if all the world's a stage, [TK // OPEN]

[Ivan Philips]

then all there's to drink is alcohol.

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He didn't have a problem. There was no problem. Well like, no real problem. It wasn't a problem for him. Hell, who cared that he was a bit of a drunk? He just liked alcohol. And it was his liver. Besiiides, Ivan was a bit of a lightweight. It didn't really take much to get him drunk. Which was a good thing, right? It meant less alcohol inside of him, less money spent on it, blahblahblah. Basically, he could have just a few shots and be mostly there. Still, he liked him some whiskey.

Normally, he'd hide his picked-poison in an ordinary bottle. Vodka in a watter bottle, whiskey in a bottle that once held tea, because of the colors and all. Yeah, sure, he was an alcoholic, but he was a crafty one. So there. Today he'd picked whiskey, because it by far tasted better, and it was by far just better if you know what I mean. He didn't know why he'd felt compelled to come here of all places, but he'd come to the auditorium, and it was fun. The curtains of the stage had been parted, he'd turned the lights on, and after breaking into the prop room, Ivan had sat himself center stage. But not just center stage--center stage, with a feather boa, a crown, and in a wheel chair.

If you haven't already noticed, he was already a little bit... drunk.

Being drunk and rather bored, he'd whipped out ol' mister phone, and awaaayy the slurry text message went. oditoreeum noww im boref He had no idea he'd been that drunk, and that the text was that horribly misspelled. He didn't know if TK would get it, either. But whatever.

"Start wearing purple, wearing purple. Start wearing purple for me now," he slurred, moving the wheelchair in circles with the plastic bottle in his lap. "All your sanity and wits, they will all vanish." Tossing the crown to the floor, Ivan stared up at the stage lights, soon tossing the boa back as well.

"I promise, it's just a matter of time..."

[T.K. Sanders]

Boringboringboringboringboring....

How many times was she going to flip through the channels on her T.V like there was actually something on. Nothing was ever on. Hence the reason why she rarely watched t.v. A sigh sounded throughout the empty dorm room as T.K flopped onto her stomach and dully stared the snow covered t.v screen. Work, she willed it. Freakin' show something good for once.

Only she would have absolutely nothing to do on a Friday night. Sure, sure, there were probably some student's out there who had nothing to do either but that's not the point. The point is, she never had anything to do. Ever. And that's just sad. Cause she was seventeen and ready to have fun and well, to be honest, she really didn't have many friends. The majority of them were guys. And sadly, the majority of them were gay. How very, truly sad. So what the crap was she supposed to do in a place like this where all guys wanted to do was screw and forget your name?

That very reason was why she never bothered to flirt with any of the guys here. They all seemed the same, acted alike. They were all jerks who wanted to something to have fun and be able to drop when it was convinient for them and that wasn't T.K's idea of a good time. What was T.K's idea of a good time? She never went out so maybe that was why she didn't really know. Yeah, she went out, but nothing new really. Nothing was ever interesting. Everything was so--

Her thoughts broke at the sound of her cell phone ringing. Nice, blue and green ribbons picked up with the sound and wrapped them selves into the air. the sight was familiar. The same colors she always saw for this music. She grabbed her cell phone from its spot on the dresser and read the message on way to going back to the bed but short, an eyebrow raised. No, text's were common for her. Her fingers were always working the keyboard. But text's from Ivan weren't that common. They were kinda close as it was, but he'd never really invited her to hang out or just or anything. T.K pondered the text over for a minute before throwing on socks and a pair of vans and grabbed her simple black and white hoodie. She was bored after and all, and Ivan never failed to entertain.

"Start wearing purple, wearing purple. Start wearing purple for me now,"

She could hear him before she even entered the supposedly locked auditorium and cringed at the sound of off key singing. Right away there were crooked shapes filling the air, most of them grey or dark. That wasn't usual, even for him. She passed the rows of chairs without interest, her focus on Ivan and almost burst into laughing at the scrawny kid in the wheel chair. A crown and apparently there was a boa, too, littered the stage and she bit her lip to keep the laughter in. "Well, well," She said with a impish smile. "Ivan Philips, ladies and gentleman; tonights entertainment!"

[Ivan Philips]

Oh, believe us, he could put on the entertainment needed. Entertainment worthy of Broadway herself. Okay, so maybe just a bar off Broadway where the people dance on the bar on a dare. But that’s beside the point. Standing, Ivan ran to the edge of the stage to greet TK, careful not to fall off like he was sure he would. Sober he could stop himself, but not like this.

“I thought you were gonna not come. And stay home, and not come.” Screw remembering what you’d already said. “Wanna see my costume?” Too excited, and drunk, to wait for an answer, Ivan jumped up and ran to get his things—the boa and crown, and a few others that were waiting in the wings. Finally, he came back out in the red velvet bathrobe and clearly fake gray mustache. Grinning like an idiot, he held out the boa, crown, and tacky prom dress from the 80’s to TK, along with the half emptied bottle of booze. “I get to be Hugh Hefner, so you can be Princess Diana.”

Once again, he stood, skipping back to his wheel chair. Instantly, he reached for the bottle to take a hearty sip, soon remembering that TK had the bottle. Shit. “TK, wanna bring sommathat over heeere?”

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