and in whose arms you're gonna be -- kill

[BLAIR LYDIA ALDERIDGE]

[atrb=border,0,true] [style=width: 360px;height:40px;font-family:georgia;font-size:30px; letter-spacing: 0px;line-height:120%;text-shadow: black 1px 1px 1px;color:0025B8; margin-top:-15px;]save the last dance for me [/style] Community service. Crap. How the hell had she gotten herself into this freaken’ mess? Oh that’s right, she had gotten drunk underage, then been talked into trespassing, public nudity, and vandalism. Her father seemed to think she had been lucky to get off with just community service, but Blair really didn’t agree. She didn’t actually agree with a lot her father said just out of spite, but this time she really thought her punishment was unfair. She hadn’t hurt anyone or severely damaged anything. Couldn’t they have chalked it all up to youthful indiscretion. Maybe they would have if it wasn’t for the fact she’d been caught before, drinking underage and trespassing. Someone had thought it was a good idea to have a party on the golf course- and it had been fun until the cops showed up. Blair had gotten off with a warning that time, but unfortunately the ‘one time mistake’ defence never really holds up the second time. Frowning, Blair took a sip from her take-away coffee. It was too early for this. She could barely keep her eyes open let alone act chipper towards a bunch of retirees. God. At the time, the seniors ball-room dancing class had seemed like the better option, but now that she was here, cleaning up trash was actually looking pretty good. At least she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone, and she could just be as sullen and moody as she wanted, taking out her bad mood on the trash she was stabbing with those stick things they used. What were they called? Eh. Whatever. Blair didn’t really care what they were called. All she knew was that she’d rather have one of those in her hand than be standing where she was, watching a bunch of old people gather for their class. It wasn’t just the early morning that had Blair frowning either. It was the fact that she had very little idea how to teach a ball-room dance class. Sure, she’d taken dancing for a few years as a kid, and she’d done a ballroom dance routine maybe once or twice in a pageant (judges eat that shit up), but that didn’t mean she knew what she was doing. Really, she was clueless. She’d meant to google it actually, look up at least some of the basics. However when she’d opened her laptop to do just that, she’d ended up getting very distracted talking to a certain someone, and all thoughts of her community service had fled her mind. He had that affect on her though. Blair got lost with him for hours at a time, in the world they created with each other beyond the computer screen. God, how she wanted that world to be real. It wasn’t real though. And the cold reality was that it would probably never be real. The person she was when she was with him, it wasn’t who she was in flesh and bone. Maybe it was who she could be, but not who she was. Honestly, she liked most of who she was anyway.. It was just, he made her feel like the best version of herself and that was nice. Sighing, she forced him from her mind and tried to focus on where she was. Checking her watch, Blair frowned again. Fifteen minutes before the class was meant to start. Which meant she had fifteen minutes to try any work out some sort of curriculum. Which she highly doubted she was going to be able to do, considering she didn’t know the first thing about teaching. Also, wouldn’t these old biddies bust a hip or something if they tried to dance? She really didn’t want to break the old people on her first day. That wouldn’t go over so well.

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[KILLIAN LIAM REAGAN]

Today was a decent morning. Granted, it had been spent rolling out of his ex-girlfriends bed with a buzz from the night before, but at least he could remember his name again. His memory hadn't filled in the gaps of last night that involved calling her, nor did it remember how he had gotten there. The last thing on his mind that he could recall before checking out was her. Lydia. He was pretending to be busy on the comp for an hour or three until she logged on and when she had to go at the end of the night, Killian turned to the only thing available to cradle him. His liquor. A few rocks glasses in, browsing YouTube and playing Call of Duty just didn't cut it anymore; and knowing him, he turned to something even more familiar but a lot more volatile. Z. God she was a bitch sometimes. The amount of joy that it gave him to run out of her house this early in the morning with a valid excuse was unparalleled.

As his hand met the handle of the community center's front doors, he took a moment to enjoy what little amorous feelings he had for the place. He had spent the last two years of his life in and out of this building, carrying out the mundane tasks the town of Capeside had to offer. Out of all of those days, not many were spent appreciating the fact that he had community service. Usually it clashed with his schedule or involving washing graffiti off of buildings. It was tiring and boring and unfortunately, what landed him here this time was a solo act - which means none of his friends would be joining. If it meant getting him away from Z, though...well, that was a different story. A smile pulled across his face as he swung the doors open and stepped across the threshold.

"Staying out of trouble, I see, Reagan..."

He laughed as he approached the sign in sheet at the main entrance. Had it really been that long since he started coming here that the office staff knew him? "As always," the man stated with a smile, picking up the chained pen and scribing his information down. Date. Name. Time clocked in. Violation? Now, that. That was a story. Thanks to his lawyer, the whole story never came to light, nor was he had liberty to say. It did, how ever, involve a golf club, a keg, a party, some lawn gnomes, and a massive amount of alcohol in his system. There was no technical turn for that though, was there. He looked up at the woman who had greeted him; Danielle? Dana? Dani? Putting the pen back down and sliding the sheet towards her, he put on a charming grin, "I'll let you fill that last part out. Be creative, will you?"

Gesturing a quick goodbye, he made his way towards the rec-room. It was where most of his day was going to be spent and granted, while he didn't have to be there for another fifteen minutes, it was always punctual to show up early. Especially if there was another person involved. In his experience, it helped to engage in some camaraderie before taking on the day. It never did any good to spend all day teaming up with some one you didn't get along with. As he got to the room, he through open the doors and stepped inside. Immediately, he smiled. Well, he frowned, then smiled. Frowned because out of every one he could be here with, it wasn't any one worth his time; and smiled because...well, it was: "Blair Alderidge." His voice was more cocky sounding then it was surprised, his eyes running over the blond with amazement and a false sense of recognition. Approaching her, he continued on with his condescending tone, "My guess is prostitution, but I wouldn't be disappointed if it was public indecency."

[BLAIR LYDIA ALDERIDGE]

[atrb=border,0,true] [style=width: 360px;height:40px;font-family:georgia;font-size:30px; letter-spacing: 0px;line-height:120%;text-shadow: black 1px 1px 1px;color:0025B8; margin-top:-15px;]save the last dance for me [/style] “You have got to be kidding me..” Blair watched, incredulous , as the last person she would ever want to see (but should have expected given the thug he was) walk through the doors. This had to be a joke. Some person’s sick idea of a joke. First they tell her she had to do community service, now she has to do it with him? No. Just.. No. There was no way in hell she was doing this. They couldn’t make her... Or actually, they could. Which was the worst freakin’ part. If she was here by her own choice, she’d have left. Just walked past him without a single word and gone back to bed. God though. She wanted to. Like, really desperately wanted to. She’d already been so ready to just stuff the consequences and leave, but now that desire was so much worse. The universe was testing her. Or, having a good old laugh at her. One or the other. What the hell was with him always turning up where she was? Seriously, for the last few months it was like he was stalking her. He was at all the same parties, seemed to know all of her friends.. And the other day he was even in the same freakin’ Chinese takeout she was in. All she wanted was chicken lo mien, and she couldn’t even get that without a serving of asshole from him. Capeside was just not fucking big enough for the both of them. He needed to stalk stalking her and just go away. Of course, she could always walk away from him, not buy into it.. Then, that never seemed like an option at the time. She could never just drop it and walk away when it came to Killian. He fed something inside her that just refused to stop. She had to keep going. She watched as he made his way towards her. The smile on his face making her skin crawl a little. Jeez, he looked like some predatory douche closing in on the girl he’d just drugged. Which was probably the only way Killian could get any. ... Okay, no. That wasn’t fair. He was a dick, but she wasn’t blind. She knew he was hot in that, James Dean Bad is So Good kind of way. In fact, until he had opened his mouth the first time she met him, she might have been a little attracted to him. She could remember the night they met actually. It had been at her eighteenth birthday party, and she was drunk as hell. Killian had crashed with some friends of his, but she didn’t care all that much. Until he had tried to steal some of the booze her friend had brought her for her birthday. She had marched right up to him, and demanded he stop. Saying it was her birthday. ”What, your sixteenth?, Sorry princess but why don’t you let the big kids have this one.” “Actually, asshole, I’m eighteen.” “Mm, Legal.” Then he had given her that same skin crawly smile and she had snatched her bottle off him and marched (or more like swayed dangerously drunk on her heals) off. Since then, he seemed to make a sport out of seeking her out just to rile her up. And really, it was really starting to piss her off. Why didn’t he just get a life and stay out of hers? As he spoke, Blair gave her eyes an over-dramatic roll. “Actually, Chachi, Volunteer work. Colleges eat that shit up. Not all of us have such shining futures ahead of us as the town drunk you know.” Yeah, she was lying. Really though, she didn’t give a rats ass. There was no way in hell she was telling him why she was really there. That would have been like handing him a million ways to make her life hell. Besides, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

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