HERE WE GO AGAIN | kyrie

[flynn]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent; width: 355px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border-bottom: dashed 1px 487781; border-left: dashed 1px 487781; border-top: dashed 1px 487781; border-right: dashed 1px 487781;] what are you waiting for? take a bite of my heart tonight Dexter was busy trying to figure out why he’d decided to take a computer programming class as he ran his fingers along the strings of his guitar. It seemed stupid in hind sight, he enjoyed computers and all the fun they allowed him, but suddenly all the fun was taken out of it when he was assigned a project to create a website with someone from high school – Kyrie Buchanan. Or as he so maturely used to call her Bitchanan, he had lovely nicknames for everyone he disliked in high school. It wasn’t that she was necessarily ever mean to him per say, but she ran with a crowd that was and therefore she was guilty by association. Simply on account of the fact that he couldn’t understand why someone would want to hang out with people who threw others into dumpsters on a daily basis, unless they were the same way. Dexter wasn’t super unhappy in high school, but in his first few years he definitely wasn’t the boy he is today – bubbly and outgoing. Strumming a couple cords on his guitar, he wondered if she’d changed. After all why would the cheerleader he though he knew in high school be in a computer programing class. On various occasions he was fairly certain that Kyrie had some sort of mental deficiency. Though she could have been falling victim to the old pretend to be stupid approach. Or maybe she’d never been stupid and he just allowed himself to believe it again – by association. This wasn’t a normal reaction for Dex, he didn’t often like to lump people in with other and just assume they were a certain way. In fact he fancied himself as open minded, but it was harder when that person hung out with people who obviously didn’t like you and let you know every day. Not to mention the laughter. Everyone always thought it was so funny to watch a kid get thrown in a dumpster, Kyrie never seemed any different. Maybe he’d manage to give her the benefit of the doubt though. Their meeting ground was on his grown – the auditorium. He knew he’d likely feel more comfortable with the whole initial meeting if he could be in his element. So he made up some bull shit story about how he’d be in music practice and she could meet him there after it ended. Course music practice ended three hours ago and if she’d checked the music syllabus she’d know he was a big fat liar. He was technically practicing though, his music teacher had given them to convert a piano number to another instrument and he was working on that – albeit distracted, but still working on it. He played a couple of the cords he’d already converted from Adele’s Someone Like You and sang the first couple verses, it helped him to come up with the cords if he knew how it would sound with the words, it was simply how his mind worked. He couldn’t just mumble the lyrics either, he had to belt it out like he would if he were actually singing on the stage, which had led to a couple awkward run ins with his roommate, but luckily he knew Dex was a theater/music geek and put up with it when he walked into his room to find Dex belting out a song about loving a guy. They’d come to terms with it. Once he got the cords down though, he’d be able to play it without having to sing along. Once he started singing he didn’t really think about how embarrassing it would likely be when she walked in to find him alone with his guitar singing his little heart out. words; 622 | tagged KYRIE | clothing click notes I hope it's alright, i didn't really know what else to do | lyrics credit neon trees [/style]

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[KYRIE BUCHANAN]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true] She was still trying to 'find herself.' Her twin was already mostly done with his bachelor's degree then he'd go on to his master's degree, and she was just idling like a dumb fuck. Back in high school, she had kept herself busy enough until she quit the cheer leading squad in her junior year. Of course, like anybody related to a politician, she had to step on eggshells, just to make sure she didn't bring shame to her father's 'good' name. Guilt had been something that often overwhelmed her, consuming her very soul. Still, she followed her father's instructions by keeping a poker face and letting people see only what she wanted them to see. After she had quit the squad, she often locked herself in her room, played WoW, tinkered with computers, and avoided all school activities. Her twin had been a football player and for all of their closeness, he only payed attention to her when they were away from the prying eyes of the school. Now, she was going to see if she could take her love for computers to another level, to see if she could make sense of her life, and finally make something of herself. She still wasn't proud of what she had done, but she hadn't come around to apologizing. Right now, she was on her laptop, trying to get her new Worgen to level eighty-six. She was holed up in her lamborghini reventon. It was the beeping of her HTC wildfire that brought her back to the present. It didn't take her long to close out of the game, shut her laptop, slide it into its leather casing, and get out of the car with keys in hand. Making sure she had everything she needed, she locked her car and slid her phone into her back pocket, walking quickly to the auditorium, where she was to meet Dexter. Briefly, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. In an attempt to tamp them down, she thought about the goriest slasher movies ever. She paused at the entrance of the auditorium, hearing music playing from within. She bit her lip and listened for a few moments before walking in slowly, trying to be as silent as possible. Once inside, she began singing along quietly with him. When it had presumably ended, she clapped. It wasn't sarcastic in the least, really. "Bravo!" She called out with a wide smile that lit up her pale gaze. It soon faltered and fell as she recalled the appearance she was supposed to keep. Clearing her throat, she regained her composure and looked at the ground. "I mean..um..well done." She said almost inaudibly, her cheeks beginning to flush. "So..uh..what now?" She queried stupidly, shuffling her feet and adjusting the laptop case within her arms. What would she do if he were to discover she played WoW? Talk about embarrassing! Almost as if to bite her in the ass, she had the shocking realization that she had forgotten to hide the files or even delete all visible evidence of it from her desktop. She'd be fine as long as he didn't feel the sudden urge to glance at her screen, right? Well, that was what she told herself, anyways. Trying to stifle whatever remained of her insecurities, she perched her slender, picturesque frame on the edge of the stage and crossed one leg over the other. Everything about her screamed 'uppity, rich bitch.' If you knew her personally, you'd know she was anything but. Really, she was just full of insecurities, fears, and general mistrust but overall, she was quite a sweetheart. She was just another person, trying to make her father look good. If it weren't for his support team, California would see him for what he really was. A vindictive monster with a vendetta that only cared about getting his dick wet. She was too afraid to make people see the truth about him. Her twin brother, on the other hand, had the balls to do it, but he was the type that would much rather avoid the situation entirely. His brilliant solution had been to move out of state and get a master's degree in business. If she had half the drive he did, she'd probably be happier and not wind up as her father's puppet. If she behaved, he showered her with gifts and love but if she were to act out, her ass would be out on the street, and she'd be cut off from the money. She'd have no other choice but to move back to Baton Rouge with her mother and her stepfather, whom she hadn't seen in years. If nothing else, her father would be proud to know that he had ruined her life and then some.

[flynn]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent; width: 355px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border-bottom: dashed 1px 487781; border-left: dashed 1px 487781; border-top: dashed 1px 487781; border-right: dashed 1px 487781;] what are you waiting for? take a bite of my heart tonight As Dexter finished what he’d converted he heard a loud clapping and a girl shout bravo, his head jerked toward the door – startled. Dex’s wide eyes fell on the pretty blonde. He wasn’t sure why he’d found her sudden appearance so shocking to him, considering he’d been expecting her and all. His cheeks flushed at once, even if she was giving him an enthusiastic complement he still felt quite embarrassed. After all his voice was not Adele’s and he felt he still didn’t have the tune quite right on the guitar. Ky seemed as if she was gathering her composure and drew back her complement as if her first was too kind for the dorky kid people picked on in high school. Dexter liked to give people the benefit of the doubt, but he was almost hoping Kyrie would prove that she was still a horridious bitch so that he wouldn’t have to figure out a way to be pleasant with her. Not that he ever had a problem being cordial and pleasant, but maybe it was just that he was still a bit cheesed that she seemed to be so nice to other people, even if she wasn’t usually outright mean to him he felt that almost made it worse. He almost preferred those who constantly questioned his sexuality due to his extra-curricular activities – as if it were some horrible insult to be called gay every day. However, Dexter didn’t like people constantly implying he was something he wasn’t. Being thrown in dumpsters was even better than not really knowing if someone actually hated you or was just too much of a pansy ass to go against the grain. Either way he wasn’t fond of the way Kyrie conducted herself in high school, no matter how open minded or non-judgmental he was – he simply had no patience for humor at the expense of other’s dignity or respect. He couldn’t help but notice the pink pigmentation building behind the skin of her face. Was she embarrassed for giving a dork a complement or something? Course Dexter’s mind didn’t jump to the very true scenario that she was embarrassed because she felt like a dork for her eccentric outburst. After all how many people used “bravo” in their everyday life? Dexter shifted his guitar around uncomfortably, finally speaking quietly “thank you”. It would be rude not to thank her and Dexter prided himself on never being rude without solid provocation. As she approached him after asking him what to do now, he placed his guitar into the case next to him regretting it the moment he did as he no longer had any emotional shield to protect himself. He shrugged in response to her question “do you have any ideas for what the website should be geared toward? Music sheets for songs? Movies with the most gore?” he threw out a couple off the top of his head ideas as if they were ridiculous suggestions, because he thought they were. Coming up with a unique and new premise for a website would be difficult and most would probably choose ridiculously obvious things. Maybe he could get away with just pretending he didn’t remember her “I’m Dexter by the way, I don’t think we were properly introduced in class” he gave a small wave as he was afraid she’d recoil from a handshake as if he had the plague. He watched as she perched herself on the side of the stage, he shifted uncomfortably before grabbing his own Mac book, which was updated with all the bells and whistles it could possibly carry. People may not have guessed it due to his creative interests, but Dexter was quite well versed in computers and could easily find a job working with them that he would enjoy quite a bit. He played games and developed meaningless software for fun, though he never showed his work to anyone. If one saw the makeup of his computer though, they would know that a boy who has the max amount of ram built into his computer probably spends enough time on there to make it worth it. Dexter stood up from the where he originally perched himself and sat down with a fair about of distance between them. She looked pretty, but she was always pretty, unfortunately it was not enough to make up for the fact that he didn’t like her. Some of his friends it high school would say things like “she can make fun of me all she wants, I’d still do her if I got the chance” about various mean girls around school, but Dex could never wrap his head around that idea, why would you sleep with someone who doesn’t like you. Sex is something that’s special and should be shared with someone you love and maybe that made him a sap, but he believed what he believed none the less. Flipping his Mac book open he powered it up. words; 828 | tagged KYRIE | clothing click notes SOO sorry this took so long, my sister was in town monopolizing my time lol | lyrics credit neon trees [/style]

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[KYRIE BUCHANAN]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true] She just sighed and bit her lower lip, pushing her hair away from her face. "Actually, I was thinking we could do something more...unique." A pause as she lifted the screen of her laptop, revealing the dorky picture of her and her twin that she had chosen for her wallpaper. It had been taken around their twenty-first birthday. She had cake smashed on her face, and he had a glob of ice cream melting on his nose. Of course, both of them were grinning like idiots and sloshing beer around, just because they could. She didn't even pause to focus on the picture as she clicked her track pad twice and pulled up her internet browser. She glanced toward him, ducking behind her hair. "I know singing is a huge part of your life and all. Actually...it's kind of awkward for me to admit this, but I'm sort of..envious that you were able to stay true to yourself and not give a damn what others thought. With my father being who he is, if I do one thing wrong, it'll get splashed all over the news, and there's a chance he could..." She trailed off, her brow beginning to furrow. "Never mind that! Anyways, I thought it'd be cool to mix your singing with the project..so.." She paused, fingers moving rapidly over the dark keys. When she brought up the page she wanted, she glanced toward him. "I haven't started anything, but I did get old programs from high school and a few of the song titles you've either worked on or have been working on in school. My thought was that we could record a few covers with the internal mic and utilize them in the project. I could play backup, if you need it and if you ever want your name out there, I could call a few people and direct them to the site.." She said quietly, pale gaze finally averting. "Your area of expertise would be the music, and mine would probably be the design of the site." Was this how she made up for the past? Helping him to further a singing career while also making a grade? Perhaps, it wasn't the grade that she cared about. "It'd certainly be better than anything YouTube or MySpace could give you." She gave the tiniest small smile. "It was just a thought, though. I mean..if you are interested, I know a photographer that's really good and could make you look like the next John Mayer or Teddy Geiger...I mean..they both started off small and look where they wound up, y'know?" She rubbed the back of her neck and bit her lip gently, looking back toward him. After several moments of silence, she cleared her throat. "Look at it this way..all they had to start off with was an instrument and their voices. I could hook you up with a studio and even get a small production going. It'd generate buzz and those people from school could sho--..." She trailed off, her brow furrowing as she began to flush once more. "Me and my babbling.." She gave a weak laugh. Right, this was going swell. She looked back at her computer screen and scrambled to collect her thoughts and more importantly, to regain the composure that had been lost. "Oh..right..I totally forgot to introduce myself." Shifting, she turned to face him. "I'm Kyrie Buchanan, and my dad's the congressman Buchanan. Most people just call me Ky..it's um..pronounced like Kai..and my twin brother is Russell..he was the quarterback in school..or rather, one of them.." She gave a sheepish grin, returning his wave. It didn't take her long to return her attention to her computer screen and hope he hadn't picked up on her general distaste for the man that had sired her. Wouldn't that be fun? How would she explain it? 'Oh right..when I was almost nine, it was discovered my dad, whom was a congressman in Louisiana, was cheating on my mom with a very slutty secretary that could have been my older sister. He moved here and took over custody of my brother and I to get back at my mother for moving on with her life. My brother doesn't live around here anymore because he was smart and ran the first chance he got!' Prsht, yeah..that'd go over real well.

[flynn]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent; width: 355px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border-bottom: dashed 1px 487781; border-left: dashed 1px 487781; border-top: dashed 1px 487781; border-right: dashed 1px 487781;] what are you waiting for? take a bite of my heart tonight He was going to keep an open mind, he was, he really was – he just needed to keep telling himself that. To be perfectly honest he wasn’t surprised she discarded his ideas as unoriginal and mundane, one, because she likely would have turned down anything thing he said, right? And two, he hadn’t thought much about this project at all; he’d been too busy worrying about finishing his music project before midterms. Giving a small indifferent nod he quickly changed his background from a kitten to one of the Mac preprogramed backgrounds. After all anyone who didn’t know him, would probably make fun of his affinity for kittens and his shameless propensity for surrounding himself with them. It’s not like he had kitten posters on his wall or a kitten folder or anything. However, his room was adorned with a couple pictures of his own cat Jiggles. A Scottish Fold with a particularly fervent precocious streak. Dexter’s brows started and subtlety continued to knit into a highly suspicious shape. The boy was politically deficient and had no idea who her father was for the simple fact that he didn’t know who the mayor was or even who the Governor was now that the terminator was out of office. Therefore the idea that there were congressmen was lost on him. He’d never really known why Kyrie was always considered kind of famous at their school; he just figured it was because most popular people think everyone knows their name. Not to mention she’d just acknowledged she remembered him from high school, he probably wasn’t going to get away with that one. “so why were you such a bitch?” his eyes bugged as he realized he’s actually said that out loud rather than just think it like he thought he was. Clapping his hand over he his mouth he gasped at his unmatchable retardation. “I didn’t mean that” he spat quickly as his cheeks flushed. Never in his life had he ever said anything so stupid to someone before. Figuring it would probably be better to just simply plow forward as if he hadn’t said anything. Maybe she hadn’t even heard it; after all it was more of a mumble than actual formed words. A string of syllables really, he told himself, this time securely tucked away behind his skull and brain matter. “I’m not really following” he said shifting his eyes about avoiding eye contact, his brows had now converted their energy to conveying confusion. He laughed a little too loud as she suggested a photo shoot and furthermore one that would make him look like John Mayor/Teddy Geiger’s runner up. He didn’t care for either musician in all honesty and thought they were glorified hacks. However, he understood the sentiment in what she was saying. Though all he could picture was a shot of him holding his guitar making “bedroom” eyes, like the previously mentioned artists had – which would be lame. Though, the thought of himself trying to look swoon worthy caused an amused smile to grace his face. “I don’t think I have the same teeny bopper appeal” he said finally in his own self-deprecating way. He could never imagine people swooning over him after he spent most of his high school like being treated as if he looked like a run over meatloaf that’d sprouted maggots. He knew he was a good guitar player and though he didn’t think he had an ounce of the talent that Johnny Cash possessed he loved singing and playing. He didn’t feel he was the type that could be marketed on his looks and nor would he want to, to be perfectly honest. Dexter was beginning to feel increasingly more guilty for saying she was a bitch in high school. He hadn’t been so nice to her either, he’d been the one who came up with what his group of friends referred to her as – Bimbo Barbie. Dexter hadn’t meant for it to catch on within the “dork” groups at school, it’d just slipped out in one of his rantings between friends. Besides he wasn’t even sure if she’d ever heard it, but it still made him feel bad every time he did – the guilt ridden mess that he was. However, his annoyance was also building; he didn’t want her to think he was some kind of charity case. She was almost apologetic though, Dex just didn’t know what she seemed to be apologizing for. She obviously remembered his lack of popularity and he wasn’t even the one who got the worst of it. He shrugged “I don’t know… it seems a bit... self-serving?” He didn’t want their teacher to think that he was some pretentious little prick who thought he was totally awesome – because he didn’t and wouldn’t want anyone thinking that. People would think it was his idea and he was just really vain. At the same time he didn’t want to make her feel like he was shooting her idea down as some stupid ridiculous mess of a suggestion or anything. It wasn’t bad, he just didn’t feel he was the right subject for it. Instead he decided to throw in a tweak on her idea to assure her he didn’t think it was a bad one “we could maybe find another local musician maybe? There’s this guy who plays at open mic nights that has kind of a Goyte, Mumford and Sons vibe, he’s pretty cool” he gave two examples that would have been obscure a couple years ago, but were growing in popularity “or we could even just doing a couple people from open mic nights around town, like spotlights or something?” he gave a shrug “Where to find the best free music on Mondays” he added with a small laugh – this was awkward. He was beginning to notice that Ky really did seem to be quite the babbler as she went through her entire family in her own introduction. Dexter took a breath, he needed air and courage to get out what he was about to say “look, I think it’s pretty obvious at this point that we knew of each other in high school, so can we just throw away our preconceived notions of each other and start over – fresh?” he said calmly in the most mature and rational tone he could muster words; 1058 | tagged KYRIE | clothing click notes ah, it's really long I hope it's not because it's babble-y! | lyrics credit neon trees [/style]

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[KYRIE BUCHANAN]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true] She pursed her lips and hid behind her hair. "A lot of what I did..it was... She hesitated and bit down on her lower lip. How did she say this without sounding like a complete retard? "Wrong, I'll admit." She said quietly, pushing her hair away from her face. Of course, that didn't even begin to cut it. She had been far more than wrong in high school. She knew it was wrong and yet, she followed the crowd. What had she feared? She had her father's money to back her up. It wasn't like she needed the popularity. Her father's position in politics made her popular enough. She sighed and chewed on the inside of her cheek. She glanced at the man from the corner of her eye. "My faults back in school were a mixture of peer pressure and the want to please people. Since I moved in with my papa, his politics have demanded that I try to be perfect in every way. If I mess up, even once, they splash it all over the news and attack his 'good' name." She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Russell almost got arrested for beating off one of our...fans...with a stick." She chuckled quietly and chewed on the corner of her thumb. She didn't know how else to go about this. It was all so new to her. She didn't ever think she would have to apologize for something that she had done indirectly. "I actually admired you for staying true to who you were. Cheer leading wasn't me in the least, and I shared your sentiments, only I called them the Band of Bimbos. I mean..they went out of their way to make the lives of others a living hell, just for shits and giggles, y'know?" She sighed and rubbed her temples, trying to clear her head as she leaned back, putting her weight on her hands. She closed her eyes for a few moments. "After I left the squad in my junior year, I became an outcast of sorts, even to my twin brother. He ignored me in school and around his friends, just so he could live a little longer in the limelight. I tried so hard for so long to hide who I really was, what I really enjoyed. I-I..hated it, to be honest." She admitted, beginning to twiddle her thumbs. They all sounded like such..empty excuses, even to her own ears. She stretched and flopped backward, placing her arms behind her head. "My thoughts about you were influenced by...them. Social suicide and all that bogus. I ended up tanking my own social life." She laughed briefly and rubbed her eyes. "Well, if we're set on the music theme, we could make a fan page for Adele" She chirped, glancing toward him. She was trying to make amends in her own way. "She is the hottest thing in pop music, after all.." She mused, rubbing her head as she tried to think. "Actually, I heard she's rising in all of the charts. Her comeback was amazing as I recall. She stole the show." She chuckled quietly and shifted, sitting up as she began to rub her shoulder.

[flynn]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent; width: 355px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border-bottom: dashed 1px 487781; border-left: dashed 1px 487781; border-top: dashed 1px 487781; border-right: dashed 1px 487781;] what are you waiting for? take a bite of my heart tonight Dexter shook his head about to speak as she started explaining herself, but soon realized she was not stopping. No, she was rattling on about her reasons for being the way she was. He was definitely beginning to see that her friends weren’t just being dramatic when they said she was a babbler, she definitely had a habit of verbal diarrhea when she was uncomfortable. At least he assumed she was uncomfortable. When she finally allowed herself air he touched her arm a bit to get her attention and in an attempt to calm her down “hey, hey… water under the bridge okay” he said putting his hands up and waving them as if to demonstrate waving away any pent up hurt feelings. Yes, she was mean in high school, but he really didn’t think he warranted her beating herself up about it so much. He could admit he was an easy target after all. Dex had never been a jock, the only sport he’d ever been good at was bowling and most people didn’t consider that a sport – even though it is! and Dexter would go to his grave defending that fact. Besides that his girlfriend had apparently been sleeping around with the entire school so, you know that didn’t quite help the rumors. He was either gay and gave her permission or he was just the idiot who couldn’t see his girlfriend spread like peanut better. Though it was the latter of the two options, everyone else believed the first. Because you’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to see what was happening, but Dexter was when it came to Natalie in high school he was all of those things. He was pathetic and he thought she loved him, he believed in love and she stole all of that from him. Ripped it from his hands at threw it back in his face with a big fuck you attached. Dex wasn’t bitter though, no, not one bit. He’d never admit that he refused to have another girlfriend because he was afraid of another girl hurting him like that. He was afraid of such blatant rejection. When Dexter loved he loved deeply and that scared him to death. No one should have so much control over another person. No one was worth hurting like that for – No one. “I’m sorry to hear you didn’t have a great senior year, siblings shouldn't treat you like that” Gosh, he hadn’t even noticed, maybe he was an asshole. In fact he didn’t even know that she did her senior year at the same time. How could he have missed that – by being an asshole, it was the only explanation – he was an asshole. She probably wouldn’t like him feeling bad for her, she’d probably get all haughty and pissed that someone like him would feel bad for him. As much as he felt bad for it, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Dexter rolled his eyes “Ugh, I hate how no one seems to understand genres anymore, why is everyone saying Adele is pop? She’s pure perfect soul… a British Aretha Franklin if you will” to be perfectly honest he didn’t understand why there had to be labels on everything especially something as transcendent as music. “Adele just proves that music is universal and it doesn’t matter if something “fits” your genre, if you like something you like it. Simple as that” he finished with a shrug. He wasn’t scolding or chastising Ky in any way he was simply venting his feelings about the subject. words; 620 | tagged KYRIE | clothing click notes sorry about the wait on this one! | lyrics credit neon trees [/style]

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[KYRIE BUCHANAN]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true] Her cheeks flushed a light pink. She looked the part of a child that had done something so wrong that it was borderline inconvenient, but she looked cute enough that it was near impossible to be mad at her. At least, not for long. "I'm sorry, Dexter. Music..it's not my thing..I just thought that it'd be more fun for you if we did something you liked." She squeaked, hands clamping over her mouth as her pale, blue gaze widened, practically popping out of her head. Mentally, she was a lot like a little kid, and she hardly had the guile to lie. She was impressionable as could be and easily manipulated so nine chances out of ten, she was just following the crowd, so to speak. "This is..I mean...I.." She exhaled softly and groaned, minimizing the Internet browser to pull up WoW. The music automatically played, and she was quick to type in her login information before sitting up. She turned the laptop toward him and laughed. "This was my passion in school" She bit her lip, and her eyes slowly became misty, almost as if recalling some far off memory. She shook her head and snapped back to the present. "On here, it doesn't matter who you are or where you come from. You can be anything you want, do anything you want, and go where you please. If you can play the game, you could be the world's biggest loser, and nobody would care." She sighed quietly and ran her fingers through her hair. "So, if you want to do Adele the queen of universal music, I say let's go for it." She gave him the biggest smile she could muster and closed out of WoW, figuring her point had been made, even if it was at the cost of her own little secret. What point was she trying to get across, though? Her stomach churned, and she tried to clear her head but to no avail. "Past is in the past." She murmured, finally wrapping her head around that prospect. She had a vague idea of what people had said behind her back, but she never payed any attention to it, just because she had been taught that two wrongs never made a right. Two rights made a left, though. That had been Russell's brilliant comeback, and it never ceased to bring a smile to her mother's face. Thinking of her mother brought another realm of hurt that she had long since buried, just because she hated dwelling on it in the presence of others. In her own bedroom, certainly. Her entire life had been based around how she could keep the appearance of perfection in the eyes of the public. She had quickly learned the hard way that nobody was perfect, no matter how hard they tried. She had gotten drunk and slept with the very sort of person she had sworn against. After that, her bubble of perfection had popped. It was the catalyst for who she was today. A girl in the body of a woman that still had a crush on Dexter Flynn and played WoW whenever she could. Her mind made a split-second decision and before she knew what she was actually doing, she leaned forward and brushed her lips along his. Just as it happened, for the second or third time that night, her eyes widened. With cheeks dark red, she stumbled back with a loud curse and fell from the stage with a yelp. "I'm so sorry!" She squeaked, sitting up and rubbing her head, which had the misfortune of becoming intimate with the floor. What in the hell had she been thinking?