010: Fire, take me home.

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~🧠~TABULA RASAseason three- episode nineteen(3x19)~🎼~

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~🧠~
TABULA RASA
season three- episode nineteen
(3x19)
~🎼~

THEY USED TO BE AFRAID TO FALL ASLEEP.

That's where the dark could get them, haunt them, taunt them. So, for a while, they didn't close their eyes. Marianne and Hilary would stare at the stars, let the sky swallow them, and hope the alcohol that was making them feel hollow and numb wouldn't bite them in the ass in the future.

Jasmine Hayward never deserved Hilary Roe. Marianne thought this as she stared down from the bleachers, hands stuffed into the deep pockets of the leather jacket she was wearing. She stared down at the uniform-clad friends, stretching in such a way that the teeny-tiny skirts they wore rid up to expose them. Marianne was certain she wasn't the only one who stared (even if it was just for a fleeting moment).

They were fighting again, likely about something juvenile. Jasmine had a habit of taking her stresses out on others, where Hilary had a habit of taking it for the sake of making her friend feel better.

Marianne supposed she could relate in a way.

She hoped that would change about her as she grew older.

A hand extended before her eyes, a lit cigarette pinched between two fingers. She accepted it almost instinctively, like it was muscle memory (which it was—really, the school should make a plaque and nail it to the very seats her and Cam occupied now, they were there often enough). The No Smoking sign at the bottom of the bleachers was ironic.

"When's the cast list going up?" He then asked, rubbing his hands together to heat them up. Marianne's eyes flickered back to Jasmine, Hilary and a flock of Cheerleaders then, wondering how they could stand the cold in those uniforms.

"Next week, I think," Marianne muttered, narrowing her eyes as she watched Jasmine glance over her shoulder again (she had being doing it consistently for the last handful of minutes). When she followed her gaze, she pursed her lips in thought. Jasmine had always wanted love, Marianne knew. And if she couldn't get her hands on Sammie, she may as well get the man that stands by his side for most of the day. "I wish it was sooner. Would get Jasmine off my back. God," she muttered, rolling her eyes, before inhaling a puff of the cigarette again and passing it back.

"You should've heard her in Bio, talking about how her getting Sandy would push boundaries and give the production an edge or something. For, like, 45 minutes. I don't know if she'll be more insufferable if she gets it or if she doesn't," Cam said, leaning back in his seat as he exhaled, surveying the field before them just like she did.

"She'll get it," Marianne said, decidedly. "Mrs. Dreyfus has a bad habit of typecasting, and Jasmine may be insufferable, but she's a golden girl. The perfect Sandy." Marianne bit her lip in thought, before speaking again with only a hint of sourness. "Rizzo's got more dimension anyway. And the best song."

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