we dream about reality , jaaam.

[kaitlyn rodriguez]

Math class, in Kaitlyn's opinion, shouldn't be compulsory, it should be given as an option. Especially in an art school, where the students learned all kinds of different arts. Math wasn't an art; though she doubted that Albert Einstein would agree with her on that subject, it was just a bunch of numbers in pen, or chalk. There was nothing relatively special about it. Which was, more than bloody likely, the reason as to why Kaitlyn was currently seated in the math room, with her head on the desk and one arm folded across the back of her head. The other arm was occupied by her math book, which she was using as a battering ram against her head, willing the lesson to end sooner, rather than later. A quick glance up at the clock, situated above the teacher's chalkboard, indicated that there lesson would end in just under five minutes. It was too long in Kaitlyn's opinion, and now that she had looked at the clock, she knew that the time would decide to be a bitch and go slow. Well, that was just bloody fantastic. As the teacher droned on about pi, Kaitlyn whacked the book harder against the back of her head, groaning quietly as she hoped was possible. The teacher, apparently oblivious to the student's feigning attention, mentioned something that made Kaitlyn look up and drop her book, rather loudly, on her desk. The noise she'd created had made; herself, several students and the teacher jump and turn in her direction. Great, that was all she needed right about now - unwanted attention. Her cheeks started to burn with embarrassment as she bit her lower lip and looked up at the teacher, who asked what was wrong. There was nothing wrong, well.. she had just been given math homework. Wonderful, really. Just what she needed.

Then there was art class, an excuse to goof around and play with paints. Unfortunately; things in Kaitlyn's world just went from bad to worse. This was only because some of the idiots from her art class had decided that it would be a good idea for them to cover the only (currently) freshman girl in their art class with fake blood and paints, lots of it. There she had been, quietly working by herself in the corner of the room, on a piece of art that had already taken her a few days to complete, when all of a sudden, she had felt a drop of something wet on her arm. At first she'd taken no notice of it, having not even heard the guys behind her at the time, either, and just passed it off as some natural occurence. However, when it turned into a full on blood-shed (so to speak), Kaitlyn had jumped about a mile in the air and came crashing down into her many paint pots, smearing paint across her clothes and bare skin. Great; that was more than what she needed right about now. With a sigh of exasperation; the brunette had attempted to shove past the guys, only to have three of them pin her to the wall, whilst the other two emptied the entire contents of three fake blood bottles over her head and clothes, making sure to cover her whole body in blood. Then, they let her go. Annoyed, Kaitlyn had lashed out at them - kicking one of them in the balls as hard as she could with her dainty shoes, punching another in the face with a tiny fist, catching the third on the chin with her other fist and missing the fourth one completely. She looked around for the teacher; but she was nowhere to be found. It was all rather strange. Before the teacher had a chance to come back, however, Kaitlyn threw her hair over her shoulders and stalked out of her classroom with the intention of skipping.

She knew that there was no way in hell that she was going to be able to survive another class if things like that were already happening. Therefore, she had decided that it would be in her best interest - and safety - if she were to skip the rest of the classes of the morning and see if things would calm down somewhat in the afternoon, after lunch. Kaitlyn had left her art class in such a hurry that she'd forgotten to grab her art work; having a sinking feeling that it would now be used for something dastardly, or even destr-- yeah, that was kind of like the same thing, almost. Pursing her lips together; the fifteen year old freshman cut through a crowd of students, leaving them asking questions about her... state, in her wake. Ignoring them as best as she could, Kaitlyn pursued her route through the school, avoiding any and all teachers at all costs. Honestly; she wouldn't benefit any if she were to be caught skipping class and covered in fake blood and paint. Eventually; after diving sideways through a door, Kaitlyn came to a rest at the sports track - she had no idea why it was there, but it was definitely a good place to go and sit. Under the bleachers was an awesome place, she'd never gotten caught there... then again, there was always a first time for everything. Turning her fake blood, matted head left and then right, she then ducked under the bleachers and seated herself in the corner, right in the shadows so that she wouldn't be found. Seating herself down on the cold floor, Kaitlyn pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her head atop her knees and chewing on the inside of her lip. She hoped to God that she wouldn't be found... A little after ten minutes later someone stumbled under the bleachers.

word count: idk. status: comlete. tagged: james armstrong. outfit: here. lyrics: ---. music: ---. notes: i write a lot when i'm sick o.o

[james armstrong]

James clumsily fell stepped out of one of the several computer labs that were scattered around the Manhattan School of Arts building. He'd decided that he was going to use his break time for today to do a bit of editing on some photographs that he had taken. Some were from a little earlier in the week, some were from earlier in the day. The first swet were of what he liked to call: 'the pink hairdus elder-sisterus in her natural habitat' - which mainly translated as his older sister Stella drawing, up until she had gotten angry with him because she didn't like having her picture taken most of the time. The rest of the photographs on his camera were of little signs that he had made all by himself. It had been an idea lingering in his mind for a little while now, especially after his first failure to ask out his sister's boyfriend's cousin Kaitlyn; whom each time he spent with her he would notice some other little trait about her that would just make him like her even more than he already did. So, once Stella had slowly began to look like she was going to lash out and whack him around the back of the head with her sketch book, he had believed that it was time to bail and decided that it would be a good time to finally ask Kaitlyn to go out with him. Yes, technically, that was he was going to do. He was going to ask out a girl through use of photography, which was something that he hadn't done before. Heck, he had never asked a girl out before, period; the whole thing was a new experience to him.

He'd tried to pick an area that would make a reasonably pretty background, but that would be quiet. People walking past and asking what he was doing probably wouldn't be ideal for the fifteen year old boy at the current moment in time; because firstly he would have no actual idea about how he could explain to them what he was doing and knowing how much people liked to talk in this school, it probably wouldn't take that long until the news reached Kaitlyn herself and the whole thing would be a pretty pointless exercise anyway. But first things first, James took the pad of Post-It Notes that always seemed to be about his person out of his back jeans pocket, scribbling a small note onto it. The past few days he had been trying to think of something that was original, but at the same time wasn't cheesey. Then he had realised the possibility of her actually liking cheesey little romantic messages, which had confused him thoroughly. It had actually kept him awake for a few nights, due to him being unable to make his mind up about how he was supposed to approach all of this. Yes, one could say that he hadn't really thought it through that well - but you could also cut him some slack at least and say that he was a love sick teenager who, at certain times, wasn't all that bright to begin with. He knew nothing about how girls acted, give or take the time that he spent with his older sister. He had been informed of the way that Luka had attempted to ask her out on his holiday two years ago, but he didn't really think that Kaitlyn would appreciate being pushed into a kiddy pool, and he would only cause himself the same dilemmas whilst trying to think of a way that he could apologise to her. It was toughter than one would actually think to be a clueless teenage boy.

Eventually he had decided on a message that he hoped wasn't too cheesey; repeatedly aligned and re-aligned the notes; taken all of the pictures, edited them; printed them in the computer lab and was now placing them into an envelope on which he had written Kaitlyn's name on. James had carefully walked from his little location of sorts, all the way to the hallway where Kaitlyn's locker was positioned - on the other side of the school. He had began his little venture all the way over there believing that it was on the way to his next class, but it wasn't. His next class was practically next door to where he had been several minutes ago taking photographs. Sigh. Was there anything that this teenage boy could actually get right, just once? He dithered one last time and posted the envelope through the vent in her locker, before looking down at his timetable. His next class had been Science; it was the only one of the three subjects on there that had been deemed as mandatory by the school board and that he actually enjoyed. Plus he was good at it, which was quite a rarity when it came to his more academic subjects as opposed to his artistic ones. These two factors added together meant that (as surprising as it would probably sound to some of those who knew just how foolish that James Armstrong could be all of the time once in a while) meant that he was actually ahead of most of the others in the class. Would it hurt to skip one itsy bitsy teeny weeny lesson? By the time he had walked all the way back to the Science classroom then he would already be late anyway, so it was pretty pointless. Instead of turning around like he was supposed to the boy continued walking in the direction that he was facing and stepped out of the first door he came to. His feet took him across the sports track, heading for the bleachers where he usually went during free periods when he had nothing to do or the rare incidences when he did skip class. But he never would have been able to expect to see a rather bloody Kaitlyn sitting under them already.

"K-Kaitlyn? The boy blinked slightly, hesistating as to whether he would be wanted underneath the bleachers. If she didn't want him there and straight out told him to piss off, he would go and find somewhere else just to make her happy. He himself would be quite upset, but that didn't bother him so much. "I can leave, if you want..."

[kaitlyn rodriguez]

Kaitlyn began to wonder about what the point of life was. She'd never had it easy in her life and she was going to guess that she would never have it easy at all. The poor girl hadn't had an easy childhood; growing up in a family home where the parents were either; rarely home, or were home and paid more than enough attention to the poor girl. In her fifteen years of existance, the only ounce of happiness that she'd ever had, had been the times where she'd spent days at a time with her older cousin Luka. At least he'd been the one showing her the love, even if they hadn't spent a lot of time with each other; Kaitlyn could always count on him to tell her that he loved her and that there was always going to be someone out there that would love her. It made her smile; if only for a while. Since her parents didn't seem to like her very much and would take to emotionally abusing her every single time they saw her, Kaitlyn didn't give much hope about another person really caring for her. Besides; she was too quiet and rarely able to stand up for herself; she didn't think that she would get very far in life if she carried on this way - which is probably, mostly, the reason why, at school she lets the bullies get away with throwing anything and everything at her, and making a fool of her in front of lots of people. It was routine now, a routine that she hated more than any other.

However; the day she met James, was the day she found her optimism. Her mind wondered if ever there would be a time that she could be happy. She needed a shred of happiness in her life and whilst Luka was providing her with that, Kaitlyn felt like she needed some more... did that sound greedy? The fifteen year old hoped that it didn't, because she needed a new form of happiness and the day she met James, was also the day she found out that she could love someone else in a way that was much different to the way she loved Luka. James had been her light at the end of the tunnel - so to speak, and he'd shown her that there was more to life than just sitting in the dark thinking about all the negative things; though he didn't know this. And what's more was the fact that Kaitlyn wasn't even sure about her feelings for James because sometimes she felt as though she were floating on clouds whenever she was around him, and other days she felt something else, something that she just could not explain. It was weird. Her heart would usually pound against her chest and there would be dancing butterflies in her stomach, her pulse would race and she would feel the blood start to rush to her cheeks. Something in the back of her mind was telling her that this was more than just a friendly feeling for James, a lot more. Trouble was; she wasn't sure what it meant and everytime she tried to figure out exactly what this feeling was; it confused he.

So, imagine her surprise when she looked up to find that the person whom just gate-crashed her one-man party was one particular person; James. Under her blood soaked cheeks, Kaitlyn could feel her blood start to rush to her skin, burning her cheeks and making her blush. Her heart beat so hard against her rib cage that she thought it was going to split open her chest and spill out onto the concrete floor. Her breath hitched in her throat and for once in her life she was completely speechless, no words would come out of her mouth as she looked up at James in awe, trying to figure out what she was going to do/say. He mumbled something about leaving. No, he shouldn't leave. She didn't want him to leave... no. Kaitlyn raised her arm and held out her hand to him since she couldn't find her voice at this particular moment in time. It would be very bad if James left; she needed some company and was glad that he'd stumbled under the bleachers - his company was better than anyone else's by far. "No..." Finally finding her voice, Kaitlyn lowered her hand and looked up a little more at him, head tilted slightly to one side. "pleasedon'tgo." Chewing on the inside of her lip, the little freshman tried to think of a reason why he should stay, but failed to come up with anything but: "I don't want you too." It wasn't much, but she hoped he'd stay.

word count: idk. status: comlete. tagged: james armstrong. outfit: here. lyrics: ---. music: ---. notes: gah, sucky

[james armstrong]

James hadn't actually known miss Kaitlyn Rodriguez for very long, especially when one considered the fact that he had only been at the Manhattan School of Arts for a little bit less than a month. He had first met her after he had 'lost' his sister (i.e: he was walking with her, stopped to look at something, then she carried on walking and he got lost) and found her half an hour later cuddled up with Luka, a few days after the two each other had bumped into each other again in the Hippy Hippy Shake. Kaitlyn had also happened to be there at the time; and technically he had fallen for her at the same time that he very nearly fell on her. By some kind of miracle he had managed to fall on the spare ground next to her as opposed to physically squashing her - either way, the fifteen year old boy felt particularly stupid about the whole ordeal. The part that had confused him the most out of the whole situation, bless his little cotton Spongebob Squarepants socks, was the way that his heart had leapt into his chest and his stomach felt like it was full of butterflies (even though it was actually filled with his lunch, which he had just eaten). There was no way that had been caused by embarrassment, he'd experienced much worse than nearly falling on top of a pretty girl and hadn't felt anything like that before.

It worried him slightly when he realised that he started to feel like that whenever he was lucky enough to be in her very pretty presence, which wasn't really helped by the time when he had been sitting at home minding his own business when his older sister had burst into the room singing and dancing about how plain, blatantly obvious it was that he was falling head over heels in love with Kaitlyn. He tried his hardest to deny such ridiculous accusations, but in the back of his mind he knew that Stella was right - he really hated whenever that happened, because it was such an annoyingly frequent occurance. At first he had decided that it would be easier not to make any kind of move based solely on how he felt, because he had horrible visions of her turning him straight down without even pausing to think about it. Or, him walking into school one day to find some guy who was much taller and much smarter and generally more awesome than James was with his arm around her. Or just generally making a complete and utter idiot of himself when he tried to ask her; even though he had a bad habit of doing that anyway that he was currently struggling to break. It wasn't until Stella had sat with him for three whole hours to explain that if he really, really, really liked Kaitlyn then he would have to do something about it soon before some other guy did and his little visions came true. It was obviously pretty bad, considering that she had sacrificed that night's episode of 90210 to give him such a pep talk; which was something that he rarely did. The problem? He chickened out.

That was pretty much why he was using his photography to ask for him. Of course, he hadn't really been expecting to see her, of all people; sitting underneath the bleachers covered in what looekd like fake blood and red paint, or whatever it was. He bit down rather hard on his bottom lip, almost to the point where he thought that he would be able to taste his own real blood rather soon. She looked like she wanted to be alone - to him, at least; he had never really been the best when it came to judging how people felt. James' big brown eyes looked at her for a few moments. Even when she looked like she had just walked off of the set of a rather sick, low-budget slasher movie; she was still beautiful. When he saw her hand reaching out to him he honestly considered taking it, never mind the fact that he wasn't all that sure why she was holding it out to him. He wondered if she had been to her locker in the not-very-long amount of time that it had taken him to walk from there over to the bleachers that he was now standing under. He doubted this, although that was probably so that he could buy himself some time before he would have to explain why he had done it and again make a complete and utter idiot out of himself. "Sure?" He asked carefully in reply, just after she asked him not to go. He didn't want her to think that she couldn't tell him to go away if she wanted to be alone. It would be the honest truth to say that he would do pretty much anything if it would make her happy, if it would make her want to go out with him. James slowly sat down next to the girl, a lump rising slightly in his throat when she said that she didn't want him to leave. Maybe she had seen the envelope...

ooc: total freaking fail on my behalf; but I wanted to post but I didn't leave myself enough time so I had to rush the ending. ._.