Hello all! I don't know if you know this but the other story that I've been writing is in the works of being planned out. That being said, because I know the date of when that certain story will actually come out, I've decided to publish something else. Now this story has NOTHING to do with my other story. Two completely different categories, two completely different stories. No matter what, I love both of them. After all the 100 is literally amazing so...
WHO CARES?!
Anyways, just a couple of facts to put out for anyone interested in knowing a bit more about the story before just diving in:
- This is rated T because it is following the life of teenagers. That means cursing, adult concepts and actions (not explicit enough for M but things will get heated in later chapters), and lots of crazy parties.
- This is AU (meaning alternate universe) so no Ark in space sending teenagers to die in hopes of saving enough oxygen to help themselves stuff. This story is set in present day so don't expect anything too futuristic.
- A lot of characters on the show are either in high school or parents of a high schooler. That being said, the 100 that I decide to use from the show will be put into a grade I feel is appropriate for the story. The adults on the Ark will be parents or teachers. The Grounders will be a mixture of both.
- The main characters are Clarke, Octavia, and Abby. You'll be following their stories. Bellamy is listed as one of the main characters because Clarke's entire storyline is about him, which makes him pretty important.
- Clarke, Octavia, and Abby's stories are really three separate stories being put together because of similar characters. That means that each story has their own plot line and I gave them their own names as well.
Bellamy Blake Must Die- Clarke's Story
After discovering that Bellamy Blake is a cheating bastard, three girls enlist the help of Clarke Griffin to dish the ultimate payback. Breaking the heart of the playboy by making him fall in love with her. The problem? Wells Jaha, Bellamy's step-brother is falling fast for Clarke and so is Finn Collins, the "good-guy" that also happens to have a loyal and genius girlfriend, Raven Reyes. And more importantly, can Clarke even do this? (Heavily based on John Tuck Must Die).
Across Enemy Lines- Octavia's Story
Octavia Blake needs freedom, who knew that Lincoln could give her that? Of course that's very problematic, considering Lincoln Hamilton is the star player from rivaling team, the Grounders. Bellamy and Lincoln aren't on good terms and neither is Lincoln and Jasper Jordan, a total geek that's been in love with Octavia since he first saw her, or Lincoln and Atom Reed, Octavia's childhood friend who isn't being very friendly with the idea of another man claiming her. Add in some Grounder cheerleaders like Anya, their coach Indra, and a whole other team in general known as the Mountain Men, and Octavia knows she's gonna have some big troubles.
Grownups- Abby's Story
Abby Griffin only wants to be happy, instead she came to Ark County to hide her biggest secret ever. After the recent loss of her ex-fiancé, all she wanted to do was to meet the right guy, not another "Skip" that'll leave her in tears once again. After meeting a handsome and successful doctor, Abby's sure she found the one. Unsure of what to do, Abby seeks the advice of Marcus Kane, the Disciplinary Head of her daughter's school who spews nothing but "the ugly truth". Can Abby keep the guy AND prevent her daughter from discovering her secret? She isn't sure if Clarke would ever forgive if she did. (Loosely based on The Ugly Truth).
Those are all the story summaries. Now time for the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: I don't own The 100, John Tucker Must Die, The Ugly Truth; or the characters, plot devices, and rights from any of these. I'm sure if you read about anything super nice and fancy or something that costs a lot of money, I don't own it either. I'm broke as fuck. (I've decided to make this the permanent disclaimer.)
High School Story: The 100 Epic
Chapter 1: Displaced Again
"I say: The time has come for my courageous and proud people, after decades of displacement and colonial occupation and ceaseless suffering, to live like other peoples of the earth, free in a sovereign and independent homeland."
- Mahmoud Abbas
Ark County: Griffin Residence- California, U.S.A
Sunday, November 2nd, 2014
4:11 P.M.
3rd POV
BELLAMY BLAKE MUST DIE
Clarke Griffin couldn't help but wonder: How has it come to this?
She pulls a top box from over a stack of many, and places it on the new couch her mother had gotten. Clarke opens the box, eyeing all the junk inside. Seeing some gold shine, she reaches in. Clarke pulls out a photo album, originally brown in color, but splattered in gold paint; something that Clarke hadn't meant to do as a child. She opens it, and immediately stares face to face with her father.
Her father.
It takes a few moments before Clarke closes the book. She sets it down gently, a sigh escaping her mouth. Clarke begrudgingly begins unpacking the rest of the box.
How has it come to this?
Clarke knows herself well, and well she's isn't very much of anything. Clarke Griffin is a nobody in the eyes of everyone, except maybe her mother. Clarke had often winced after she first discovered her social status in seventh grade. Now though?
Clarke sees it as the way of the world.
Not saying that Clarke never attempts to make friends or become noticeable. She's tried. Many, many times. All of those attempts though, were epic failures. Defeat, after defeat, Clarke never won anyone over. Except once, but then she had to move here. At the end of the day, Clarke decides just to accept the fact that she is, and always will be, anonymous.
A-N-O-N-I-M-O-U-S.
That's how she had spelt it in the first AND last spelling bee Clarke entered. Was it surprising that the word loser just so happened to be the next term to spell after Clarke had walked the walk of shame?
Probably not.
It's also not very surprising to say Clarke's love life is the equivalent of dog shit, now is it?
Because it shouldn't be.
Clarke has a total of zero kisses, zero dates, and zero boyfriends. The closest she got to a boy being even remotely intimate with her was that one time a cute guy in her algebra class had brushed hands with her. That was, of course, only because the boy had wanted Clarke to pass a love note to the prettier girl in front of her.
That was another totally unfair thing.
Clarke is not pretty.
Or at least, Clarke can't imagine herself as very attractive. Her mother speaks of Clarke's golden hair and her ever-changing eyes, but Clarke knows bullshit when she hears it. If she is so goddamn beautiful, where is her boyfriend? The line of guys just begging to be with her?
Nowhere to be found.
That being said, the truth of the matter is that Clarke's hair is too messy and all over the place constantly, her eyes are dull blue (never had they ever changed color), and Clarke is no where near skinny. Besides these things, Clarke is sure that her features overall, are rather plain. Nothing to be happy over.
Nothing to even consider pretty.
Clarke jumps a little at the sound of the door bell. Her mother and she have yet to finish packing, and Clarke soon became nervous at the idea of a guest. She wipes her hands on her pants, and checks herself in the mirror.
Teeth?
Clean.
Pimples?
None to be seen.
Hair?
Only so much can be done.
Clarke ties her messy waves into a bun as the door bell rings again. She rushes to the door and pulls the knob. As the sunlight filters in, she notices a man in front of her carrying a tray of what appears to be brownies. The man seems to be in his late teens or early twenties, and looks like all he does is surf and smoke weed. The man before Clarke stood in a brown shirt with the words dynamite on it, tan army khakis, black sandals, and a bead necklace as a final touch. His dirty blonde hair is long and reaches to around his shoulders and his muddy brown eyes look down on her.
Clarke's face flushes as she feels him visibly checking her out.
"Hi."
Clarke's face only gets redder as she has no response.
"I live next door... And, uh... My mom sent me over... Something about brownies I think," he says real slow. Clarke is sure he had had something to smoke. She shrugs internally at his unideal personality, only noticing the man's cute face.
Beggars can't be choosers.
"Hi! My name's Clarke. Clarke Griffin," She smiles brightly towards him. "My mom and I just moved here from Pennsylvania..." Clarke blushes in embarrassment at the obvious fact and takes the brownies from the man's hands. Clarke stumbles over her words in an attempt to speak to the boy in front of her.
"I'm sure you already knew that... With the boxes and all. Not that we came from Pennsylvania, I mean, but that we moved here... I mean it's not that surprising." Clarke cringes at her words, and hopes that the boy will not run away from the horror show known as herself. When she looks at him though, she notices his eyes are on something behind her and that he wasn't even paying her any attention.
"Holy jamalama." A disgusted look crosses quickly over her face.
Jamalama? Ew.
Clarke turns to see her mother has entered the room. Her unbelievably beautiful mother. The man takes one good look at the woman, and he's stuck. After only a moment, he snatches the brownies straight from Clarke's hands and walks up to her mom.
"Hi, I'm Justin."
"Hello Justin. I'm Abby, Clarke's mom," Clarke's mother hates it when someone calls her Abagail.
"Um... I made these for you," Justin states, making sure his hands touch hers as he gives Abby the plate.
"Be careful; you're hot, I mean... they're hot," his eyes never leave her body. "So hot..."
Clarke, slightly repulsed, grabs the gold splattered photo album and exits the scene. She runs up to her bedroom and shuts the door softly, making sure she doesn't cause any ruckus. Clarke lays on her king-sized bed, the soft baby blue and white sheets all nice and warm. Clarke has several pillows laying atop her bed, all different shades of light blues and off whites.
Looking around her room, on either side of her bed is a nightstand. One held a radio alarm clock and a light, the other a record player with records underneath the stand. Clarke notices the shelf above her bed. Pictures of her family before her father had died when she was ten, photos of her mother and she all alone in their big family house, photos of the only friend that Clarke has, Thalia. Someone she calls up, even now, when she's alone. Clarke looks down at the photo album beneath her before deciding to put it there along with the other precious memories she carries. To her right is the door that she entered from, a rug in front saying welcome. Paintings line that wall as a desk is placed wonderfully near them. A smaller shelf is above the desk, holding Clarke's school issued books. To her left is the door to Clarke's walk in closet. Besides that door is a large bookshelf, holding all the books Clarke's mother had ever bought her. All the windows in the room have nice white curtains.
Her entire room is icy blue except for the wall Clarke is staring at now. This wall is white, bare, nothing covering it and nothing in front of it besides the built-in bay window painted the brightest shade of white with icy blue cushions, an orphan blue stool, and a white desk with several different kinds of art supplies. This is something Clarke had done purposely.
As of now, Clarke's bedroom is the only room to be completely unpacked.
Clarke rests her head softly on one of her many pillows. She looks up at her room's ceiling. Clarke thinks of some ideas on what to paint the blankness above her. Unlike her one wall, Clarke never planned for the ceiling to just be any old white. Right in the center of the ceiling is a light shaped like a star. Clarke's face brightens as an idea came to her head. She'll be sure to paint it when the time came. Clarke hears a giggle from downstairs and she sighs.
Clarke is sure now, that she knows how it all came to happen.
Her mother never has any troubles getting men, it's getting them to stay with her.
That's the problem.
One after another, all of them breaking her heart. Clarke once kept track of the men who involved themselves with her mother but soon she got tired of it. She started calling them all Skip instead, it's much easier to remember. Clarke recalls how a lot of conversation between these men and herself usually went.
Hi, Clarke! How's it going.
Good... Nice to know you're still here.
What are you talking about?! I'm going to be your new father!
Don't get too far ahead of yourself, Skip.
One man, in particular, the latest sneak AND the biggest bastard of all actually, had something to say to her about it.
My name is Steve. Why do you keep calling me Skip?
Good question. It's because in the end, they all do it. Every single man skips out on her mother while she's sleeping and never comes back. It's happened so many times that Abby has a list of steps on how to get over it.
1) A quick therapy session through chocolate. Maybe four.
2) Spending a lot of time working like crazy.
3) Ridiculous workouts in attempt to lose all the weight she's gained from the chocolate.
4) Packing up the car and heading to another town.
Although in this case, a new state. That's right, Steve Skipperson hurt Clarke's mom so bad that she packed up and moved to a different side of the country. Clarke shuts her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. Thinking about her mother and all the boyfriends she's ever dated does that to Clarke sometimes. Clarke will never understand why her mom does it, date all the douches of the world. She will never get being attracted to an asshole who only uses you, some guy who bangs other girls in cheap motels but then claims 'you're the one'. Clarke will never ever understand wanting a Skip, plain and simple.
"Clarke, please help unpack some of the stuff in the living room with me and our new friend, Justin." Clarke finds herself sighing again.
How unfair life is to her.
Here is the summary for the next chapter:
Across Enemy Lines
Chapter 2: Not Easy
For those thinking that Octavia Blake's life is easy, they're wrong. Absolutely wrong. So wrong, that if they actually knew her, they'd know better.
Thanks for reading.