[Although he didn’t know exactly what was up and he could be wrong, based on the past couple of months, Brit could guess what had happened to his girlfriend and thus eager to hopefully comfort her. Ever since his fight with Ashton Brit was apprhensive about going to her place and possibly encountering him, mostly because he didn’t exactly know what he would do but since Evie needed him so urgently he used the spare key and just went up heading straight for her bed room. He knocked twice quickly then entered] Hey, what’s going on? 

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I'm wanting, needing your love. || Brit & Evie

After Brit went off to apologize his sister, Evie bounded home in the hopes that her brother would still be there. It was nearly impossible to keep the secrets of their little day out to herself, but she’d done it thus far; her heart was breaking, all those weeks of lightness completely unknown to her now. So, instead of searching for Ash as she had planned, she ended up focusing on Brit and Ridley once she entered the house - how she was able to help fix them when her relationship with her brother was a mess. Slumping up the stairs and into her room, she slammed onto her mattress, giving way into the quiet sobs that seemed to have a constant presence in her life - hoping that Brit would be preoccupied enough with his sister to cancel their plans and avoid seeing her in this state.

This kind of party is what I'm betting my folks didn't want me involved with

But hey, they brought me here, I’m just following instructions. Fuck the pics the next day I’m all in on this one  

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I wonder how everyone would react to knowing some of the fucked up things their parents did back in the day.

I mean these permanent records include criminal histories, brief psychological evaluations from the school shrink, detention records, and there’s even a ‘speculation’ section because of some gossip blog or something that used to be around. Moral of the story? Our parents were animals, Rosewood. Plain and simple. And reading these records is like going to the zoo. 

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Is it okay if I call you mine? || Brit & Evie

The theatre district was a bit of a mess to navigate, so Evie eventually relented and hopped on Brit’s back to make shoving through the crowds easier. She directed him with a few playful whispers in his ear, eventually leading him to the exterior of the Palace Theatre - which was empty at the moment, given that it wasn’t the most popular choice to house shows. Letting herself down, she dug through her clutch to fish out a pair of keys, dangling them in front of Brit with a smirk before turning them into the stage door. “C’mon - let’s be somewhat stealthy about this before the tourists start staring.”

I can't find the V.I.P. section at this party

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And I still don’t know if this place is secure from the paps. Cant get caught drinking again right now. 
It's times like these where I'm glad I don't have the same taste in booze as my father.

I don’t think Rosewood parties carry aged whiskey.

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bittersweet symphony ||Brevie

[Evie had been Britain’s silver lining for a while now. In the midsts of everything in the past couple of months; searching for and (sort of) finding his parents with devastating results, Ridley’s pregnancy, his relationship with Cassie changing and subsequently difting, him feeling utterly completely lost and more like the black sheep of his family than ever before  once he graduated, etc. Evie and their relationship was the one thing he had that turned out for the good. And just like that everything had changed after he hit Ashton. It was a no brainer in Britain’s eyes whose side Evie would be siding with, a sad but true fact that she’d choose Ashton even in his most wrong moments, and because of that it was as if he could see the end of their relationship just over the horizon. He didn’t exactly know when it was coming, but it had to be soon. In the mean time, he had gifts to give her. He was a little nervous to see her (one of the oddest things in the world) and wore a slightly nicer shirt than usual, and even ditched his usual hat before heading over to her place with his presents. When he got there it was the first time that he didn’t feel welcome (also very odd) and instead of just walking in like he usually would, he rang the doorbell, hoping like hell whoever answered wasn’t one of the Bueller men.] 

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