Ian Spencer | OC

[bullethewords]

001.	Lost	002.	Safe	003.	Hope	004.	Hide	005.	Voice
006.	Drunk	007.	Heartbeat	008.	Hands	009.	Promise	010.	Stay
011.	First	012.	Last	013.	Mistake	014.	Chance	015.	Wait
016.	History	017.	Impulsive	018.	Nervous	019.	Complicated	020.	It's not like that
021.	Awkward	022.	Tease	023.	Touch	024.	Blush	025.	Kiss
026.	Accident	027.	Panic	028.	By your side	029.	Protect	030.	Soft
031.	Storm	032.	Cuddle	033.	Talk	034.	Cigarette	035.	Nightmare
036.	Mirror	037.	Silence	038.	Regret	039.	Numb	040.	Memory
041.	Tongue tied	042.	Bite	043.	Jealousy	044.	Argue	045.	Excuses
046.	Dream	047.	Walk	048.	Caution	049.	Listen	050.	Calm
051.	Time	052.	Rain	053.	Anxiety	054.	Go	055.	Dawn
056.	Threat	057.	Fight	058.	Bruise	059.	Unspoken	060.	Forget
061.	Sunset	062.	Peace	063.	Forest	064.	Stars	065.	Run
066.	Obsession	067.	Temptation	068.	Secret	069.	Turning point	070.	Choice
071.	Lunch	072.	Home	073.	Sunrise	074.	Happy	075.	Tomorrow
076.	Accent	077.	Weak	078.	Camera	079.	Marker	080.	Shadow
081.	Missing	082.	Here	083.	Hollow	084.	Wrong	085.	Noise
086.	Alone	087.	Isolation	088.	Pain	089.	Beg	090.	Gunshot
091.	Siblings	092.	Smirk	093.	Always	094.	Waterfall	095.	Lie
096.	Coffee	097.	Road trip	098.	Birthday	099.	Sick	100.	Bonfire

Comments

011. First

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Ian was late. He wasn't the sort that was ever late to anything. In fact, he was kind of perpetually early all the time, which made this particular morning feel like a nightmare unfolding in front of him. He darted down the hall toward his homeroom class and sharply turned a corner only to slam, full-body into another person coming around the same corner the opposite way. The collision sent him backwards and he muttered, "Shit, sorry," as he regained his balance and looked up at the person he'd just barreled over. "The fuck? Watch where you're goin', dickhead." Came the agitated remark from the short, pale-skinned boy. He looked like the kind of person that would normally have a cigarette in his hand, and Ian wasn't sure that a person could look any particular way that brought that exact idea to mind until now. "Sorry," the lanky ginger repeated, running a hand against the back of his neck. "I'm just trying to get to class, I'm late." He cuts himself off there before he launches into any kind of diatribe about how much he hates being late. This guy definitely didn't ask for that and it would just waste more time to explain it, if he was honest. "Yeah, well, I'm tryin'na find mine." His eyes swept over Ian from head to toe and back again and he shrugged. "You look nerdy enough-- where's Turner's class?" Ian made a few noises that never quite made it to becoming real words, "Uh- okay, first of all: You insulting me isn't really the best way to get me to help you. And secondly-- that's where I'm going, so--" he made a vague motion with his hand as a silent request for him to follow him as he made his way down the hall. The guy steered back the other direction and fell in step beside Ian easily enough. There was just one thing that kept running through his mind. "You're new, aren't you?" "Gee, what clued ya in?" He rolled his eyes. "Okay, you're an ass. I get it, you can stop now." Ian shook his head and continued down the hall. "It's just really easy to spot the new kids in a town this small because literally everyone knows everybody else. And if you don't know them, you've seen them around. And bar either of those, your parents know each other at the very least so--" The guy held up a hand to stop him. "I don't fuckin' care, all right? Shut the fuck up and get me to this fuckin' class so I can stop lookin' at your scrawny ass." Ian mouthed a silent 'Wow', eyes wide and head shaking slightly before he continued until they reached the classroom in question. He gave Mrs. Turner an apologetic look before he hastily made his way to sink down low in his seat in the back of the room. She seemed to assume he was late for helping the new kid get to class, and he didn't bother correcting her.

071. Lunch

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After the initial run in with him the first day, Ian didn't think much about the new kid. He didn't seem like the kind of guy that wanted to make friends, so he avoided going into the 'Welcome to your new hometown' spiel. Probably best, it wouldn't likely have been been received very well at all. The next few days go by largely uneventful. Donny mentioned she had a new girl in her homeroom too, and he'd seen her around after his sister had pointed her out. She actually looked a lot like that Matt guy in his class and he wondered if they were related somehow. But still. Days rolled by and other than taking note that he did show up for class, Ian didn't notice much of anything about the guy. He was the angry type, which kind of the type of person Ian tried not to get himself involved with. Personally, he'd been in more trouble for fights at school than almost anything else; he can't help that he's protective of what's his. People talking trash about his mother or calling his sister a whore aren't things he has ever been able to simply let go of. Doesn't matter that his sister could do with a few less dalliances with any boy who's attention she could grab-- he wasn't going to sit back and take someone talking about her that way without a fight. So violent people? Angry ones? They were the type he tried real hard to steer himself away from, generally. Kind of hard to steer away from someone who drops themselves right in your field of vision, though. Ian blinked once and let his eyes refocus on the guy--Matthew, his name was Matthew--sitting across from him in the cafeteria at lunch. "Uh, hi?" He perks one eyebrow at him, not sure exactly what to make of the sudden intrusion. "Don't get all doe-eyed on me, all right? I just need somewhere to sit and--" he waved one hand in a vague gesture. "you got the most space at your table." He wasn't wrong, exactly. Except when his sister or his best friend were making up his tiny entourage, Ian usually sat pretty well enough alone at lunch. Not that he couldn't easily surround himself with people if he wanted, he had plenty of friends and never really had to be alone if he didn't specifically choose it. Sometimes, it was just easier this way. "Right." His voice is stilted and a little awkward, still a little unnerved by this guy. "So, where are you from anyway?" Because it definitely wasn't anywhere all that nearby, the accent was all wrong. "The shitty side of Chicago. Why?" "Just asking." He shrugged a little and popped a chip in his mouth. "You plan on eating or... just skipping lunch?" A shrug is the only response he gets and Ian huffs a soft, annoyed sigh. "Look, is there a reason you're so short--" "Uh, yeah, it's called genetics, they teach that shit in science class." Ian almost didn't manage to contain the laugh at that interruption. "No, I mean your attitude. You're kind of a dick, and I've done nothing to deserve that. Hell, all I've done is help you." And ignore him right after that for the last three days. But whatever, that's not the point. He scoffed and tossed his head back a little, "Oh, don't worry, Princess. You ain't nothing special, I promise. I'm just this peachy with everybody." A slight frown creased his forehead. "I can't decide if that's better or worse, actually." he admits, taking a sip of his drink. He doesn't seem phased by being called 'Princess' and whether that's a schooled reaction or something else entirely is debatable at best. "How about you just don't worry about it, huh?" Ian nodded and then shook his head. This guy was a real piece of work, that was for sure. The rest of the lunch period is spent in relative silence, the two boys don't have much to talk about and Matthew didn't seem to want to do much of that regardless. When the bell rang, Ian pushed up to his feet and shouldered his backpack. "See ya around, I guess." he muttered with a half-hearted wave before he took off to go to his next class.

044. Argue

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"You don't know what you're talking about." The sharp snap from Matt was more of a warning than anything else just yet, but the fire in his words was clear enough. "It was just a question!" Ian held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. "And it's not a big deal if you are, Matt. It's not like I'm gonna care, I'm gay." "Yeah, and I'm not, so fuck off." That deep-rooted Chicago accent of his always got so much worse when he was mad. Sometimes, Ian hated how much he liked it. He sighed and shook his head, "Fine, you know what, whatever," he waved his hands like he was miming the idea of washing his hands of a situation. "you win. I'm wrong. I don't know what I saw." "Damn right I win." He mumbled, running his thumb under the edge of his nose and looking properly annoyed about this entire line of conversation. Except that Ian wasn't convinced Matt won at all, or that he was wrong about what he saw at the party last weekend. Keeping something like that a secret in a small town was nearly impossible, doubly so when a person did things to push that secret out into the public space of a party. Okay, maybe public space is a bit of a stretch-- behind a closed upstairs bedroom door isn't exactly public, but it's close enough in a party situation. Other people needed rooms, too. Which was exactly how Ian had accidentally come across what Matt was so vehemently denying. Ian was considerably drunk and Chad wasn't too far behind him in that respect. And his hands always got a little more eager to wander when they were at parties. Not that Ian would ever complain, or that he could do any complaining as the pair of them tripped their way up the stairs to find a bedroom to take this show to. He laughed when he nearly lost his balance at the top landing leading to a hallway lined with doors, but Chad, ever the valiant hero, caught him and stopped him from toppling over. "Come on," Ian mumbled, a fistful of Chad's shirt in his hand as he made his way down the hall. "Check this one," Chad pointed to one of the bedroom doors. Ian nodded, and wandered over to check if the room was being used. He wasn't quite prepared to find what he did on the other side of the door. Even in the dim light, it was easy to make out the familiar features of Matt's face as a guy Ian didn't recognize hovers above him. The unknown guy seemed like he might say something, but Ian didn't bother sticking around to hear it. He immediately muttered a quick apology and backpedaled his steps out of the room, slamming the door behind him as he spun back toward Chad. "Not that one. Occupied!" But it was only a temporary flash in the pan issue. The boys found a room for themselves quickly enough and Ian forgot all about what he had just discovered minutes ago. At least, until he was sober and remembered it all over again. Ian still wasn't sure what had possessed him to confront Matt about the party, but it had all gone over about as well as he expected it might. Matt seemed to take Ian's comment as concession to the point and pushed past him to head, probably, literally anywhere else as long as it was far away from Ian right now. Ian dropped his face into his hands and groaned.