Ashville Academy
~ Good afternoon, lovelies! The last chapter was pretty big, I'd say, we saw what the next twist is going to be. This twist focuses on the Jojo brothers and their past in Willow Cress, and it's here to not only show the importance and the pain of unfaithfulness, but to divulge more into each Jojo brother and showcase their personal characteristics (Brick's honour, Boomer's self-isolation, Butch's pride). I hate to think of how little we've seen Butch recently, which is why I was totally excited to give him a dedicated chapter. I won't give little insights into the chapter like I usually do, because it would be too much a spoiler (this chapter is pretty explosive with all it's secrets and such) so with that..un-said, thank you dropping by to read and I hope you enjoy it! ~
Disclaimer - I do not own the Powerpuff Girls or anything involved with the fandom. I also don't own the song lyrics. All that I own is Daisey McCoy and Chase Alexander Royale.
Here's some review replies!
RBGLove29 - Awww! I'm glad the twist was a shocker. Haha, if you didn't figure it out, you will in this chapter. Thank you so much for the lovely words, you never fail to make me smile!
Gracie - Thank you very, very much! *-*
Nelly - Glad you liked it, Nelly! Thank you for reading and reviewing :)
Jeannette-8o - Oh my Gosh, that's so sad :o I'm glad you didn't agree to be friends with him afterwards, also glad you ended it before he cheated. He sounds like scum! Nevertheless, thank you for reading and reviewing, angel!
PPGXRRB 4EVA - Haha! Thank you so so much! ^_^
Your Guest - This review absolutely made my day, thank you (: I'm glad you liked the interactions - and it's uncanny because Blossom and Brick are my favourite characters too, but my first favourite had been Buttercup, haha. Interesting observations about Boomer and Butch, I hope that the chapter doesn't disappoint. Thank you again for the lovely words :)
Hello - Haha, everyone seems to have different theories about which brother it could be. You'll find out in this chapter (: Aww, that's so sweet, thank you millions! I'm not sure what you mean about me writing stories from the past, but on the Townsville High front, I will be finishing that. I stopped it because I realised that I had made so many mistakes and plot holes that I needed to re-arrange it, as well as simply losing the inspiration to get the two final chapters done. I'm thinking of re-writing the entire thing to fix each plot hole and add the final chapters but I can't say for sure, I definitely will finish it, that's for sure.
cococandy21 - Thank you thank you thank you :)
xX3B.r.o.k.e.n.3Xx - D'awww! Yeah, Buttercup and Boomer aren't on the best of terms right now, but they'll have more one-on-one scenes later on, I like the idea of them having a rocky friendship. And yeah, Buttercup and Butch's relationship will be of more of a main focus, but they'll still be having a slow-burn, the next couple of twists will bring them closer together (all I can say for now because the twists later on are pretty big and I don't want to spoil them!) Hahah! What would their ship name even be? #Chaser? xD You're the sweetest, thank you thank you thank you! *virtual hug*
Anime Chick344034 - Hahaha! Totally, the Red/Pinks and Greens are awesome. Nice, I knew someone would figure out from that scene haha! Yeah, it definitely does. Thank you for reading and reviewing! :)
golddragonriderkira - Thank you thank you thank you! :)
marvel123 - Hahaha! Aw, so sweet, thank you! I have left hints throughout the story, but only one person so far has remembered one and figured it out haha! Yeah, the romance is going to play a more important part in the next couple of chapters, primarily with the Reds/Pinks. Will do, thank you millions! :)
TheWonderfulWorldOfJazz - Awesome, you might have figured it out already then xD Thank you for reading and reviewing :)
Previously; He didn't bother replying to my acidic taunts, like I had hoped he would. Instead, he simply offered a smile in response, a no-teeth, almost pleasant little smile that made him look coy. And I narrowed my eyes at him in return. He wasn't taking the bait like I had wanted him too.
"Why do you look so damned happy?" I bit out, eager to catch him out in a lie, eager to do anything that would force him into admitting to his good deed. To my face. So that I could understand why.
Raising his shoulders in a casual shrug, Butch answered me. "No reason. I'm just glad that you're back to being your regular pain-in-the-backside self."
"Hmm." I smirked at him, all the while trying to hide my disappointment because I was failing and he wasn't going to tell me anything. I nodded at him. "Glad you're back to being a pain too."
Once it had registered that I really was getting nowhere with this, I decided to just go to sleep. There was always tomorrow. I turned myself around and prepared to leave it all behind me for tonight, taking a first step towards the dark, wooden door of Butch's bedroom.
I was about to pass the threshold when I heard Butch's voice again, steadier and louder than before.
"Friends?"
His request caused me to pause in my step. I could practically hear my heart racing, so loud and hard that I could feel the thudding in my ears.
Friends.
Was he serious?
I turned back around to face him again, swallowing the question burning in the back of my throat. The look in his eyes answered me, told me that -yes- he was in fact as serious as ever.
The thought of being friends with Butch Jojo was insanity at its finest, or at least it had been when I had first moved to Ashville. When I first saw him, I didn't recognise him and even then, I still didn't want anything to do with him. But like I had said, things had changed between us. Something had changed.
On my first day in the academy, I had wanted to get rid of his presence so badly, but since then, in so few weeks, Butch had been nothing but brutally honest with me, he had informed me of things that no one else had bothered to tell me, and he tried to comfort me afterwards.
We had fought, physically, verbally, we even had an epic fight involving water - twice. We had laughed together, because he had the ability to make me laugh and vise versa. He was completely selfless with me, apparently. We had freaking held hands - maybe we did, I still believe that I hallucinated the entire experience. And no matter how many times I denied it - we were similar, so alike that I could barely tell our personalities apart.
"Friends," I repeated, pondering over the idea longer than I probably should have. I wanted to laugh at myself for the fact that I was even considering it, but I couldn't deny that I was making excuses for myself, trying to consider it.
Because I wanted it.
My chest raised in a silent laugh. No, if this was going to happen, it was going to happen the right way. "Friends who hate each other?"
He simply smirked. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
I rolled my eyes, biting down the smile on my lips. This was insanity. I was insane. I was totally insane for wanting to be friends with Butch. But then again, I had always been a little crazy with my decisions.
"I'm leaving now." I called back to him as I turned around and made a move for the door, again.
"I hate you, Sunshine." He spoke playfully, the smile clear in his voice.
I smirked to myself as I walked out of the door. "I hate you too, idiot."
XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo
Boy with a broken soul,
Heart with a gaping hole.
Dark twisted fantasy turned to reality.
Kissing death and losing my breath.
Midnight hours, cobble street passages,
Forgotten savages, forgotten savages.
- Mr Ms, Bones
Tuesday, March 5th, 2013.
12:52 p.m.
(Butch)
Butch Jojo's POV
I inhaled a breath, large and deep, nodded in encouragement to myself, exhaled, and I made the kick.
The sounds of the grass blades scuffing against the sole of my sneaker and the whoosh of the force of my propel filled my ears and it was enough to rouse me from my sleep deprived state. The wind was picking up like a storm around the field, sending my spiked hair left and right and back again, billowing my T-shirt and setting a calm coolness against my perspiring face. Once I heard the approving whistle coming from Chase, who stood on my left side, I unrolled my closed eyes back open and I searched the area for where the ball had landed.
"Perfect, mate, perfect." Chase was clapping his hands together, ceasing his earlier whistling.
After a short moment of observance, I spied the football that I had been practicing with, tucked inside the right netted goal that faced opposite of us. Score. I rolled my shoulders back and forth, fighting the ache in my muscles from training for so damned long. I had been training from the moment that classes had been let out for the morning. It had literally become my life. It wasn't so much that there wasn't much else to do in the academy during a weekday (although I had definitely ran out of new activities after my first week the year before) it was more than I knew the benefits from playing for the Falcons. Being the type of elite school that Ashville Academy was, their teams always held the advantage of meeting with talent scouts near the end of the school year, and if I played my cards right and started winning some games for the team, getting a scholarship would be a sure thing.
I didn't even want to go to college, not really. College was a dream that Brick (being the control-freak that he was) had always tried to sell me on - always telling me of the good parts of getting a degree; the job opportunities and security. But, honestly, I just wanted to play football and be known for it one day, and if having impressed scouts could help with that dream, I was all for it. It was the same with Chase - he wanted a scholarship just as much as anyone else on the team, even though his parents could easily afford to send him to the college and University of his dreams without so much as a dent in their wallets. He wanted to achieve it on his own terms, which I respected greatly.
"Thanks, man," I finally answered Chase's praise, diverting my undivided attention towards him. He was dressed up for training in his usual brand of black T-shirt and grey track suit trousers, his dark blonde hair a mess above his eyes from spending almost a full hour practicing new tricks that he had studied online - after he had found his laptop that McCoy had hidden under her pillow, of course. "Are you ready to learn the over-head kick?" I asked him.
He nodded with enthusiasm, dusting dirt off of his shirt. "Ready to learn the move that got you my Captain spot? Hell yes."
"Coach didn't give me the spot because of that move." I endured an eye roll at his backhanded comment - of course, Chase never liked to admit that I was better than him at football. His ego was by far too fragile for that.
Chase simply shot me a self-righteous grin. "Whatever you'd like to believe, mate."
I was fully prepared to argue that my skills far succeeded his, but in the end, I determined to just drop it, let the matter go and decided to just let him have this one. Chase was talented, and even if I was more talented (I totally was) I still saw no point in debating it. Despite what others may think of me, I see no reason in undergoing nonsensical fights. I only ever argued if I felt there was a good enough reason to do so. With Chase's words left lingering between us, I pushed off from my spot on the grass and began to head for the netted goal to retrieve my football so that we could get started on the overhead kick.
"So, I've noticed something." Chase was saying when I reached the goal.
"Yeah?" I replied with absence in my voice as I pried the black and white football from the net and grass.
When I turned to face him again, I noticed that he was clawing at his chin, his eyes deep in thought, and I cursed myself for encouraging his words (Chase plus thinking always ended in disaster). "Well," He pouted his lips outwards. "It's just..Boomer is dating Bubbles, right? And Brick seems to be starting something with Bloss."
Raising an eyebrow, I began to make my way back towards him. "Where are you going with this, Royale?"
"I just think that it's weird, is all," Chase shrugged each of this shoulders as he started kicking around his own football against the grass of the field. "I mean, two sets of triplets, intertwined."
"Okay, first of all-" I held up a finger. "We're not intertwined. There's no intertwining. Secondly-" I added another finger. "It's not weird to me. You don't understand our past like we do."
"Yeah, because you're all so secretive about your old town. What was it called again?"
"Citiesville." I lied. While I had never once stepped foot inside of Citiesville, I had made it a plan to pretend that I used to live there whenever Chase or Daisey asked. I was sure that one of the Utonium's would have mentioned 'Townsville' to Chase before (My money was on the not-so-bright Bubbles) but luckily, he always seemed to forget whatever name I threw at him either way. He was one of the most forgetful people who I knew. I didn't want Chase to be too curious of our old town, just on the off-chance that he might look it up on the internet and read of the story of the two sets of superpowered children. It was an absolute shock that the miracle secret seemed to have only been known in Townsville, but I was alright with that. I didn't want anyone to know about my past anyway.
"Your family is a complete mystery to me, you know that, man?" Chase was already in the middle of practicing (and mastering) his overhead kick while he spoke. "You've never told me anything about your parents or anything like that." (So, Royale, my dad was a monkey. Literally. Yeah, no, he'd probably think that I was making a joke.)
"I think it's totally awesome that we're such a freaking mystery, but I'd rather not talk about it." I attempted to dismiss him before he could prod any further into the past that I just wanted to bury and forget.
Chase's lips were pouting in an instant. "Chill, Butch. I was only curious."
I knew that my snapping had somehow hurt his feelings - he was so sensitive, it wasn't even funny - so I decided to backtrack with a little humour, like I always did whenever I said something to upset someone else. Offering him a classic smirk, I replied. "Curiosity killed the cat."
At that, he began to theatrically hiss and claw at the air with his hand like a little blonde-haired, brown-eyed feline, and we shared a laugh at his antics. I had to give it to him; as much as Chase got on everyone's nerves with his nosey interrogations and his egotistical tendencies, he could always make people laugh. "Wait, wait, wait," Chase breathed through his laughter, now dying down, and shook his hand across the air, a seriousness spreading over his face. "But what about Buttercup?"
"What about her?" I had a sudden interest in the football resting in my hands.
"Well, you know.."
Footballs are cool. "Don't know what you're getting at, Royale."
"Uh, well, Bloss and Brick. Bubbles and Boomer. Buttercup and-"
"Don't even go there," I finally pulled my attention away from the football to hold up one of my hands, stopping him before he could insinuate what I knew he was about to insinuate. "It's not on the cards."
What I felt for Buttercup was ineffable; it was the counterpart bond, it was mutual understanding, it was respect. It was not romantic and it never had been (well, the hand-holding had been pretty romantic, but that was comfort, nothing more). There had been a time in which I was interested in the chase of the unattainable, but that was before I actually began to respect her as a person. And all we had was friendship and a mutual annoyance for each other.
Trust Chase to take something totally innocent and turn it into something with feelings. He might have thought that I was in complete denial, but I'd know if I had feelings for someone. I would have known it right away.
"Come on," He was persisting. "Anyone with a set of eyes can see that you two are freaking made for each other." (If only he knew) "She's crazy," He pointed his index finger at my chest. "You're crazy. She's violent, hilarious and audacious. You're all of those things."
Holding back a groan at his perseverance, I shook my head back and forth. "Just because we have so much in common, doesn't mean that we're meant to date."
His eyebrow was raising high. "But you would date her? If you had the chance?"
There was no resisting the eye roll that occurred after his question - because Chase was such a damn romantic and yet he hadn't even dated a girl since he was fifteen years old (and she had been one out of only two girlfriends), it was completely eye roll worthy that Chase Royale was trying to give me relationship advice - and I started to toss my football from one hand to the other. "I've told you before, I don't do relationships." I grunted in a less than tranquil tone; but Chase had always been unable to take a hint, so he carried on anyway.
"Ah, neither does she," He pointed out, grinning from ear-to-ear like a Cheshire cat as if he actually believed that he had a valid point. "See? Perfect for each other."
"Look," I brought my head back up to look at him. "My last relationship was a complete disaster." I said before I realised that I was treading on a very dangerous territory. I never liked bringing up my past relationships - because that's what they were, a thing of the past - but Chase always had the ability to annoy people to the point of uncontrollable revelation. After taking a long, deep breath, I finished. "I'm not ready to get back into that."
Chase's dark brown eyes raked over mine as his brows raised again. "Oh, yeah, that Avory chick, right?"
My chest was tight as his words spiraled around in my mind; bringing memories a million flashing before my sight of Willow Cress and Avory Gold and everything that had happened in my last three months in that town. I didn't like to remember it. I liked to remember the good times of my years in Willow Cress, but no matter how valiantly I tried, the bad times always came to mind any time I thought of Avory and I wanted to asphyxiate Chase for so much as mentioning her name, but I didn't get angry with him, because he didn't know any better. He didn't know the full story - only my brothers and I knew the whole story. I had given Chase an abbreviated version on the night in which we first got intoxicated together; Chase was smart enough to hide his liquor in a cola bottle; because there was no way that I would have ever brought up Avory's name and my past with her had I not been drunk.
"Yeah, her." I nodded in the slowest way possible as I tried to rid Avory's dark hair and coffee eyes from my subconscious, but it proved to be a harder task than usual because I hadn't heard her name in so, so long. It was an unspoken agreement between my brothers and I that no one mentions her name, or her in general. But Chase didn't know. I diverted my scrutiny back towards Chase and I cleared the scratch inside of my dried out throat. I motioned towards his football with my right hand. "Anyway, let's get started on the overhead kick before the rain starts up again."
In all honesty, I didn't give two damns about the rain. I was used to having to practice in the rain after living in the worst part of Kansas for over four months, but I would have used any excuse possible to stop talking about her.
"Good idea, mate." Chase offered a thumbs up before reaching down to retrieve his football and getting started on all that I had taught him concerning the overhead kick for the last couple of meetings.
I took a stronger hold of my own football, twisted it between my hands, tapped my foot as I waited for him to finish showing me what he could do, and I tried desperately to banish the memories of Avory from my mind - and after a while, I eventually found myself able to function without having her voice and face inside of my head.
(Little did I know that Avory's name was going to be brought up a lot more that afternoon, whether I liked it or not.)
Regular POV
14:19 p.m.
As she surveyed her curled fist, pressed close to Brick's bedroom door but not quite close enough that she was touching it, Blossom willed herself to just swallow down her irresolution and knock on the mahogany wood. She had made her amends with Brick after spending three days avoiding his very sight, she had spoken with him over her issues regarding their will-they-won't-they moment, but she still couldn't bring herself to knock on the door and invite herself back into his day. She took a singular step closer to the darkened wood and she paused again, her legs quivering like a bowl of jello because she was so close - just one wall apart - from Brick and that didn't excite her like it used to; it made her stomach cave and her skin burn with anticipation. She raised hesitant fingers to her face, caressing her tinted lips, still able to feel the warmth and passion of his kiss against them every time she closed her eyes (his kiss was so magnetic, too rapturous to forget).
She was eager to clear the air between them that had been left by his revelation the previous night, when he had informed her all about his past relationship with a girl named Avory Gold. Since she had awoken that morning, she had been unable to stop thinking about it - because she had been so worried that she would never be able to trust anyone romantically after what Richard Lane had done, but Brick had been through the same predicament, he had it a lot worse than she did, and yet he was still willing to give this - this thing that they had, this attraction and connection - a chance. She wasn't sure if that she make her feel special or obligated. And it was making her mad, knowing that he trusted her but she didn't trust him enough. Knowing that destroyed her, because it didn't seem fair. In her mentality, she didn't deserve that much devotion if she couldn't offer the same for him.
(She didn't deserve the man with morals because she wasn't sure where her own morals were hiding these days)
With her heart beating in her throat and trepidation burning on her skin, she waited, waited for herself to summon up the courage to knock on his bedroom door and be by his side once more. She almost found it funny. Things with Richard had been easy, in the beginning. She asked him out, calm and collected as always, and they shared a number of dates before they ultimately began a public relationship. But with Brick, she was struggling to so much as walk through his door, because he made her heart race with just a smile, made her feel appreciated, made her feel like she was at home in his embrace. And that was so painful to deal with. It was so human. She wasn't great at being human, she wasn't great at any of this; living as a regular high school student. She spent most of her time thinking of the past, lying to her friends about the details of her life before Ashville, and just trying to fit in like everyone else. Adding relationships and feelings (feelings like this, like need and devotion) was tipping her over the metaphorical edge. She envied Brick for being able to wear his humanity on his sleeve so effortlessly.
After Blossom had finally found it in herself to knock, the door to Brick and Chase's bedroom was swinging open. She knew that Chase was spending some quality friend time with Butch and Buttercup in the common room, so she wouldn't have to worry about him intruding on the conversation that she needed to have. Brick, as assumed, was the person standing behind the door when it was opened, and when his eyes laid on her, he gave her that Brick smile - societal and picturesque - and it made her heart exude warmth all around her chest because she hadn't seen that smile since their kiss. Without making any noise whatsoever, Brick stepped past the threshold and into the hallowed second year's hall, closing his door behind him rather than inviting her inside because he wasn't willing to risk a staff member catching her breaking one of their precious rules.
"Blossom. Hey," Brick greeted as he leaned against the wall adjacent to his fading door. "I was about to come find you." (That explained why the door had opened so quickly, she mused to herself)
Taking a small step back to shred the too-close proximity between them, Blossom placed her perspiring palms on either side of her white brocade skirt, the material dusted with golden flower patterns, and she inhaled a breath so deeply that she was forced to hold back a choke because there was so much air and not enough time to register it all. "Can we, um," She tried to return his friendly smile, but all that could form was a little curve of her painted lips. "Can we talk about last night?"
At her question, he nodded in accord. "Yeah, of course."
With that, Blossom hesitantly reached her hand out and clasped it around his - the only way that she could think of to show him the slightest bit of affection, to show him that there was no bad blood between them - and, God, his hand shouldn't have felt so perfect around hers, but it did, it was a perfect fit. She tugged him forward from the wall, pulling him onto his feet by their interlaced fingers, and she guided him away from the door and further into the hall where the only spare rooms were held and they could have a private moment of conversation. It was almost near impossible to find a spot in either three buildings of the school in which someone could speak freely without another student or a staff member laying around (especially if a male and female wanted some privacy, considering the rule concerning the bedrooms).
She sank down the cream-coloured wall, tearing Brick down with her, keeping him close. And they sat there, at the very end of the second year's hallway, their wall adjacent to the set of male and female bathroom doors that stood opposite from the communal stairset. The bulbs were cracking above them due to neglect and desuetude, leaving the pair in a mild darkness before blinking back to life for short seconds. Once they were seated, their backs pressed against the wall, their legs tossed out in front of them and their knees facing towards the faded white ceiling, Blossom slipped her attenuated fingers away and released her hold on Brick's hand, only for him to take it back seconds afterwards, pressing his fingertips into the back of her head (because there was no letting go).
As the beautiful sensation of his skin on hers began to flow through her bloodstream, Blossom's head wrenched to the side and her wise eyes sunk into his, startled, intimate, and she felt like she was flying because there was no control, and before she knew it, she was wrapping her fingers around his again, swimming in the electricity that his touch always seemed to exude. She could feel her pulse quicken, surging faster than it ever had before, and it hurt, but it was a good hurt. It was a reminder that someone could still make her heart just..race. Her breath was hitched inside her throat, and it was painfully uncomfortable, but in her head, she was still flying in the euphoria.
"I'm sorry." Her voice was nothing short of a whisper, but due to their close propinquity, he could still hear her words with clarity, and the apology made his blood run cold in his veins because she had nothing to apologize for, but she's Blossom, and she'll blame herself before she'll blame anyone else.
"What do you have to be sorry about? You didn't do anything." The conspicuous creases against his forehead were woven together as he looked at her, unable to catch her pink gaze considering she was busy staring up at the fluorescent lights that were so close to burning out forever. He felt a spike of something smothering clench in the cage of his chest at the look of despondency inside of her orbs, and it felt close to asphyxiating him each passing second of seeing that look.
She shifted, and then her eyes were downcast, trapped like glue on their connected hands (their hands looked so perfect together, a flawless fit, she could barely contain herself from observing it). "I'm not sorry for me," She spoke in an undertone, the lilt in her voice lifting and crashing back down between each word. "I'm sorry for what happened."
(Avory. Avory. Gold. Unfaithful. Butch. Brother. Avory. Butch. Cheat. So many words incessantly and repetitively flashing through his subconscious as Blossom drove him to remember what he had told her of the night before.)
His adam's apple rose and fell as he swallowed, hard, trying to remember what breathing was. He looked at Blossom and all he wanted to do was run his hand through the lustre waterfall of auburn that was her hair - stare at her face until every line and freckle was permanently imprinted in his memory - brush his lips over hers and return to that happy little Heaven that had occurred when she first lay lips on him - but life was unfair and he could do none of those things.
"I got over it a long time ago." He tried to convince her in something akin to a murmur - because if he couldn't believe his own words, how could she?
Blossom shook her head adamantly, her thin, poker-straight hair falling into her eyes and caressing the skin of her face. "No, you didn't." She tightened her grip on his hand and prepared for the cold, hard truth. "I know as well as you do how hard it is to be in love with someone, to trust them, and then to have them cheat on you." Her heart was aching and throbbing and caving as images of Richard and his five-foot-nothing harlot entered her mind like a bad nightmare. "I still don't understand how Butch could do that to you."
At the mention of his green-eyed brother's name, Brick crumbled. "It wasn't his fault."
Eyebrows rising, she ran her thumb over the back of his hand. "Why are you making excuses for him?"
"Because he's my brother, Bloss." He snapped in a low, harsh voice, his breaths sliding out rapid and painful between beats. When her softened eyes locked back onto his, Brick took a small, calmer breath, and he carried on. "If I don't make excuses for him, then I'll just be angry with him, and I would rather leave words unspoken than speak them." He switched the direction of his sight to the blinking lights on the ceiling, his red eyes flaming from the luminescence. "You saw what happened between my brothers when Butch showed that picture of Boomer and Bubbles. I don't want that. And I didn't want that back then either."
Not that they had been very close in Willow Cress, Brick mused over. The closest they had ever been was when they resided in Townsville, when they all grew up together and spent all of their time with one another because they didn't need friends or girlfriends at that age (only each other, always and forever). But now, they had this humanity inside of their bones and everything that encompassed it, and it was tearing them all apart so effortlessly.
(Humanity was destruction, he had come to learn)
A frown, small and unnoticeable, tore at Blossom's pink lips from Brick's bark of defense and his words, but she didn't blame him for a single second. "I understand," In all honesty, she was trying to understand, but she could never fully comprehend the extent of it all. She and her sisters had always been close. Nothing could tear them apart for too long. Neither of her sisters would ever do something as heinous as steal something or someone from the other. Buttercup would never hurt her like that. Bubbles would never even dream of it. Blossom could apprehend Brick, but she couldn't even begin to apprehend Butch. "But," She continued. "I don't understand how you can be so blasé about the situation."
"There's a lot that you don't understand about what happened," His gaze darted around the area in which they were seated, and only then did it fully sink in that he was sitting in a hallway with Blossom Utonium, his hand overlaid across hers and their fingers meshed together, having a heart-to-heart about their troubles. His nine year-old self would probably tell him to stop being such a silly idiot and blast her stupid face off. Oh, how the times had changed.
"He didn't just wake up one morning and decide to date my girlfriend," Brick continued as he set his eyes to rest against the cream-hued wall that stood opposite them. "It was..it was more complicated than that."
"How is it complicated?" She stared at the side of his face, overcast with shadow from the dim lighting. "It sounds to me like Butch stole your girlfriend, there's nothing complicated about that."
"Look, I don't want to get into this right now," He dismissed the topic of conversation as he lost all feeling in his hand because Blossom was practically exuding her petulance against his bones. "The point is that I'm over it, and I want to be with you," With that, he met her eyes once more, sinking in the gravity of his own words. "But only if you've moved on from Richard."
She wanted to drown. Just plunge into the depths of the deepest waters and descend further and further until her problems were too far away to catch up with her and make her skin burn because she had to make choices and she had never been good at making the correct decisions. But as much as she wanted release his hand, bolt down the hallway as fast as her long legs would take her, and hide away in the safety of her bedroom until this situation was no longer so daunting, she couldn't do that to him. Not again. He was strong; she wanted to be strong. She wanted to be the type of person that someone like Brick would be proud to call theirs, and right now, she didn't feel like she was.
With closed eyes, she chewed at her bottom lip, her teeth scraping and grazing and forcing the words off of the tip of her tongue because there was no running now, she had to say what she was feeling. "I..I'm not sure what to do," She breathed her words out on a long exhale. "I don't know if I can date anyone right now, Brick." She wanted to. God, she wanted to so badly. "It's too soon."
His heart was caving at her words, but he was nodding in understanding anyway. "I get it," Brick's dimples came out to play at either side of his smile. "I know that things are complicated right now, like really complicated, but if you decide, one day, that you want to give us a try, I'll be here." (He'd come running)
Blossom returned his smile, as vivid as ever, and ran her thumb over his fingers in a featherlight motion. "That's really sweet of you."
Wearing a grin filled with warmth and affection, he raised one of his shoulders, the action tugging at their still connected hands. "I'm a sweet guy."
As silent seconds passed them by, she lay her cheek against the curve of his shoulder, her back slumped against the wall, and for several long minutes, they sat like that, mute and contented and just waiting.
(waiting for their moment)
Butch Jojo's POV
14:51 p.m.
The paintings in the hall pissed me off.
I hadn't thought much of it until I found myself strolling down the main hallway in the first building and my eyes were raking over the teal-coloured walls that held not a single blemish to be seen. Each painting that the academy procured hung against the wall, each lining in a precise pattern, all wrapped up in fancy golden and silver frames, each more pretentious and puzzling than the last. It was hard to appreciate the chosen artwork, no matter how expensive or creative they may have been. Sure, they were all pretty realistic looking, but none of them compared to what Boomer could do with a paintbrush. Holiday should have been hanging his drawings around the school instead. He had way more talent than the 'famous' fools whose paintings hung around our school. These days, a prominent name will beat out any real talent. It really pissed me off.
In all honesty, the paintings didn't bother me all that much, I was just attempting to immerse myself in a different train of thought to rid my mind of the incessant Chase-Buttercup-discussion. No matter how valiantly I tried to think of something else, I couldn't seem to get my earlier conversation with Chase out of my mind. I mean, I had always known that he was a little cuckoo -insert whistling noise here- but the fact that he actually thought that Buttercup and I would ever work out in the romantic sense was just pure insanity. I was having a hard time so much as being friends with Buttercup, we would never be able to make a relationship function properly. She would get on my nerves every second of every day. She would scream at the top of her lungs any time I so much as say something that she wouldn't agree with. Sure, there would be benefits to dating someone like Buttercup too (I mean, she was kind of funny, really funny, and we had a lot in common, she was good at sports and I guess she had nice eyes too) but us dating? That was just completely out of the question. I just prayed that Chase wasn't going to go all Relationship-Guru-Daisey and aimlessly try to set us up on a date or something.
The first-building hallway was almost entirely void as I walked, heading for the dinning room to grab a quick, inedible lunch before I would have to revert back to more football practice with the Falcons. In hindsight, I probably should have taken the day off from practice to shower and hang out with my brothers. My T-shirt was clinging to the perspiration on my back and there was an odour situation going on but I was convinced that if I didn't get back to training soon, I would either end up taking out all of my pent up frustrations on some poor bystander, or I would completely forget how to play the sport. The second option might have been a little over exaggerative but it is possible. Football isn't like re-learning how to ride a bike; a couple of days without it and it's like trying to remember how to walk after you've spent a whole day seated.
From the distance, I could spot the doors to the communal dinning room gaining closer and closer, so I quickened my speed further, eager to get to the - what was considered - good food before it was all gone, but the sudden appearance of a willowy figure caused me to pause. I was stopped from walking inside the room when a familiar head of auburn hair halted me in my steps, taking a place directly in front of me, blocking my path to the sapphire double-doors.
"Uh," I examined her from head-to-toe. She wore too much pink. She always wore too much pink. "Hi?"
Blossom's lean arms were placed on either side of her hips, her foot tapping loudly against the carpeted floor beneath us, and she suddenly reminded me of a very ticked off Buttercup. If she had added a scowl and maybe a string of nonsensical insults and curses, she'd be her sister. She wore a white skirt covered in gold flowers and a pink T-shirt that was so bright that I had to blink the disorientation out of my eyes, and heeled shoes that made her even taller than me, so much so that I'd have to step on my tiptoes to match her height-for-height.
"Butch," She spat my name with as much venom as I had ever heard from her - not that I had spent a lot of quality time with Blossom. In fact, this was our first time speaking to one another with no one else lingering around. Her eyes were narrowed into slits - like some sort of pink-clad snake - when she spoke again. "You're disgraceful."
Well, that I certainly was not expecting; although it wasn't the first time that I had been called disgraceful.
"You're probably right," I played along through a frisky grin. "But why am I disgraceful today?"
She shook her head ever so slowly, her eyes slanting further against mine. "How could you do that to Brick?"
I stared at her for several short seconds, incomprehension written all over my features. "Excuse me?"
"Are you really going to pretend that you have no idea what I'm talking about?"
"Maybe you should try elaborating, Utonium, because I really don't know what you're trying to say." A small chuckle left my lips, because knowing Blossom (in other words, knowing Brick) she was going to pull me into a pointless argument about something as monotonous as leaving a ketchup stain on Brick's bedroom carpet.
Blossom's visage was as hard as stone when her painted pink lips pried apart and she breathed out the name that I had dreaded hearing again all morning. "Avory Gold."
At that, my heart stuttered and I could practically feel the thick blood in my veins boiling beneath my icy skin and my face growing taut at the very mention of that name (I had heard it enough times today - one was enough). "Where did you hear about that?"
"Brick," She revealed through bared teeth, and I knew that I should have seen that coming from a mile off. Of course Brick wasn't going to just try to date this girl without telling her his entire life story. Brick was an idiot. A fucking idiot. "He told me that his ex girlfriend cheated on him," She added before nodding in my direction. "With you. Again, I'm asking, how could you do that to your own brother?"
(I had no idea that my heart could hammer that fast against my chest - but it was, because she had the audacity to judge me for something she had no place talking about)
Her question hit me like a ton of bricks - no pun intended - and I wanted to scream - scream that, no, she wasn't allowed to blame me for this. People blamed me for everything. Teachers, friends, even my brothers. And sure, most of the time, I actually was the one who deserved the blame, but this was something else. This was Avory and Brick and me and Willow Cress and she had no idea what happened because all of those things were the part of my life that she had had no involvement in. She knew Brick's side. She didn't know mine.
(She didn't know that I loved that girl too.)
"Whoa," I elevated my hand in front of myself and shook it to pause the insinuations spewing from her lips. "You've got it all wrong."
"So you didn't steal your brother's girlfriend?" Her left eyebrow was raised high, her lips pouted outwards a little, a knowing look harbouring inside of her eyes - and she had never reminded me more of Brick until then.
"Well, technically-"
"That's all that matters." She cut me off before I could finish my sentence.
Anger rose and spiraled around in my chest until my breathing was rendered to hard puffs of air. "You don't understand what you're talking about," I spat through the cracks in my bared teeth. "Brick didn't tell you the whole story, did he?"
"I don't need the whole story. I know the basics," She barked right back. "Brick dated her, you dated her behind his back."
"Don't judge me unless you have all of the facts, Utonium." I was trying to sound like I wasn't panicking just from having this conversation -because this was going to get out, and people wouldn't understand, and people would judge me, even Buttercup, she would judge me for it- but she knew. If she couldn't see my panic before, she had definitely realised after the intonation of my voice when I spoke the words.
Something akin to a scoff left her lips. "I'm not judging you. I feel sorry for you."
With a laugh so bitter that it reminded me of the Rowdyruff formerly known as me, I shook my head at her. "Look, Blossom, I have no idea why Brick felt the need to bring this up again, but I didn't steal his girlfriend. Avory started it, and I ended it. What happened in between is really none of your business."
"I'm not trying to make it my business," Her arms were thrown in the air, and I could tell that my defense was aggravating her. "I'm just disgusted by the fact that you seem to bring trouble wherever you go. Townsville, Willow Cress. And here too. You can't seem to so much as open your mouth without saying something that will cause a riot."
(If she wanted a riot-)
"You have no clue, Blossom. I loved Avory too, okay?" My fingers cut into my skin as I balled my fists and I was starting to wonder why on earth I thought that this girl could have been my friend one day. She wasn't anything like Brick. Sure, she was looking out for him, but getting herself involved wasn't helping him. She didn't understand.
She folded her arms over her pink T-shirt. "Yeah," Her tone was positively satirical. "I'm sure you did."
Having had enough of hearing little Miss Perfect stand there and judge me, I waved her off in dismissal. "I'm done with this conversation."
Blossom, eyes wild and hard and frustrated at me, offered me a single nod. "Good."
I didn't bother to wait for her to take her leave and slam her doors. Instead, I pushed right past her and headed into the dinning room, listening as her shoes sounded down the opposite direction and all I wanted to do was turn back around and throw a chair in her face (maybe I was over exaggerating, I wouldn't hit her in the face with anything, but I was just so enraged). Once I was inside the room, I slumped my back against the wall adjacent to the door and I held my hand over my chin, covering my scowling lips and breathing roughly against my splayed fingers because -dammit- I was angry, and I wasn't supposed to get this angry. (Stupid anger problems. Stupid Brick. Stupid Avory. Stupid Utonium. Stupid everything.)
Something bad always happened when I got this angry.
And even though I was perfectly aware of that, I still found myself marching to Brick's bedroom.
Regular POV
15:02 p.m.
As he held a V-necked shirt in the air between his fingers, Brick examined the fine material inch-to-inch, spying for anything out of the ordinary. Ever since one of the academy's staff members accidentally shrunk of his favourite shirts - a rolled-up sleeved utility shirt with far too many white buttons and a fabric so red that it gave his eyes a run for their money - he had made it a personal errand to thoroughly inspect everything that came out of the washing room. He found it rather peculiar that an academy known for its perfection and its aristocracy was as faulted as it was. The food was just all shades of terrible, and the provided coffee was staler than a sixty-year old loaf of bread. The staff set a select listing of regulations, all of which appeared to be broken time and time again without neither Holiday nor any other teacher or staff member finding out. And the person - whoever this staff member was - who was in charge of washing the student's clothing, always did a substandard job.
Each Monday evening, the students of each year would collect their personal baskets of dirty clothing that they had used/worn in the last seven days, and they would send their baskets (the baskets of which had room numbers on the bottom so that they would be returned to the correct bedroom) down to the washing room, which was located in the first building, adjacent to the in-door swimming area. It would take at least an entire day to get through all of the clothes from each year, and baskets would be sent back up by the end of Tuesday morning classes. Although the clothes always seemed to come back looking worse off than when they had been sent down.
After three coffee stains (that hadn't even been on any of his shirts before-hand because Brick rarely drank the coffee provided by the academy, he prefered Cappuccino from The Sweet and Sour down the road), two shrunken sweaters, a pair of jeans with an unintentional hole in the knee, and four missing pairs of socks, Brick decided that he would keep an inventory of all of his clothing so that he could keep track of everything and make prompt complaints if anything went wrong. He knew that he really needed to get out more (Chase reminded him of this more often that you would think) but his clothes were still of importance.
Once he had rifled through various T-shirts and pants and had checked that every item of clothing that had been sent down had returned to him again, he began to pack each article of clothing back into the circular, smoky white washing basket that was sat atop the thin sheets of his bed. He picked it up, carrying the basket with both hands, and headed for the two-person wardrobe that he shared with his roommate, Chase (although, of course, Chase had more clothes than he did, so Chase was given the majority of the closet while Brick obtained a small section on the left side).
He was in the middle of sorting through handfuls of red shirts and sorting them onto slim coat hangers to place inside the wardrobe when he gained a distraction from the loud, booming yell that emerged through his bedroom door, accompanied by the tall stature and taut physique of Butch Jojo.
"Hey! Stop whatever you're doing," Butch's authoritative voice filled his ears and he suppressed an eye roll. He was surprised that his dark-haired sibling didn't parade around wearing a big-ass crown on his head because he certainly acted as though he was a King, expecting everyone to drop everything for him. The wardrobe door beside Brick's face was slammed shut with so much force that the sound vibrated throughout the entirety of the room, and when Brick inspected the air in which the door used to linger, he was met with Butch's fuming red face. "We need to have a chat," Butch's voice was toxic and demanding as he spat out the last word, "Brother."
As he hung up the coat hanger in his hand, Brick tossed his sibling a cursory glance from across his red-clad shoulder. It didn't take him long to add up the dots. Butch looked beyond livid and a little perplexed; and only one thing could morph his face to look that way; he felt betrayed. "I am assuming that you've spoken with Blossom today?"
Butch pushed a small sigh from his lips, barely above an escaping exhale of breath. "Why exactly did you bring Avory into conversation? I was under the impression that we had settled all of that." (or, he'd hoped, at least)
"What?" Brick shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "Did you think that we would just never mention her name again?"
(yes)
"Well we had been doing that just fine, until Judgey McJudgerson, also known as Blossom Utonium, showed up." Although he was filled to the core with anger, Butch immediately regretted his sentence. He was glad to have the Utonium sisters in the school, it gave them a little excitement and new set of friends to spend their free time with, and he was glad that Boomer had finally found a girl who could pull him out of his self-built shell. But Blossom had beyond aggravated him by pulling him into this mess again.
"Don't bring Blossom into this," Brick bit out in a somewhat calm manner. He closed the remaining door of his wardrobe before turning to face Butch, devoting him his full, undivided attention. "Seriously," He went on. "It was me who brought this up."
"Apparently Blossom has brought herself into this by confronting me when she doesn't even have all of the facts."
"The facts, the facts," Brick's voice rose to a roar as he tossed his arms into the tense air out of sheer exasperation. "Will you shut up about the facts!?" He barked with his teeth bared like a wild, uncaged animal. "You still dated Avory behind my back, no facts can justify that!"
Inhaling a strong breath, Butch shook his head in disbelief of his brother's words, a bitter smile tearing at his naturally crooked lips. "I can't believe we're having this argument again."
Brick let out a sound that sounded like a cross between a scoff and a groan. "You started it!"
"I wouldn't be starting it if you had never brought it up today!"
"I wouldn't have brought it up if you hadn't done it!"
At that, the air between them fell still and cold, and the splenetic smile died on Butch's face. Red eyes battled green as they always had during an argument, but this was different, this was about Avory Gold - the pretty Avory with a smile like a knife who underneath her calm and collected exterior, hid a beautiful soul and a wise mind - and this was a battle. A battle that had supposedly long died the year before, leaving no apparent wounds and no bad blood, but that had been a lie, because neither of them were over it, the battle hadn't ended like it was supposed to.
For seconds upon seconds, Butch was so silent that even the pitter patter of his heart made no apparent noise, and he was staring at his brother head-on, taken aback by the comment that had spewed from his lips - he had done it, it was too late to take it back - and Butch, trying to busy his hands from connecting with Brick's face, folded his arms over the T-shirt that accentuated every muscle running against his toned arms. "I thought that we had long gotten over this," He was saying, spitting, because his anger was at its fullest and it was taking everything in him not to unleash it. "But clearly, we haven't."
Also crossing his arms over his chest, Brick offered a singular nod in consensus. "I guess not."
Butch's eyes, dark and wild, were as narrow as green slits blinking beneath his heavy eyelids - because he was so tired with this. "I won't have this argument over and over, Brick. How many times do I have to tell you that I didn't do anything wrong?"
A laugh, so bitter and devoid of amusement that it caused Butch to suppress a flinch, escaped Brick's lips as he nodded again in disbelief. "Of course, even after everything that happened with Boomer, you still reject any and all form of blame. That's just perfect."
"No," He bellowed back, furiously and so loud that he was sure that the entire second building could eavesdrop with ease. "I accepted blame for the situation with Boomer because I was to blame. But not in this. You knew the entire time that you and Avory were dating that I liked her too."
"She was dating me," Brick's growling voice was absolutely animalistic as he held his hands out in front of him, begging to choke the air because he wanted to knock sense into his brother but he would never lay a hand on him like that. "Whether you liked her or not shouldn't have been a factor!"
Taking a step closer to him, Butch resisted the urge to throw a punch in his scowling face (there was a time in which he thought he'd never be able to even think of causing harm to Brick, but dammit, the anger was thriving and living inside of his chest and his rage had always been destructive enough to destroy him and everyone, everything, around him). "I liked Avory for a whole lot longer than you did. I thought I'd never be able to tell anyone, but I told you, I told you that I liked her, and what did you do? You asked her out. What kind of a brother does that?"
"What kind of a brother dates his sibling's girlfriend behind their back just because he liked her first!?"
"That's it," Having had enough of having the same argument, over and over, with no results, no end, Butch held up his hand to pause the exchange of fruitless words. "I'm done with this. I'm fucking done with it."
"Yeah," Brick called back to him as he began to move. "Walk away from a dispute in which you're in the wrong, that's what you're best at!"
Ignoring the painfully true words spitting from his brother's lips, Butch pushed off and stormed towards the bedroom door, slamming the aching wood behind him, trying to calm his anger because he wasn't supposed to get this angry.
Getting angry had been the reason for him having to move to Kansas; God only knows what would happen if he unleashed it again.
(Chaos)
Butch Jojo's POV
18:23 p.m.
When I emerged into the unoccupied common area, I was sure that I was going to faint if I didn't sit down immediately. Everything hurt. I had spent three whole hours and then some with the Falcons, training and teaching them a couple of defensive strategies as well as the overhead kick (the move that may or may not have secured my Captain spot during my audition). My limbs were aching all over and I was practically doused in perspiration and mud. My T-shirt was beyond repair from the dirt stains, but I had five of the exact same so I didn't bother to care. After such a tough - and let's face it, shit - day, all I wanted to do was sprawl myself out on one of the couches and immerse in some well-deserved relaxation. I was exhausted. And I was angry. Well, I wasn't really angry - it took a lot for me to be angry at either of my brothers - I was more vexed because I didn't like to bring up the past; Townsville or Willow Cress. Those times were well and truly over, and they should have stayed in the past where they belonged, but Brick was apparently just determined to ruin my mood by speaking of it.
I was searching for a familiar face inside of the common room - someone to cheer me up and take my mind off of the terrible day that I had endured - when I took an instant notice of Buttercup, sprawled back against the cushions of one of the couches near the left end of the room. While Buttercup wasn't exactly an ideal choice for cheering someone up, I knew that she was better than no one, and so I decided to waltz over and talk to her. She was hunched over the table in front of her, her face looming over a rectangular piece of paper, the end of a pencil wedged between her neutral lips, and her knee was rising and falling on account of her incessant foot-tapping underneath the table.
After I had sat down beside her on the couch, she finally elevated her sight up from the paper that appeared to be some sort of school work and diverted her full scrutiny towards me. She looked me in the eye, her light green orbs sparkling at the sight of a distraction, and the corner of her lip quirked up so slightly that it was almost completely imperceptible - because that was the best that I could ever get from Buttercup even after we put aside our differences and became friends. She wasn't the type of friend that had heart-to-hearts or gave hugs or loaned items; she was the type that you could turn to if there was no one else, the type that would give you small smiles of encouragement and hang out with you when there was no other option available.
"Sunshine," I greeted her, my terrible mood enlivening from seeing the irritation splash across her face because she was anything but a ball of sunshine but I still liked to call her it anyway; because she hated it and she was funny when she hated things. I turned my attention towards the piece of paper sat in front of her and I raked my eyes over the messy writing that I knew to be hers. "What's up?"
"Just doing some Math homework," She mumbled sulkily in return, frowning at me - a frown that made her look almost human and not a crazy she-bat. "I wish that this place would allow pets so that I could get a dog to 'eat my homework'," She joked, clearly trying to lighten both of our moods. "That excuse was golden in first year."
At her comment, I laughed, recalling how many times I had tried that excuse. No matter how golden it may seem, it never worked out anymore. "You could always tell Mr Cavanaugh that Daisey ate your homework."
Buttercup's lips pursed in contemplation as she tapped an index finger against her chin. "Daisey is pretty strange. I could probably get away with that."
I proffered her a thumbs-up. "Good luck."
She gave me a real Buttercup smile this time; broad and mischievous and shiny like the glint of a knife. I rarely saw Buttercup's genuine smile, it was something that she reserved for her sisters and for her friends that were not me. But on the rare occasions that I did see it, I memorised it, imprinted and engraved it in my subconscious, because it really was a great smile and she should have done it more often. It's like she wasn't even aware how arresting it was.
As I lay back against the large red cushions of the couch, I released a sigh that was positively filled with stress and I tried to pry the memory of my argument with Brick out of my head. Brick and I rarely argued, but when we did, it was always bad always catastrophic and it hurt like Hell because we used to be so close that the very thought of a disagreement was unthinkable. Willow Cress had been the place where my brothers and I had all seemed to go our separate ways, and Ashville was the place where we tried to make the 'sibling' thing work again without tearing each other's head's off. The truth was that my brothers and I hadn't been close since we were kids, since Townsville.
I was lost in that thought for only God knows how long, and then I felt myself being yanked out from my musings by the sensation of Buttercup jabbing her index finger into the muscle of my arm like a five-year-old. "What's wrong with you, Butch?" She asked as soon as she had halted her incessant poking and prodding of my arm. "If your scowl got any scowlier, you'd look like me on a Monday morning."
"Don't worry about it, Sunshine," I dismissed her with an absentminded gesture of my left hand, although I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't a little elated at the thought of Buttercup freaking Utonium showing consideration for me. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with."
"Spill it, Jojo," At that, I craned my neck so that I could see her, and I caught the slight roll of her eyes. "Come on," She added as she adjusted herself on the leather so that she was facing me directly and she poked at my arm again. "You look like you're desperate to rant about something."
"Why do you care?" The question came out a little harsher than I had intended it to, but I was still furious and apparently no amount of Buttercup-ness could change that.
She raised a thin eyebrow at me, the harshness of my tone seeming to roll right off of her. "We're friends, aren't we?"
I nodded in return. "Yeah, of course we're friends."
"So come on, talk to me." Buttercup slumped back against the sofa, her extended leg unintentionally brushing up against mine. "Plus, I need a distraction from trying to come up with a good excuse as to why I didn't do my homework." I noticed her nodding towards the pile of papers on the table, but most of her words were drowning out because her leg was touching mine and she apparently hadn't even noticed, which was odd considering she was the Queen of personal space.
"Alright," I mumbled in response as I trailed my eyes up from her leg to her eyes. "It's about Brick."
A pout, theatrical and frisky, tore at her neutral lips. "What did he do? Call you a big word that you don't understand the meaning of?"
Following her question, my glance transformed into a glare, and I unsealed my lips, baring my teeth at her. If I wasn't such a lovely little ball of sunshine -pun intended- I would have started to throw things at her smug face. "Hey," I pointed defensively at her. "I'm smart."
Her satirical pout modified into a classical Buttercup smirk; all holier-than-thou and sardonic. "No, you really aren't."
(Joke's on her. I was created from her.)
"Look," I exhaled the word sharply on a sigh. "I'm just a little ticked off at Brick because he felt the need to tell Blossom about our past and we agreed to keep the past to ourselves." A little ticked was a definitely understatement.
"Oh, tell me about it," She groaned, rolling her green eyes. "Bloss and Bubbles are constantly bringing up our past. Our superpowers, Townsville, Robin, Mitch and stuff."
"Mitch?" I raised an eyebrow inquisitively at her - because who the Hell was Mitch?
"Not important," She disregarded with a flick of her short hair. "So, what did Brick bring up?"
Moving on from my earlier curiosities, I continued with the subject at hand, praying that our friendship would make her think twice about getting angry with me (or, worse, judging me). "Basically, Brick had been dating one of our old friends, Avory, for five months, right? And then I got together with her, while they were still involved."
For a short moment that seemed to drag on forever in my mind, Buttercup was perfectly silent, almost tranquilly, a look of contemplation washing over her face. And then, out of nowhere, she was swinging a fist at me with as much power as she always exuded. I managed to catch her fist in the palm of my hand - which, by the way, is fucking painful - before she could reach my face. "Wow," I blinked, loosening the grip on her hand. "What are you playing at, Sunshine?"
Her scowl was so toxic that I thought she was going to throw me through the nearest window - wouldn't be the first time, either, only I had a superpowered body back then, I'd probably die if she did it now. "You know," She was practically hissing. "Blossom had an unfaithful boyfriend. You're no better than the little brunette chick that helped her boyfriend cheat."
"It's..totally different." I didn't even sound convinced with my own words - I was busy thinking back onto my argument with Blossom that afternoon, how she had gotten so angry at me without even knowing the full story, and it made sense. She was angry at me because she knew exactly how Brick felt; she was angry at me because I was a reminder. I really was no better than the girl Blossom's boyfriend cheated with.
Buttercup yanked her curled fist out of my grasp. "Explain."
I shook the ache out of my hand. "I met Avory when I first joined Willow High after my brothers and I moved into the hostel," I started to tell her. "She was one of my best friends for a couple of years, but apparently I can't have best friends because I bloody ended up having feelings for her." I mentally slapped myself at the memory. Having feelings for a best friend works out like ten percent of the time. I was stupid. Really stupid. Buttercup was nodding absently as I carried on. "So, one day, I decided that I was going to ask her out, so I told Brick that I liked her, told him that I wanted to date her, the whole nine-yards, and then when I was finally ready to tell her, I found out that Brick had already asked her out and she had said yes."
Her eyebrows knit together above her eyes. "So she didn't like you back? She liked Brick?"
"No, she did like me," I gestured with my right hand. "But for some reason, she thought that it would be a good idea to date Brick. To this day, I still don't have a bleeding clue why she decided to go out with him, but she did, and eventually she told me that it was me she liked, after her and Brick had been dating for five months, and at first I was thinking that she was crazy because she had been dating Brick for ages and she just then decided to tell me that she liked me instead, but I still liked her, so this was like music to my fucking ears."
When I focused on Buttercup's face again, I caught her staring vacantly into my eyes - proving that she was either really bored with my story, or she was planning a way to make me pay for dating Avory in the first place. Either way, I was offended and a little freaked out.
"So you agreed to date her?" She asked in her monotone voice; the voice she used when she was feeling stultified. Perfect. (Fuck knows how I could compartmentalize every face or sound she made.)
Although she evidently wasn't paying enough attention, I still nodded and continued speaking, mostly because I was dying to get all of this out after my fight with Brick. "On the contrary to what he thinks, I didn't want to hurt Brick, but I didn't want to leave Avory either. I asked her to break up with Brick, but she wouldn't, she got me convinced that it would be best if we saw each other behind Brick's back because then he wouldn't be mad at either of us. So we dated in secret."
At that, Buttercup pressed her fingertips against the soft temples at either side of her face. "What is with secret relationships these days?"
Rolling my eyes at her question, I tossed a hand in the air to shoosh her. "Quiet, we're almost at the end of the story." I adjusted myself on the leather, laying my arm over the top of the sofa, leaned in like I was about to spill a big bit of gossip. "Okay, so me and Avory were as happy as freaking unicorns for two months after we got together. She even told me that she loved me too, it was like a bloody movie. And then Brick found out about us, I won't go into how, and as you can expect.."
"Hell broke loose?" She suggested, her eyes dulling behind the asymmetrical fringe that was spilling into them. (See? She totally understood me. She could finish my sentences and everything.)
"Exactly," I pointed an index finger at her. "But we had sorted it all out ages ago. I broke it off with Avory and both Brick and I stopped seeing her for the sake of our bro-ship. It was done, settled with, never to be spoken of again, and then he told Blossom and brought it all back up again."
"Hmm," Buttercup raised one shoulder, seemingly more interested in speaking now that the story was finished. "Well, if you were able to settle it before, you can do it again."
"I guess you're right." I said as I slumped back against the couch, staring up at the cracking white ceiling of the common room. Now that I had told someone the full extent of what had happened during that dark period in Willow Cress, out loud, to a somewhat sympathetic ear (totally untrue, for some reason she didn't even seem like she had been listening to a word I said until I finished talking about Brick and Avory) and all of my earlier aggravation towards my brother and Blossom had seemed to dissipate away, I just felt messed up. Proper messed up (because this was supposed to be over).
"Of course I am." She spoke, breaking me out of my thoughts, and then she turned back to her uncompleted Math homework on the table in front of us.
"Hey," I nudged at her arm, smiling at the back of her head. "Thanks for listening to my rant, Sunshine."
Buttercup nodded absentmindedly. "Anytime, Butch."
As I watched her loom over her papers, tapping her chin as she pondered over what excuse would be plausible enough for Mr Cavanaugh, I let our conversation sink in, and no matter how much I wanted to revel in the fact that I had told someone my side of the story, I was busy thinking of a different notion - and my chest was constricting because I had realised how worried I had been that Buttercup was going to hate me after hearing what had happened, but there was no sign of disdain in her tone or in her eyes or in her words.
She knew all the good and now she knew all the bad and she didn't judge me for it.
(She never judged me.)
~ Yay for the Green friendship! So this chapter was pretty wild. We got to hear more about Willow Cress, about Avory Gold and about how the Jojo brother's became so drifted apart. (High-five to anyone who figured out that it was Butch after reading about it in chapter eleven, in which Boomer muses over the past and the fact that his 'brothers were at war over a girl' and that had caused him to lose his sense of trust and end up back in Townsville where he reunited with Bubbles) And for those who were eager to see some Green-ness, you got some in this chapter. I apologize that this chapter is not written very well, I tried to get it all written quickly because I had a lot of others things to do this week, but hopefully you all still enjoyed reading, thank you! ~
Next Chapter - (Buttercup's Chapter) Fed up from the animosity between two of the Jojo brothers, Buttercup comes up with a master plot to help Brick and Butch see the light, and enlists Daisey's help to pull off her plan. Meanwhile, Blossom receives relationship advice from an unlikely source.
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