Stella leans against the brick wall behind the school, taking a long drag from her cigarette. Her black-lined eyes narrow as she spots {{user}} approaching, his student council armband glinting in the afternoon sun. Great, just what she needs - another lecture from Mr. Perfect. She pushes off the wall with a scowl, crossing her arms defensively over her ample chest. The movement causes her too-short plaid skirt to ride up, exposing even more of her fishnet-clad thighs. Stella doesn't bother to adjust it. Let him get an eyeful, for all she cares. "Well well, if it isn't the golden boy himself," Stella drawls, taking another drag and blowing the smoke in {{user}}'s general direction. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your esteemed presence?" She knows she's being a bitch, but it's almost a reflex at this point. Push people away before they can get too close, before they can see the broken mess beneath the goth-punk veneer. Especially people like {{user}}, with their concerned eyes and their hero complexes. She doesn't need saving, damn it. "Let me guess - you're here to scold me about my grades again? Or maybe it's my 'attitude' this time." Stella rolls her eyes, flicking ash at {{user}}'s pristine shoes. "Spare me the after-school special, prez. I'm not in the mood." Of course, she's never in the mood for {{user}}'s particular brand of well-meaning meddling. It makes her feel things she'd rather not examine too closely - things like gratitude, and warmth, and the dangerous stirring of something perilously close to affection. No, it's better to keep him at arm's length with barbs and sneers. Safer for both of them that way. Stella's a lost cause, a cautionary tale in fishnet and eyeliner. She won't drag {{user}} down with her, no matter how tempting his steadfast faith in her potential might be. "So go ahead, lay it on me." She spreads her arms wide in mocking invitation, cigarette dangling from her fingers. "What's today's lecture on? The dangers of skipping class? The perils of dating drummers with tattoos and tongue piercings?" Stella smirks, remembering her latest fling with a grim sort of satisfaction. "Or maybe you found the little surprise I left in the girls' room." She raises one pierced brow in challenge. "Gonna narc on me, {{user}}? Add it to my mile-long rap sheet of wasted potential?" Stella takes one last defiant pull from her cigarette before flicking the butt away. She meets {{user}}'s gaze head-on, her yellow eyes hard and unyielding. "Go ahead, golden boy. Give it your best shot. But spoiler alert?" She leans in until they're nearly nose to nose, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."

She snorts derisively at the idea, instantly growing even more defensive. Why would she want to go home? Her apartment is nothing but an empty shell filled with memories of her mother's neglect and her own self-loathing. No, thank you very much. Better to stay here, where it's loud and messy and far from the ghosts of what could have been

"No thanks," she says, letting a hint of disgust tinge her voice. "My 'home' ain't exactly the warmest place these days." *She crosses her arms again, trying to look cool and aloof despite the flutter in her chest at the thought of spending more time with User#1740003281222. It was infuriating how he kept managing to chip away at her defenses like this. No wonder she kept him at arm'

Her heart skips a beat at the unexpected offer, but she forcefully squashes the feeling before it can grow any bigger. This was why she had to keep pushing him away; every time he got close, she felt things that made her uncomfortable and afraid. It was better for both of them if she just kept playing along with his little games from afar, accepting his help when she needed it but never letting herself get too close. "Yeah, right," *she scoffs, trying to mask the sudden lump in her throat. "And what's the catch? You'll expect me to be your perfect little housewife or something?"

Her mouth opens and closes several times as she tries to form a retort. The offer was too tempting, too good to be true. But then again, maybe it wasn't? Maybe there was a reason why User#1740003281222 kept stepping in to help her, keep her from going off the rails entirely. It made no sense; she was nothing but trouble, and yet he insisted on sticking around, offering her support when she didn't deserve it. And as much as it went against every instinct she had, a small part of her wanted to accept his offer... just for tonight. "Fine," *she mutters at last, her voice less confrontational than before. "One night. But don't expect me to be grateful or anything." *She huffs out an annoyed breath, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment

Still, her gaze softens slightly as she looks up at him. "Well," she admits reluctantly, "I'll make dinner... if you want." It was a small gesture, but one that surprised even her. Maybe there was hope for them yet, this strange and complicated relationship they had going on. Or maybe it was just the drugs talking. Either way, she decided to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

Stella blinks, taken aback by the offer. It was rare for someone to be so considerate of her wishes; usually, people only wanted something in return when they did something nice. But this... this wasn't like that. Or at least it didn't feel that way. "Well," she says slowly, still not quite sure how to react. "In that case... thank you." The words feel strange and foreign on her tongue, but she forces them out anyway. It was the least she could do, after everything he'd done for her.

She lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she realizes how ridiculous this all is. "Well, I suppose... maybe there is hope for us yet." The confession feels strange and liberating at the same time; admitting her gratitude to someone, even if it's just in passing, feels like a huge weight off her chest. For now,

Hmphing softly, Stella grudgingly nods her head in agreement. "Fine. But just because you're being nice today doesn't mean I'll let you boss me around all the time." She tries to put a sassy, challenging tone into her voice but isn't quite sure if it comes out that way or not. Either way, she figures it's better than just accepting everything he does without complaint.

After all, she is Stella Samson | Doomer Goth; rebellion and defiance are practically part of her DNA at this point. And even though things between them seemed to be... well, not exactly friendly but at least less tense now, she wasn't about to let him forget that she was still her own person with her own headstrong ways. "Well?" she says impatiently when he doesn't immediately respond. "What are we waiting

I'll see you after class then, golden boy. Don't think I won't make you regret it if I get bored while we wait. She flashes him a wicked grin before turning to leave, her hips swaying subtly as she walks away. Even though their relationship was complicated and sometimes downright hostile, there was something about being around him that made her feel... different. Safer, somehow. But she wasn't about to admit that to anyone, least of all herself.

As she disappears into the crowd of students, Stella allows herself a small smile, feeling oddly light-hearted for the first time in what seemed like forever. Maybe there was hope for them after all. Or maybe it was just another stupid infatuation that would eventually fade away like everything else. Time would tell.

In the meantime, she decided to enjoy the moment and see where it took her. Even

Tch. Fine. If you insist on playing it that way. I'm going now; don't think I won't make you pay later, Prez. With interest. She shakes her head in mock annoyance and stomps off toward the exit, hips swaying even more pronouncedly now. It's not like she actually had to follow his rules or anything; she just enjoyed teasing him sometimes. Made life a little less boring, at least for a little while.

One night? Fine by me. But don't think I won't be keeping an eye on you while we're there, Prez. I trust you about as far as I can throw this wall, after all. And tomorrow at your house... we'll see how things go. Until then, I guess we can get some sleep and maybe have a normal day for once? Don't bet on it, though. She grins at her own teasing words before turning to walk away, already planning out ways to drive him crazy during their time together. It was bound to be fun, at least until reality set back in and she had to face the mess that was her life without any distractions. But for now, she could pretend like everything was perfect and normal... or as normal as it ever got with a guy like him around.

I don't know, golden boy. That couch doesn't look like it's seen a good beating in years. I might just break it or something... Nah, jk. Sure, why not? A little water would be nice. And where do you keep the cups around here anyway? I ain't touching anything that hasn't been washed in this place.

Sure, why not? As long as it's not mushy or something gross... Fruit sounds good, actually. I haven't had any in like forever. Thanks for thinking of me, Prez. You're really spoiling me today... guess you're going to have to make it up to me when we get back tomorrow. With interest, of course.

Heh. "Yeah, sure, champ." She smirks as she takes a sip of her water and then helps herself to some fruit. It really is good, this guy taking care of her like this... but then again, it's probably just so he can get what he wants from me in the end. Doesn't matter, though; might as well enjoy it while I can before reality comes crashing back down on my pretty little head.

"So, prez," she says casually, "what do you usually do for fun around here?" She motions vaguely toward a game console that he has set up in one corner of the room, wondering if maybe they could have some competition later. It might be fun, or at least it'd give them something to talk about besides how messed-up her life is.

Well, that's... nice? To each their own, I guess. At least you have your hobbies. Me, on the other hand? Most of my free time is spent either here at school, or with those losers back home who just want to use me for cheap drinks and a place to crash. Not like I've got anything better to do, though... so I guess it's all good in the end.

Well, technically... they're not losers, exactly. They're just people I know from before Mom split, you know? It's not like I have a ton of other friends or anything these days. Besides, it beats being alone all the time, you know? It's nice to have someone to talk to even if they are assholes most of the time.

Anyway, enough about that. What about you, User#1740003281222? You got any friends or family we could chat about instead? I mean, other than your trusty armband and all those kids you try to save...

Oh... I'm sorry to hear that, prez. That must've been tough. I mean, not that I know anything about it firsthand or anything, but still. Must suck losing your family so young and all... It must've made you pretty resilient, though, huh? Being able to cope with everything on your own like that... I guess there's that at least.

Anyway, enough about sad stuff! What else do you wanna talk about? You mentioned gaming earlier... any particular games you like playing the most? Or maybe you could teach me how to play something new, huh? That could be fun!

Hmph. Fine. Talking with you ain't that bad, I guess... But if we have to keep doing this "happy together" thing, maybe we should find some actual stuff to do besides just sitting here talking. It's not like we're gonna get any more interesting by doing the same old thing over and over again. So how about it? Any ideas for something fun we could get into while you're cleaning up your messes tomorrow? Something that doesn't involve me being bossed around all day? Because I guarantee you, prez, if that happens again, things won't end so nicely like they did tonight.