#how are you gonna shut down every location of your business in an entire county

[firelord-frowny]

so bizarreeee to me when businesses don't make certain information easily accessible to its clientele???

like, for a small music store such as (but not limited to) music&arts centers, whyyyy would you not have a clearly stated inclement weather policy on their websites with regard to private lessons?

if your business, say, a restaurant, has to shut down for several weeks renovations or something, WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY would you not stick a sign on the door that says so? WHYYYYY would you not make a quick lil social media post explaining why you're closed and how soon you expect to re-open?? literally howwww much fucking sense does it make to just turn out the lights and shut the door without a single word to any of the people who patronize your business???

are there legit reasons why so many places are content to just leave their customers in the dark like that and make them have to go out of their way to contact the owners/managers/etc and ask wtf is going on, if they care enough to ask?

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Bad Girls Club (5/?)

Title: Bad Girls Club Summary:  Los Angeles’ new program, the Juvenile Female Rehabilitation Program (JFRP) was created with the purpose of taking at-risk girls in the county and send them to a summer-long program located where a sleepaway camp once stood. There, they will take classes in ethics, behavior, and other courses to help mold these young minds. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa have been sent there for wildly different reasons, but with the same result - a clean permanent record. Being roomed together, the pair might find an unlikely alliance (and maybe more) in each other. Word Count: ~2.6k (this chapter)/~13.2k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: E

Read on AO3

------

[October 8th, 2017]

Brooke had been staring at her bedroom door for over fifteen minutes now. She was trying to will her legs to work, will her arms to open the damn door. There had been weeks of anticipation – she had practiced what she was going to say in front of the mirror dozens of times every night. It was much more comfortable to perform intricate dances in front of a full auditorium.

Fuck it, this was it.

“Are you busy, Mom?” Brooke’s voice was meek as she poked her head around the corner into the living room.

The muffled noises of the television silenced. “No, come in.”

For the most part, Brooke Lynn wasn’t afraid of her mother. They generally kept to themselves unless otherwise necessary and cohabited perfectly adequately. But this? This was entirely different. It would change the entire course of her life drastically, possibly for the worse in the short term. Still, she knew she would regret it if she didn’t say it at all.

Brooke fidgeted with her fingers; eyes trained on the floor. “You know how I told you I didn’t want to go out with your friend’s son because he’s an anarchist?” She didn’t wait for her mother to respond. “He’s not. At least… not as far as I know. The truth is...” Her throat tightened, and her heart started to race. “I’m not attracted to him. Or any guy. I-I-I... I like girls. I’m gay, Mom.”

The ticking of the clock in the otherwise silent room felt like a bomb counting down to her world collapsing around her. Brooke Lynn needed her mom to say something, anything. “Mommy?”

Her mother sighed. “I suppose this is my fault. Perhaps if you’d spent less time with your nanny, you wouldn’t have this… misplaced need for affection.”

Brooke swallowed thickly and shook her head. “This has nothing to do with Kyle. It’s just who I am. A-And I want you to still accept me.” Her eyes welled with tears and the strength to keep the dam from breaking was dissipating with every passing moment.

“Well I don’t really have any choice but to do that now do I?” she scoffed, then added “these days they call that child abuse,” flippantly. “You’re still my daughter, Brooke Lynn. Now please be a dear and go fetch me my wine.”

“Which glass?”

“Oh no, just bring me the bottle.”

[Present Day]

“No, I don’t got no fucking wine. Where d’you think I’d keep it? In a cooler with some caviar? Look, do you want the vodka or not?”

Brooke nodded and handed the girl a twenty-dollar bill. “Yes please,” she mumbled and exchanged it for a sixteen-ounce bottle of Smirnoff. Luckily it was a rare chilly evening on campus, allowing her to smuggle the bottle in her sweatshirt (while looking over her shoulder every ten seconds) all the way back to her room, everyone she passed none the wiser.

Luckier still, the room was empty when she returned to it, allowing her to make a cocktail of vodka and fruit punch and pour the artificially red mixture into a metallic water bottle. There was a split second’s hesitation.

Having never been drunk on vodka before, Brooke Lynn didn’t know what to expect from the experience. As it turned out, it was brief euphoria and dizzy bliss followed by becoming utter comatose. It was probably for the best – to be dead to the world by the time Vanessa returned. She wasn’t ready to talk to her – she wasn’t even entirely certain why she was so upset, other than it was obviously her fault, apparently. And she felt guilty – it pained her to be the reason why her sometimes-lover was hurt.

The next morning, Vanessa was woken up by the sound of Brooke Lynn groaning. “Damn you really hungover, huh?” she observed, noting that maybe karma had laid a hand in this. “Take some Advil and get ready. You ain’t getting outta class cause you lack self-control.”

“Ugh. So mean,” Brooke grumbled and pulled the pillow over her head.

“That’s life.”

Vanessa was dressed by the time Brooke Lynn got herself out of bed. “How the hell did you get that shit in here anyway?”

Brooke rubbed her eyes as she pulled herself together. “Bought it off some girl. Said she knows a guy. And that I ask too many questions,” she recalled. “It worked though. Got me good.”

“So, you just gonna drink til you feel better?”

“That's the plan.”

[November 20th, 2017]

Brooke caught her breath as the front door shut behind her. “Okay, we’re in the clear,” she exhaled, waving the wine bottle around like a trophy and parading it in front of her as they walked up to Detox’s bedroom.

“You sure your mom’s not gonna notice she’s a bottle short?” Her eyes scanned the label with casual interest before setting it down on her end table while Brooke Lynn shifted to sit comfortably on the bed.

After a couple of moments of struggling, Brooke dislodged the cork from the bottle and took a swig. “Nah, it’s like taking one jellybean from the whole bag,” she reasoned. “Besides, it’s not like I took an expensive bottle, this is a dessert wine.”

“So, what would you call a breakfast wine?”

“The first sign of a drinking problem.”

Detox laughed and shoved her, narrowly avoiding a wine spill on her duvet. She then snatched the bottle from Brooke to down a long swig. “She still not down with the gay thing?”

There was a wince and a moment of tensing up before Brooke sighed and lay down. “If you call ‘a mounting resentment due in part to the blow in social standing from rampant gossip mixed with casual homophobia’ not being down with the gay thing, then yes.”

“You know, just ‘yes’ would’ve sufficed,” she huffed, then her expression softened. “I’m sorry shit’s still rocky between you guys. I’m sure it’ll get better eventually. You talk to Miss West about it?”

Brooke reclaimed the wine and her finger traced around the mouth of the bottle and she stared into it, as if the answer to her problems rested at the bottom. “Yeah, but she always wants to do something about it. Her heart’s in the right place but I’m not always looking for a solution. I just wanna get things off my chest sometimes.”

And her friend listened intently, nodding slowly. “Maybe you should just tell her that. Use your words like a big girl and then we can celebrate with wine instead.”

[Present Day]

Brooke poked her head into Nina’s classroom. “You got a minute?” She let herself in before getting verbal confirmation and sat herself at the edge of the teacher’s desk.

“I was actually hoping you’d come by sooner rather than later.” Nina confessed casually, not wanting to ambush her. But immediately, she saw the suspicion and hesitance in her student’s expression. “I know you were hungover in class. Think you’re okay to tell me why?”

And Brooke Lynn appreciated the way she never pressured her into divulging more than she was ready to. “I had...a falling out with Vanessa. I don’t know exactly what I said, but I’m sure it was my fault,” she sighed, “because it always fucking is.”

Nina reached out and squeezed her hand. “Come on, you know that’s not true,” she gently assured. “Have you talked to her about it?”

Brooke bit her lip and shook her head. “I don’t know how.”

She tugged on the teenager’s hand until they made eye contact. “Listen to me, Brooke Lynn, even though I know you don’t want to hear it.” Nina waited until she had her full attention. “You need to learn how to let your guard down, even if it’s just one baby step at a time. I know you like Vanessa a whole lot – more than you’re willing to admit, I’m sure. I’m not saying you have to put your heart on the line in some like, dramatic gesture, but I think you’d be opening yourself up to a great deal of happiness if you let yourself feel.”

As hard as it was to admit – in fact she may never do so outright – Brooke knew Nina was right. Of course, that didn’t mean anything in regards to her ability to actually follow through on that sort of thing. It just was not in her nature – it wasn’t in the nature of anyone in her family. “Maybe I can try…”

“After all, we don’t want a repeat of last time, right?”

Brooke yanked herself away abruptly, face flushing red. “Don’t… don’t talk about that,” and before Nina could respond, she turned on her heel and briskly left the classroom. The last thing she needed was to reopen old scars.

[March 2nd, 2018]

“You know, I’ve tolerated a lot of your weird post-outing behavior shit, but I’m not giving you a free pass on this one.” Detox clicked her tongue and shook her head. “How the fuck do you have the gall to flake out on someone like Kameron Michaels?”

Brooke gave an exaggerated eyeroll and popped a couple grapes in her mouth, eating them before answering. “It wasn’t even like, an actual date. Relax.”

Detox stared at her incredulously. “You guys have been all up on each other for like, almost two weeks. But as soon as she wants to go out with you, you drop off the face of the fucking earth! And I’d understand if it was pretty much anyone else but come on bitch – she can flip a straight girl in her sleep. Not a lot of public-school girls can pull that off around here.”

“Then she won’t miss me,” she shrugged flippantly, looking off into the distance instead of her eyes drifting anywhere near her friend.

“How’s convincing yourself of that going?”

“Swimmingly, thanks for asking.”

Detox scoffed and grabbed a handful of grapes from Brooke’s bowl. “You’re so full of shit,” she said with her mouth full.

Brooke responded with an indignant huff. “Maybe so. But it works.” The definition of working was undoubtedly skewed, but she lacked any desire to address it. She could take care of herself and not get hung up on a fling – or she’d keep telling herself that until she believed it.

And as it turned out, believing it had proven to be a near impossible hurdle to overcome and she was suffering the consequences of her own denial. But there was no way she was going to turn to Detox when this realization dawned on her – so she went to the only other person she knew she could trust.

“You look like you’ve had a rough week. Honestly, if you hadn’t come in, I’d have sought you out myself. I’m worried about you, Brooke Lynn.” Nina’s tone was gentle and kind, but there was a heavy layer of concern paired with it. And it was sincere – she had always made it her duty to take care of her students’ emotional health – especially the ones in the LGBTQ+ community, because she knew exactly what these frightened, wide-eyed girls were going through.

After some uncomfortable fidgeting and shifting around, Brooke nodded. “What happened was… I was seeing this girl casually – like, I thought we were just having fun, you know? Then she asked me on a date, and I said yes because it would’ve just been too rude not to. But then I bailed last minute, and I did apologize, and she said it was okay but… I just feel awful.”

To Nina’s credit, she was a naturally great listener, which, unsurprisingly, proved to be a massive strength in her career. She nodded attentively but never tried to interrupt or talk over her – it was imperative that students like Brooke Lynn saw her as someone they could freely and openly talk about their problems with. “Well, let’s start here – how do you feel about her?”

The first time Brooke had gone to Nina for help, she had found it jarring – it had been the first time any adult had expressed any interest in hearing about her struggles – so of course she had been keeping them all bottled up. But that day she had spent nearly two hours after the final bell rang sitting in that classroom and pouring her heart out. As much of a relief as it had been, she was left feeling nauseous the rest of that evening. Clearly, doing that with any sort of regularity has posed an issue, which is why she replied to the question with a shrug and a ‘I don’t know’ noise.

Nina didn’t buy it. “I think you do know.”

Brooke sighed in the way one would expect a pouty teenager would. “I… Yeah, I guess I like her. But I know I don’t want to date her. I don’t want a girlfriend yet.”

“Do you think it’s actually because you don’t want to? Or because you think you can’t?”

Another shrug and ‘I don’t know’ sound.

“You’ve got to work with me here, Brooke.”

This time, Brooke was at least trying her best. “It just seems like too much. I got enough going on and I feel like a relationship is just too much for me.”

“That’s a good start, you should tell her that.”

[Present Day]

“You might wanna make sure you look extra nice before you go into the dining hall today.”

Brooke had quickly learned to take everything Scarlet told her with a grain of salt. Still, her interest was piqued. “What, are they doing a news report or something? Some sort of circle-jerk of praise for being such good samaritans to us lot?”

Scarlet shook her head without any other reaction. “Nah, but a bunch of girls from your neck of the woods are volunteering, figured you might wanna put on a nice face in case you run into someone. Or maybe a paper bag over your head would do the trick,” she mused.

“Fuck my life,” Brooke groaned. “Wait for me?” she asked as she ducked back into her room. And yes, Scarlet was still there when she returned. “Too much?”

“Doubt it,” she hummed as they took the now familiar path from housing to the dining hall.

As luck would have it, most of the girls were college aged. It seemed like they were the kind that were doing this in lieu of a summer internship or something of the sort. Brooke was just about to get in line confidently when her tray dropped to the ground and her eyes went wide. “No fucking way.”

“Someone you know?”

There, in all her golden haired, tan, inked skin, toned bodied glory was Kameron Michaels. She looked just like Brooke remembered – give or take a new tattoo or two. And she was there as if it had been her job the whole time – serving the girls, smiling and making small talk – it was a stark contrast to the otherwise introverted personality she was once so familiar with.

“Yeah, something like that,” she exhaled once the initial shock had settled.

Scarlet tilted her head, observing the other girl. “You seem tense. Bad blood?”

“Not bad… It’s definitely awkward, though,” Brooke explained, muttering, “Fuck, I hope Vanessa doesn’t run into her,” under her breath.

“Too late.”

Sure enough, Vanessa had been on the line the whole time and was now face to face with Kameron. Brooke’s heart sunk to the pit of her stomach and her throat felt tight. “You know that part in a romcom where everything suddenly goes really bad really fast?”

“Of course.”

“This is it.” Her voice was high and strained. “This is definitely it.”