Things I'll Never Say

Airy: Ladiess and Gents,

Please forgive me and resist all urges to kick my ass for being so

damn lazy. Eheh, back on track now.


Chapter Four, For The First Time

Bryan pushed his suitcase off of his bed. It thunked as it made contact with the ground, but he did not care. peeling off his navy t-shirt, he lay on the soft bed, chin resting on his folded arms.

Tala glanced at his friend, meanwhile stocking the closet with their clothes, "And what may I ask, is bothering you?"

Bryan closed his eyes blissfully, "Tired to hell."

"If you intend to go to hell, then wait until after the supper. I hear the chefs are pretty decent. Damn." Tala swore suddenly, as he spilt his Dr. Pepper drink by accident. The drink landed darkened the plush carpet.

Not really caring, the lavender eyed young man put on a different shirt and was about to exit the room, gripping the door, but stopped to gaze at his friend, "I'm going someplace, Tala, but it's not hell."

Tala sneered, "You're in Biovolt." Bryan cocked an eyebrow, "You're a lifelong soldier, bud, have been for your seventeen years, and will be for your next eighty of so." He spread his arms out, "You're in, Bryan. But you'll never get out."

Bryan did not reply. He just left, closing the door behind him.


Neautral expression, eyes wide, with face resting in her hand, Mariah gazed at the other side of the room, "Where does he put it all."

Hilary flipped a peice of brown hair behind her ear, "Beyond me." She glared at him, "Some people have all the luck."

Mariah nodded. Tyson ate alot, and was most called 'fat pig' but those who accepted the truth knew that just by looking at him, he had to weight less than 112.

"Ladies." Enrique greeted, seating himself by the two girls, his toothpaste-commercial smile giving off its practiced vibe of magnetism.

"Daww, look Hil, Enreekee-kins is finally old enough to be without his babysitter. How cute." Mariah cooed.

Enrique smirked, "Guess what else he's old enough for?"

Hilary slapped his arm from across the table, "Don't you have someplace to be?"

The blond shrugged, "Wherever any to die for beauty lingers, that shall be my destination."

"And you probably find it hard to peel yourself away from the mirror?"

"Eh! What can I say? Some people have all the luck... Good thing I'm one of them."

Smiling and pushing some mashed potatoes around with her fork, Mariah thought about the days happening, and the things to happen ahead of her. She almost didn't notice the sweet smell of something floating beneath her nose.

Lifting her head, she look for the source.

"Oliver?" The petite majestic turned to her, magenta eyes kind, "What exactly is that?"

Glancing at the drink held gracefully in his head, he answered a name which she could not repeat.

"Don't tell me that's english.

He smiled, "Its just another word for Juice and a little bit of Alchohol."

"Alchohol? As in... alchohol?"

"Correct." He tilted the delicated glass back and forth between his finger, "Would you like some?"

"Lee wouldn't let me. He'd lock me up, and knock your lights out."

"hey," Olvier admitted, "Just offering."

Tilting her head and squinting her eyes lightly, she reconsidered, "Her, nevermind, sure, I'd absolutely love some."

Passing her the drink, he picked up another drink beside him, lifting it up, "To 'hope your brother does not find this out'."

Giggling, she clinked glasses with his, before putting the drink before her lips.


She tripped, colliding with her door.

"Ow!" She laughed, "That's paaaaiiiiiin." chuckling a bit more, she pushed the door open. She wasn't drunk, no. Just a little more tipsy and giggly. 'Funny' she thought, 'I thought I locked it.'

Sighing loudly, she stepped into the dark room. Everyone was sleeping, as it appeared and she did not turn the lights on. Humming slightly to herself, she sat on her bed, legs dangling over the edge it was so big. still humming, she pulled off her top, revealing a tight light pink spagheti string top underneath. Throwing the top carelessly onto the ground, she started on her second, but stopped. The had the tank top pulled inches above her ribcage, but she dared not pull any further. Breathing lightly on the other bed, was not Hilary, but thick red, winged hair. It was not her bed shet sat on, nor was it her room.

Nor was that a roommate of hers that opened the door.


Duke: Good job, neh?
Airy: Ahaha, that's Duke, my friends. The hero that pulled me out of this writing block. APLAUSE FOR HER! Until next time,

Ciao,
Diligodea