thespencervanderbilt

[thespencervanderbilt]

Spencer remained quiet for a few moments after Marcus was done. He knew that he had hit a nerve that Marcus wouldn't take in a good way. Spencer almost regretted it but a part of him needed Marcus know these things. Spencer didn't like the way his best friend reacted to his honesty about it all sometimes but Spencer would take anything that Marcus threw at him. Some yelling, or even a punch which was probably well deserved... Spencer would take it. Spencer didn't just say things, and he didn't say Marcus was miserable to make him upset. "I'm sorry I said that," he finally replied solemnly. "I know how thing are, but you could have used that to your advantage you know. Make him believe that you really are his friend and in the end you'll have him doing more than you thought he ever could in your favor. No one can humanize or do anything to you that you don't want, Marcus. Play and use him like the toy he is."

"I’m not miserable." Marcus answers almost all too quickly, looking at Spencer defensively. He wasn’t miserable. He refused to be called out as miserable, it was an insult to the years of control he had manifested. "I am comfortable with my decisions, Spencer. I’m happy to do it." Glancing down t his pen, he can only shrug. "I told him the truth; we weren’t friends. You’re my friend. Victoria’s my friend. But someone like Morgan? A kid who would turn on me the very second a new opportunity arises? It may be admirable from a business man standpoint, but not from someone looking into friendship — not that I am, mind you. Frankly, I couldn’t care less about him. He was right about that." Scoffing, he looks at Spencer almost too wound up than the norm. "He’s just an ungrateful little kid who thinks he can humanize me so that he can take advantage.”

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Your sarcasm is almost as good as your attempts at studying while I'm around.

It is for that exact reason, yeah. How did you know? I’m eternally blinded by your radiance.

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And why is that Jeremy? I bet it's because of my irresistible charisma and devilishly handsome good looks. 

I still stand by the fact that I don’t ignore you in class. You’re pretty … hard to ignore.

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Oh, how nice. I'm very shocked at the amount of things you have going on Jeremy. You've got more time taken up in a day that Obama does. You do study in class to ignore me because lets be honest, I can get a passing grade without having to study. I'm not just a pretty face you know, I've got brains too. Imagine the threat I'd be if I could enter the Miss Universe competition.

See that? This little diary contains my study schedule. Increments of five minutes, with little squeezes during breaks and in between classes. I don’t study in class to ignore you. I do it to convince you to do the same.

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"I did start out with that very young, but what can you do? I know it's your responsibility but when you have no interest in something that is making you miserable, you'd think your parents would have a little consideration of how their oldest son feels. But pathetic does cover it for others, I shamefully fall under that list." He crosses his arms over his chest, raising his brows in a bit of surprise. "He said you don't care about him? Well it's not much of my business but when Marcus Beresford takes someone under his wing like that, it's not to have frappucinos fetched and to take his calls like a second rate secretary... So what, you let him go without a word?"

"More like the reason for your sexual awakening. I do it because it’s my responsibility. Everyone around her trots around like they aren’t indebted to their parents, or held accountable for the lives of many. It’s quite pathetic. Morgan?" Numbly thumbing his Mont Blanc pen, he glances up at the screen then towards Spencer. "Just threw some fit about how I didn’t care about him.”

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I'll refrain from making fun of you. Cross my heart and hope to die.

I don't think I know anyone in Blackbourne that likes to knit. Scarves are a start though, if it's not too much trouble you should try kitting one for me. Preferably in a dark red color? I find that dark reds go with most of my clothing. Just saying. No sexy sleepovers with sexy pillow fights for girl time?.... kidding.

It depends on my mood. I'll either be up to something either good or not good with Marcus, taking trips to the nearest beach or lake, sometimes I'll read a book. But that's just relatively normal things. I won't make mention of other things I enjoy doing on my free time.

I’m sure you’ll find them painfully boring, Spencer. But since you’re intrigued I’ll tell you, just promise not to make fun.

I’ve recently learned how to knit, so I’ve been attempting that. I doubt I’ll be making jumpers for anyone any time soon, but I’ve got the hang of scarves. If I want to relax I usually read in bed or watch something on netflix. And if I want to have some fun with the girls I’ll suggest we play a board game or go shopping. Although, shopping is more of an addiction really.

What about you?

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She does seem more your type but what can I say, she was quite cute and I was seven. Love at first sight. You do too many of these, you do too many things for your father..period. Morgan? It's been about a week, what did our little red riding hood do to fuck up already?

I wouldn’t think of her as your type. More mine, really. A proposal for my father’s new deal. It’d be much easier if Morgan was — Nevermind.

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Oh? Do share what those things are Elena. I'm intrigued.

Quite good, I’d say. While some might not agree that what I consider to be fun is fun, I can always find something to do if I’m bored.

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I've only seen you do school related things once, and that's in the one class we have together. But I have a feeling you do there only to have a reason to ignore me. You wound me sometimes.

What? I learn about things fine. You shouldn’t laze about and come study or something.

[thespencervanderbilt]

You heard right, Alicia Silverstone was a babe in that. She still is. Don't mind if I do but what's this proposal about? 

Right. Well, I put on Clueless. I heard it was a hit. Grab a drink, I just need to work on this proposal.

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That I have no doubt of, Elena. What about you, how good are you at making our own fun?

I’m sure you can find a way to entertain yourself, Spencer. You seem like the kind of person that can easily make their own fun.

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Ugh, forgive me Jeremy I sometimes forget about that. Although you don't always do your part where learning is concern.

Sometimes, like four percent of the year, Heathfield is a learning institution without the abundance of shrubbery sex.

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Wednesday nights are my nights off. I thought you knew that, it's why I always end up at your door. I thought someone else covered Wednesdays.

As campus slut, isn’t it your responsibility to be entertaining the masses?

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You can hear a pin drop outside from an entire mile away. And I thought this place couldn't get any more dull. 

Not even the campus sluts are rustling up the bushes with anyone. 

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I think he’s very lonely. Lonelier than he lets on. Maybe lonelier than he even realizes.

The Royal Tenenbaums. (via theburnthatkeepseverything)

[thespencervanderbilt]

It was a rare thing to see a girl making an attempt at leaving a Blackbourne party. Any girl that wasn't a Blackbourne was always dying for a chance to get into one of these if there had been some sort of guest list. With the exception of Kingston girls. They always seemed to be fine being completely set apart from the Blackbourne's. This one clearly didn't fit the role of desperate to be a top Blackbourne look though. "No, they weren't," he replied in agreement with the girl.

"Your bottle?" Spencer asked, his voice laced with a hint of a laugh at the end. He could count the girls in the room that had already asked him if he wanted to get a drink with them and he had said not to each and every single one of them. Not even rejecting any of them had lightened his mood. What a night for a horrible person to revel in the horribleness they had decided to acknowledge tonight. "You're not even twenty-one yet." Spencer remembered the age he started drinking, it was far younger than eighteen but no one seemed to even give a damn that he was more in tune with alcohol than he was with anything else. At least he never had a problem with it. "What kind of person would I be if I let little Miss Piper run off with an entire bottle of gin all to herself? It would be very irresponsible of us both."

Whatever powers that be that found amusement in documenting the continuous decline of her night, Piper scorned them. She grimaced as she watched, helpless as the bottle continued to roll. For a moment she’d thought it had stopped, not too far from where she stood but then as it was retrieved from the ground, the figure she’d initially thought was some kind of pseudo-realistic cut out turned mobile and she was startled––and embarrassed––to realize he was in fact real. Her cheeks flushed, prompting her to wonder it was out of humiliation or anger. Considering her easy-going nature, she guessed it had been the prior. A cough and a completely intentional; tug of her hood higher over her head had her slinking back against the wall nearest to him, still eyeing the bottle with longing. “Well, as you can see.. I didn’t exactly follow the dress code.” In flannel and a loose hoodie, it was an understatement. “So yeah.. The 20s weren’t all that great anyways.”

She looked at the girls in their Swarovski-imbedded dresses, little strands of sequins twirling as they danced and found it ironic that she, who had become so accustomed to becoming the many facets of herself, had turned up her nose at this particular face, while her Blacbourne family did not. Oh, how the tables have turned. But she stood by her point, the 20s could be romanticized as much as any era, covered up in glitz and glamor, but for whatever reason she disliked them now more than ever. It was probably the irrational, immature four year old in her that spurned this reaction, and yet she stood by it, despite knowing that. “So… Can I have my bottle back pretty please?” Piper gave him an imploring look, hoping he could relate to the soul-draining displeasure she felt at spending more time at the party. More so–-She really just wanted her alcohol back. 

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A smirk cracked almost effortlessly onto his expression. It felt almost too painful to even try but he had to because the words that had just slipped from his best friend's mouth were now ringing in his ears. Tonight isn't the night. Marcus was right as he always was about everything. Sure, most would find it incredibly insufferable that the knowledge only a God from the Heavens should know would all be wrapped up inside the mind of a Beresford. But Spencer didn't, it was more of a blessing because despite ow well he manged to keep things together up unit the past few days he was ready to explode. Spencer had to remind himself that there were people there that had a lot more to deal with than he did, but he was sure that no one even knew or would understand what was going on inside his head even if Spencer himself described his thoughts with precise detail. No one, with the exception of Marcus of course. Clearing his throat he set his glass aside and put n a much more believable smile as he turned back to the dark haired male. "Fun is exactly what this party needs. Any suggestions, great one?"

Together, the two gained infamy throughout the campus for their deviant acts of transgression. Most shuddered at the thoughts of blazing past the two, in fear that the scent of Hell itself would waft over them. They were Titans, the gatekeeper and ruler of Hell on Earth, and whatever outlandish depiction could be made of the pair. But what neither of them chose to admit, even to themselves let alone one another, was their humanity. Still, he felt it. Marcus had always been in tune with the way Spencer’s mind worked. The blonde, while controlled and often unfeeling, fell prey to such melancholy that Marcus could do very little but stir him away from the skid. “Perk up, Dorian Gray.” Marcus jokes dryly as he slides beside his best friend. “Let’s have some fun. Tonight isn’t the night that we suddenly realize how awfully tragic and dysfunctional we are.” His voice laces it as a joke, but they both knew better. It was a silent cue to pull it together. Conceal it, don’t feel it. Put on a show. Not because Marcus couldn’t tolerate Spencer’s humanity seeping from the cracks — albeit it had plenty to do with it, but because neither of them would recover.