name Charolette (Char) Reynoldsage 20looksname Mason Stylesage 22looks (on the left)
name Grayson Walkerage 24appearance name Devon Armondage 20appearance
(If you prefer first person just let me know and I can start on my next post!!)charSo far it was a pretty normal day in the life for Charlotte Reynolds. She woke up at 7:30. Went to a shoot for Brandy Melville, which she has recently become the face of. Met with some of the higher-ups at Victoria’s Secret, and now has her eyes set on a pair of angel wings for the future. Then she went to the gym and did an hour and a half of cardio. Because, let’s be honest, no models are lifting weights when they go to the gym, that would ruin the whole skinny/borderline bony look they’ve got going on. Then she tanned on the balcony of her LA rooftop apartment until she got the text from Crystal Hacker, her agent who arguably put Char on the map, which demanded she come into the office immediately. Char, grudgingly, packed up her towel and tanning oil and headed back into her apartment. She showered very quickly, deciding it was in her best interest to not keep Crystal waiting. She already seemed to be in trouble for something, again, so she didn’t want to dig herself into an even deeper hole. Within minutes Char was standing in front of her full length mirror, putting on her outfit of choice. Char is probably the most fashion challenged model you will ever meet, so there she stood, in her giant LA Kings hockey t shirt (her favorite team) with little shorts that made it look like she wasn’t even wearing shorts to begin with. She shoved her feet into some Adidas sneakers, pushed her Ray Bans onto her face, and then she was off. Charlotte pulled into her modeling agency, Next Models Worldwide, and hopped out her brand new Range Rover and tossed the keys to the valet guy. Char had just turned 20 last week and her Range Rover, which she named Johnathan, was her expensive birthday present to herself. She walked into the extravagant headquarters and went up to the fourth floor, where Crystal was waiting for her in her office. Char plopped down into the chair in front of the desk, and starting chowing into Haagen Daas coffee ice cream. Crystal knows Charlotte well enough at this point to know if you want Char to be quiet while you talk about serious matters, you’ve got to give her ice cream. Crystal threw down on the desk, in front of Char, a magazine with Char on the cover. Charlotte was throwing back a shot with an older guy, who was probably around thirty, and who actually happened to be a hockey player from the LA Kings. A married hockey player at that. The Headline was something about “Reynolds out of Control”. Char looked at the magazine, not very interested as she scooped some more ice cream into her mouth. “Yeah, it was my birthday,” Char finally said, figuring Crystal wasn’t going to talk until given an explanation. “Hardly out of control if you ask me,” she scoffed, pushing the magazine away and leaning back in her chair. “That is the same creep who tried to contact you on Twitter when you were 16, Charlotte. And you shouldn’t even be drinking anyways, but definitely not in public! It’s becoming an endless cycle of you partying, not coming home, not showing up to meetings and castings. You’re in the public eye, young girls look up to you, you cannot do this! We have worked way too hard over the past five years to throw it all away because you have a, I don’t know, drinking problem!” Char started at her in disbelief. “A drinking problem?! It was my fucki-“ she was cut off with a very angry glare.“I like to go out,” Char finally said, to defend herself. And it was true, she in no way, shape, or form had a drinking problem, she just liked to party and find a lil trouble. You know, to keep her life interesting. “You’re putting yourself in dangerous situations, that’s what you’re doing. So the agency as a whole, and I, have decided to invest in getting you a body guard.” Char, again, stared at her uninterested. “I don’t want one. Nor do I need a glorified babysitter.” Crystal rubbed her temples, agitated. “Don’t call him that, he’s here to protect you and keep you safe. Because let’s face it, you need all the help you can get.”**masonDay twelve of living in this hell hole. Mason couldn’t even justify being here. He had one anxiety attack. One. And somehow that justified the need for him to get mental help. Granted, it had been a pretty severe anxiety attack that landed him in the psych ward of the hospital but here, he was surrounded by actual crazies, at least that’s what he called them. He hadn’t made productive conversation with any of the other patients in the twelve days of him living there. Everyone he attempted to talk to was either too nervous to talk, or just way too freaking weird for Mason’s tolerance. Mason wasn’t a super talkative guy, but he has learned he’s missing human interaction. So much, in fact, it’s come to the point of him talking to the lunch ladies. And as far as they’re concerned, he’s just another crazy so they have absolutely no interest in entertaining him. So there he sat, alone in the lunch area, eating his peanut butter sandwich. Not peanut butter and jelly, just peanut butter. Ever since he was little he just couldn’t understand the concept of putting something like peanut butter and jelly together in one sandwich. So he picked his favorite of the two, which is peanut butter, and has eaten it pretty much every day since he was a little kid. He looked around the room, in pure boredom. His eyes landed on a girl across the room. For the life of him he couldn’t remember her name. And she was staring at him. So, Mason stared back at her. Usually, at least in the real world, if you catch someone looking at you, and then you look at them, they usually give in and look away. Not this girl, however. So Mason was the first to drop his gaze and go back to eating his lunch. He only had one real encounter with that girl across the room. It was a few days ago, he had bumped into her, and when he apologized his hand was on the small of her back. That was it. That was the only time he could remember talking to her or just interacting with her in general. Come to think of it, every time he’s seen her, she’s staring at him.Then he got a little self-conscious. Was something obviously wrong with him? Is that why people aren’t talking to him? He looked over at her again, and she was still staring. And almost immediately his self-consciousness disappeared. There was nothing wrong this him, it was her. He wasn’t the crazy one here, everyone else was. He looked away from the girl again, feeling nothing but irritation towards her. This situation was bad and inconvenient enough as is, and now he’s got this girl making everything all the more annoying. He glanced at her, one more time, giving her one last chance to look away, but nope. He picked up his plate and empty drink, walking over to the trashcan to throw it away. He was about to head back to his room, but then he stopped in the doorway, turned around, and strode over to the table the girl was at. He sat down in the chair in front of her. “What the hell do you want?” he asked, his tone definitely bitter and impatient.
(view spoiler)[wow so I'm feeling really not confident at all in that post I just wrote xD. Your writing is sOOO FREAKING great and has me sosososo excited. I hope this is up to par cx I made Devon really obsessive and awkward (hide spoiler)]graysonJust another day of going through the motions.Grayson put his heart and soul into his job. There was nothing else for him to dedicate himself into. Every morning, he did the same things. Woke up at 5:00. Completed his typical exercise regimine of push-ups. Went for a run. Showered. Forced down a health shake. A routine allowed Grayson to have a sense of normalcy, something he desperately needed. It was the only way he could keep his cool, and function at his best. He perched on a stool, his arms resting comfortably on the counter. That was a check on the health shake. The drinks tastes like shit--but they were healthy, and that's what mattered. His daily activities reeked of a health freak, even his occupation suggested that he cared deeply about the health of others. The truth was, Grayson didn't give a shit about the people he watched over. He was just there to do his job. That was all. There were to be zero non-professional interactions in his line of work. Today would be no different. Gray had been given a new assignment, some pampered model who was being a little too wild. He was not a babysitter. However, duty called. As per usual, Gray would complete his job to the best of his ability, but this assignment would be an incredible pain in the ass. Gray would not be doing this job with a smile.A phone call from his boss, Adam Grant, disturbed his thoughts. "Grayson," His monotone voice responded, an expression of boredom freezing on his face. "Gray, you're due for your meeting with Ms. Reynolds this morning. Please, arrive on time and on your best behavior." Sarcasm dripped from Adam's voice on the other line. Gray was never late, and he never let the blockade that his his emotions fall. "Of course Adam, I'll speak with you later," Gray pulled the phone from his ear, but Adam wouldn't let him go. "One more thing Grayson, you'll be with her twenty four hours a day. I mean it." Silence from Grayson. "Good bye Adam."He pulled on a pair of jeans, a tight white v-neck, and tousled his hair. The outfit wasn't exactly the easiest maneuverability in an emergency situation, but Gray wasn't expecting to have to react to any serious circumstances with this girl. Ever. He looked down at his watch, 8:36. The meeting was scheduled for 9:00. Gray took the subway. Certainly wasn't his preferred method of travel, too many people, too many things that could run awry. His car was out of commission currently, so he had no other options. He was constantly glancing at his watch. Meaningless worries like time countered more frightening ones. The subway arrived at 8:49, leaving him approximately eleven minutes to make it to "Next Models Worldwide". Gray pushed through the early morning crowds that scattered the sidewalks. Another downside of not having his car. The occasional "Watch where you're going!" didn't deter him. This was his mission--this girl, whatever her name was. Gray hadn't bothered to look at her file. Her personal life didn't matter to him. All that mattered was keeping her safe, and how much danger could a spoiled model really be in?"Grayson Walker, here to see Crystal Hacker." He reported into the front desk, once again checking his watch as he waited. He had two minutes to spare. Gray cracked his knuckles, the satisfying crunch of his bones easing his worries. If there was one activity that Gray truly enjoyed, it was fighting. A good fight, the rush he got when beating some weak wimp to a pulp was a high unlike any other. Fighting was his drug of choice. He seriously doubted that any fights would come out of this assignment. It was going to be a boring few months--or however long he was assigned to her. Again, he hadn't bothered to read the file."Miss Hacker will see you now." Gray took in a short breath, and stepped into the elevator. The fourth floor. Grayson knocked on the door briefly, before stepping in. There she was. His assignment, scarfing down some ice cream. He was utterly disgusted. Didn't she know how unhealthy was? She was a model, no less. He cleared his throat. "Grayson Walker. It's a pleasure to meet you." There was no pleasure in it at all. He assumed the older woman was Crystal, and politely offered her his hand. "I apologize if I interrupted something." He eyed the scandalous magazine on the table between the two.devonA dependent personality disorder.That was what led to Devon being shipped off to the center. Life was easier at the center; in fact, Devon adored her life at the center. People constantly doting on her and looking after her. There were no decisions to be made. She never had to be alone. She'd been deemed unfit to care for herself, especially after the "terrible" situation she'd been found in. Bruises coating her ribcage, tracing her neck like a choker. They said that people with her "disorder" were taken advantage of, that they tolerated abuse and mistreatment from others. Devon hadn't been abused by Cameron, her now ex-boyfriend. He just got upset sometimes, and felt guilty and said sorry right away. Devon had accepted his apologies with a smile. After an especially violent display in public, both Devon and Cameron had been put under investigation. Boom. Here she was, and she'd felt lost without Cameron. Devon didn't know what had become of Cameron. The devastation she felt at the lack of his presence was overwhelming and uncontrollable. She hated them for separating her from Cameron, but at the same time, the center was a sanctuary. There were so many people available to take care of her every need. Despite this, it was difficult to not have one person to focus all of her attention on. This issue had been under construction as of twelve days ago. Devon had her eye on someone who might as well have strolled straight out of her dreams.Literally. Her bright brown eyes rested comfortably on the object of her affections. Mason Styles. The name sent chills down her spine. She'd paid attention the first day when his name had been called, the usual role call they did every day, just to make sure everyone who was supposed to be in a room was there, and no outliers were present. He was definitely an outlier in her eyes. Mason stuck out like a sore thumb, there was no one in the room but him and her. It was their little world, or at least hers. He ate his sandwich so agonizingly slowly. Devon chewed her own sandwich absentmindedly, barely pecking at the bread. Her gaze never left his crouched figure. He was beautiful, and he was her world.His eyes lifted from the food in his hands, and instantly turned to her. Devon felt so self-conscious, why was he looking at her? Was she doing something wrong? Her eyes flitted briefly to her sandwich, recognizing the fact that she had barely picked at the contents, just the edges of the bread. She didn't even know what the sandwich contained, it was part of what the center helped so greatly with. Zero decisions to be made. Zilch. Zip. Zero. A second later, her eyes returned to Mason, he had looked away, but once again his eyes returned to her.A thought flashed through Devon's mind. Was it possible that he was experiencing the same overpowering feelings that she was? Considering the lack of confidence Devon had instilled in herself, she seriously doubted it. Still, she felt like as though she was glowing. She was the sun, or a candle, it didn't really matter, the point was that Mason made her happy. Regardless of whether or not the feelings were returned, his eyes on her made her blood rush, the floor drifted around her, a sort of vertigo feeling. The blonde was close to her breaking point when Mason approached her table and plopped down in front of her.The words that came from his mouth weren't exactly what she would have expected, but she also would have never expected him to approach her in the first place. Devon clasped her hands under the table, anything to cease the trembling which had begun to take over her body. He was here. Right in front of her, if she had wanted to, which she did, she could have just reached across and laid a hand on his cheek. Lost was one word to describe the overwhelming emotions she was experiencing. "I-I'm Devon," she stammered, which was hardly a response to his accusing question. "Did you enjoy your sandwich?" she asked softly, her eyes darting between Mason and the trashcan nearby. Truly, she didn't know what to say. How the hell was she supposed to answer a question like that? What did she want, she wanted him. Intuition told her that was not an appropriate response.It slipped out anyways, as Devon had very little self-control, "I want you." Her voice had somehow managed a strange firmness in her statement. A crimson blush spread up her neck, flushing her cheeks. "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm saying, honestly," She laughed nervously, raising one hand to twist a strand of blonde hair. "Is what I said okay?" She needed some kind of reassurance. Even if she wouldn't get it, she had to try. In the real world, blurting out something as intimate as she had would have been highly inappropriate. But in here? She hoped not.
(view spoiler)[are u kidding me your post was absolutely stunning I keep reading it over and over!! I haven’t been this excited about a roleplay in so frickin long ITS GOING TO BE GREAT!! Devon is the cutest thing omg I love her (hide spoiler)]char“Is he coming soon?” Char complained, adjusting herself in the chair. It turned into a very unprofessional position but Charlotte has known Crystal for years. Crystal was practically a second mom to her, since her own mother was back home in Atlanta, Georgia. That doesn’t mean Char likes Crystal, in fact she finds a lot of joy in annoying Crystal. But, Char doesn’t have much in the way of friends here in LA. People in the fashion industry and other models drive Char crazy. Gigi Hadid? Annoying as hell. Kendall Jenner? Talentless and has no personality. Selena Gomez? Just no. So Char will go out and party at random clubs but if you look closely, she’s never with friends. She just knows a lot of people. Crystal rolled her eyes at the impatience and instead focused on her computer. She looked to be reading some sort of email, or article, or something. “He’ll be here in ten minutes. His boss assured me this guy is one of his very best.” Charlotte spooned some more ice cream into her mouth. “Wouldn’t this kind of be a waste of a good bodyguard then?” Crystal gave her another look. Char always gets looks like that. No one treats her like a twenty year old. But, let’s face it, Char doesn’t really act like a twenty year old. “You should just do yourself a favor and tolerate the guy. He’s not there to be your friend, you don’t have to get along. But he will be with you all the time so just come to terms with it now,” Crystal said as she tapped away at her keyboard, doing God knows what. Char’s mouth was slightly open in disbelief as she processed the information. “So he’s not even a baby sitter, he’s going to be like my dad.” Crystal opened her mouth to scold Charlotte, but Char beat her to it. “How old is this guy? Do you know anything about him? This is fucking stupid, I refuse.” Char had readjusted herself, again, in the seat so she was sitting normally and leaning forward. “This isn’t a suggestion, Charlotte, your contract with this agency will be dissolved if you refuse. You can’t keep going the way you’re going, we are doing this with your best interest in mind.” Now Charlotte was heated. “I don’t need this agency I could walk out of here and get Wilhemina or Next Miami on the phone in a heartbeat. You’re the one who needs-“ Char was cut off by the office phone ringing. Crystal answered without hesitation. “Ah, yes! Send him right up.” She put down the phone and gave Char a hard stare. “You will be polite with him. This isn’t going to be a forever type arrangement.” Charlotte ran her fingers through her hair, an angry habit of hers. “How long is it for then? Because I’m already over it.” Crystal answered simply, “As soon as you get better.” Again, Char raked her fingers through her damp hair, moving to the edge of her seat. “Well if he’s not going to let me do anything, I’ll be better within a day.”Crystal was saved from having to answer once there was a knock on the door to her office. “Come in!” she chirped, in her fake-polite voice she uses with people she’s trying to make a good impression on. She was also eager to get someone else in the room so she didin’t have to be alone with Charlotte much longer, who was giving looks of her own, now. Char didn’t even bother turning around to look as the door opened. She just ate a little more ice cream. Crystal stood to greet him and shake his hand from across the desk. “Oh, no, you weren’t interrupting anything at all,” she assured him, still using the fake, slightly high pitched voice. “You may take a seat, if you’d like,” she offered, motioning to the chair right next to Charlotte. Crystal discretely tried to remove the magazine out of view, in fear of exposing her most successful client to anyone. Even though it was on a nationally headlined magazine, and millions of people have already seen the now famous picture of Charlotte downing a shot with a hockey player. But that’s just how petty fashion people are: petty and obsessed with image. Char finally decided to take a look at her body guard. He definitely looked the part, she had to give him that. “And this is Charlotte Reynolds,” Crystal said once she accepted Char had no interest of introducing herself. Crystal cleared her throat, obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable due to her difficult client, who was still enjoying her ice cream. “Do you have any questions, Mr. what was it? Walker?” masonMason flinched away from her when she reached out to touch his cheek. What the hell? Mason has never been good at giving or accepting affectionate gestures from loved ones, much less from crazy strangers. Has Mason had girlfriends? Of course. There was even a girl he dated for about two years. She’s irrelevant now and those two years were the longest of Mason’s life. He likes, or rather, liked, the single life. One night stands with no strings attached had become the entirety of Mason’s love life, if you can even call it that. And Mason didn’t feel that he was missing out at all. Why have one woman when you could have a new one every weekend? And then continue to go about your life that very next day. He had been living the dream, as far as he was concerned, until he ended up here. Devon. Now he remembers. He had heard her name a few times in roll call, but he had never connected the name to face until now. Devon was a pretty girl, stunning even. And if her staring wasn’t so off-putting, Mason would probably try to hit that. You know, if they weren’t in a mental health center. But, they are in a mental health center. And her staring is very off-putting. So the possibility of the two of them being together never even began to cross Mason’s mind. He just wanted to know why she was staring, he didn’t want, or care to, know anything else about her. But she just ignored his initial question altogether. “Um, alright,” Mason said when she introduced herself. He didn’t bother saying his name. He wasn’t aware that she already knew his name though. First and last. He had no idea about her disorder. He knew nothing about her. Well, aside from the fact her name is Devon and she seems to be pretty freaking weird. Now she’s asking about his sandwich. If they were friends, Mason probably wouldn’t have thought much about that. In almost any other situation, that could be seen as friendly small talk. But this girl had a weird vibe to her. And the staring along with the fact she obviously has something wrong with her to be in a place like this, made Mason want to keep this little chat short. So, no, he wouldn’t be giving any sort of answer about his sandwich. It was just a peanut butter sandwich, after all. Which he made by getting two PB&J sandwiches, separating them, and then sticking the two peanut butter sides together. Because let’s be honest, the lunch ladies weren’t taking any special requests. Well, she finally answered his question. Mason just stared at her for a moment. Is she being serious? Or was just messing with him? She wanted him? Now all he could think of what he could have possibly done to put himself in this situation. Before today, he had only said one word to her. That’s it. He started to shake his head slightly. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with this girl. “No, what you said is not okay. You can’t just-“ Mason shook his head again. He shouldn’t have to be explaining to this grown girl why that was the wrong thing to say. It was way too intimate, way too serious, and just way out of the blue. He looked her over again, for a moment, just trying to understand why she would say weird things like that. She seemed to hardly be eating her food, he noticed that much. Maybe she’s just delusional or mistaking him for someone else. He decided his expectations were set too high and he needs to just accept he will never ever make a friend in this place. He just needed to focus on getting out. He could not focus on people like Devon, who obviously had problems of their own they should be focusing on.“Alright, Devon. Can you do me a favor?” Mason asked her, talking to her like you would to a child. He wasn’t doing that to be sweet or gentle. He didn’t give a crap if he hurt her feelings somehow. Her feelings shouldn’t be hurt in the first place, this is not his fault whatsoever. It’s Devon’s. For being so strange. “I’m going to need you to not stare at me anymore. It makes me uncomfortable. Can you do that?” he asked, keeping his hands under the table and away from her. Mason wanted nothing to do with her. And he wanted to make that obvious, right now.
(view spoiler)[omg thank you so much, I did the same with yours <3 and ackkk I adore Char's personality, I can't wait for all the cute times ahead for her and Gray <33 I also can't wait for her to tick him off and him to lose his cool xD. I'm sooo in love with Mason already omg. I hadn't been on this site in a year+ and made a new account because of my hiatus, but this has me sooo excited and wishing I'd come back a lot sooner. Just to let you know though, and this is absolutely murdering my soul, I have finals this week and some end of the year projects so I'll be pretty on and off until I'm out of school. I will definitely be trying to respond to you whenever I have free time though. Thank you so much for your patience (hide spoiler)]
(view spoiler)[Thank you so so much for your patience <3 I finish school on Monday! I have another day of finals tomorrow, and then another day on Monday and that's it! c: Thank you so much for wishing me good luck! All I have this summer is tutoring (me tutoring this freshman boy xD, not me being tutored) and babysitting, and then I may or may not get a job otherwise. Ackkk I'm so in love with Mason, and Charlotte is so great. I cannot wait to see how you respond! I wasn't totally sure what to do with Grayson, and I'm still figuring out Devon's personality, so here is my responseeee (hide spoiler)]graysonGray's first impression of his female assignment was not a good one. She, Charlotte Reynolds, didn't bother trying to introduce herself. Her sole focus was on the ice cream, though she did unlock her eyes from the carton to look at him for just a moment. Gray returned her gaze passively. Sure, she was gorgeous, but all models were. Her blue doe eyes have off the aura of innocence, but judging from the magazine, she was far from innocent. Charlotte was very pretty compared to your average girl, and he may or may not have been attracted to her. Despite her beauty, Grayson simply didn't sustain any type of relationship. Even something brief and non-committal as a one-night stand was a no for him. It wasn't that there were no opportunities--there were plenty--Gray simply wasn't interested. He had continuously made that perfectly clear to the opposite sex."Grayson Walker," He responded, clearing his throat roughly. "As long as the terms are entirely clear, and both you and Miss Reynolds have no questions for me, I believe we are good to go." His eyes turned from Miss Hacker to the desperate consumption of ice cream via Charlotte. "Are you ready to go, Miss Reynolds?" Gray didn't wait for an answer, there was no reason to. "I'll be waiting outside, for you to be ready." His hands shifted into his pockets uncomfortably. He gave Miss Hacker a slight nod, and exited the room. Already, this assignment was painful. Gray couldn't begin to fathom just how frustrating it may turn out to be.Waiting was agonizing enough. Once Charlotte emerged from the room, Gray straightened from the wall he had been leaning against. "Do you have a car or something else you'd like me to retrieve?" He sounded like an idiot, in his opinion. Of course she had a car. Being polite, or any type of normal human conversation was difficult for him. She seemed awfully annoyed by Gray's presence, and that in itself ticked him off. Did she really think that he actually wanted to be here? Did she think that he had oh so quickly volunteered to be a babysitter? The answer was no. Gray would have rather been on a real mission, one that involved action and weapons and lives that were actually at stake. Those types of missions were the ones he thrived on; it gave him a rush unlike anything else.Gray followed Charlotte out of the agency, automatically reaching for his side. Shit. His gun. He'd forgotten it. The realization put him on edge, making him incredibly uncomfortable and anxious. It wasn't that he couldn't handle himself in hand to hand combat--he certainly could. The gun was just a precaution, though he doubted he would ever need the threat of a gun for this assignment. When it came to assignments, he'd only had the chance to use it a few times. Two of the three times he'd used it to wound, and once, he'd used it to kill. He didn't enjoy wounding with the gun. It was too brief on his side, he couldn't truly see blow for blow the pain he inflicted. Hand to hand combat was much better.The valet had already retrieved Charlotte's car for her. Why was he not surprised. The vehicle was a Range Rover, a sensible choice that actually did surprise him. It was Gray's kind of car. Compact, capable, safe. It was a bit too expensive for his taste, but Charlotte had plenty of money, he was sure. "I'm driving," He commanded, snatching the keys from the valet's open hands, leaving no time for protest. Gray climbed into the car, relishing in the feeling of the brand new leather seats. The car was more than a bit too expensive for him, it was extravagant. But Gray approved. He waited for Charlotte to climb into the passenger seat, and also waited to see if she had any sharps snaps she wanted to make at him. He wouldn't have been too surprised, in fact, he expected it. Gray inserted the keys into the ignition, the flurry of his heartbeat increasing in tempo with the engine. "Where do you need to go?"devonDevon was hurt. She shouldn't have been, but she was. How could he speak to her in such a way with so much ease? What she had stated had obviously bothered him, but she couldn't fathom his response. Why was he so uninterested? Devon had an understanding that she was beautiful, despite the fact that she couldn't grasp this herself. She was accustomed to men approaching her randomly, something that Cameron had not taken kindly to. Cameron had never explicitly told Devon that she was beautiful, unless they were in the midst of some special activities. During those times, he'd just referred to her as hot, sexy, etc. More of a heat of the moment thing. She hoped desperately that maybe Mason would think her statement of lust was a heat of the moment situation, rather than the reality. Devon was hellbent on being with him, and the last thing she wanted was to scare him away.Tears threatened to obscure her vision. Not stare at him? She watched him a lot, but that couldn't be helped. Mason had failed to reassure her, if anything she was more nervous and afraid than she had been previously. The tears streamed down over her smooth skin silently--she wasn't an ugly crier. Nor was she wearing make-up, there was too much choice that went into applying it, combing with the restrictions of the center. Devon needed to feel reassured. Now. "I-I'm sorry, please forgive me," She murmured softly, wiping at the wet puddles pooling on the crevice of her cheekbones. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, I really don't." Mason couldn't possibly expect her to be capable of no longer staring, however. She simply wasn't physically capable of peeling her eyes away from him. Opting for telling him so, she spoke in a hushed tone again, "I don't know if I can handle that though. I'm sorry.""I'd do any other kind of favor for you, I promise. Anything you want, as long as it doesn't involve me staying away." Devon meant what she said. She would have given her life up for Mason, right then and there. There was so much that Devon could show him, could share with him. A friendship would have been fine with she, anything to be close to him. Although it wasn't ideal, it would have been better than nothing. She needed one sole person that she could depend on, always. Devon had lost that person when they took Cameron away. Some of the pains of her disorder had been eased, like the constant decisions. It was great, but she needed someone special. Like Mason. She needed Mason so badly, it was a burning desire, a thirst that if left unquenched, Devon would fear for her life.Devon cried more openly now. Rejection was too unusual, and far too painful. She wiped furiously at the hot tears of embarrassment. The blonde was absolutely mortified. People were taking notice to her situation. A couple of the orderlies looked her way, unsure of what to do. Mental breakdowns weren't too uncommon in the patients, in fact, they were expected. But Devon wasn't having a breakdown, she was just upset. Earlier, no sympathy had come from Mason. Just hostility and menace. He didn't like her. He wasn't even willing to give her a chance. Devon felt so needy, but she really was. A needy woman who's disorder made her so extremely reliant on other people, and Devon was steered towards one man independent in particular.Lunch time would soon be ending. She'd return to her padded room, and await her next release from the contained space. Recreation time. Two hours from now. There were options during this time, if all patients had been on their best behavior, there was even the option of going outside. Under the supervision of a nurse or other staff member, naturally. Devon's decision had always been made for her in the past, but today she was intent on making her own decision. Sort of. She planned on going, and doing, whatever Mason was doing. The thought was the only thing that could manage to calm her down, even the slightest bit. Seeing him again, being near him, in spite of his dislike for her, that was her guiding light.
(view spoiler)[no problem at all!! so you're almost done that's exciting!! I finished back in May so it's been a pretty chill month for me haha. can I just say this, Devon is the cutest thing ever oh my goodness I love her so much and I love everything about this roleplay it's so exciting lol (hide spoiler)]char“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” Charlotte said to him, dismissively and uninterested as he left the room. Crystal’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head. “Would it kill you to not be so, so…” she trailed off, trying to remain professional. “Bitchy?” Char finished. “You said it, not me,” said Crystal, shuffling around some papers on her desk. “Alright, get out of here. Be nice. Be safe. Please let me know when Victoria’s Secret gets back to you,” Crystal said. Times like that, Char didn’t mind Crystal. You know, when she’s not talking to her like a twelve year old. “Will do,” Char said, setting down her ice cream and standing up. “And I’ll let you know when Sherri Hill gets back to me. Big things coming up, my darling!” Char just forced a smile, did an awkward little wave, and then wandered out of the room.Charlotte saw Grayson as soon as she emerged and she made her way over to him. “Yeah I have a car but that’s not your job, that’s the valet guys’ job,” she explained impatiently, as she adjusted her Ray Bans on top of her head. “Let’s go, I’m tired of being here.” And with that, she made her way downstairs and to the lobby of the extravagant building. In the elevator, another model-looking girl was attempting at some conversation with Char. It was pretty obvious to anyone that Charlotte wasn’t listening, but the girl kept going. Charlotte usually isn’t rude to this extent, she just hates people in the fashion industry. She doesn’t even really like modeling. She doesn’t like being half naked in front of creepy old men photographers. She doesn’t like promoting being skinny to impressionable and insecure girls. But she loves traveling and modeling allows her to do that. She loves money and she has more than she could imagine now. But, most importantly, Char knows she’s good at modeling. And she isn’t good at anything else. Especially since she comes from a family where everyone excels at something, Char knows she must pursue modeling as far as it will take her. And let’s be honest, the living isn’t too hard when you’re an insanely famous and successful model. As they walked out, Charlotte noticed as Gray grabbed for his side. Kind of like what she does when she can’t find her phone. But her precious rose gold iPhone 6s rested peacefully and safely in her hand at the moment. “Did you forget something?” she asked. “I don’t really have much of a busy day at this point we can stop by your house if you need to,” she offered. Ah, there we go. Just enough consideration that confirms Char can show an emotion other than irritation. Char emerged outside of the agency and into the warm LA weather. She couldn’t stand cold weather. Charlotte loves being able to go to the beach year round. She loves not having rain. She loves being able to lay out in the sun almost every day after having to deal with infuriating people. Did she miss Atlanta, Georgia? Sure, sometimes. She missed her family more than the actual city, however. But her younger brother and older sister were both living on the west coast as well now so the distance was slightly more manageable. As expected, Charlotte’s regal Range Rover was outside waiting for her. Every time she saw it she fell in love with it a little more, as pathetic as that seems. But, hey, that was her super expensive car, it makes sense. So that’s why Char’s mouth dropped open slightly in angry shock as Gray took the keys from the valet guy. She marched over to the passenger door, ripping it open and staring at Grayson in her driver’s seat. “Want to know how much this car cost me? Over 80 fucking grand. And you’re not on my insurance so if you crash it I’ll have to pay for it. And that’s not happening. Get out of the driver’s seat now.” By that point the valet guys had begun to disperse, knowing Char well enough to sense some sort of tantrum building up. Yes, she’s twenty years old and has tantrums. masonMason stared at her, pretty much in shock, as she looked like she was about to cry. What? How? And now she was apologizing for it. Mason didn’t really find an apology necessary. All he wanted was for her to stop staring at him. All she had to do was agree to that and then they could go their different ways and live separately and as happily as possible. If it’s even possibly to be happy in a place like this. Mason knew he was being insensitive. After his anxiety attack, if he were spoken to the way he was speaking to Devon right now it was almost certain he would’ve gone through another episode of it all. But, on the other hand, it wasn’t his job to baby Devon and cater to her tendencies. He was hoping to be out of here somewhat soon-ish, and then she would have to live without him once again. This was in no way permanent. Now she was actually crying. What separates Mason from other fuckboys is that he can actually feel sympathy. And in that moment, he felt bad that he had made Devon cry. She seemed like a sweet girl and odds are it isn’t her fault she’s this clingy or whatever. It wasn’t really fair to hold it against her, but at the same time Mason didn’t feel like it was fair to her progress if he tried to be nice to her. He didn’t know how to comfort her and he didn’t really want to. He was hoping she would just get the idea and leave him alone before things got too serious or whatever. He caved, however. “It’s, uh, it’s okay,” was his lame attempt to fix some of the mess he had just made. “Stop crying,” he said, a little less gently this time. He just shouldn’t have talked to her in the first place. He should’ve just ignored her staring while never bringing it up. Because now look at the mess he’s gotten himself into. And now, worst of all, he’s the asshole that made the pretty girl cried. He could feel the people in the cafeteria staring at the two of them. “What do you mean you can’t handle it, I’m not asking for a lot here,” Mason pleaded with her. The situation was just getting more and more uncomfortable for him. And she was beginning to cry harder and oh my goodness what a mess. Mason looked around at the people in the room, hoping maybe someone would separate the two of them and they could just go off to their rooms until recreational time, where Mason would no doubt see Devon again. Of course he was going to do his very best to avoid her. And usually he was granted outside time for his “good and normal behavior”. As terrible as it sounds, he was hoping this little scene would prevent Devon from getting outside time. She wasn’t technically going crazy though, she was just upset. And normal people do get upset. “You want to do me a favor?” Mason asked. “Stop crying. I don’t like that.” If she couldn’t stop the staring, maybe she could stop the crying. That would be a step in the right direction as far as Mason was concerned. At least then she wouldn’t attract so much attention to the two of them. And, for good measure, he awkwardly reached out and patted her wrist, just two little taps, in hopes of getting her to just calm down. He glanced at a clock on the wall. Only thirteen more minutes of lunch. He could do this. Starting tomorrow he would get more strategic about all of his planning in order to avoid Devon. In a way, maybe this would be good for Mason. Now he will actually have something to think about and work towards, instead of just wasting away and taking up space in this nut house.
Welcome back. Just a moment while we sign you in to your Goodreads account.