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Beacon hills high > Parking Lot

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message 1: by Madison, Dunder Mifflin this is Pam. (last edited Oct 05, 2017 07:34PM) (new)

Madison (thegalpal) | 154 comments Mod
Hangout by your car, wait for the bus, Get dropped off by an embarrassing parent. Whatever your transportation needs may be, you're sure to find it here.

message 2: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments
Malcolm stared almost solemnly down at his fingers on his steering wheel. Despite having started that school year with the people outside of his tinted window, he still couldn't seem to find a good spot for himself. The dynamics were not all that different — at least not from his perspective — but there was still the big and horrendous topic of discussing his switch. A rich kid attending a public school was not entirely unheard of, but of his caliber? It was enough to kindle the kind of interest he didn't want to have directed at him. Which was what he was mostly struggling with. It was like his family name had created a physical barrier around him, something that had been the usual even at his previous school.

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair and leaned his head back as he shut his eyes. Another moment passed and once he'd opened his eyes again, he grabbed his bag from the passenger side and stepped out of his car. Malcolm tried not to think of the fact that his horribly conspicuous car was parked a little too visibly, and that it was different from the one he'd driven yesterday and the day before. Someone, unnamed as they would go for now, had seen it fit to change things up to a sleek grey vehicle Malcolm couldn't remember the model name of. Not that he cared, but it certainly didn't help his idea of not drying too much attention.

With his bag slung over his shoulder, he fussed with his hair as he walked and attempted to formulate a plan to get through the day.

message 3: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments
The compliment to his car came as a mild surprise, but enough of one to startle him out of his thoughts. The taller brunet male before him was decidedly a lot more knowledgeable about his car than he. "Thank you," he responded tentatively, offering up a smile equal measures polite and friendly. Having to look up at the individual left him looking through his lashes in s manner that could have been taken a number of ways; hopefully none, was Malcolm's silent prayer.

"It was my father's." Another statement made tentatively. Though not entirely untrue, there was the hint of a lie there. The car was under his name and had been given to him as part of a birthday package, but it was paid for by family money and without an sort of desire for it. He'd wanted to let it sit in the garage for as long as possible, but for once he wasn't getting everything he wanted.

message 4: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments
Malcolm was first thrown off by the chuckle. He's not sure what prompted the response, but he'd been close enough to hear it. But his wondering about that left his mind as the other stated that they did not know him. Something of a shock, really, but a pleasant one. Plush lips parted just the slightest, almost ready cry out that this was what he had wanted all along. Not being known was nice; even when he'd first started attending school, he'd received a number of compliments and affirmations that someone had some knowledge of who he was. And after the one incident of violent behavior, that tended to be what they knew of him. If they remembered that he was a him to begin with.

"Jihoon." The slightly more personal name was something he had decided he would go by, but old habits tended to die hard because he was quickly tacking on, "but, if it's easier, you can call me Malcolm." He nodded, mostly to himself. "What's your name?"

message 5: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments
Why wouldn't he want to know him? The question was there at the tip of his tongue, but he decided against it. Or at least to hold off on it for the timebeing. Instead, he bristled slightly at Julius' question. Lips pursed, gaze flickering down to his car and then back to the other, he considered his options. Plenty of lies to tell, and a little unimportant — to Julius, perhaps — truth to hide.

He shrugged before replying, "A change of scenery." Not entirely untrue, but the whole truth. He wouldn't go much further than that. His smile came back easily, amiable as it had been before. "I thought it would be nice."

message 6: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments
Again, a reaction Malcolm didn't quite expect. He blinked as Julius laughed, brows raised. As far as he had seen, nothing not nice had occurred. At least, by his standards. And his standards were considerably screwed, but that was what happened when you grew up in a house driven by appearances and politics.

"Deep crap," he echoed, nodding vaguely. Julius hadn't struck him as the type to lean towards censorship. Then again, the boy had said not to get to know him, so he could be doing him some sort of courtesy. "I get it?" Best to keep up whatever idea Julius had of him. "I'm sure I won't get into it, so no worries there." This was followed up by another smile, blissfully ignorant of the extent that the other was trying to get at. Or not get at.

message 7: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments
Malcolm's expression changed to that of confusion, brow furrowing and plump lips pursing. There was something loaded in this conversation that didn't seem like the usual kind of 'loaded' he was used to. Was Julius involved in this 'deep crap' or was he just very close to someone who was? Or was he just the source of it. That would explain why he had stated not to get to know him. Rather than make his confusion more tangible, he nodded. Short, ringed fingers fiddled with the strap of his bag for a moment before he spoke again.

"Thank you for your concern," he said slowly, nodding as he spoke. His words were chased by a breathy laugh and a shy smile as he looked up at Julius. "And for talking to me. Is this part of a welcome package or am I just special?" Maybe a joke would lighten the mood.

message 8: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments
At his response, Malcolm laughed. The well practiced, mild mannered one that felt more like it was done out of obligation than anything else. "I might not live up to your expectations, then," he retorted, "I'm not really looking to change anything. Changing things up didn't exactly equate to laying low. He tried not to think too much about the knowing who people were bit. He could only hope people would know him after he'd graduated. Or not at all.

Malcolm had been quite clear with himself about that much. His family would be a topic off limits. His home life could maybe be described minimally if asked, but he'd played this game in some variation before; he could handle. He licked his lips, contemplating what next to say. "What year are you?" School was a good place to start, considering their current location.

message 9: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments
( s'all good, i understand :) )

Malcolm wasn't sure he liked how Julius was wording things. Or, well, his smile as he responded. Like he knew something the shorter didn't. Which was probably true, but in a different sense he couldn't quite put his finger on. Not that he wanted to. He kept his smile polite, rocking back on his heels. He tried not to think of the curious eyes also checking out the new kid. Focusing on Julius was easier to do, at least.

He was, however, glad to move on with the conversation. A brow rose at the mention of friends. While coming off as somewhat talkative, the taller didn't seem to give off a particularly friendly vibe. He wondered what his friends were like, but very quickly put that thought to rest.

"Also a senior," he replied, nodding, "Not sure about the friend part, but maybe that'll happen as the year passes." His smile this time was a bit wider, eyes crinkling slightly.

message 10: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments ( my bad! replying to this in a bit )

message 11: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments
Not financial support hit home. Malcolm had already come to find that family was no more than that, or at least that was how he'd been treated. He was pretty sure his mother still had that little file about some arranged marriage tucked away in her drawer, waiting for him if he ever ran back. There were two reasons she allowed it, really: because she'd been the one to choose it and because it would further extend the family's reach. Financial support.

He wasn't entirely sure what he meant by how people got by with their friends. Were people not capable of getting by on their own? Or was there something else in that? He glanced over at where Julius was leaning against his car, before looking back to the other as he muttered something about humans.

"Indeed, we are," Malcolm mused, not entirely certain if he should have answered that.

message 12: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments

Malcolm...didn't know how to react to that. He blinked, mostly taken aback by the last question. A moment passed before he was smiling again, a short chuckle leaving him. "Do I have to have killed someone to be interesting?" Shaking his head, he shrugged. "I don't have any sort of history; I just transferred schools."

"What about you, then?"

message 13: by sucre'd fiend (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 43 comments

Everything had seemed to be going well. That is, until Julius frowned. Malcolm liked to thin he could pic up on these small details, but this was something glaringly obvious. Something he had said was not approved of. Perhaps it was his whole lack of history. But what could he give up that wasn't too much? Laying low generally meant being fairly uninteresting and while he might be bored with his rich boy status, people here could eagerly snap at such a concept. And then he'd be right back where he started.

He pursed his lips as he listened to Julius speak. He couldn't discern - didn't really care to - what all was truth and what was lie. Or what the purpose of this was, really. Maybe to get him to speak up. Malcolm sighed, glancing around as the other spoke.

"Honestly...there isn't much to tell. My family was fortunately caring and that's it." A beat passed and then a thought: "What kind of history did you think I have?"

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