Lord of the Flies and its corresponding characters do not belong to me.

This was an idea that was floating around for a bit and I eventually gave in and wrote it down. It was supposed to be short, but it ran away from me and become this. It looks like I'll be updating this in conjunction with my other story, Arrows. It's an AU story and although I will try to keep them in character, AUs are about ten times harder for me to write solely because the level of character understanding required goes up about three levels.

Oh, and they're all 18-19 years old in this.


Chapter 1: The Beginning of a Disaster

"Tilt your head up more, yes, right there, good. Hold it." A camera flashes, "Okay. That's a wrap." The blonde male sighs in relief; this might be part of his job, but it didn't mean he had to like it. The touch ups they had to do on him every time between shots was ridiculous; on top of that, the sheer amount of retakes required would make anyone tired of seeing cameras in general. As a result of the hours of holding different poses, his muscles are stiff and stress has wound itself around his joints. The tall teen stretches his arms above his head, sighing in pleasure as he feels his shoulders pop, relieving some of the stiffness gathered there.

"Ralph?" The blonde turns to find his manager standing next to him. Simon has a slight, delicate build; if it weren't for Ralph's first hand experiences with both the other male's mental and physical abilities, he would have sincerely doubted Simon's ability to cope with the stress of handling the complicated schedule. As it is, Simon actually has an even greater capacity for dealing with pressure than Ralph himself possesses. "It seems like you're done for the day. Good work, you look like you could use a massage." Ralph laughs at this, cracking his neck from side to side and following the black haired male down a hallway out of the building.

"I suppose I could. It's hard work being a statue." Simon smiles faintly, turning around to observe his friend. Ralph certainly looks every part of an ideal model; Simon has overheard the teen being compared to a living Greek god statue more than once. And he isn't surprised by the comparisons. The teen's long, slender frame has attracted more than just females since he first appeared on the magazines. Simon has often wondered just what kind of genes Ralph's parents had to produce someone as pretty as the tall teen in front of him.

"Simon?" The male blinks to find pale, sea colored eyes watching him, curiosity lighting the orbs. He shakes his head, waving the other away. They reach Ralph's car and the blonde is about to say goodbye when Simon surprises him with a question.

"Do you want to meet some of my friends?"

Ralph blinks at the strange request; other than Simon and the occasional date, he'd stayed relatively isolated socially from the rest of the celebrities and as a result, didn't know many of them past their names and faces. This is an interesting proposition. Well, it's not like he has anything to do at his place so he agrees to the invitation. Simon nods, sliding into the passenger seat and pulling out his phone, no doubt arranging a meeting place for whoever he was talking about. On the way to the designated spot, Simon's soft voice gives Ralph an idea of what to expect from the people he'll be meeting. All them had apparently attended the same university; Jack (Ralph recognized him as a rather famous singer) and his manager, Roger, went even further back to elementary school. Simon had bumped into Bill and Robert by accident a few months ago and they'd connected him with Maurice, who'd in turn, informed him about Jack and Roger. They had yet to actually meet up again and all were curious to meet Simon's client, Jack had apparently made a dry comment on the press' tendency to exaggerate everything and aggravated Robert. After some high words, they'd made a bet on how much the pictures of Ralph were airbrushed before being published. Ralph listened to the lengthy explanation with a growing apprehension; it looked like their first meeting would be interesting to say the least.

The meeting place is small and nearly invisible, Ralph would have missed the quaint little shop had Simon not pointed it out to him. Upon seeing the baffled look on the blonde's face at the strange choice, Simon explains that its tendency to be overlooked meant that there was less of a chance for large crowds to gather and make conversation between celebrities next to impossible; Ralph nods his understanding and the two slip in. The few patrons who are in the shop for late night drinks and snacks turn and stare at them as they step into the soft lighting inside the shop. Ralph is too busy taking the surroundings to notice Simon's smile of amusement; the smaller male has long found that the blonde was completely oblivious to the stir he caused wherever he went. A pretty waitress shows them to a secluded area of the building; where they find that, apparently, they are the last arrivals. The others have already made themselves comfortable; two are engaged in a heated argument. All of them turn at the same time when they hear the door creak, seeking out the newcomers. A broad shouldered blonde lets out a satisfied whoop, "I win, Jack. Hand it over." The tall redhead leaning elegantly against the wall on the far left snorts, pushing off the structure to maneuver closer to Simon and Ralph, he stops a few feet away from them and circles around Ralph much like a cat might circle a mouse.

"So this is the boy you've been assigned to, Simon?" Simon rolls his eyes, grabbing Ralph's elbow and guiding him to an unoccupied seat before answering.

"Yes Jack. This is Ralph; you can hardly call him 'boy' considering he's your age." The first speaker laughs, quickly disguising it as a coughing fit when Jack turns his icy glare on him.

"Shut up, Robert."

Another dark haired teen leans forward, scrutinizing Ralph's face with dark, flat eyes. The teen squirms uncomfortably under the unsettling stare; he's saved the long term inspection by Simon, who distracts the male with a question about his work with Jack. The others chime in on the conversation, leaving Ralph to try and place names with faces through the different statements directed at each other. He guesses the unsettling male is Roger; the two unnamed males on his left are probably Maurice and Bill. Robert is standing off to the side, teasing Jack about one thing or another; Jack is ignoring him, blue eyes inspecting the blonde stranger. The conversation breaks temporarily when the drinks arrive. It picks up again with a question directed at Ralph who, being caught off guard, didn't answer for a couple seconds. This leads to a barbed comment from Jack which makes Ralph snap back at the redhead. It inevitably ends in an argument between the two of them, with the four other boys as onlookers. Ralph has never met another human being that pushed all his buttons in the all the wrong places so easily; Jack seems to take delight in making him frustrated. Their conversation finally ends with Jack grabbing two motorcycle helmets from the table and dragging a irritated Ralph out of the cafe.

They're gone for a good twenty minutes. When they finally reappear, Ralph looks like a ghost and Jack is laughing his head off. The blonde shoves his companion none too gently; "What the heck was that? I didn't ask for a death wish ride." The redhead only laughs harder, eliciting another shove; when he finally recovers enough to tell what had happened, he's gasping for air.

"You should have seen yourself after I took you out on a spin. I sat out there on the bike for a good five minutes so that you would let go of my waist. Were you that terrified?" Ralph flushes.

"What kind of person takes turns going at sixty miles?" Seeing Maurice open his mouth, Ralph hurriedly adds on, "No, don't answer. I don't want to know." By now, it's nearly one in the morning. Simon stands up to leave using work as an excuse, waving goodbye to his friends and promising that Ralph would be in their next meeting as well. The remaining teens watch the retreating figure of the slim blonde before Roger raises an eyebrow at Jack, an unspoken question hanging in the air. The redhead grins, icy blue eyes fixed on the disappearing silhouette.

"I like him."


So, yeah. I hope that wasn't too bad. I actually sat down and somewhat plotted this one out when I realised it was turning into something longer than I thought it would be, so maybe I won't get stuck so much.