Was this what parties were like? Serena had never been to one before. She was hesitant to call the church events her parents made her go to as parties, because they were always packed full of middle-aged white people who wore shirts with text like "How Sweet it is to Trust in Christ" or "Faith Over Fear" or some other hokey crap like that plastered on it.
As far as she could see, there were no middle-aged people here. No one was wearing a Virginity Rocks! shirt or a stuffy button down blouse. No one was politely declining Mrs. Palmer's overly-sweet cookies before having one forced upon them anyway. It was loud, it was energetic, and it was one of the most awkward places Serena had ever been to.
She knew people here, yeah, but they were like, acquaintances of acquaintances of acquaintances. Coincidentally, that was how she'd gotten her invitation here: someone whose face she barely recognized handed her an invitation that gave her a time, date, and address. She wondered if it was a scam at first before she heard others talking about it and decided to go. It wasn't the kind of thing she would've normally gone to, but what the hell, right? It wasn't often that she was invited to anything other than a church function, and a non-negligible amount of FOMO propelled her to make the 15 minute drive to so-and-so's house.
Man, at this point she almost wished she let the FOMO just gnaw away at her brain. She had no one to talk to, the EDM which she had initially enjoyed was beginning to wear on her, and worst of all, she didn't even have one drink. The whole table stacked with red solo cups was now totally empty. It also, helpfully, doubled as Serena's perch, upon which she sat cross-legged as she mindlessly scrolled through her phone with her right hand as she fiddled with the straps of her sandals with the other. She had, like, seven-eighths of a mind to leave, but the last lousy eighth was still infested with the FOMO rats that kept telling her stuff like "No, don't go, what if it gets good after another two hours?" or "You know you'll look lame if you go before the party's officially over, right?"
And so she stayed. She put her phone down absentmindedly scanned her eyes across the room, looking at everything but seeing nothing. Serena made up her mind right then: if nothing of interest was going to happen within the next five minutes, then she was gonna pack it up and go home. No point in staying if she wasn't having fun anymore, right?
Vamô Detonar essa Porra!
private? (~Sep 2023)
“Look I’m telling you, the new of Texas Chainsaw Massacre wasn’t that bad.” Jasmine was strolling through the party, the consistent, high-speed, wub wub wub of the EDM blaring through the house her backing track, while her form was outlined by the sweet smelling haze of partygoer vape smoke. In one hand she held the classic party compulsory red solo cup, while in the other she had a bottle of Absolut vanilla. “The part where he kills all the influencers on the bus was so funny.” There was a brief pause in her stream of consciousness as she took a gulp of the vodka and coke she’d mixed together, the actual split of the soft drink compared to the alcohol lost to the haze a few mixes prior. “It’s a good time, although the end with the electric car is goofy. I mean I was laughing at it, but I don’t think that was the point.”
In truth the party had been somewhat of a bust, she hadn’t caught sight of anyone she considered attractive enough to make The Eyes at. Meanwhile her outfit, which she loved and thought was cute with its black and white letterman jacket and leather miniskirt, hadn’t brought anyone to her directly. Saffron had described it as looking like a goth hooker, which Jasmine put down to her platform boots, but she loved her boots, so she’d ignored Saffron’s comments and made her way out. Plus they made her hit a solid six foot in height, which she found extremely enjoyable. Matias also hadn’t seemed to have had much luck, so they’d both given up and gone to find Harry, which had naturally escalated to wanting more alcohol to commiserate over. So they’d forced their way through the relentless tide of bodies that were flowing through every part of the house, laughing, shouting, singing and gossiping to reach the dining room where all the drinks were supposed to be. The journey, fraught as it was with trying to avoid being dragged into any drama had allowed Jasmine to expound on her views of the latest Texas Chainsaw reboot to her captive audience of band mates.
But upon reaching the dining room, instead of finding a collection of bottles sitting on the table in the middle of an army of red solo cups eagerly awaiting deployment, they instead found a girl.
“Oh great,” Jasmine deadpanned, throwing her alcohol filled hands up at the table. “Some assholes have taken all the drinks.” As she stepped closer to the table whose sole occupant had become a girl scrolling on her phone, she turned to her band mates. “Matias? Was it you?”
Then she whipped her head around to face the girl, and leant her elbows on the table.
“Hey! How’re you finding this party?”
In truth the party had been somewhat of a bust, she hadn’t caught sight of anyone she considered attractive enough to make The Eyes at. Meanwhile her outfit, which she loved and thought was cute with its black and white letterman jacket and leather miniskirt, hadn’t brought anyone to her directly. Saffron had described it as looking like a goth hooker, which Jasmine put down to her platform boots, but she loved her boots, so she’d ignored Saffron’s comments and made her way out. Plus they made her hit a solid six foot in height, which she found extremely enjoyable. Matias also hadn’t seemed to have had much luck, so they’d both given up and gone to find Harry, which had naturally escalated to wanting more alcohol to commiserate over. So they’d forced their way through the relentless tide of bodies that were flowing through every part of the house, laughing, shouting, singing and gossiping to reach the dining room where all the drinks were supposed to be. The journey, fraught as it was with trying to avoid being dragged into any drama had allowed Jasmine to expound on her views of the latest Texas Chainsaw reboot to her captive audience of band mates.
But upon reaching the dining room, instead of finding a collection of bottles sitting on the table in the middle of an army of red solo cups eagerly awaiting deployment, they instead found a girl.
“Oh great,” Jasmine deadpanned, throwing her alcohol filled hands up at the table. “Some assholes have taken all the drinks.” As she stepped closer to the table whose sole occupant had become a girl scrolling on her phone, she turned to her band mates. “Matias? Was it you?”
Then she whipped her head around to face the girl, and leant her elbows on the table.
“Hey! How’re you finding this party?”
This was not his scene. Harry Tsai had no objection to big parties, in concept. What kind of rock star didn't like partying, right? He did, however, object to partying with his classmates. Here were a bunch of loud, idiotic teenagers crammed together like sardines in a suburban house, blowing out vape clouds and awkwardly trying to flirt while some atrocious EDM blared loud enough to crack their skulls open. No, this was not Harry's preferred way to spend a Saturday night. But Jasmine and Matias had insisted. And any free alcohol was better than no alcohol- even the shittiest, cheapest American beer. He had gone through two cans of the stuff before Jasmine and Matias had helpfully offered to lead him to more.
Harry dressed simply, by his standards. He had no one to impress, after all. He wore his Guitar Wolf shirt - black with a red lightning bolt in the middle, tight gray jeans, and silver wristbands. His hair was tied in a ponytail. He'd tried out a few shades over the past year, but he was satisfied with what he'd landed on: bright red. Similar to the color Hide wore in the 90s. Harry noticed a few looks directed his way as they pushed through the crowds. Looks of confusion, looks of surprise, looks of... appraisal. Harry avoided eye contact with them. They weren't his concern. His only concerns right now were finding more drinks, and trying to hear Jasmine's ramblings over the music.
Jasmine was a skilled bassist with decent taste in music and a love for horror which, while not matching his own tastes, was genuine. She was his bandmate. She was also friendlier and easier to talk to than Matias. Purely by default, this meant Jasmine was Harry Tsai's best friend in America. This was a truth that Harry had only recently come to terms with. And he would never, ever, ever, ever, say it out loud. This friend of his was now try to convince him to watch a Netflix reboot of a horror series that should have died in the 70s.
"I don't believe you." Harry said dryly, probably too quiet to hear over the music. Harry could appreciate an American slasher movie, if it had real artistry in it. He'd liked the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. But Harry could not, under any circumstances, trust Jasmine's taste in slashers. She genuinely thought the Friday the 13th movies were good.
And of course, their journey resulted only in disappointment. No drinks, only some girl sitting and looking at her phone. The girl looked vaguely familiar to him, but that's how Harry saw most of his classmates. No one important. So as Jasmine decided to start chatting her up, Harry leaned back against the wall with a sigh and a frown. This party sucked.
Harry dressed simply, by his standards. He had no one to impress, after all. He wore his Guitar Wolf shirt - black with a red lightning bolt in the middle, tight gray jeans, and silver wristbands. His hair was tied in a ponytail. He'd tried out a few shades over the past year, but he was satisfied with what he'd landed on: bright red. Similar to the color Hide wore in the 90s. Harry noticed a few looks directed his way as they pushed through the crowds. Looks of confusion, looks of surprise, looks of... appraisal. Harry avoided eye contact with them. They weren't his concern. His only concerns right now were finding more drinks, and trying to hear Jasmine's ramblings over the music.
Jasmine was a skilled bassist with decent taste in music and a love for horror which, while not matching his own tastes, was genuine. She was his bandmate. She was also friendlier and easier to talk to than Matias. Purely by default, this meant Jasmine was Harry Tsai's best friend in America. This was a truth that Harry had only recently come to terms with. And he would never, ever, ever, ever, say it out loud. This friend of his was now try to convince him to watch a Netflix reboot of a horror series that should have died in the 70s.
"I don't believe you." Harry said dryly, probably too quiet to hear over the music. Harry could appreciate an American slasher movie, if it had real artistry in it. He'd liked the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. But Harry could not, under any circumstances, trust Jasmine's taste in slashers. She genuinely thought the Friday the 13th movies were good.
And of course, their journey resulted only in disappointment. No drinks, only some girl sitting and looking at her phone. The girl looked vaguely familiar to him, but that's how Harry saw most of his classmates. No one important. So as Jasmine decided to start chatting her up, Harry leaned back against the wall with a sigh and a frown. This party sucked.
"The fuck you mean is it me? I've barely touched a single drink," Matias almost slurred to Jasmine, smirking at her before throwing his head back and gulping down his fourth drink of the night.
Any party was his scene, for the most part. Any of these nights was a good distraction from school and work, really, but some nights were worse distractions than others. The overlap at this party between guys he was attracted to and guys attracted to him was non-existent, the conversations he'd had just barely having more charm and personality than an AI could generate, just duds all around, so, the night had been reduced to idly staring into an empty cup of what had once been vodka, talking shit with Jasmine and Harry about Netflix schlock.
The chill of the night cut through to him pretty easily, even through the warmth of the alcohol and the heat of his fellow youth dancing and crowding each other. He had on a plain black muscle shirt, sleeve holes raggedly cut down to the bottom of his ribs, along with ripped black jeans. He hadn't been to the barber's in a bit, so strands of hair partially, haphazardly obscured his eyes, though not enough that he couldn't see the petite girl taking up the entire drinks table.
He rolled his eyes at first at being dragged into yet another pointless conversation, though he was thankful for the reprieve from having to listen to Jasmine's opinions on things. And then, his wandering, wavy vision focused on the girl, and, he recognized her from somewhere, from... it was a choir performance he'd had to listen to during one of their flag assemblies. Her voice or, he thought it was her voice at least, kinda poked through but in a nice, clear way. She was on the very edge of the choir, he remembered.
So, like, some background on this whole thing was that he, Jasmine, and Harry made up this band called Lovesick Dead, and they'd more or less figured out a sound for themselves and shit, but, it turned out no one, not even the smallest bar or house party, was really interested in rock instrumentals these days? None of them could sing for shit too, not even the shout-sing-talking that emo bands were so fond of here in Minnesota. So like, with just melodies and no lyrics, no one was taking them up for gigs or anything, so they were only really a band in theory.
Matias had been telling Jasmine and Harry that they needed a singer, but none of them knew anyone fit for the job. They didn't really hang in the same circles the choir kids did, and even the ones they tangentially knew were more into pop or country than, like, the coarse, edgy sound they were trying to go for.
So, to find a singer, any singer, hanging in the same seedy, shitty house party as the rest of them, it was a minor miracle.
As steady as he could manage (not much), he approached Jasmine and Serena, stopping just behind Jasmine. Established his presence, but no words yet. He decided to let Jasmine take hold of the conversation first.
He looked at the wall of the room behind the table and his eyes found Harry. He nodded at him, though he wasn't even sure what, specifically, he was trying to signal to him, just that he was trying to do a thing, and that he should join in on the thing.
It was time for them to make a friend.
Any party was his scene, for the most part. Any of these nights was a good distraction from school and work, really, but some nights were worse distractions than others. The overlap at this party between guys he was attracted to and guys attracted to him was non-existent, the conversations he'd had just barely having more charm and personality than an AI could generate, just duds all around, so, the night had been reduced to idly staring into an empty cup of what had once been vodka, talking shit with Jasmine and Harry about Netflix schlock.
The chill of the night cut through to him pretty easily, even through the warmth of the alcohol and the heat of his fellow youth dancing and crowding each other. He had on a plain black muscle shirt, sleeve holes raggedly cut down to the bottom of his ribs, along with ripped black jeans. He hadn't been to the barber's in a bit, so strands of hair partially, haphazardly obscured his eyes, though not enough that he couldn't see the petite girl taking up the entire drinks table.
He rolled his eyes at first at being dragged into yet another pointless conversation, though he was thankful for the reprieve from having to listen to Jasmine's opinions on things. And then, his wandering, wavy vision focused on the girl, and, he recognized her from somewhere, from... it was a choir performance he'd had to listen to during one of their flag assemblies. Her voice or, he thought it was her voice at least, kinda poked through but in a nice, clear way. She was on the very edge of the choir, he remembered.
So, like, some background on this whole thing was that he, Jasmine, and Harry made up this band called Lovesick Dead, and they'd more or less figured out a sound for themselves and shit, but, it turned out no one, not even the smallest bar or house party, was really interested in rock instrumentals these days? None of them could sing for shit too, not even the shout-sing-talking that emo bands were so fond of here in Minnesota. So like, with just melodies and no lyrics, no one was taking them up for gigs or anything, so they were only really a band in theory.
Matias had been telling Jasmine and Harry that they needed a singer, but none of them knew anyone fit for the job. They didn't really hang in the same circles the choir kids did, and even the ones they tangentially knew were more into pop or country than, like, the coarse, edgy sound they were trying to go for.
So, to find a singer, any singer, hanging in the same seedy, shitty house party as the rest of them, it was a minor miracle.
As steady as he could manage (not much), he approached Jasmine and Serena, stopping just behind Jasmine. Established his presence, but no words yet. He decided to let Jasmine take hold of the conversation first.
He looked at the wall of the room behind the table and his eyes found Harry. He nodded at him, though he wasn't even sure what, specifically, he was trying to signal to him, just that he was trying to do a thing, and that he should join in on the thing.
It was time for them to make a friend.
SC3:
Matias Juarez is fed up. He is currently walking home.
Pregame: now that you are broken by the seas, in the depths of the waters,
Memories: Vamô Detonar essa Porra!
Diego Larrosa is lost. pls give my kids friends tv3 version
Stephanie's Cuckaneers Today at 12:29 AM
maraoone was a mistake - cicada 2021
Matias Juarez is fed up. He is currently walking home.
Pregame: now that you are broken by the seas, in the depths of the waters,
Memories: Vamô Detonar essa Porra!
Diego Larrosa is lost. pls give my kids friends tv3 version
Stephanie's Cuckaneers Today at 12:29 AM
maraoone was a mistake - cicada 2021
Honestly? Serena didn't know what she expected. She saw the trio enter the room, she saw the trio approach the table, but for some reason she just didn't think they would actually attempt to interact with her. For the first time this entire night, people actually sought her out and wanted to speak with her. She could practically feel the FOMO section of her brain jumping for joy, screaming "I told you!" at the non-believing and heretical parts of her brain which opposed it.
When the girl, Jasmine, leaned over towards Serena and asked her a question, it took Serena a few moments to respond. It wasn't because it was a particularly difficult question or anything, it was because Serena noticed her eyes steadily trailing down towards Jasmine's tight shirt and desperately tried to look anywhere else. They eventually settled on Jasmine's giant boots, though she was unable to prevent the flow of blood that tinted her cheeks red. Hopefully she could just pass it off as being slightly tipsy or something.
"Uh, the, uh, the party's been fine, yeah," Serena stammered out. "Uh, how has it been, uh, for you guys?" she asked in response, her eyes still unnaturally fixated on those boots. She could only hope for some small mercy to save her from further interaction. Maybe they were too plastered to notice that she was currently losing the battle to keep the blush on her cheeks from growing ever larger.
When the girl, Jasmine, leaned over towards Serena and asked her a question, it took Serena a few moments to respond. It wasn't because it was a particularly difficult question or anything, it was because Serena noticed her eyes steadily trailing down towards Jasmine's tight shirt and desperately tried to look anywhere else. They eventually settled on Jasmine's giant boots, though she was unable to prevent the flow of blood that tinted her cheeks red. Hopefully she could just pass it off as being slightly tipsy or something.
"Uh, the, uh, the party's been fine, yeah," Serena stammered out. "Uh, how has it been, uh, for you guys?" she asked in response, her eyes still unnaturally fixated on those boots. She could only hope for some small mercy to save her from further interaction. Maybe they were too plastered to notice that she was currently losing the battle to keep the blush on her cheeks from growing ever larger.
Would you look at that, The Eyes had made an appearance after all, but they were being made at Jasmine, not by her. It was an unexpected opening to the interaction with this unknown girl, but not an unpleasant one. Jasmine put a lot of effort into how she looked, and getting attention from people for it was always appreciated. She smiled to herself as the girls eyes ran down her body before stopping at her chunky platform boots, which she studiously stared at. It was yet more evidence that the boots were great and that Saffron could suck it. But also that the conversation she was about to have out of boredom had the potential to be more interesting than she initially thought. As the girl answered her question, Jasmine's smile turned more mischievous and she leaned further forward on the table, putting more of her upper body onto the wood. As she did so she raised one of her booted feet onto its toes and playfully swiveled it left and right, creating a small squeak as the leather rubbed against the kitchen floor.
Whoever the girl was, she seemed inadequately prepared for the realities of a party. Everything about her screamed introverted newbie who was unsure of what exactly she was supposed to be doing. The giveaway was that they had found her sitting alone scrolling on her phone, and the moment a cute girl—Jasmine considered herself as such—started talking to her she instantly became a stuttering mess. But luckily for the unknown girl, when that reaction was combined with the button nose and the curls it ended up being a very cute presentation overall. So Jasmine let her off when it came to the stammering, awkward response.
"Yeah," Jasmine replied, looking back at the room she, Harry and Matias had come from with a small sigh. "It's been fine I guess." If she was being honest, it was unnecessary dramatics, but Jasmine also considered it part of the fun. She turned her focus back to the other girl's face and her small green eyes that sat above reddening cheeks. "But I'm hoping something a bit more interesting happens soon." She let her voice become breathy as she said interesting. It was an old trick she had learned from an ex, add a little bit of emphasis to a certain word and let the other person's brain fill in the blanks. It was all in the implication.
Jasmine took another sip of her vodka coke before proffering the cup to the girl.
"You like my boots?" She asked, kicking a heel up into the air.
Whoever the girl was, she seemed inadequately prepared for the realities of a party. Everything about her screamed introverted newbie who was unsure of what exactly she was supposed to be doing. The giveaway was that they had found her sitting alone scrolling on her phone, and the moment a cute girl—Jasmine considered herself as such—started talking to her she instantly became a stuttering mess. But luckily for the unknown girl, when that reaction was combined with the button nose and the curls it ended up being a very cute presentation overall. So Jasmine let her off when it came to the stammering, awkward response.
"Yeah," Jasmine replied, looking back at the room she, Harry and Matias had come from with a small sigh. "It's been fine I guess." If she was being honest, it was unnecessary dramatics, but Jasmine also considered it part of the fun. She turned her focus back to the other girl's face and her small green eyes that sat above reddening cheeks. "But I'm hoping something a bit more interesting happens soon." She let her voice become breathy as she said interesting. It was an old trick she had learned from an ex, add a little bit of emphasis to a certain word and let the other person's brain fill in the blanks. It was all in the implication.
Jasmine took another sip of her vodka coke before proffering the cup to the girl.
"You like my boots?" She asked, kicking a heel up into the air.
At this point, Serena realized that what Jasmine was doing was entirely intentional. The leaning on the table, the breathy words, the offering of the drink, all of those actions were fully conscious on Jasmine's part. She guessed that the group wasn't nearly as wasted as she thought they were. The realization that Jasmine was coming on to her made Serena's blush go from noticeable to impossible-to-miss. She was in shock; there was no way that—
Wait.
Someone was making advances on her. Another girl was—
Oh. Ohhhhhh no. No. No no no no no no.
In her moment of anxiety and awkwardness when the group approached her, she'd let her guard slip. Even if Jasmine (somehow) didn't know, she was making a guess that was right on the money. Her defenses cracked, and the accursed sappers known as hormones managed to smuggle the secret intel out. The flustered embarrassment and the underlying receptiveness was replaced almost in an instant with stony dread.
It was then that Jasmine brought up the boots. The boots. The boots! Just keep her focused on the boots. That was the only lifejacket she could think of in this moment, the only thing that could maybe make her forget what just happened.
"Yeah, the uh, the b-boots, are uh, the boots are great. They... really, um, accentuate your... uh, height. Y-Yeah."
Getting through that sentence was felt akin to pulling teeth, but Serena had to do it. At the end of the sentence, she also gently pushed away the drink, hopefully sending Jasmine the (decidedly false) message that the interest was unrequited.
Wait.
Someone was making advances on her. Another girl was—
Oh. Ohhhhhh no. No. No no no no no no.
In her moment of anxiety and awkwardness when the group approached her, she'd let her guard slip. Even if Jasmine (somehow) didn't know, she was making a guess that was right on the money. Her defenses cracked, and the accursed sappers known as hormones managed to smuggle the secret intel out. The flustered embarrassment and the underlying receptiveness was replaced almost in an instant with stony dread.
It was then that Jasmine brought up the boots. The boots. The boots! Just keep her focused on the boots. That was the only lifejacket she could think of in this moment, the only thing that could maybe make her forget what just happened.
"Yeah, the uh, the b-boots, are uh, the boots are great. They... really, um, accentuate your... uh, height. Y-Yeah."
Getting through that sentence was felt akin to pulling teeth, but Serena had to do it. At the end of the sentence, she also gently pushed away the drink, hopefully sending Jasmine the (decidedly false) message that the interest was unrequited.
As Jasmine spoke, the other girls face began to glow like a warning light, radiating a luminous red, a freshly lit fire of burning blush. It was fun to be wanted, to incite a rush in someone else through your presence, even if Jasmine wasn’t sure she reciprocated the want at that moment. But she did feel a small tug, a thin thread pulling against her own chest, it had been dulled by the alcohol she had already consumed throughout the evening but the ember of excitement had been lit.
She smiled as the girl began to respond to her question about the boots, her foot still hung in the air, playfully bouncing up and down. Jasmine had forgotten how much fun the attention could be, knowing that someone’s imagination was focused on you and you alone, that the very idea of you had cleared their mind of all other necessary information and knowledge, like how to form a sentence or speak at all.
That was what made the gentle push away of her offered drink all the more disappointing. The thread snagged and Jasmine’s smile twitched and threatened to tumble from her face, but she reset herself quickly, following the movement of the push to bring the cup back and raise it to her lips. However, she couldn’t prevent her eyes darting awkwardly to the side for a brief moment, as she took a gulp that was probably larger than necessary.
“Thank you!” She replied brightly when the cup lowered, along with her leg. “That’s why I wear them.” Jasmine stood back up from her position on the table and turned one leg so she could show off the side profile of the boots for a moment, and also wipe off some alcohol that must have dripped onto them during evening.
“Anyway,” She continued, brushing some hair that had fallen across her neck back over her shoulder. “What’s your name and what brings you here?” Jasmine asked, gazing at the girl from over the lip of the cup.
She smiled as the girl began to respond to her question about the boots, her foot still hung in the air, playfully bouncing up and down. Jasmine had forgotten how much fun the attention could be, knowing that someone’s imagination was focused on you and you alone, that the very idea of you had cleared their mind of all other necessary information and knowledge, like how to form a sentence or speak at all.
That was what made the gentle push away of her offered drink all the more disappointing. The thread snagged and Jasmine’s smile twitched and threatened to tumble from her face, but she reset herself quickly, following the movement of the push to bring the cup back and raise it to her lips. However, she couldn’t prevent her eyes darting awkwardly to the side for a brief moment, as she took a gulp that was probably larger than necessary.
“Thank you!” She replied brightly when the cup lowered, along with her leg. “That’s why I wear them.” Jasmine stood back up from her position on the table and turned one leg so she could show off the side profile of the boots for a moment, and also wipe off some alcohol that must have dripped onto them during evening.
“Anyway,” She continued, brushing some hair that had fallen across her neck back over her shoulder. “What’s your name and what brings you here?” Jasmine asked, gazing at the girl from over the lip of the cup.
Serena saw the flirtatious smile falter when she rejected the drink, and she almost let out a huge sigh of relief. It seemed as though Jasmine got the message after all and was backing down. The crisis, at least for now, had been averted; Serena’s brain could now go down to DEFCON 3.
Still, though, there was a sense of disappointment that welled up beneath the heaps of relief. It was… it was an indescribable sensation to Serena, to be the center of someone’s non-platonic affection. She had certainly never been anything of the sort with Olivia, no matter how much she didn’t want that to be the case. By rejecting Jasmine, Serena felt like she was letting an opportunity that wouldn’t come again for a long while slip her by. Like she was missing out on something she couldn’t get otherwise. A sense of bitterness welled up in her throat. If only she could. Maybe… maybe at a later date. Maybe Jasmine would still show some kind of interest then. Maybe…
It was then that Jasmine asked Serena her name and why she was here, and she had to repress an amused bark at the fact that she almost got propositioned by someone who didn’t even know her name. As for why she was here? It was a fair question. Serena wasn’t quite sure if she could answer it herself.
“I’m, uh, I’m Serena. I’m here because of uh. Well, um… I was invited, hehe.”
That really was the best reason that she could come up with. It was hard to describe an impulse using rational thinking and logic. Besides, she had already shown off her awkward and flustered side; they’d probably just chalk it up to that.
“I know you three: Jasmine, Harry, Matias,” she stated plainly, lacking her usual stammering. She gestured towards each of them when she said their names to prove she got her facts right before slowly unfolding from her criss-cross position. Serena pulled her right knee up to her chest and allowed her left leg to dangle loosely over the table.
“O-Out of everyone here, why talk to me?”
Still, though, there was a sense of disappointment that welled up beneath the heaps of relief. It was… it was an indescribable sensation to Serena, to be the center of someone’s non-platonic affection. She had certainly never been anything of the sort with Olivia, no matter how much she didn’t want that to be the case. By rejecting Jasmine, Serena felt like she was letting an opportunity that wouldn’t come again for a long while slip her by. Like she was missing out on something she couldn’t get otherwise. A sense of bitterness welled up in her throat. If only she could. Maybe… maybe at a later date. Maybe Jasmine would still show some kind of interest then. Maybe…
It was then that Jasmine asked Serena her name and why she was here, and she had to repress an amused bark at the fact that she almost got propositioned by someone who didn’t even know her name. As for why she was here? It was a fair question. Serena wasn’t quite sure if she could answer it herself.
“I’m, uh, I’m Serena. I’m here because of uh. Well, um… I was invited, hehe.”
That really was the best reason that she could come up with. It was hard to describe an impulse using rational thinking and logic. Besides, she had already shown off her awkward and flustered side; they’d probably just chalk it up to that.
“I know you three: Jasmine, Harry, Matias,” she stated plainly, lacking her usual stammering. She gestured towards each of them when she said their names to prove she got her facts right before slowly unfolding from her criss-cross position. Serena pulled her right knee up to her chest and allowed her left leg to dangle loosely over the table.
“O-Out of everyone here, why talk to me?”
"You sing well, that's why," Matias said, stepping out from behind Jasmine, trying but failing to hide the amused smirk on his face.
It was time to enter the conversation, course-correct a bit. The previous dialogue had been fun to watch, yeah, gave him about the same thrill he got watching a video of a 12-foot-tall truck trying to go under an 11'8" bridge: the knowledge that the situation was playing out badly, but the partial desire for it to go as wrong as possible, cause as much of a mess as possible, too. Trying to seduce Serena was a bold move on Jasmine's part too, Matias thought, until he remembered that he was the only one in on his plan to recruit Serena, and that Jasmine was doing it just to fuck with Serena, which is why, like, he needed to set things right, make things a bit friendlier for Serena, set all of them on the same page.
Through the ethanol in his blood addling his brain, he was trying to come up with a good angle: why should this goody-two-shoes who barely even knew them join their band? How could he make this random trio enticing to her?
He maintained a steady gait towards Serena, though his eyes briefly darted around the room, at his friends, as if trying to telepathically ask for help. But, he recovered his confidence, cleared his throat.
"I haven't"—he put a fist over his mouth, gulped down a burp of vodka—"I haven't seen you around these parties before. You're new here. You're dipping your foot in this scene here," he said, turning around, gesturing grandly at the Solo cup-littered dining room they were in, pointedly ignoring the couple smooching in a dimly lit corner in the background. "So like, why not take the full plunge? Why not, uh"—shit what was he trying to say? he snapped his fingers to himself thrice—"we have a band, but we don't have a singer, and uh, we think you sing nice, so, what do you say, eh?"
Nailed it.
It was time to enter the conversation, course-correct a bit. The previous dialogue had been fun to watch, yeah, gave him about the same thrill he got watching a video of a 12-foot-tall truck trying to go under an 11'8" bridge: the knowledge that the situation was playing out badly, but the partial desire for it to go as wrong as possible, cause as much of a mess as possible, too. Trying to seduce Serena was a bold move on Jasmine's part too, Matias thought, until he remembered that he was the only one in on his plan to recruit Serena, and that Jasmine was doing it just to fuck with Serena, which is why, like, he needed to set things right, make things a bit friendlier for Serena, set all of them on the same page.
Through the ethanol in his blood addling his brain, he was trying to come up with a good angle: why should this goody-two-shoes who barely even knew them join their band? How could he make this random trio enticing to her?
He maintained a steady gait towards Serena, though his eyes briefly darted around the room, at his friends, as if trying to telepathically ask for help. But, he recovered his confidence, cleared his throat.
"I haven't"—he put a fist over his mouth, gulped down a burp of vodka—"I haven't seen you around these parties before. You're new here. You're dipping your foot in this scene here," he said, turning around, gesturing grandly at the Solo cup-littered dining room they were in, pointedly ignoring the couple smooching in a dimly lit corner in the background. "So like, why not take the full plunge? Why not, uh"—shit what was he trying to say? he snapped his fingers to himself thrice—"we have a band, but we don't have a singer, and uh, we think you sing nice, so, what do you say, eh?"
Nailed it.
SC3:
Matias Juarez is fed up. He is currently walking home.
Pregame: now that you are broken by the seas, in the depths of the waters,
Memories: Vamô Detonar essa Porra!
Diego Larrosa is lost. pls give my kids friends tv3 version
Stephanie's Cuckaneers Today at 12:29 AM
maraoone was a mistake - cicada 2021
Matias Juarez is fed up. He is currently walking home.
Pregame: now that you are broken by the seas, in the depths of the waters,
Memories: Vamô Detonar essa Porra!
Diego Larrosa is lost. pls give my kids friends tv3 version
Stephanie's Cuckaneers Today at 12:29 AM
maraoone was a mistake - cicada 2021
Harry was really starting to think he'd made a poor decision, accompanying Jasmine and Mattias. He could have been back home, on a call with one of his real friends. Jinlei or Yong Ge would have been open to talk right about now. But no, he'd made his choice. And now he had to stand in this dirty kitchen with nothing to drink and nothing to do except watch Jasmine seduce some innocent young girl. He absentmindedly stared at the display before him.
"Blah blah blah." the girl said meekly.
"Blah blah blah blah" Jasmine replied with her predatory grin.
"Bl-blah blah." the girl stammered. "Blah. Harry. Blah." she said, pointing at each of them.
Then Matias stepped forth and said the word sing.
Harry was forcefully wrenched from his fugue. He locked eyes with Matias for just a second, saw the entreaty in his expression. Then he turned back to the girl. The face wasn't entirely unfamiliar. Discarded memories came back to him. A video of the school choir that Matias had shown them. A voice that stood out among the others. A name that Matias had told him back then, and that he'd just now let drift past him.
A singer.
Harry approached the table and put his hands down with a bang. He loomed over the girl, loose strands hair falling in front of his face. For the first time, he really looked at her. Small, cute, and- he suspected- pliable.
"Se-re-na." he said slowly. Partially, he was just making sure he was pronouncing it correctly. But he was also embedding the name into his mind, connecting it with the face below him. He was making sure he wouldn't forget it again. This girl- Serena- she mattered, now. And if things went their way, he wouldn't be forgetting her name any time soon.
"Do you like rock and roll?"
"Blah blah blah." the girl said meekly.
"Blah blah blah blah" Jasmine replied with her predatory grin.
"Bl-blah blah." the girl stammered. "Blah. Harry. Blah." she said, pointing at each of them.
Then Matias stepped forth and said the word sing.
Harry was forcefully wrenched from his fugue. He locked eyes with Matias for just a second, saw the entreaty in his expression. Then he turned back to the girl. The face wasn't entirely unfamiliar. Discarded memories came back to him. A video of the school choir that Matias had shown them. A voice that stood out among the others. A name that Matias had told him back then, and that he'd just now let drift past him.
A singer.
Harry approached the table and put his hands down with a bang. He loomed over the girl, loose strands hair falling in front of his face. For the first time, he really looked at her. Small, cute, and- he suspected- pliable.
"Se-re-na." he said slowly. Partially, he was just making sure he was pronouncing it correctly. But he was also embedding the name into his mind, connecting it with the face below him. He was making sure he wouldn't forget it again. This girl- Serena- she mattered, now. And if things went their way, he wouldn't be forgetting her name any time soon.
"Do you like rock and roll?"
Wait she could sing?
The reveal, nonchalantly performed by Matias, caught Jasmine by surprise. Firstly, she had no idea who Serena was, she was obviously aware that they had a Serena in their class, but the face and name had never been matched up in her head. Jasmine would have had to play Guess Who? Aurora High edition in order to figure out Serena’s identity independently. Secondly, the fact that Serena could sing had never entered into Jasmine’s blurry, dimming brain. The amount of vodka coke she had consumed was starting to look like it had a negative effect on her thinking.
Then before Jasmine herself could produce any words Harry was on the scene, hands slamming down on the table with enough force to make Jasmine pull her head back in surprise. The vibe had shifted and the drunken train of thought she’d previously had had been lifted from its old tracks and placed onto an entirely new set, destination get a vocalist. Because they did need still need one of them. Sure, she, Harry and Matias were all good players, but singers? A cat being strangled had better note hitting ability.
So if Serena could sing, as both Matias and Harry believed she could, then that changed things. It also meant that Jasmine had been messing around and flirting with their future lead singer purely because she was bored at a party, which had the potential to be awkward. But luckily through the power of vodka coke—which had taken another sip of—that detail was easy enough to push aside.
She stepped forward again, her boots squeaking on the kitchen floor as she leant over Harry’s shoulder.
“Yeah, what are your favourite bands?”
The reveal, nonchalantly performed by Matias, caught Jasmine by surprise. Firstly, she had no idea who Serena was, she was obviously aware that they had a Serena in their class, but the face and name had never been matched up in her head. Jasmine would have had to play Guess Who? Aurora High edition in order to figure out Serena’s identity independently. Secondly, the fact that Serena could sing had never entered into Jasmine’s blurry, dimming brain. The amount of vodka coke she had consumed was starting to look like it had a negative effect on her thinking.
Then before Jasmine herself could produce any words Harry was on the scene, hands slamming down on the table with enough force to make Jasmine pull her head back in surprise. The vibe had shifted and the drunken train of thought she’d previously had had been lifted from its old tracks and placed onto an entirely new set, destination get a vocalist. Because they did need still need one of them. Sure, she, Harry and Matias were all good players, but singers? A cat being strangled had better note hitting ability.
So if Serena could sing, as both Matias and Harry believed she could, then that changed things. It also meant that Jasmine had been messing around and flirting with their future lead singer purely because she was bored at a party, which had the potential to be awkward. But luckily through the power of vodka coke—which had taken another sip of—that detail was easy enough to push aside.
She stepped forward again, her boots squeaking on the kitchen floor as she leant over Harry’s shoulder.
“Yeah, what are your favourite bands?”
"Hold on, you—what?"
All of a sudden, the three of them just began spouting off at her all at once. When Harry unnecessarily slammed his hands on the table, Serena instinctively flinched and scooched backwards until she felt the cold embrace of the wall. They asked her all kinds of questions, and she was still trying to register why exactly Harry was so angry at the table. She put her hands up in front of her as a defense mechanism, her posture indicating that she felt somewhat threatened by the sudden outburst of noise.
"Okay, okay, wait. Stop for just a second, please?" Serena asked. "Can one of you," she followed, slight emphasis on the word one, "please take it from the top? Like, give me a unified pitch or something? For your uh, band? Please?"
Truth was, the thought of actually joining a band and doing rehearsals and (gasp) playing live made Serena's skin crawl with anxiety. Even though she'd been in choir for years, singing for a band felt like an entirely different beast to tackle. Instead of her voice being just a small part in a collective voice, she'd make up the entire band's vocal output. There was a reason why most singers in bands were also their faces; the vocals were easily the most recognizable part of the song and the singers were the most recognizable people in bands. Not to mention, plenty of huge bands survived having a weak instrumental or two—Metallica's Lars Ulrich immediately popped into her head—but how many bands have survived with a weak vocalist? With choir it didn't matter. She could have an off day and the choir would only be slightly worse for wear? But what if she messed up during a rehearsal, or a recording? Serena wasn't entirely sure she wanted all that pressure to come down on top of her all at once.
Of course, there was a little corner of her brain that told her that if she said "no" then these three would dislike her. The thought of multiple people in her class disliking her was almost as, if not more, terrible than the thought of her losing her nerve during a live performance.
Well, there was still a little time before she was forced to make a decision while one of them came up with a pitch. Maybe during that brief period she could try weigh the pros and cons of the whole situation.
All of a sudden, the three of them just began spouting off at her all at once. When Harry unnecessarily slammed his hands on the table, Serena instinctively flinched and scooched backwards until she felt the cold embrace of the wall. They asked her all kinds of questions, and she was still trying to register why exactly Harry was so angry at the table. She put her hands up in front of her as a defense mechanism, her posture indicating that she felt somewhat threatened by the sudden outburst of noise.
"Okay, okay, wait. Stop for just a second, please?" Serena asked. "Can one of you," she followed, slight emphasis on the word one, "please take it from the top? Like, give me a unified pitch or something? For your uh, band? Please?"
Truth was, the thought of actually joining a band and doing rehearsals and (gasp) playing live made Serena's skin crawl with anxiety. Even though she'd been in choir for years, singing for a band felt like an entirely different beast to tackle. Instead of her voice being just a small part in a collective voice, she'd make up the entire band's vocal output. There was a reason why most singers in bands were also their faces; the vocals were easily the most recognizable part of the song and the singers were the most recognizable people in bands. Not to mention, plenty of huge bands survived having a weak instrumental or two—Metallica's Lars Ulrich immediately popped into her head—but how many bands have survived with a weak vocalist? With choir it didn't matter. She could have an off day and the choir would only be slightly worse for wear? But what if she messed up during a rehearsal, or a recording? Serena wasn't entirely sure she wanted all that pressure to come down on top of her all at once.
Of course, there was a little corner of her brain that told her that if she said "no" then these three would dislike her. The thought of multiple people in her class disliking her was almost as, if not more, terrible than the thought of her losing her nerve during a live performance.
Well, there was still a little time before she was forced to make a decision while one of them came up with a pitch. Maybe during that brief period she could try weigh the pros and cons of the whole situation.
Unified pitch. Oh shit. Ohhhh shit.
Just that, like, dunno, he guessed it'd be as easy as 'Hey you wanna join a band?' 'Yeah sure I can join a band,' and then that'd be that, that's how he roped in Jasmine and Harry after all. Might've been at the same house even, he wasn't sure. But now their maybe-singer's out here asking for a whole resume and cover statement? Shit. Shit. Fuck he hated improvising.
He quickly brushed his hair with his hand, fixed his eyes on Serena. Game time.
"Well, uh, we do rock and roll, like Harry said, yeah. I'm the drummer, he's the guitar- he's the- he does guitar, and uh, Jasmine does bass, yeah. We, uh, we have a whole range of styles, like, I like punk and Jasmine is into alt-metal, and, Harry likes J-rock, and..." what it felt like when he had to maintain a train of thought while drunk was that the train was more like a bike, and he was a little kid being taught to bike for the first time, and Dad had just pushed him off and seen him off, and he'd be going fine for the first couple yards and all, but then the bike would start to wobble, and the bike was going so, so fast, and usually the people he hung out with didn't really give a fuck if he had nothing to say because usually you could get by on just vibes, you know? but Serena was asking for more than vibes, she wanted something solid, an outline, a gameplan, and everything all of a sudden felt so wavy, so there was nothing to do but wait to crash to the ground, "and, uh, yeah. We do shit like that. But, like, we don't have a singer. So uh... yeah."
Silence hung thick in the air for a couple seconds.
"Help?" he mouthed to the other two.
Just that, like, dunno, he guessed it'd be as easy as 'Hey you wanna join a band?' 'Yeah sure I can join a band,' and then that'd be that, that's how he roped in Jasmine and Harry after all. Might've been at the same house even, he wasn't sure. But now their maybe-singer's out here asking for a whole resume and cover statement? Shit. Shit. Fuck he hated improvising.
He quickly brushed his hair with his hand, fixed his eyes on Serena. Game time.
"Well, uh, we do rock and roll, like Harry said, yeah. I'm the drummer, he's the guitar- he's the- he does guitar, and uh, Jasmine does bass, yeah. We, uh, we have a whole range of styles, like, I like punk and Jasmine is into alt-metal, and, Harry likes J-rock, and..." what it felt like when he had to maintain a train of thought while drunk was that the train was more like a bike, and he was a little kid being taught to bike for the first time, and Dad had just pushed him off and seen him off, and he'd be going fine for the first couple yards and all, but then the bike would start to wobble, and the bike was going so, so fast, and usually the people he hung out with didn't really give a fuck if he had nothing to say because usually you could get by on just vibes, you know? but Serena was asking for more than vibes, she wanted something solid, an outline, a gameplan, and everything all of a sudden felt so wavy, so there was nothing to do but wait to crash to the ground, "and, uh, yeah. We do shit like that. But, like, we don't have a singer. So uh... yeah."
Silence hung thick in the air for a couple seconds.
"Help?" he mouthed to the other two.
SC3:
Matias Juarez is fed up. He is currently walking home.
Pregame: now that you are broken by the seas, in the depths of the waters,
Memories: Vamô Detonar essa Porra!
Diego Larrosa is lost. pls give my kids friends tv3 version
Stephanie's Cuckaneers Today at 12:29 AM
maraoone was a mistake - cicada 2021
Matias Juarez is fed up. He is currently walking home.
Pregame: now that you are broken by the seas, in the depths of the waters,
Memories: Vamô Detonar essa Porra!
Diego Larrosa is lost. pls give my kids friends tv3 version
Stephanie's Cuckaneers Today at 12:29 AM
maraoone was a mistake - cicada 2021
Matias took point on giving the pitch and Jasmine would have loved to say it went great, hell, she would have accepted it going great until it didn’t. But that would have been an inaccurate description of how it went. In fact saying it went was a generous description. Matias barely started speaking before the words congealed into a mushed up glob and flopped grossly down onto the table with a squelch. Jasmine could stop her face shifting into a look of disgust as she threw a look over to Harry. A look that clearly reflected her feelings of how Matias’ pitch was progressing.
Thankfully Matias himself seemed to also realise that his pitch was going badly and he was in need of saving as he turned to Harry and Jasmine to signal for their assistance. He needed a life preserver in the rough waters he had managed to swim himself into, otherwise the whole pitch they had decided to make to Serena was going down with him.
So Jasmine for reasons that were purely focused towards doing the best thing for the band—and had no selfish bias involved she promised—launched that rescue effort.
“We have a band called Lovesick Dead,” She began, deliberately taking her time to choose her words carefully and making sure her charm was fully on. “Like Matias said, he’s on drums, Harry plays guitar and I’m on bass. We’re kinda running a punk through to metal range and Harry brings in a lot of this style from Japan called Visual Kei?” Jasmine gave an uncertain glance over at Harry as she said the last part. She always forgot if it was pronounced key, kai or kay and had gone with kay. But she decided to forge ahead through the choppy waters regardless of whether her pronunciation was correct or not. “Which kinda gives a gothic flair to the whole thing.” She snuck a quick sip of alcohol in. “And personally I think we’re pretty cool and good, we have a good practice space at my place and the only thing we’re missing is a good singer, because the three of us? We can’t do that shit. We’re garbage at singing, especially those two,” Jasmine lowered her voice to a stage whisper and inclined her head conspiratorially toward Matias and Harry. Then she hit Serena with her final trick, blatant flattery. “And Matias thinks you’re a good singer, and you seem cool, so if you’re interested in being in a band with three other cool people and want to hang out, make music and perform, this would be your best chance.”
Pitch completed, Jasmine down the rest of her drink only to immediately cough and scrunch her face up. “Oh my god that’s so much vodka.” She said as she lifted her arm up to cover her mouth as she continued to cough.
Thankfully Matias himself seemed to also realise that his pitch was going badly and he was in need of saving as he turned to Harry and Jasmine to signal for their assistance. He needed a life preserver in the rough waters he had managed to swim himself into, otherwise the whole pitch they had decided to make to Serena was going down with him.
So Jasmine for reasons that were purely focused towards doing the best thing for the band—and had no selfish bias involved she promised—launched that rescue effort.
“We have a band called Lovesick Dead,” She began, deliberately taking her time to choose her words carefully and making sure her charm was fully on. “Like Matias said, he’s on drums, Harry plays guitar and I’m on bass. We’re kinda running a punk through to metal range and Harry brings in a lot of this style from Japan called Visual Kei?” Jasmine gave an uncertain glance over at Harry as she said the last part. She always forgot if it was pronounced key, kai or kay and had gone with kay. But she decided to forge ahead through the choppy waters regardless of whether her pronunciation was correct or not. “Which kinda gives a gothic flair to the whole thing.” She snuck a quick sip of alcohol in. “And personally I think we’re pretty cool and good, we have a good practice space at my place and the only thing we’re missing is a good singer, because the three of us? We can’t do that shit. We’re garbage at singing, especially those two,” Jasmine lowered her voice to a stage whisper and inclined her head conspiratorially toward Matias and Harry. Then she hit Serena with her final trick, blatant flattery. “And Matias thinks you’re a good singer, and you seem cool, so if you’re interested in being in a band with three other cool people and want to hang out, make music and perform, this would be your best chance.”
Pitch completed, Jasmine down the rest of her drink only to immediately cough and scrunch her face up. “Oh my god that’s so much vodka.” She said as she lifted her arm up to cover her mouth as she continued to cough.