John Mason

I showed Archie how the shower worked then went downstairs with the vain hope of being able to tidy up a little. Blake was slouched in the sofa next to my brother, dozing or passed out. Joe was smoking something different now. He waved as I passed but I ignored it, rubbing the back of my neck. The tension in my shoulders was so great by back was throbbing, and the smoke was giving me a headache. I wandered over to the sink, searching around in the dirty washing up bowl for a cloth to clean the ashes off the table with. At least Joe had washed up, a task i'd been meaning to do for a few days now. I ran the tap and tipped out the murky water, waiting for it to turn hot; it would take longer as Archie was using the shower. Joe ambled in behind me, leaning back on the table and inspecting the calendar that hung underneath the clock. It was split into columns, labeled "Diane, Matthew, Jonathan, Joseph" so each member had a tiny slot next to each date. Joe's was crossed out in black sharpie.
"When did Diane go?" He asked curiously. We never called our parents mum or dad. I think it was easier for them if we called them by name, it meant they didn't feel as responsible for us. "Two weeks ago on friday." I replied, switching off the tap and moving to the table, trying to scrape up the ash.
"When's she back?" I peered round to see, squinting to make out the little rectangles under her name. There was writing in last tuesday's scribbled out and moved to thursday. Thursday's box had endured the same scribble, and the date had since been moved to yesterday, only to be crossed out and this time, in pencil, written in on this coming tuesday.
"God knows." I responded, trying not to sound too bitter. I should be used to it by now. Matthew had been gone for two weeks, due back in two more, but at least he stuck to the times. Joe hinted at the hurt in my tone and quickly discarded the subject. "Your boyfriend's cute." He grinned, glancing at me over his shoulder.
"I know." I replied, trying to bite down the large smile growing on my face. I wrung the newly blackeded cloth out over the sink, suppressing a yawn.
"Go to bed, J. I got it." Joe instructed as Blake shuffled in, eyes bloodshot but focusing.
"Night then." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and trudging upstairs, Blake following behind.

"There are spare rooms, or we can all crash in my room." I explained, leaning on the banister.
"You room." Blake grunted, ushering me into my own room. The shower was still running, I hope Archie isn't trying to drown himself. "I gotta show you- it came through 'bout 20 minutes ago.." Blake held up his phone, and I watched in anger. Why would anyone do that? To Archie?And why did he post it, for god's sake. The throbbing in my shoulders was joined by a sharp ache in my temple. "We'll deal with it tomorrow." I massaged my head uselessly. We all need to sleep now. Just as I finished the sentence Archie shuffled in, rubbing his eyes and yawning sleepily, towel trailing behind him. In the oversized shirt and shorts he looked tiny, and purple bruises were clear on his pale skin, contrasting dramatically with the angry red slashed and marks from the last attack. He pushed a handful of damp curls out of his eyes, only for them to tumble back down. Exhausted he climbed over the mattress on the floor(Blake's) into bed next to me, curling up instinctively. I pulled him closer, ignoring the slight cold from his damp hair.

Finch (Brandy)

I sighed as the cold water ran down my body, glazing over my thin arms. My hair fell over my eyes, dripping with icy water. There was a small photo in my bathroom, hidden behind the products on my cabinet. It was of a happy smiling girl, with bright eyes and a boy kissing her cheek, his black curls contrasting with her skin. I knew the boy, because I walked past him in the halls. I have memories of kissing this boy, locking fingers with him as we danced around the room, laughing.

I don't remember the girl. I'm that girl. But that girl in the photo is smiling. I'm not smiling. Why am I not smiling? I'm getting better. I'm not going to die. When people find out they are cancer-free, they smile, because things are getting better. When I found out that I wasn't going to die, I cried.

OOC: sorry it's really short but I've been performing all day, and I'm still at the theatre.

Blake Silverstein  The all too familiar Sunday Morning Hangover... what a f.u.cking pain in the @ss. My mouth was dry, like a desert, so were my eyes and my head- god my head- felt like it got hit with a hundred hammers.
I groaned as i turned on the mattress, taking in unfamiliar surroundings. Fancy house, good money. Hera maybe? But there's posters, clothes strewn across the floor... Looks more like a boys room. Probably Chris. Dad's gonna be mad that i didn't come home. I groaned again this time not from pain but at my own idiocy, and maybe fear but I'd never admit it. Then I craned my neck to the right, my eyesight a little foggy as i tried to focus on whoever was on the bed next to me. Slim, Blond curls, Amy?
God f.u.cking Archie. That f.u.cking queer guy.
Worry, fear and confusion suddenly flashed through my head, causing my headache to pound harder, what the hell happened? Hopefully not-
Then John came into the room, with a finger over his lips.
"Cmon. We need to talk."
His voice sounded ten times louder then it should have, every word banging around in my head like a loose screw. Then it came back to me, everything from last night.
"Yeah yeah sure whatever," I replied, my voice raspier then I would have liked. I shifted my weight, kicking the blankets off of the mattress. I'd slept in my clothes, was probably dead drunk. The noise in my head confirmed my suspicions. I followed john out the door, yawning loudly as i did.
Downstairs, kitchen island, fancy and modern.
"The video?" John whispered all of a sudden, half way through making a coffee, causing me to jump.
"Oh yeah the video yeah." I reached for my pocket, Pulling out the cracked phone, and unlocking it with my thumb.
"How many people have seen it?" john asked nervously as he sat on the stool beside me. His hands were shaking almost as much as mine.
"maybe 20 people on the group chat. More will when they wake up, and lots of people screenshotted it. So its-" the painful pounding in my head caused my voice to fail me, but i continued, "It's impossible to tell how many people have seen it really."
John sighed, a long dragged out one and buried his face into his hands. I put a comforting arm around him
"Hey it's gonna be alright. If anything this will hurt Beanpole more then Archie." I whispered.
"hello?" Came a voice from behind us and i turned around awkwardly, peering over john's shoulder. Archie. I immediately took my arm off of John, my face flashing red hot. I didn't know why but perhaps Archie wouldn't like it.
"I heard you two talking like it was the end of the world, whats going on?"
Beside my john gulped and I tensely grabbed my phone off of him. "He needs to know John. better he finds out from us then anyone else." John nodded.
"What the hell's going on?" Archie, annoyed.
I held out my phone, waiting for his reaction.

Archie Harris

"That's so inconvenient.." I moaned, butting my head into John's shoulder, embarrassed.
"Not the reaction I expected." Blake mumbled, taking his phone back. I shrugged, doubting the school's ability to make my life any harder. "Worst they can do is repaint my locker. I hope Brandon doesn't get it too hard though." I hate him a little for what he tried to do; it was mortifying, but I honestly don't think he knew he was doing anything wrong. I think he's just very, very afraid.
"Unbelievable, you are." John poked me in the ribs, reaching over for a slice of toast.
"Someone's just uploaded it to facebook." Blake updated, reaching out for the butterknife and accidentally sticking his fingers in the jam. Regret stabbed my heart as I thought of my mother walking up to find a social media catastrophe and an inbox full of 'concerned' parents, undoubtedly the same parents that whispered about her when dad left and she was pregnant with Andrew. I'd have to tell her.
"As long as it doesn't bother you..." John inspected me carefully but subtly, making sure I was really ok and not just lying.
"Shhh." Blake hissed from his new position at the sink, scraping jam of his hand with a spoon.
"Blake, what are you doing you complete kettle." John rushed over shaking his head. He turned the tap on, and Blake watched in amazement as the water washed the jam right off. I looked at them questioningly.
"Hangover." They replied in unison.

Ray Fon

With the feeling of nothing on the right side of my torso, I woke up with a jump, almost falling off the bed. I regained my balance immediately and let out a deep breath before looking over my shoulder. Karma was hogging up most of the bed, still asleep. So that's why half of my body was hanging over the side of the mattress.
I stood from the bed and walked over to my mask, which was on the other side of the room. Picking it up and putting it on, I walked downstairs to my kitchen to grab a small breakfast. Eating wasn't something I was very fond of. I glanced at the clock...
...
Like I said, eating wasn't something I was very fond of.
Especially at six in the morning.
I looked behind me, wanting to go back to bed. The average person should at least get eight hours of sleep... Well, I guess I kind of did, since I slept at ten last night...
Or was it ten-thirty? Sh!t...
I heard someone walking down the stairs with heavy steps, and my eyes moved to my dad. He was all dressed in a suit with a large suitcase, just like every other day. "Ray, why are you up this early? I thought you'd be sleeping in every weekend."
I shrugged, not wanting to let him know that we had a visitor he never knew about. My dad expected my family to tell him everything since he believes that intelligence was the best thing to have while you're still alive. He would say that intelligence equals more money, and more money equals happiness. I guess that's partially true...
He opened the front door. I guess he already ate breakfast. "Before you ask, I now work from seven in the morning to eleven at night." He stepped forward to leave, but I grabbed his arm and softly tugged him back.
"Dad, you're not getting enough sleep!" I tried to make my voice louder, but my throat felt dry. "You're getting less than seven hours of sleep! Why are you doing longer work shifts?"
"Son, money is very important-"
"And health too!" I cut him off before he could tell me another one of his lasting lectures. "Dad, if you don't get enough sleep, you'll lack concentration and you might get some serious health problems! It's a fact that sleep deprivation can cause strokes, heart attacks, heart failure, diabetes-"
His cold hand touched my cheek, and, despite the fact that my mask stopped his fingers from actually touching my skin, a shiver slithered down my spine. He looked at me with his dark blue eyes, the dark crescents beneath the two orbs proof of his lack of sleep. He stared at me for a lasting while and I felt uncomfortable with the taller man looming above me. Breaking the silence, he said, "You cover your beautiful eyes with that blank mask of yours and you hardly have any friends. When will you take it off?"
I frowned at his question. The question that I will never answer, the question that makes me shut up. Once again, I pushed his hand away and turned my back towards him, walking back to the kitchen. The front door slammed shut, telling me that I was free to cry without humiliating myself in front of dad. I took off my mask and walked to the sink, letting my tears drip into the drain. My head was spinning with stress. He's always working too hard. Everyday, he gets up so early, coming back home so late. Sometimes, he doesn't come home at all and that worries me. Ever since I learnt the problems of sleep deprivation, I've been more scared for the safety of my dad. Why can't he just work for just six hours, not sixteen? Sixteen is so long, for f.u.ck's sake, and he isn't just awake for sixteen hours. The place where he works is thirty minutes far, so the travel to there and back would be one hour. The thing is, he wakes up thirty minutes before he leaves, so... one hour plus sixteen hours plus thirty minutes...holy sh!t, seventeen hours and thirty minutes?! He only get's at least six hours and thirty minutes of sleep! Sometimes he has trouble sleeping, too...
The thinking made me want to cry more, so I did. I struggled to control my breathing and to make my crying silent, in case I awaken mum or Karma. Closing my eyes, I wished for my dad to have a safe work day, like usual.
Why can't he spend time with his family more often?
Why can't he take a rest?

Blake Silverstein Sorry its short af

laughter. genuine laughter, like music to my ears. No fear of backstabbing or struggles for power. Only union, even during this time of rumours and videos.
With all the commotion with Archie over the past day I had actually managed to forget about Aidan, which was a guilty pleasure, but i was thankful for the distraction. I was in awe of Archie, even if i didn't like to admit it. he kept soldiering on. The kid i used to bully for being weak, was in fact stronger then I could ever hope to be. Normally a realisation like this would make me angry, make me want to get back into control-always with the control- but this time it was different. this time I felt proud of him.
And I watched him and John sitting together on the couch, laughing and giggling as they fought over who got to be player one and I wondered if I'd ever get to be as happy as them.
Today was a Sunday. Normally I'd be at the skate park with Brandon -god Brandon- and Reid but i didn't feel up for it, it wasn't just the hangover, I just didn't want to see them, I felt more at home and comfortable here then i ever did with them.
'Lets do something." i said absent mindedly out of the blue. They both turned to look at me, confused.
"Sure." archie replied and turned off the giant flat screen TV. "What do you want to do."
then it came to me. An idea, and maybe one that isn't all that bad.
"Lets find Brandon." 

Archie Harris  "But, you promised not to hurt any more people-" I struggled to sit up straight in alarm, untangling my limbs from John's. Blake was watching thoughtfully, a half smile wavering as I criticised his idea.
"No, not to like, hurt," He explained, moving his hands to explain. "To, talk to. That's what you want, right?" He double checked, waiting for my uncertain nod before he continued. "He's still sort of my mate, I don't want him to be scared of me. He wasn't always bad..." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, like he expected us to laugh at him. John straightened up in interest, doubt etched clearly over his face.
"Are we really sure Brandon can change?" He asked, in the form of a rhetorical question. He tried to remain neutral, but he was already picking fault with the plan. Anger flashed over Blake's face.
"He deserves the chance, don't you think?" He retorted, voice raised. I smiled foolishly, unexplainably proud that Blake had controlled his anger so well.
"I do." I agreed, shifting position. "But i'm still scared." I admitted, breaking eye contact in shame. John quickly tilted my head back up, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"If it's going to help you, Arch, then I'll come with you and protect you." He kissed my cheek reassuringly. "Thought I doubt i'll be much use, and you should probably rely more heavily on Blake," He added, causing me to giggle. I drew a shaky breath, forcing myself to keep smiling.
"Let's go then!"

Blake Silverstein We walked slowly, towards a destination I was all to familiar of. Brandon's place. Although the circumstances of our visit were dark, I couldn't help but look forward to seeing Beanpole, he was an entertaining friend despite his flaws. that was putting it lightly.
I glanced over at Archie, he said he was okay with going but I knew from his clenched fists that he wasn't as confident as he liked us to think.
'you okay?" John asked for the millionth time and Archie nodded quickly, staring at his shoes. we neared the house, a small enough one with peaceful looking white picket fences. A friendly sight. I walked up to the door, hand hesitating over the doorbell, but I rung it. I couldn't help but feel like I was going to betray Beanpole, or that i already have and facing him like this would just confirm it. We waited. No one answered and panic suddenly leapt into my mind, Brandon had been pretty reckless last night, the sort of reckless that only comes from people who weren't going to face the consequences, what if-
the door opened, causing all three of us to jump back slightly and brandon's mom peered over at us from the small opening.
"Oh hey Blake! Its a little early don't you think?" She asked, her face lighting up when she saw me. relief flushed over me, obviously nothing drastic had happened. none that she knew of anyway
"Yeh sorry 'bout that Mrs. Murphy. Is Brandon home?"
She nodded and opened the door, blabbing about someone in the neighbourhood to me but i paid no notice.
"We actually need to see him outside, tell him to meet us at the green?" I asked, i didn't want her to hear us. That would break her heart. "Sure!" she said and Archie, John and I made our way to the small patch of grass in the centre of the estate.

Archie Harris  I tried to be friendly to Brandon's mum without looking her in the eye. I couldn't help but feel she would be angry at me, for somehow provoking her son. John was standing so we were always in contact, and Blake asked if we could meet outside, obviously upsetting Mrs Murphy, on my behalf. They were both trying hard to be reassuring, and it convinced me to try and pull myself together. I ignored the dryness in my mouth as Brandon stumbled down the steps, hair disheveled and still in what looked like Pajamas. He waved at Blake in greeting, fear flashing in his eyes. He didn't seem to notice us two. John pulled me back a little, trying to maintain this. "Blake!" He greeted, uncertainty on the edge of his tone. "How ya doin?" He edged closer, like a dog moving towards a alligator to see if it will bite. I tensed, also unsure of how Blake would react. He was wearing a confident grin, reminiscent of a cat when it catches a bird.
"Hey, buddy!" He replied, voice sure, genuine. Brandon still didn't get to close, watching every movement Blake made. "Why you here?" He asked, trying to sound casual. His eyebrows furrowed as his voice rose, giving away the fear. "We-" Blake triumphantly gestured to me and John, in a way you would present something actually impressive, "Wanted to chat about that video you posted."
As soon as the word 'video' left Blake's moth Brandon was alert and defensive. "I- it was just a joke, man, Blake, I wasn't, Not actually- C'mon, Blake, you know-" His voice started to tremble as Blake stepped up to him, and I realised I was holding my breath. A shout caught in my throat as Blake raised a hand, only to grab Brandon's arm and steady him.
"Beanpole, calm down. I know you weren't joking, so don't lie." Brandon opened his mouth to protest, shooting me a look soaked in fear and pain, sorrowful at my betrayal of him. "It's fine, though. It's ok that you, yaknow, like ..guys. I don't care. But you hurt Archie, here, and you gott apologise."