sleeping my day away {open}

[anthony emillio higgins]

Tony awoke in his dorm to find his roommate gone, his alarm clock unplugged, and his first two classes to have been over. He jolted out of bed, only to realize that a drum solo was indeed not playing loudly on his speakers, but that the hammering was coming from inside his head. Great. If he missed journalism class, Professor Denton would kill him. Tony wondered why he was called "Professor" anyway. He was just a high school English/Journalism teacher...

Popping two Tylenol, Tony checked himself out in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, obvious proof of what he'd been up too the night before. He grabbed his favorite pair of sunglasses, and checked himself out again. Well, it would have to do. He grabbed his book bag, and ran out of the room, and building.

By the time he reached the main building, where his Journalism class was held, Tony's eyes were watering. Damn hangovers. He rubbed his nose, which was kind of sore, and started up the stairs. He was going to make it. He was going to be hung over, sore, and tired, but he was going to make it.

Until the impossible happened. His bag broke. His messenger bag, that was new that year, split. Stupid cheap ******************.

His pysch book, lit book, and journalism notebook were now at the bottom of the steps.

"Thank God I keep my laptop in a separate bag..." he grumbled as he started down the stairs to pick up his things.

[/size]

[charles bartholomew bass]

Just because he was at a new school didn’t mean Chuck Bass would lose his signature ways. The class bell was to ring in less than a minute and there was Chuck, casually stroolling the halls of his new school, in no real hurry to get to his European Literature class.

It was strange being in a place where he knew so few people, but no matter where he went, people seemed to know the name, Chuck Bass.

Chuck studied his surroundings; he had to get to know his new home, which oddly enough wasn’t all too different from his last school. It was just another high end prep school, except this one had dorms and roommates; something the young heir wasn’t all too thrilled to hear about. Chuck was already working on one of his devious plans to create an exception to the policy for himself; he was used to getting his after all.

As Chuck moseyed on towards the stairs that lead to his next class (that he was surely to be late for), he noticed an oh too familiar sight. No matter what school you attended, you’re bound to run into the kid that spills his crap all over the stairs. At his previous school, Chuck normally would have some snarky comment for the student, but the problem with being in a whole new environment was he had no idea who this unfortunate soul was. So, he did the next best response, ignored him.

Chuck stepped over the pile of books at the bottom of the steps as the strange boy went to pick them up, however as the two passed, a strong, but familiar odor filled Chuck’s nostrils and he just stopped and smiled. Alcohol.

Being the king of scotch in the morning, Chuck couldn’t help but laugh. These kids just didn’t seem to know how to handle their alcohol. There was no doubt in his mind of why the boy was wearing sunglasses inside as well. “Those sunglasses aren’t fooling anyone,”

[/b] Chuck said turning around so he was now looking at the boy with a half smile. “You smell like an Irish pub.”[/b]

Just as Chuck finished his sentence, the class bell rang through the hallway. He leaned up against the railing and just stared at the boy; he wasn’t that interested in going to European Literature anyway. He could just get on a plane and go to Europe, why read about it? And Chuck was sure that loud bell wasn't going help the kid with his large hangover he most likely had as well.
[/size][/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[anthony emillio higgins]

Tony was not expecting people to be late like he was. He just wasn't expecting it. He really, really wasn't. Okay, yeah, he kinda was. But he didn't expect any of them to talk to him. He looked up, the room tinted because of his shades, and winced a bit. "That obvious, eh?" he asked, gnawing on his lip, and standing with his books and things in his hands. He checked out his book bag, and groaned again. The bottom was almost torn out. Maybe he could sue the school for destruction of property. Then again... he liked it here much better than at home. So, maybe he'd just get a new book bag.

"Dammit. I used cologne and everything." he muttered, right before the bell rang. He clenched his eyes shut, and groaned again. Yes, bells were made just to annoy those students with hangovers. He was sure of it. It wasn't like the teachers noticed them anyway, if he went by the number of times his geometry teacher held the class late. He opened his eyes again, and studied the kid in front of him. He was older, guessing by height and just general appearance, and Tony had never seen him before. AGA wasn't a tiny school, but Tony was pretty sure he'd seen most everyone at least once before.

So, the kid might be new. But not in a freshman way. Hm. "Looks like we're going to be late anyway. Wanna just skip? I'm Tony, by the way." he said, shifting his things into one arm and holding the other hand out to shake.

[/size]

[charles bartholomew bass]

This kid needed a pretty strong to hide that pungent odor. If a kid roughly sixteen-years-old can party that hard, maybe this new school wouldn’t be all that bad. Chuck did happen to plenty of attractive young girls while wandering through the halls earlier. That was always a bonus as well.

Chuck extended his hand briefly to shake Tony’s. “Chuck Bass,” he said, letting go of Tony’s hand. Normally, Chuck would decline such an offer from someone so young, unless Tony happened to be a female of course. But he was already late for class anyway, not that he was planning on attending in the first place. And this kid surely needed a few tips about drinking.

“I was actually thinking of going to get a drink myself,” Chuck said with a smile. “You look like you could use a few more yourself.” Chuck laughed quietly. Tony clearly didn’t need any more to drink, but seeing a sophomore (if that was his class... Chuck has no clue) drunk off his ass would surely be a worthy school skipping plan.

“But I mean, if you’d rather go to class with that broken backpack of yours, I’d totally understand,” Chuck said with a smirk, picking out Tony’s Journalism notebook from the pile in his hands. “Maybe you can write an article for the school paper about faulty school accessories instead.”

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]