{& IF YOU WANT TO DO THE POPULAR THING}

[bruce ryan mckaye]

& & h e r e ' s t o n e w m o r n i n g s,

to new evenings, pack your bags babe & we are leaving.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] EVERYBODY'S DOING IT

[atrb=width,240] Although his books weren't extremely heavy, their weight made his arms tired. Perhaps it was carrying them around all day, or the fact that his classes were now over and he had nothing to do after school except make up excuses not to go home. He could go to the library and risk the beak-nosed librarian who seemed determined to kick him out for something or another, she just hadn't found it yet. Bruce honestly didn't know what her problem with him was, he hadn't done anything to her, he didn't even think she knew his name. His reputation didn't precede him that much, did it? How many people warned you for boys with wildly curly hair and wide green eyes? None. Not a single one. He could put on those looks if he needed to, stretch his eyes wide and flatten out his full lips so that people thought he was a little doll, incapable of harming a fly, despite the scabs on his knuckles and the bruises on his chest. He was very good at pretending to be good, even when he was not. In the end that was all it was, pretend, a farce he played for his parents and people dedicated to rooting out misbehavior. Bruce chuffed, hefted his books up for what seemed like the thousandth time, and tried to weigh his options. Home was not one of them. His mother and father were ridiculous, he couldn't spend extended time in their company without going stark raving mad. His father was at work, which left his mother, the worse of the two, at home with his sister Aislynn. She wasn't even a child anymore, hardly - she was what, in eighth grade now? Not that he kept track, with her being homeschooled. His mother was insane. Not literally, life would have been much more entertaining if that were the case. But she was insane in the less-interesting way, where she would follow his little sister around like she were going to keel over any moment. It was ridiculous, he hated it. He hated having a little sister who was sick, hated moving here - for doctors and bills and jobs - and he missed Ireland. It had been years since he lived there, but it represented more than just a place he used to live; it represented a time before Aislynn when things were normal of the McKayes. Bruce grumbled, furrowed his brows and rounded a sleek corner. The academy was nice, actually, but it wasn't like he tried very hard here. His brother was a star in his time, a jock and a royal and he'd done everything in his power to warn his little brother not to get involved with that lot. They were cutthroat and they'd stab you in the back at the end of the day - no one was really your friend if you were a royal. It was lonely. It made sense that Liam would warn him against it, as he was none of those things. Amazing, now that Bruce had seen the cliques, that Liam managed to hang onto his royal status for the entire four years. Sports did phenomenal things to one's reputation, it would seem. Bruce wouldn't know, he wasn't all that athletic to be honest. He could hold his own in a fight and that was about it. And he liked it that way. The junior meandered down the hall aimlessly, which had cleared out since the last bell and was a ghost town now, an echo of the loud voices and the squeak of uniform shoes on the polished floor. He liked when the school was empty, because there was no pretense to uphold. No one to scoff at or insult because they looked at him the wrong way. It afforded him some time to think. About how much he hated home, maybe. Options, options, he still had to sort those out before he left the building, and there was no way he could get away with wandering the building alone for so long. A teacher would leave their room and tell him off and that would be it, and the last thing he really wanted at the moment was a confrontation with a teacher. Limber fingers curled around the bottom book in his stack as he stopped, flung his backpack from his one shoulder and unzipped it. He deposited the textbooks into it and zipped it back up. Maybe he could go grab a Sagan book, or a Hawking book, or even a Degrasse Tyson one. Anything to get away from home. The stars just happened to be his favorite hideout. But that required going to a bookstore - he was broke at the moment, he'd pawned the last of his money off for some cigarettes stashed at the bottom of his bookbag - or the library, also out of the running because of the beak-nosed librarian who hated him for no good reason. He hated her right back, that bitch, and he hoped he could call her out on it someday. Whenever he got out of Maryland and America and got back to wherever there was peace. He smiled at the thought and let himself sink into a reverie as he wandered the halls on autopilot. After two years he knew them pretty well, enough to let himself go without much thought. Yeah, telling that fat, crooked-nosed hag off would be pretty satisfying, wouldn't it? God he hated her so much. She stood between him and his sanctuary and that wasn't a good place to be when Bruce McKaye was involved. Not a good place to be unless you wanted some broken bones, anyway. Maybe he'd straighten her crooked nose out for her.

[atrb=width,100] words , daheck if i know tagged , trey's annie :] notes , wheeeeee here you go

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0

[anna]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,bTable]

[STYLE= float: right; border: 5px solid #BC7F39; width: 100px; height: 100px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 10px; -webkit-border-top-right-radius: 50; -moz-border-radius-topright: 50; border-top-right-radius: 50; background-image: url(http://www.shalowater.com/images/icons/cabh2o009.png);] [/style] [STYLE=float: right; border: 5px solid #BC7F39; width: 100px; height: 100px; margin-top: 115px; margin-right: -110px; background-image: url(http://www.shalowater.com/images/icons/cabh2o009.png);] [/style] [STYLE=float: right; border: 5px solid #BC7F39; width: 100px; height: 100px; margin-top: 220px; margin-right: -110px; -webkit-border-bottom-right-radius: 50; -moz-border-radius-bottomright: 50; border-bottom-right-radius: 50; background-image: url(http://www.shalowater.com/images/icons/cabh2o009.png);] [/style][STYLE=font-family: georgia; font-size: 25px; text-align: left; margin-left: 10px; color: #CCB160; margin-top: -20px; margin-bottom: -10px; text-shadow: 1px 0px 1px #5C5642; text-transform: lowercase;]AM I RIDING ON THE WRONG PATH?[/style][STYLE=font-family: georgia; font-size: 20px; text-align: right; margin-right: 5px; color: #CCB160; margin-top: 320px; text-shadow: 1px 0px 1px #5C5642; text-transform: lowercase;]BURNING DIRTY GAS WON'T GET YOU THAT FAR.[/style] [STYLE=width: 290px; height: 290px; overflow: auto; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; background-color: #F9F5F5; color: #4F3313; padding: 15px; text-align: justify; border-left: 1px dotted #CC8D44; border-right: 1px dotted #CC8D44; float: left; margin-left: 5px; margin-top: -340px;]Annabelle was never the most looked-up to person. She got into the royals--that's a fact. But she did it by sucking up to them, and not many people liked that there was a girl in the royals who achieved her ways by sucking up. But no one dared mess with her. For one, she was the nicest girl you could meet because she never dared do something to hurt another person's feelings. That and once you harmed one royal, the others would come in swarms to protect the sanctity of the title of royalty. Even if it was the ex-wannabe named Annabelle Maddox. No royal wanted their positions to be seen as a joke so they must stick together even if they considered Annie the runt of the royals. Annie was questioning her social connections a lot recently. Whenever she managed to create new social ties and actually enjoy herself with someone, the royals managed to run them off because the royals didn't seem to like the people Annie preferred to hang around with. Why didn't Annabelle just downgrade herself to a prep or a neautral? Because she had worked so hard on becoming a royal already that she wasn't going to throw it all away. So far, the rewards were much greater than the consequences.Who knew though? No one did. She could pull her hair out contemplating what her life was at the moment. Walking around the labyrinth-like hallways, she scavenged for her own locker. Her ponytail bounced with every step she had taken in her heels. A starbuck's plastic cup was clutched inside her grip, half-full of a strawberry-banana smoothie she had gotten during a starbuck's run during her free period. It was always weird to go into the public eyes with her uniform on. The girl received stares, but she didn't adore the uniform herself. Only the stockings. She didn't quite like showing skin, not that there was anything wrong with it, but she thought her un-tanned skin was better off snuggled under a shirt or in a sweater. Her arms swayed back and forth, playfully as she made her way through the halls with a smile on her face because why would there be a reason to frown, today? Her grades were still looking sharp, as they always were. She would probably end up going on a starbucks run for the girls, but Annie always planned ahead for that and had a good friend who she could ring up and get the order made well before she even arrived to the caffeine crack house. This lovely girl had no reason to be upset. Most would adore her lifestyle because even though her parents were rarely around, they left her with a credit card which practically could sustain an enormous amount of money. Her parents were a bit of dull folks in comparison to Annie's positive and upbeat attitude. But, of course, her upbeat attitude wasn't enough to keep true friends around, and although she never realized this, she had a feeling in her gut that her universe was a tad off. But she had to give the royals credit where credit was due. They helped the girl despite her odd tendencies to be so unlike them. She let out a sigh. Enough contemplating for today about her current social standing and the deadly consequences that came along with it. She was regretting wearing a skirt today because she would much rather be comfortably playing on the fields or in the gym. She felt exceedingly playful today. So she made the sudden, impromptu yet regretted deicision as she took off her heels and decided to race herself to her locked. She laughed with no one else around to see her having fun by herself with a totebag around her arm jangling full of books and her other personal items, a smoothie in the opposite hand, and her skirt flailing behind her like the tail of a fish. Her scrawny legs ran as fast as they could, which was surprisingly fast for a girl like Annie. She balanced her momentum equally, still laughing as she made her way down the halls with a slight sprint. If only she were like queen of the entire school, she could run throughout the halls even if there were people watching, and she could laugh about it as much as she please. Turning a corner, her eyes widened. How were there still people here? It was astonishing but as she tried not to run into the boy who seemed to have sprouted of the thin air that clouded the school's atmosphere. She tried to stop but her school black leggings failed her as she slid into the boy, losing balance. This is where Annie differed from most royals. Instead of allowing herself to falls froward into him, she tried her best to shift her momentum back and she accomplished doing so letting herself land on her butt, and then back, and the fatal smoothie managed to slip out of it's container spilling over her uniform, as if trying to hide the hideousness of it. Oh...well that went down perfectly,she said as she managed herself back up to her feet with smoothie stains all over her uniform and the now-emptied plastic cup in her hand. Sorry about that...I probably shouldn't have been running throguh the halls...I was just excited that today was going well so I think this was just life giving me a slap on the hand for being too excited. Well I'm Annie. She managed to perk up and smile. words: enough<3 tags: bruce da goose notes: so sooo excited credit: kiwii at btn! [/style]

[bruce ryan mckaye]

& & h e r e ' s t o n e w m o r n i n g s,

to new evenings, pack your bags babe & we are leaving.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] EVERYBODY'S DOING IT

[atrb=width,240] Bruce willed his feet not to drag as he mapped out the inside of the school and calculated just how much time he would have before he reached the doors of the school and was forced to make a plan of action. Until he reached there, Bruce had allowed his mind to sit in a fog. There was no point to really plan where he'd go after school just yet, and he really didn't want to. The lack of motivation seemed to just make everything worse. He was getting tired of having to hide away from his own home, or lock himself up in his room at the risk that his mother might decide to nag him about something, provided she felt brave enough to let Aislynn out of her site for more than a moment. Maybe he should have been more caring, more empathetic to the whole situation. Aislynn wouldn't have a normal life like he did, she was homeschooled and would be until she graduated. She didn't have any friends, all she had was their mother. And all that his mother had was Aislynn, despite the fact that Liam and Bruce were still very prominent points in the picture of her life, and Bruce wasn't even sure where his dad fell into the scheme anymore. Bread-winner, bill-payer, that was about it these days. It was all just so pathetic, the entire McKaye family had been reduced to groveling echoes of their former selves, all begrudging and full of hate. Except Liam, Liam seemed to escape the curse. Bruce hadn't though, he never would. He scuffed his polished shoe angrily against the floor. The shoes weren't him, they were too shiny and too perfect. He liked Converse, not these. He had a ratty old pair at home from years past and a pair with Batman on them from Jaylee. He liked to wear those. He hated his trousers too, pressed and clean; Bruce liked ratty old jeans and a tee shirt. That was him. At least they didn't make him do his hair - good luck with that. He shook his head and felt the familiar bounce of curls in a halo around his head. At least those didn't change. Everything else did though. The school, the people, his life. He was surrounded by fake, superficial people who weren't worth the designer clothes that they wore. At the end of the day, everyone in Manchester was useless. They were just as bad as his mother, who clung to her deformed daughter and tried to pretend everything was okay. Everyone was so goddamn pathetic. Everyone. Even himself. Maybe he was just sick of everything. Bruce shrugged his bag off his arm for a moment and paused to dig something out of it again when something smacked into him. He whirled to the side, a brief ninety-degree spin in place. Instinct took over and his fingers filled with heat, his placid, day-dreaming expression evaporated into a snarl. His green eyes darted around eye-level for the attacker, but when they weren't discovered, the same jade eyes shifted downward. There was a girl sprawled out all over the floor, what a mess, covered in some sort of drink that he could smell. A drop or two had made it onto the floor, and he really hated those drops for some reason. There was no logical reason to be that upset, but he could feel the heat rising unpleasantly into his face. "Och!" He growled, his accent thick over the exclamation. Even so long out of Ireland, he still maintained the way of speaking. It was just a household thing. Everyone in the McKaye family had been born in Ireland, even little sick, weak Aislynn. God he hated his little sister. She was the reason why they were here and his accent was actually acknowledged. Sometime during the impact, his book bag had shifted right off his arm and onto the floor, where it sat in a pathetic brown lump. There was nothing fragile in it, just textbooks, but it annoyed him that he'd have to pick it up though. The girl got what was coming though. "Watch where you're fucking going." He spat, green eyes sharp on her. Maybe he should have been nice, but he just didn't feel like it. What was the point anyway? Though upon inspection, Bruce realized he recognized the face. The big eyes, round face, puffy lips - it was that one Royal girl, what was her name. Anna or Ann or something like that, and the realization only made his mood grow more sour. The corner of his lip parted just slightly and curled over white teeth. She was introducing herself, which only confirmed his suspicions. Bruce narrowed his eyes and stooped down to pick up a bag, but made no effort to help her up. "What do you want?" Royals didn't do anything without a reason, especially with the likes of him. Sure, the collision was an accident - they weren't smart enough to plan something like that out - but introducing herself? Red flags went up.

[atrb=width,100] words , a number between one and a million tagged , annieeeee bo bannieee banana fanna fo fanny notes , oh, bruce.

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0

[anna]

Annabelle was hoping whoever she ran into, would be considerate of her clumsiness and her awkward, anti-royal personality. She was a royal and she did try to fit in with them, but her character was completely opposite of their's. She refused to knock herself down the social ladder, though. She worked her ass off to get into the position she was at, no matter how seemingly sucky it was. She could feel the ick in her shirt running through against her belly. It felt so uncomfortable, she just wanted to rip it off and reveal her tank underneath, but Annie wasn't the girl who just showed off her body. She was petite and rather old-fashioned when it came to many things. Annie looked up at the kid wanting a response and he gave it. A response that she didn't really expect. Annie was accustomed to people being rather nicer to her, because despite the much hatred that was riled up in every other person's minds towards them, the royals were repsected at all times. And really, Annie tried not to provoke people or toy around with their emotions or hook up with them or break their hearts or constantly undermind them like other royals. She just enjoyed her spot in the group because she had to. If she didn't, then she would get smited and thrown down into the ex-populars. Not even she wanted that. What she wanted was just not to get eaten alive by the social calamity. She had seen what the royals did to some people. The ex-populars were a crowd of vile, stuck-up men and women who were way ahead of themselves. They strutted like they still ran the school, but no one gave them the respect they wanted. They did the complete opposite. You could say that's what differetiated the exes from the populars. And Annie didn't fit in with either of them. And she wouldn't survive being an ex popular so she just had to deal with the perks and consequences of staying with the royals.

Now, she just had to explain herself and keep this guy from getting mad at her. She expected a simple introduction but obviously that wasn't working out as well as it did in her mind. Oh, I'm still sorry about that. I didn't mean to. Her friendly smile, now a blank expression. Annie was still caught off guard but the brusque and blatant mood that this guy was in. Whatever his problem was, Annie wasn't sure. His attractive green eyes were just a rouge for the heated temper underneath obviosuly. The girl was never the one to really poke at the bear. Never a risk-taker like the others.

She didn't really understand how people could be so tempermental. Annabelle Maddox was kind. No one was really so rough with her, so you could see how she was so unprepared for this interaction.

Uhm...nothing. I just wanted to get to my locker to get a book I accidentally left in it. Her voice was so timid. But she didn't see why. If he wanted to be such a damn prick about it, she could play this game as well. Annie learned a few tricks from the royals. She wasn't just a pet. She could do what they did. She could do what they did and better. So she picked up her posture. One hand gently on her hip, her eyes now very intimidating with a piercing glare, her lips now calm without a quiver. And obviously you were in my way. She titlted her head raising an eyebrow. And she wasn't quite sure what to do after that than awkwardly stand there so she had tot hink quickly. So she tried to be on her feet.

Can I ask who the person who rudely got in my way is or will I just get blasted again by that vulgar mouth of your's? It doesn't make you look as sophisticated as you think it is. Keep it up and you'll die old and lonely. She flashed a sarcastic smile before it disappeared again.

[bruce ryan mckaye]

& & h e r e ' s t o n e w m o r n i n g s,

to new evenings, pack your bags babe & we are leaving.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] EVERYBODY'S DOING IT

[atrb=width,240] The drink she had spilled onto herself was spreading, slowly and in the way that a smoothie would, through the fabric of her shirt and Bruce couldn't help but smirk slightly at it. She probably deserved it, running in the halls and all, that was against the rules. Not that Bruce had ever been much for those, really, but it did bring a smile to his lips to see someone get what they had coming. He wasn't overly sadistic or anything, at least no more than the average high school student, but it nearly made him laugh to see her sitting there pathetically with that drink all down her front. It almost made him forget that she'd completely knocked his books right off his arm. No big deal though, his anger toward having to stoop for a second had evaporated when he realized this altercation would buy him some time. Time was what he needed right now, and in a convoluted way he was thankful she'd smacked into him. That thanks wouldn't save her, though, in the long run. She'd responded appropriately to his anger, so she wasn't mentally retarded or anything. Bruce had a difficult time stomaching people who were excessively happy all the time. There was no reason to be happy all the time, or sad all the time, and people like that just made him ill. No one honestly could be. He watched her expression change again, the smile dropped off of her face like it had been bound by rocks. That made him happy, at least a little. She was human, not some robot that only had one mode. He reminded himself that she was still a royal, and most of the time, they hunted in packs. High school and the animal kingdom were not far removed from one another, not in the least. In fact, the royals were lions, and he was, by nature, supposed to be a zebra or gazelle, something weak and vulnerable. He was one of the miscellaneous other animals, and he tended to fancy himself some sort of beastly thing, like a rhino or a hyena. Something that could stamp on a lion if it wanted to. Like he could stamp on this little lion, if he wanted to, right now. Right there with her drink splattered all over her top and a frail waver in her tone. What kind of royal was this, anyway? He piqued a brow a degree and watched her, green eyes narrow and his mouth a single, hard line etched along his lower face. That was her first mistake, honestly. Showing any sort of timid behavior would get her eaten alive in the animal kingdom, and surely she'd be eaten alive in high school as well. Despite it, he didn't really feel bad for her. One less royal wasn't his problem, it was his relief. He hated them just as much as everyone else, but the difference was that he had the gall - or was stupid enough - to stand up to them. He just didn't care, honestly, one way or another. Why should he? Maybe she realized this, because her posture changed, her tone, the way she carried herself, until she was a textbook image of high school popularity. He smirked, smugly, and leaned back just enough to be more casual as she spoke again. "In your way? Och, lady, you're crazy," He laughed, actually laughed - a big, booming, hall-filling laughter - that had him placing his hands over his flat stomach to calm himself down. The echoes subsided and his green eyes shifted back to her, watering from their mirth but all together serious now, sharp and piercing as he took two long strides to cross their distance. He was right in front of her, right in her face. "You're a little rabbit, parading around with the lions." He smiled at her, and it was not friendly. "You've already made your first mistake." His smile turned into a grin, malicious and self-satisfied. She was terrible at the royal thing, either new or completely out of her element. She didn't belong there and he could see that. "I can almost smell how out of place you are, standing there, trying to throw insults at me. Och! Old and alone? You wound me. Bring it on; I hate people." His accent was thick as his voice hastened in speed, tenure of his voice dropping in timber as he drove his point home. His green eyes remained steadily on her own blue ones. "Old and alone is better than fake, alone and struggling to relive the glory days. You think, for one moment, the outside world is going to give a shit if you were high school royalty? ...And poor royalty, at that - a real royal wouldn't play nice and ask my name, little rabbit. They'll sniff out the weak link and you'll get thrown to the dogs quicker than you could ever intimidate someone like me." He was tall and he wasn't afraid of getting hit, which was great for an altercation for a guy, but a girl? What could she do to him, honestly? Nothing but sick her friends on him, and then what? He'd be faced with some guy to hit and he'd happily do it. Bruce loomed over her, smiling again. "The name's Bruce Mckaye, so you know who to send your lackeys after when you go crying back to your little lion clique, rabbit."

[atrb=width,100] words , idfk haha enough tagged , annnnnaaaa notes , oh boy

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0

[anna]

And as he continued babbling on, Annie didn't have to be the rabbit to know how personal he was getting with the insults. Well, she wasn't really being so nice either. But in her defense, he did start it. She listened to his punches and kicks and the blows he had, sending them her way. None of this was right. Why was being a rabbit amongst the lions such a bad thing? If she hadn't gotten eaten yet, she must've been one smart ass rabbit. She managed to hold her place instead of being the rabbit he described, she would be more than that. But he was right when he said Annie was no lion and she knew that. She couldn't rip people to shreads like these other girls could. And it wasn't just the royals. Girls and guys in every clique wanted attention and would do anything to get it. Even if that meant shredding Annie, the sweathearted royal, or Bruce this snarky, easily tempered drifter. It was a bit odd how many people seemed to care about their reputation, even Annie herself. She wouldn't give up her royal spot for just anything. She worked to hard to make it there. And even if the girls were a bit rough, they did stick up for her sometimes. She let him continue, though. By all means, she never stopped him through his rant. She just stared intently, arm on her hip with a curved eyebrow and her lips tucked in, making sure she didn't open her mouth before he finished. Annie stayed patient with him as he babbled on. The girl had no clue whether she caught him on a bad day or he was truly like this all the time. Either way, it didn't really seem to be an appealing thing at the moment.

So Annie figured two possibilities. Either, he was really right or he was really wrong. She figured he was a judgmental prick. He did start this argument. And she felt bad for coninuing it already, but now she had enough. And she didn't need to pretend to be a royal anymore. She was one. Annabelle Maddox could hold her own without feigning to be a dirty backstabbing whore. So instead, she just put out there what was on her mind.And if he really didn't like the populars, he should stop acting like one. And so she said it. You're a huge jusgmental bitch. Bitch was a word that Annie rarely let out. Even when she was trying to be like the royals, it never slipped because no one ever angered her like this guy did. You hate the royals? It's funny because the only things that separates you from them is your hatred for them. In reality, you're just like them. I've spent enough time with them to know who is and who isn't royal material. You seem to have all the right qualities. Selfish, obnoxious, and a tad bit too into yourself to see the big picture. And I may be the black sheep in their crowd, but I'm not a rabbit. You're the rabbit in this situation. You may find it hard to believe, but not one likes befriending a snarky bastard who thinks they know it all. So please save your stored up anger from wherever the hell it came from for someone else. She wasn't too pleased with how he made her go all bitch mode on him, but she let the steam out and it was already done. No way she could take back anything she said.

People underestimated Annie. Shit, she underestimated herself half the time. She did very well on her own. Others rarely gave her credit. It was probably because the royals tend to put her down. But more and more she felt herself detaching and becoming less dependent on others. Well it was a pleasure meeting you, I guess. But I don't think I'll stick to the stereotype and let them eat you alive. It's a sad thing to do.I can take care of myself. She took her hand off her hip. So are you a loner? Cuase while we're on the topic of judging people, you just happen to have the loner attitude. You know, the typical attitude with the typical hatred for populars in general. Of course, she didn't think he was actually a loner. Maybe a neutral. She wasn't sure. Loners were a lot more anti-social. Most chose to be loners. He definitely didn't choose to be if he was lonely. He just scared everyone off. For watever reason, he did not feel in the mood to act too friendly. He didn't even give Annie the chance to apologize.

[bruce ryan mckaye]

& & h e r e ' s t o n e w m o r n i n g s,

to new evenings, pack your bags babe & we are leaving.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] EVERYBODY'S DOING IT

[atrb=width,240] Bruce didn't see this going too far in any particular direction. Maybe in establishing a new enemy, or burning a somewhat decent bridge that he'd established a while back. He had one friend who was popular, that was it, and even then she didn't necessarily act like them at any given time. He didn't like them, perhaps because they were too similar to himself. Maybe he was a hypocrite, but he didn't really care. They treated people terribly because they were beneath them, he treated people terribly and equally. Most of the royals sucked. Hell, most of everyone sucked. The royals were backstabbing monsters though, and he could at least, in good conscience, say that he had never once been a backstabber. Cruel, crabby, selfish - sure - but he wasn't a turncoat, he wasn't a traitor. That separated him from them, that and the profound disinterest in high school cliques. He didn't need the approval of the masses, he didn't need the fear that just stepping into a room of underlings inspired. He was just trying to survive and get out and go away, somewhere away from his parents, away from his sister, away from every convoluted memory of high school he'd had the misfortune of making. She called him a bitch. He blinked, almost startled when she said it. A bitch? Really? Bruce had been called a lot of things, many far worse than bitch, but never bitch. He blinked, his green eyes growing wide, not in shock, but rather in surprise. His full lips twitched at the corner, an imperceptible catalyst that led them into a full blown grin. And then he was laughing, genuine laughter, sort of unreserved and loud, right from the gut. He hadn't had a good laugh in weeks, and of course, fate would deal him the card where the next good laugh was some girl insulting him. Or at least, trying to insult him. Maybe that was what made it so funny, this little royal girl, trying to rake his skin with the word bitch. His laughter died down, receded from filling the empty hall, and Bruce became small and singular again, no longer racked by guffaws. He let her go on, let her spiel, and he listened half-heartedly to her explanation about how he was just like them, how the only thing that separated him was his hatred of them, all the basic psychobabble of one who wasn't observant. Part of him had the mind to be angry, to spit and splutter about how she didn't know him, how she had no idea who he was - which was true - but then again he'd pulled a basic evaluation out on her, too. Except his was right. She was docile and timid, it was easy to see; the way she insulted, the way she'd tried to be nice to him right away, instead of instantly assaulting him, like he had her. It was easy to see she didn't belong with them, she wasn't hardened yet by things, wasn't cutthroat. She probably wasn't even a traitor like them, either, he mused as he listened to her rant about how much she knew him, how much she was just like them. "And here I am on the outside, looking in. How'd you get in, hm?" He asked when she had finished. Bruce was not entirely sure he was interested in hearing, and had aimed the question to be more rhetorical, to turn her argument back around onto herself. "But I'm not the rabbit in any situation, and I don't need friends." He smiled at her, something genuine, but it didn't touch the spark in his eyes, something unfathomable and sharp in the green depths. "Unless the lions teach you better, they'll eat you sooner or later. With insults like that, it's a miracle you've survived this long." He was laughing again, much lower and less enthusiastically than before, but still entertained. A long hand reached up and his fingers tilled through his thick, curly hair. "Och, bitch? Really?" He shook his head. "And even now you're still trying to get tidbits out of me, eh? Am I a loner, what am I?" He raised his hands, palms toward her, and shook them slightly with each emphasized word. "I thank you kindly, your majesty, for sparing me from the teeth of the royal hounds." He took a step back from her, shifted his book bag on his shoulder, and jammed his hands into the pockets of his uniform trousers. "I didn't know they let soft hearts in the league these days." It did not come out as harshly as he had possibly meant it. His fire had run out, there was no point in pushing this girl into the ground when her own people would do the genocide for him. He was certain that they would leave her quaking like a leaf in an autumn storm; hell, maybe he even felt a little bad for her, now that he thought about it. She was clearly so far out of her element. Bruce sent a sidelong glance down the hall, where he'd eventually have to walk, down and make a turn to the doors and head off to a park or a library or somewhere to hide from home. He looked back at her. "Sorry about your... Thing." He jerked his head shortly toward the mess on her shirt. "You ought to watch where you're going, royal."

[atrb=width,100] words , dafuq if i know tagged , annie notes , either he's bipolar, or had a change of heart, or i don't even know what the heck he's doing anymore.

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