Note: Theres a scene below that belongs to Sarah J Maas. I take no claim over it. I simply rewrote it a bit to fit my story. Enjoy!
Summary: He thinks she wants nothing to do with him. She thinks he can’t remember her. Aelin and Rowan were friends once upon a time. But high school drove them apart. However, one night - one party - is about to change not only their lives, but the lives of their friend as well.
Aelin knew what this day was going to hold. She could already tell. It was going to be horrible. Drama-filled. Downright dreadful. And here was why: The Havilliard’s were coming.
Aelin had zero problems with Dorian coming over for dinner. It was the rest of his family the she’d rather leave outside. His brother, Hollin, was a little devil. Aelin always wanted a sibling (Elide and Aedion didn’t count) but every time she saw Hollin, she couldn’t help but be grateful it was just her. Then there was Georgina Havilliard, who had her nose so far in the air Aelin was sure she could see her brain. And of course, Mr. Havilliard, Dorian’s father. He refused to be called anything but Mr. Havilliard, never mind the fact their families had been friends forever. Aelin wasn’t even sure she knew Mr. Havilliard’s actual name.
But the Havilliard’s weren’t the only thing about the day that was horrible. Because Aedion and his family were coming over also.
"I used to watch you do that as a kid. I thought you were so cool."
"What did I tell you? Guns aren't cool. They're just for protection."
"Right. Dad, I know this is hard for everyone but I feel like this is hardest for you. Can I tell you something? When I was sixteen, Barry and I switched rooms so that I could sneak out of the house past curfew."
"Wait a second, you said that was because you didn't like the noise across the street."
"Yeah in my defense, my curfew was 8:00 p.m.!"
When I was fourteen I was introduced to characterization like I had never experienced before. I read a confusing, layered story I had to work to understand in a way that I had never been challenged. I was fascinated.
When I was fifteen I dropped out of high school and enrolled myself in college. I was frustrated and in way over my head but in the middle of studying for a biology exam at two in the morning I found myself crawling to my laptop to cry and read a particularly amazing update.
When I was sixteen I switched my major from Biotech to English to the disdain of everyone around me. I leaned my head against my bedroom wall and promised god and hussie and whoever else probably wasn’t listening that if I ever won an Oscar I was going to thank Dave Strider in my acceptance speech in front of the entire audience and national television if they just helped me through this change.
When I was seventeen a friend requested a DJ Homestuck AU and I wrote and wrote but nothing was turning out right and the characters and settings and plot points were shifting between my fingers and forming into something unrecognizable and they shaped and exploded and pieced themselves back together until I had something original. Something unique. Something scary and outside my comfort zone. An original story.
When I was eighteen I wrote a one-act play about a queer kid about to jump off a hotel balcony and the dry-witted, chain-smoking prostitute to his left who, through a series of sarcastic conversations, convinced him to get McDonald’s with her instead. It won a competition and was performed live. I sat in the audience next to my parents and guiltily wondered if anyone noticed these characters were based on Dirk and Alpha Rose.
When I am nineteen Homestuck ends. I sit at my kitchen table processing this fact. I think of all the little ways Homestuck has contributed to my growth. My success. My future.
I would really like to thank Hussie and this comic for all they’ve done for me.