldier x War Nurse The war is coming to the end, but that doesn't mean that soldiers aren't getting hurt. In one of the pop-up hospitals it's not only the injuries that are getting well, but the relationships between soldiers and nurses are getting on as well.
Years later and you're still the one College romances are fun, but when graduation comes, parting ways is normal. And like most college graduates, going back home isn’t always the thing to do. With a big move in play, it’s time to look around the town and see what’s out there. During a look around the town, they see each other and even though they thought they were over them, there was a gut feeling that they couldn’t get over. When they bump into each other a few years down the line, will the love they used to have come back?
Rich and the poor It’s hard growing up when there is no money to get you anywhere. It’s hard when you have all the money in the world but don’t want to go anywhere. Sometimes, what you really need is another person to balance out your life. But will her friends think he’s treating you like a charity case? Will his friends think she is always trying to get something more out of him?
If you have something that you’re interested in and think I might make a good partner for, let me know! I’m always willing to hear other people’s ideas 📷
These are the ones that I think will be fun and have a lot of directions they can go in! But I think that’s everything that I need to tell you! I hope to hear from lots of new friends! Now I have combined a few of them together in the past and so if you're looking at a pair that might night together, we can work it out! I love the idea of plotting together and learning about what we can do to make it fun and exciting!
If you’re interested, PM me!
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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago
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Survey #367
“i should warn you that you may fuck me, but chances are i’m gonna fuck you over”
Where was the last place you went for vacation? The beach. When was the last time you wore makeup? Halloween. Do you watch soaps or drama series? If so, which ones? Not currently. What’s your favourite tomato variety? I hate tomatoes. What was your very first pet like? Dad had a dog named Trigger when I was born, but I have no memory of her, so I'm excluding her. I consider our first family pet to be Chance, a cat my mom took in after finding her literally in the trash. She was... god, incredible. She was a loyal friend, and I can imagine no greater mother than she was (she legit fought off a rottweiler head-on to protect her kittens). She was so smart, so gentle, and just simply amazing. I'll always miss her. What was the best school project you remember doing? Looking back, despite the fact it TERRIFIED me before, that would be my senior project presentation. It was about snake misconceptions and fallacies, so I made a slideshow to present to the special ed class. I made drawings for them to color, word searches, all that kind of stuff. They were just the sweetest and seemed really into it. What’s your favourite type of fish to eat? None. What kind of an old person do you think you’ll become? I really... don't like thinking about this. Like I'm weak enough now at 25, I can't imagine how my, say, 60s would be. I hope and just about pray that my physical health will improve, but I'm just going to exclude that part entirely from this answer. Personality-wise and such, I have a feeling I'll be the quiet and sweet kind, the one that loves her (hopeful) spouse like crazy, and comes most alive on Halloween if I live in a place where children come trick-or-treating. I imagine I would LOVE that. I'd love to be the type that goes on morning jogs to help stay spry. Which well-known person’s death shocked you the most, if any? Steve Irwin and Chester Bennington might be tied. Both were so, so sudden. Steve was like, invincible to my childhood eyes, and when I heard about Chester's death, I thought it was just a sick rumor. Two amazing people that died way too soon. What’s the craziest colour you’d dye your hair? That would depend on personal opinions. I want to dye my hair LOTS of colors though, if that tells you anything. What’s the coolest hobby one of your friends has? Uhhhh. Idk. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus. It's a pretty short game if you know what you're doing, and it's super relaxing to me and just so goddamn pretty to look at. Every time I've played it has just been a pleasant experience. Do you like meatloaf? Yeah, it's fine. How about Meatloaf? I know who he is, but I've never really listened to his music. Do you take time to do charitable work? If so, what do you do? No. ;_; Especially with all the free time I have, I really should... What is something that will make you laugh instantly? Okay, don't ask, but if I for a SECOND see that commercial of Mr. Clean dancing while he's cleaning, I will die because of memories. What is something you hope you will never inherit from a specific relative? Diabetes. It runs heavily in my family. Name a movie you wouldn’t watch solely based on its name: The Human Centipede. No. Thank you. Have you ever played in a stack of hay bales? No. What’s your dearest souvenir? The stuffed moose I got at Cabela's during a visit to Ohio. I named him Brownie, and he was my "childhood plushie" we all have. Is there a lot of graffiti around your neighbourhood? Not in the actual area I live in, but there are DEFINITELY places where it's a pigsty of distasteful shit. Have you ever made your own soda? (Soda Stream doesn’t count!) No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Have you ever been part of a theater group? No, that stuff doesn't interest me. What’s the most ecological thing you do? We recycle, and I also use metal straws. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. There is no fucking way I could do it. What’s your favourite board game? Why do you like it best? I like Clue just because of the mystery-solving factor, and I think it's kinda cool how you can think ahead and use other's findings to your own advantage to win the game pretty early. Besides English, what other languages can you speak? Some German. It's gotten pretty weak with neglect, though. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you’ve been? This is a complicated answer that I just don't feel like elaborating on. What’s the most freeing thing you’ve ever done? Letting Jason go. Have you ever had a restaurant dish that was made with bugs? If not, would you even want to try one? No, and I'm not interested. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? Honeysuckles. What has been your worst restaurant experience? Well, it's a fast food restaurant, but lemme tell you about my vegetarian encounter with Burger King. I ordered their veggie burger. Which they have. It's not a secret. These idiots gave me a bun with tomato and lettuce, and I think mayo on it, after sounding confused when Mom was ordering for me. Mom went back in there of course to tell them, and oh god was the manager pissed, lol. I got my veggie burger in the end. What’s the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? Some sexually inappropriate jokes can still get me sadly, lol. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? Not literally, but boy do I think depression counts. Do you ever compare your life to somebody else’s? If so, why? Y E P. I can't tell you why, I just... do it. I look at other's successes and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?", and beat myself up about being a failure. What is a food item or a dish you absolutely cannot stand? Brussel sprouts, asparagus, runny eggs, many other things because I'm just mega picky. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? Just the spray paint kind that vendors like to do at the beach and stuff. I don't remember any I got, though. What does your favourite mug look like? It's black with a Markiplier quote on it, given to me by Sara. :') Do you ever read other people’s survey answers? Yeah! Friends', anyway. I love learning all the obscure things about them. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, specifically early morning, because it's better for my depression. Are you more comfortable as a leader or a follower? A follower that isn't afraid to speak up when I'm really against something. What is your favourite song right now at this very moment? I've been really into "7empest" by Tool lately, and the synthwave edit of "Voices" by Motionless In White. If you watched The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, who was your favourite character? I don't remember it well, but I think I liked the butler. Was there even a butler? Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') Do you have any plants in your home? No. If you wear makeup, what’s the most outrageous colour you use? I only ever use black. What was the last photograph you took? My cat being adorable while sleeping. <3 Have you ever submitted a video to Funniest Home Videos? No. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer? I absolutely hated it. Do you have a headache at the moment? Yes, actually. I've really been attacked by the Covid shot side effects. Are your parents still together? No, thank god. What was the last hot food you ate? I made a chicken and I think pesto (some Italian noodles, idk) Healthy Choice bowl for dinner last night. Have you ever seen a meteor shower? No. :( Do you ever feel afraid people will question your sanity? I'm sure people have before, and back then? Rightfully so. Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? Never watched it. Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? Always. It's so weird how it's gotten worse with time since leaving school, even though I write... Were you a straight A student in math? Yeah, no. I usually got Bs or Cs. What is your favorite shade of yellow? Pastel. I don't really like yellow. What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? Have a stable job. Are you afraid of getting yelled at? YES. Do you feel a connection to the moon? It's not something I think about, so not really, but I do believe all things in the universe are connected in some way. We are simply a part of nature, as all else is. What does your heart long for? Contentment in who I am and where I am in life. I know I also miss being in love. Do you know what your purpose in life is? We have no innate purpose; we make our own, and I want mine to be to show others that there is always hope for yourself in yourself, and also to spread the message of love of all animals. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? Last year I didn't. I really should change that this go around. Have you ever seen a fox? Yes! They're a kind of rare sight here sadly, so when I had the opportunity to photograph a fox tragically as roadkill, it was a photographic experience I won't forget. God, I wanted to pet it (I obviously didn't), but I did talk to it about how beautiful (s)he was as I got some shots. I never had a harder time leaving one of those angels I've taken pictures of. Do you find Halloween fun or scary? FUN!!!!!! Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? Not at all. What do the trees look like where you live? I mean, there's a variety, but the staple that you see literally everywhere are pine trees. What is your dream vacation? Somewhere with mountains, clear lakes, cool weather, beautiful and various wildlife... What was the best vacation you’ve been on so far? Disney World as a kid. What is the best class trip you’ve been on? The zoo in the 5th grade. It was the one occasion I got to see meerkats. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? I lived for them. Do you find museums boring or interesting? I find science museums to be very, very fascinating. Art ones are great, too. What are three issues you are passionate about? LGBT rights, the pro-choice movement, and wildlife conservation, to name a few. Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? No. I'm not patriotic enough at all. What size is your bed? Queen. What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? When we were experimenting with my Klonopin dosage, I learned that 3mg was enough to knock me on my ASS. Do you like bath bombs? I mean they're pretty, but I wouldn't waste money on 'em. Who are your favorite small YouTubers? Yikes, a looooooot. But this also depends on what you think qualifies as "small." Most of my favorite "small" YTers are tarantula keepers or sub-1M let's players. Who are your favorite big YouTubers? Markiplier obviously, Snake Discovery, Good Mythical Morning (even if I don't watch them anymore, they are veeery dear to my heart and I will always support them), Sam & Colby... Again, there's a lot. When you don't watch TV and YT instead, you really get attached to a lot of them. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Would you believe me if I said Pussycat Dolls? haha Do you like Disney movies? Um, DUH. Were you ever in the popular crowd? No. Have you ever used an outhouse? UGH, at like childhood sports games, yes. I could NEVER nowadays, oh my god. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I think I have the creativity to, but not the dedication. Are there any foods that make you gag? Beans, for one. I just canNOT with them. It's a completely involuntary reaction. Have you ever had blonde highlights in your hair? I think I did? Who was the last person you video-chatted with? The lady who was seeing if I qualified for TMS therapy. Do you think sleeve tattoos look trashy? Definitely not, I love those. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? I don't actually want one, but if I did, I'd go to a serious professional to get THE Darkiplier smile. :') If u know u know. Do you have any stickers on any of your electronic devices? No. Do you think half blonde/half dark brown hair is attractive? It looks great on some people, but it's not my favorite combo.
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dorkylittleweirdo · 4 years ago
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crazy shit that happened during high school
freshman year:
my favorite teacher (pe coach) ended up being a pedophile. it’s kinda scary to think about bc like,, that was my favorite teacher and i trusted him and if he tried anything with me i don’t think i would’ve stopped him and just yikes. but yeah, it was a whole thing. once the school found out they got the police involved and he fled the state. they got him in the end but i mean,, i spent a lot of time in the secretary’s office crying about it bc i really trusted that dude and i was distraught over it. that might’ve been where my trust issues started??? fun stuff
my school shut down. like i mean,, bc it was a charter school and we had to get the charter renewed. but the board at my school wasn’t using their money the way they were supposed to. it was a whole thing, like the principal left that school year bc he knew what was happening, couldn’t stop them from doing it, and didn’t want to be part of it. so they had a lot of meetings that us kids were allowed to go to so we could see what was happening and all that. i only went to one and it was A Time bc the lady who was recording everything passed tf out and of course nobody was a doctor and my pipsqueak thirteen year old ass went “i know what to do” bc i Did so i had to help her which was a trip in and of itself. but anyways, the school’s charter got denied, and everyone had to transfer, but the district promised that we could go to any school we wanted, not just the one we would have to go to by zip code
sophomore year:
i ended up going to a private christian school. big fucking mistake. absolute disaster. nothing really happened that was crazy by their standards, but it was for me
so they have a house system. think of harry potter, it’s EXACTLY like that. we have points, we have competitions, we have all that extra stuff. it was such a time, like i don’t,, i don’t even know how to explain how fucking weird that shit was
i came out in the middle of class. the principal’s daughter was our sub and she goes “okay so everyone is gonna tell us something that nobody knows about them” so when it was my turn i go “so it’s not a secret and y’all should know this but clearly y’all don’t: i’m not straight”. silence. dead silence. we could hear the class next to us it was so quiet. some girl whispers “i knew it”. another girl leans over and whispers to my friend “i’m so sorry”. principal’s daughter gives me the most threatening, condescending smile i’ve ever seen and goes “thanks for sharing”. i had to come out to my mom that same day bc i told me friends and they panicked on my behalf bc when people found out that they were gay, the principal told their parents. and i was Not about to be outed by the principal. my mom has since told me that the principal never contacted her about it so i came out for nothing but i mean i really like being out so we’re good
so instead of prom, cult school has this thing called “the ball”. sophomores, juniors, and seniors are allowed to go bc there’s less than fifty people per grade so if sophomores don’t come, there’s not enough people. so i went bc my friends were all going and i was like “yeah why not might as well”. three dance lessons. three fucking dance lessons for this stupid ball that i didn’t dance once at. i literally had three panic attacks in the span of an hour at the second one, and then i had swim practice right after. fucking exhausted. felt like i ran five marathons by the time i got home. the last lesson i didn’t do any dancing, just vibed with my friend in the corner. so at the actual ball, same friend and i vibed at the tables the whole time. we went to the bathroom for like an hour and took mirror selfies and tried to make our asses look bigger bc we’re Like That
SO AFTER THE BALL, there was apparently a massive party and there was alcohol and stuff. so my friends and i were blissfully unaware bc nobody liked us bc who tf likes the school sinners. so we walked to get ice cream after in our fucking ballgowns and suits looking like All That. so the principal thought that it was one of us who hosted the party and we were like “??? what party?”. literally almost got in trouble bc the principal thought we were LYING. i told my mom and she takes No Shit, so when the principal called her demanding to know if i went to/hosted the party, she marched her ass down to the school and was like “i know y’all have something against mexicans and people who are different from y’all, but that’s no reason to blame my daughter for something that your so called “perfect” students did”. my mom got Heated, roasted the fuck out of the principal, then LEFT. principal never fucked with my mom after that
so there was a fire like across the street from the school. the fd told us to evacuate, but noooooo the school was like “god will protect us” i’m like “okay but i’m gay and apparently your god hates that so i think we’re gonna Perish”. the fucking POWER went out and they STILL wouldn’t let us go. my mom called to sign me out so i could go wherever the fuck i wanted in the school until my friend’s dad came to pick us up bc she couldn’t get there bc of the fire. so i vibed next door to my friends’ class and i was like “heeeeey god’s trying to kill the gays” and we laughed about that until my gay ass got saved lmaoooo
okay so this is the funniest memory i have. in chemistry once, our teacher took us outside and started digging a lil hole next to the school. and keep in mind, my chem teacher used to be a hardcore atheist druggie, like fucking meth and coke and shit. took a theology course and converted. so he’s really sweet and nice but he’s also Slightly mad scientist vibes. so anyways, he puts something in this little hole, lights it on fire. i forgot why he did it, but i was standing back with him and one of the exchange students and the three of us watch in Horror as the rest of the class makes a circle around the fire and start doing some weird dance and saying something. it wasn’t like a chant, idk what to call it, but they were like counting like “and one, and two, and three, and four” and then the dance would get more intense and they’d get louder. so eventually they were screaming and going apeshit and i looked at my teacher and he’s just,, watching them do this. i’m like “and i’m satan, huh?”. like these kids really trying to summon the devil but i’m the bad one bc i like girls
junior year:
so technically this was during the summer but i’m putting it here. they have like a house party after the school year ends. i made cookies. apparently they “looked weird” so nobody ate them, two of my soon to be teachers kept insulting them. i called my mom to pick me up, took my cookies with me, got back in the car in tears. had to have a whole conversation with the principal and those two teachers so they could apologize bc i wanted to leave the school after that. dw tho, i took my cookies to the guards at my summer camp and they appreciated the hell out of them bc they were Very Good Cookies
so my ap bio teacher was an enabler. i was his favorite bc i wasn’t a religious nut and it was very obvious that i believed in science and not whatever the hell this cult was doing with their creationist bs. also he was a parasitologist and i’m super into parasitology so he had fun talking about it to someone who both understood and was extremely interested in the topic. i rolled up to class one day like “hey so i’m gonna buy hissing cockroaches from amazon, if my parents find out and don’t let me keep them do you want them??” and he’s like “yeah”. i brought them to class a few times and everyone Hated it but my teacher was like ayyyyy. and everyone thought he was either and atheist or agnostic, so when some girl asked how he thought mary conceived jesus to see what he said, he looked at me like “y’all hear somethin/hel p” and i go “parthenogenesis” and he Went With It, talking about how it was theoretically possible in humans but we ignored the fact that the baby would’ve been a girl bc the class is dumb none of them have ever heard of parthenogenesis before jesus is the true trans icon we all need
my art teacher was my favorite and she knows that i’m gay. she’s the only teacher from my school that i’m still in contact with. so every big project we did, i made it gay. and i knew, and my friends knew, and she knew, but the rest of the class had no idea. i’m like presenting my project and the class would get sus and they’re like “so are those two really good friends” and i’m like “so she has a rainbow heart on her choker and she has a lesbian symbol on her shirt”. the class was still confused and my friend yells “they’re LESBIANS”. it was iconic
my brit lit teacher was bi. she never said it, but i know she was. always talked about how much she hated men, then was like “women are very very good”. no way this woman was straight. so we read dracula and it’s got that Subtext, so one time i leaned over to my friend bc he sat next to me and i go “the Homoerotic Subtext”. and i didn’t realize that the teacher was right in front of me until she tapped my desk and goes “it gets better”, told me a page number that i flipped to, and it was Even More Gay and i was like 😏. also she assigned me a gay poet for my poetry project and i talked about that for my whole presentation in front of the class and it was the biggest paragraph in my essay and i got 100% on it even tho i choked at the beginning. also i mentioned in passing that i liked sappho and she goes “ooh i love sappho” i’m like “ma’am please leave this cult and get you a gf”
senior year:
i left the cult finally. went to the one school i actually liked. i made friends who actually like me and they were patient and they were amazing and i love them all very much even if i’ll never tell them. my classmates were great, v friendly, i had a great time. however,
so many fires. school got cancelled like five times bc of how bad the fires were
the school shooting. i don’t think i need to go further into that, it’s pretty self explanatory
covid. again, don’t need to go further into that, v self explanatory
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loveyouforevergrace · 4 years ago
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My Friendship With Grace
Grace and I met in my eighth grade math class, though it was seventh grade for her. She was honestly way too smart to be in the class, but she was required to have a math class on her seventh grade schedule, so she got pulled into the advanced algebra class for eighth graders. She barely showed up most days because she went to a special group where she learned concepts and formulas that I won’t get around to until my senior year of college. On the days Grace did show up however, she pestered me a lot. Being pestered wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, I didn’t mind her too much. She had braces, I had braces; she was kind of a nerd, and I was kind of a nerd too--it worked out. I would desperately try to figure out the answers of my homework (I still don’t quite understand trigonometry), and Grace would take my phone and play games on it for the entire class. I was definitely fond of her, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. If someone had told me that the eleven year old girl clicking away at Tap Tap Fish on my iPhone SE would grow up to be my best friend, I would’ve told them they were crazy.
Grace and I have an incredible amount of overlap between our interests, which is coincidentally how we reconnected as I went into high school and she stayed in middle school. I was playing a god awful video game with my friends one summer afternoon, League of Legends, and somehow ended up on a team with Grace in it. She entered the call and I recognized her squeaky voice immediately, so we both got talking again pretty quickly. At the time, we bonded over our unfortunate addiction to video games, and our love for Panic! At the Disco, though I like to believe our interests have become a little more refined in recent years. These days we like to go shopping, or just talk about clothes nonstop. We watch anime together, and we’ve moved on from sucking at League of Legends to building dreamy treehouses in Minecraft. In my opinion, our music taste has definitely developed too. She’s fallen down the K-Pop rabbit hole, whereas I’m a bit more into R&B and hip-hop. Despite our differences, I can always trust Grace with the aux cord. Deep down, I don’t think either of us is entirely out of our pop punk phase either. We’ve definitely had some interesting moments in the kitchen as well, whether that’s making an actual meal, or messing around with those DIY cooking kits meant for children. We did once make an entire Thanksgiving dinner for our friend group, and it was pretty damn good if I do say so myself. Additionally, we’re lovers of all things cute (which is definitely reflected in our Thanksgiving pie), and whenever I’m visiting her, we go on frequent Daiso (a chain of dollar stores with objects imported from Japan) trips to stock up on stationary, matching keychains, and other silly trinkets we don’t really need.
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That’s the one disadvantage to the friendship--I have to visit Grace, and I don’t mean a walk across the street, a twenty minute bike ride, or even an hour long drive. I mean a three hour plane ride. Right before my freshman year, Grace’s dad got a new job opportunity working in Seattle, Washington. Essentially, she was torn out of the Midwestern cornfields and dropped off at a new trendy school in a new trendy neighborhood on the west coast as soon as we had started getting close. However, this didn’t stop us from deepening our bond. We did a surprisingly good job at staying in touch, and for the past five years we’ve been able to text for hours a day and call several times a week. As much as we both wish we could meet up at a small cafe for weekly study sessions, it’s just not possible, but we improvise. I’ve spent many nights on the phone with Grace while we watch cheesy animes, eat cut up fruit, and work on our homework. We miss each other like crazy, and COVID hasn’t made that any easier, but the saying “Distance makes the heart grow fonder” couldn’t be any more true.
When Grace and I do get the chance to be together, we go all out. I don’t know any friends who hang out quite the way we do. I don’t know anyone besides Grace who I’d be comfortable sharing a bath with while we wait for our lasagna to finish cooking in the oven. None of my other friends will have a candlelit dinner with me while listening to the Minecraft soundtrack, nor will they wake up at six in the morning to eat strawberries with me while we watch the sunrise. We once found out we were gonna be in the same airport at the same time, and decided to eat breakfast together before we had to part ways. We spend hours walking around the Mall of America since none of the malls in Washington even come close to comparing. One time we went to the art museum and pointed out any sculptures and paintings with two people in them that reminded us of ourselves.
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That brings me to another point - Grace and I are insane at gift giving. With her sheer artistic talent, and my uncontrollable spending habits, we really do each other justice. Those sculptures that I mentioned Grace and I compared ourselves to? She made me a mini version of them for Christmas. No one else has ever taken the time to do something like that for me. This goes both ways. I know no one has ever gifted Grace an enormous package filled with nothing but merchandise from her favorite Sanrio character, Keroppi, or gifted her an entire outfit (complete with accessories) on her birthday. Even the letters she writes to me feel like tiny presents, they’re always handwritten and covered in adorable little stickers. She seals the envelopes with a wax stamp and everything. No one has ever done something so romantic for me before, not even my last boyfriend who I dated for two years.
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I can tell Grace literally anything, and she can tell me anything too. I’ve found that in most relationships, there’s always certain things you can’t say to the other person. I’m bound to clash with almost everyone in my life at one point or another, and I can’t vent about someone’s BS to their own face. Even though things do get talked out with them eventually, it’s often after I have a lot of reflection and planning on how I want to discuss things. Grace is the exception to that--I can tell her anything. We almost never fight or get upset with each other. In fact, the only time we’ve ever had friend problems was when a girl at Grace’s school wasn’t too fond of me dating her ex-boyfriend, and she tried to mess with our friendship as a result. As you can probably guess, we got it figured out pretty quickly.
The bond Grace and I share is definitely not a common one to find. I’ve had friends tell me how badly they wish they had a friendship like Grace and I have, and honestly, I don’t blame them. I love every single one of my friends so much, but there’s such a great connection Grace and I have through our enjoyment of general dumbassery, but also our appreciation for things that are romantic and adorable. She’s the homemade whipped cream to my strawberry pie, the Dancing Figure #1 to my Dancing Figure #2. I want Grace to be in my life for a very long time, and I don’t doubt that’ll happen. I can’t wait for us to fall victim to the 50% divorce rate when we’re in our forties, and realize that “she was the one” all along. And I’m only half kidding.
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bregee13 · 4 years ago
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Sometimes I think about moments in my life where I was so upset about something but didn't have words or complete understanding why, nor the words/confidence to say what I felt. A lot of it often has to do with growing up in poverty and just not being able to interact with the world the same way as "the typical person". Whether it's because of money, mental health, or how my mind works. Or something else.
Maybe one day I will rant about these things. Maybe I'll do it right now. Who knows?
Actually? Y'know what? Fuck it! I'm mad now. I'm going to write what comes to mind about poverty so I never have to write a post about this ever again!
I'm gonna be real. Most of these rants are based on things that happened during my senior year of high school. Why? Not sure. Something about that year slapped me in the face and told me that I was poor and there was nothing I could do about it.
Starting with something NOT from that year, I once went on a school trip that had to do with money and jobs or whatever. There was an exercise where we were put into groups and we had a "budget" and we had to figure out how to efficiently use that budget and "live" with it. And get a job that works for you. The goal was to not lose all your money. We were assigned the LOWEST budget to work with. While the others in my group didn't necessarily always choose the cheapest options, I remember them being somewhat reasonable. It's not like they were wasting money on random stuff, they were trying to do the best they could. For instance, they got a cellphone. While on one hand you could argue that's a waste of money, a cellphone is actually a very VERY important thing to have in the real world! But we failed horribly. But the hosts of the event didn't acknowledge that as some sort of lesson. No. We weren't mentioned at all. It was as if we were expected to make it work somehow. And that doing anything more than the bare minimum was selfish and wasteful. It felt like that anyone who has money trouble got there themselves and deserve it. Which isn't true at all...
In high school, I took Honors English/Literature classes. It's a level higher than the regular CP classes, but it's not AP. Why do I mention this? Because it's well known that poor people are less likely to learn much/receive higher education. I'm honestly surprised I managed to be in any Honors classes at all (especially considering the hell that was 8th grade English). But I remember in my senior year, that the teacher was talking about wealth and how that affects what you have access to and stuff. Which is fine. But then he says that you can tell someone's class by how much they go to Disney world/land. Then he asks the class to raise their hands if they've ever went there. Then practically everyone but me (I didn't take a good look around to see if I was the only one.) raised their hands. "See? Pretty much everyone, right? :)" Is what he said. I hated that moment so much. I felt like such an outsider. I was reminded that I didn't really belong there in that room. It made me question whether or not my teachers just put me in Honors classes because they felt bad. As much as I was good in those classes, I had more than my fair share of moments where I had so much trouble communicating my ideas and thoughts. So whenever someone asks me if I'm any good at writing or debating or reading, you'll just get a mixed response from me.
Another thing that happened in senior year was another school trip. We went to a nearby school. I only went because I was interested in possibly going to that school. But we didn't even go anywhere near where I wanted to be (literally ANYWHERE art related). So it felt kinda useless. Not to say it wasn't interesting though. The trip was themed around the environment and things related to it. I mean, I got to see the process of osmosis. And also some water bears! Who wouldn't want to see that?! But near the end there was a thing where they talked about the environment and about water and waste. But the thing that made me upset was how they kinda villanized people who purchase and drink from plastic water bottles. I look around the room and see I'm the only person who brought a plastic water bottle with them. Awkward. Now let me say that I am very much against the water bottle industry. It's a scam that takes advantage of people. Anyone that has beef with plastic water bottles has every right to! What made me upset was that I didn't feel like I was being considered in that moment. I don't ever feel considered when the topic comes up. Why? Because nobody ever asks why I drink from water bottles. Nobody ever goes "Hmm. Maybe this person doesn't trust and/or doesn't like the taste of tap water?". And if I were to bring that up, people would just tell me to "just get a water filter lol". But you don't understand that I can't afford a water filter. "Just save up for one???" We ARE saving up. For BILLS. For FOOD. To fix up the house. To repair the sink you told me to put a filter on so it doesn't leak anymore?! If you think the same people who CAN'T AFFORD BASIC NECESSITIES can magically buy some kind of water filter that works, you don't know what you're talking about. 
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polyamorouspunk · 4 years ago
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🌻
The very first Warped Tour I went to I went specifically to see Palaye Royale and when I arrived I was looking around for their tent and I ended up finding Remington Leith first so I ended up tagging along with him looking for their booth and just making casual conversation with him and I was like “my mom baked blueberry muffins this morning and I brought you guys some and I made you bracelets” because that was like my first fan experience in anything and I was like idk what protocol is.
Being in Ag meant I traveled around a lot and on the night I was getting home from Boston my best friend texted me like hey Corey Feldman’s gonna be here wanna go see him and I was like fuck yeah so I have a picture of us and Corey Feldman and a signed poster of him I brought with me and I look disgusting my hair is greasy it was like midnight but like it was Corey Fuckin’ Feldman, you know, the dude that she had a framed photo of before this one that she used to carry around school with her and that I had like 200 pictures of on my phone and could recite movies he was in.
I looked at the Teacher Crush Community yesterday for some laughs and there was a meme of the character I’m currently crushing on being like “I’m a slut for older men” and I was like well fuck call me out why don’t you but like I 👏🏻 Don’t 👏🏻 Actually 👏🏻 Want 👏🏻 To 👏🏻 Date 👏🏻 An 👏🏻 Adult 👏🏻 Man 👏🏻 like yeah Savvy fangirls and like yeah I had a small crush of like “this man is attractive” on one of my teachers who my best friend and I would whip out our framed photo of Corey Feldman and put it on our shared table and I would go back and forth with him about how AC/DC is actually a very good band and about how no actually all their songs don’t sound the same thank you smh but like I never had a secret blog dedicated to him because 👏🏻 yikes 👏🏻 but my heart goes out to all the thirsty high school girls who can’t see their hot history teachers in quarantine stay strong queens.
My boyfriend and I actually have no idea if our main teacher even knew we were dating even thought we like held hands under the table and stuff he was a bit of an airhead and had major “weird uncle” vibes but like that was like our dad you know? Like at least one of my classmates called him dad and he called him son like for real you want to talk about family try being in Ag.
Throughout high school it was kind of custom for some kids to hang out in cliques in different teacher’s rooms during our free periods and lunch. My senior year I had like 4 study halls so I bounced between taking a morning shift watching the dogs and letting them out to pee and play with them and stuff and then being in my English teacher’s room where one time I literally commandeered a corner of her classroom to make crafts for my canoe regatta because my best friend and I were captains and I was like this shelf? Mine now. And she was like okay sounds good, and she was such a lax teacher that literally during her class we’d be like can we go in the hall and she’d be like sure or she’d be like it’s a nice day let’s call and let the office know we’re going to go read outside but I had one class that was a new special class I ended up placing into (they called it Advanced Choir, it’s exactly what it sounds like) but that ran on a middle school schedule so half way between our 4th and last period we would have a study hall and we were technically assigned to said English teacher literally only because her classroom was the closest but we would be like “I’m fucking off to ag” and she’d be like okay have fun and I would just go hang out in Ag and plan our second trip to Boston or take a maple syrup shift. Being in Ag had so many perks like literally my teacher would be like oh? You’re on a canoe team? You race canoes? Your partner is also in this school? You wanna come teach my class? Yeah I can pull you out of period two let’s go canoeing and eat exotic foods like black bear instead of what, Latin? Yeah.
I could go on for hours about both Ag and Canoeing as they’re honestly like my two favorite things in the world.
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