Just like a Circus {Soren}

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

RISING UP, STRAIGHT TO THE TOP

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Had the guts, got the glory[/font]
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Yeah, sure. Hot cheerleader chicks were fucking hot, that was pretty damn true. But when Soren had said to the soccer bros “Let’s go out tonight, bitches,” he’d meant that in the sense of “Let’s all go crash some club someplace and have all you guys get drunk so I can go finish reading Breaking Dawn in the bathroom because I fucking want to know what happens to Jacob goddamnit,” as opposed to in the sense of “let’s all go to Coney Island and go out for fucking pizza and talk all god damn night”. And he’d had to drive, forty fucking minutes from Manhattan to the south end of Brooklyn, because…okay, his bros were his bros, but there was still no way he was getting in a goddamn car with any of them at the wheel.

And Soren was getting antsy. What he really wanted to fucking do was get on the goddamn rides already. Seriously, that ferris wheel was looking like the shit right now. But nope, you clearly couldn’t ride a ferris wheel without drinking at least twenty-six beers beforehand, at least if the soccer bros had anything to say about it. They’d divided into booths already, the dudes and the chicks pairing off and chatting it up. Soren glanced over the candy. His eyes roved over some chick in a red dress, some other chick in what could have been maybe considered a blue dress were it about seventeen feet longer, some other chick who looked pretty hot but was already liplocked with Wilson…

And then he found her. Kerli Stewart.

Soren pushed his way through the crowd, exchanging nods, fist-pounds, and bro-hugs with the guys he knew. He felt this weird tingling sensation in his hands and feet, like he got sometimes just before he was about to take a PK, or about to start the ball for a huge game. But…no. Soren wasn’t nervous. Soren Somersett had chatted up and hooked approximately seven trillion chicks in his lifetime. Being nervous about a girl was like a normal person being nervous about walking, or a fucking bird being nervous about flying. Nope, Soren wasn’t nervous. Not at all.

He slid into the booth next to Kerli, who was eyeing the menu. ”Hey girl.” He grinned. ”See anything ya like?” He gestured to the crowd, which was already starting to get a little wilder than Soren was super comfortable with: he could already hear the preliminary screams and tinkle of breaking glasses that he knew would slowly escalate to Soren-needs-to-be-designated-driver-mode, as it always did. ”Nice place they found for us, eh?”

Whoya With? Kerlz
Wordz: 325
Notez: SORRY CRAPPY TEMPLATE I’M SO OUT OF IT
Whatcha Wearin?: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=45143022
Credits: This template was made by MONICA of OUAC. Don’t be stealin now, ya hear?

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

RISING UP, STRAIGHT TO THE TOP

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Had the guts, got the glory[/font]
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Soren reclined in his seat, chuckling slightly as he glanced around the crowded room. Idiots, he thought to himself, sipping from his cup of whatever the fuck his bros had shoved in his face and watching the smashing of bottles and writhing, sweaty people raging around him. Idiots, all of them. He sat back passively as the world raved, wondering when one of these fuckers would be inebriated enough to stumble over and make out with him. Soren had been waiting a while now for some lip action. He inhaled deeply, wrinkling his nose slightly as the smells of weed and cigarettes comingled in his nostrils. Yuck. Seriously. How the fuck could they stand the smell of all that shit?

“Uhm, there’s a lot of people.”

Divergent analysis at its finest. Soren restrained the snarky comment that was bursting at his lips. No snarky comments. Not here. Not now.

Damnit. He was Soren fucking Somersett. How the hell was he supposed to not be a smartass?

”Yeah. Kinda claustrophobic.” Not that Soren had ever been claustrophobic or anything, but the whole part of these party shindigs where everyone completely lost all concept of personal space was still kind of weird to him. You know, being a decent person and all. Shit, was ‘claustrophobic’ a word he was supposed to know? Well, they probably used it on like, Jersey Shore at some point. Demographics and all that shit. Yeah. ”You wanna maybe, uh…” Soren cleared his throat. ”Go somewhere? And talk for a while?”

Shit. Had that been the right thing to say? Probably not. Maybe he should’ve gone the smartass route after all.

“It’s not bad. But it is a little crowed with all the people joining.”

”You’re telling me, girl.” Soren winked and stood up, stretching and running a hand through his sleek hair. ”Watcha say?” He bobbed his head to the music slightly, biting his lip and glancing at the tranquil sidewalk outside.

Whoya With? Kerlz
Wordz: 325
Notez: SORRY CRAPPY TEMPLATE I’M SO OUT OF IT
Whatcha Wearin?: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=45143022
Credits: This template was made by MONICA of OUAC. Don’t be stealin now, ya hear?

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

RISING UP, STRAIGHT TO THE TOP

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Had the guts, got the glory[/font]
[/center]

Soren loved being outdoors, even when outdoors was actually like, the sidewalk. But who gave a shit? He was out of that raucous hellhole of a party, with this bangin’ chick right behind him. Seriously, who the hell had picked this place for the party anyway? Soren could have named like, ten clubs that had way hotter girls, cheaper beer, and were closer to their apartment building. Jesus fucking Christ.

But they were here now, at Coney Island, the coolest amusement park around. And if the other dudes weren’t going to take advantage of that, well, Soren Somersett was. He hadn’t driven all the way down to goddamn Brooklyn for nothing.

“I—yeah, sure. This is just a little much for me.”

”Wouldn’t ever want to make you uncomfortable,” Soren replied, grinning and reaching out to take her hand. ”You don’t seem like someone who parties hard,” he remarked, glancing over her face. She had this weird like, timid demeanor about her. Not necessarily shy, but just hesitant. Like she wasn’t fully invested in whatever it was she was doing. Soren was curious about that. He liked chicks who needed to be led. He was a natural born leader. At least, he liked to think so.

“Where to?”

Soren would have been super happy to stand there on the sidewalk for the next like, four hours, and just watch the people move before them like little ants. But of course, bitches always had to be moving. So he glanced quickly at the surrounding area, latching onto the first thing he saw. ”Ferris wheel’s right over there.” He inclined his head to the left. ”You down?”

”Nice night, isn’t it?” he added, glancing longingly towards the beach, where a bunch of kids were playing a pick-up soccer game. Everyone at home in Grandin would be out on the field tonight, kicking the ball back and forth like they owned the world and weren’t takin’ shit from anyone. Fuck, Soren missed those Florida sunsets. And he missed soccer on the beach. But what New York had that Grandin would never, never have was Kerli Stewart.

And ferris wheels. One of which he led her towards.

Whoya With? Kerlz
Wordz: 325
Notez: SORRY CRAPPY TEMPLATE I’M SO OUT OF IT
Whatcha Wearin?: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=45143022
Credits: This template was made by MONICA of OUAC. Don’t be stealin now, ya hear?

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

RISING UP, STRAIGHT TO THE TOP

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Had the guts, got the glory[/font]
[/center]

This was a goddamn ferris wheel. Seriously. It was a giant wooden wheel thing that moved little carts up and down with people in them. It didn’t even go fast. So why the hell was the line for this shit like, 40 million miles long? Soren felt like he’d been waiting for fucking twenty years when they finally reached the front.

Not that he minded all that much. Because this chick he was standing with was such a total catch, in every fucking sense of the phrase. Like, top five at Barrie, for sure. Seriously. The soccer bros were going to be so jealous.

“Why do you love soccer so much?”

Their eyes met and Soren held the contact steadily, wondering if Kerli would be the first to break it. He shrugged. ”It’s a good sport, man. Lots of contact. Running, kicking, you know, it’s all pretty…” And that was when shit just started fucking spewing out of his mouth, in a way he’d never known it could before. ”And I never really had a family, you know, never knew my Mom, Dad always working, brother always in jail or somewhere. But my town had a soccer league, so…” He shrugged. ”My dad signed me up one day. And that was my family. That’s who raised me.”

God damn, he never even told the soccer bros shit like that. So why was he telling this random chick he’d barely met like, a week ago? And why was it so much easier for him to tell her than it was for him to tell anyone else? This was weird. This was fucking weird.

But he didn’t mind it that much, either. His eyes fell awkwardly to the ground.

Fucking finally, they reached the front of the line, and climbed into one of the large Ferris wheel cars. Soren gazed out the window as they began their ascent. ”Also gets you some pretty nice chicks. Though they're usually crazy as fuck. I’m more into the rational type, myself.” He winked cheerily at her, slipping back into character. There, much better.

Whoya With? Kerlz
Wordz: 343
Notez: SORRY CRAPPY TEMPLATE I’M SO OUT OF IT
Whatcha Wearin?: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=45143022
Credits: This template was made by MONICA of OUAC. Don’t be stealin now, ya hear?

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

RISING UP, STRAIGHT TO THE TOP

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Had the guts, got the glory[/font]
[/center]

They were going up, up, way up, and holy shit, this ferris wheel was so high, up, up, up, up, holy fuck, was this thing even safe?, up, up, up, up, ferris wheel carts were definitely not supposed to swing like this, up, up, up, up, up. Now, Soren was not afraid of heights, because fuck you, Soren was a fucking man, and men were not afraid of goddamn heights.

But this still did not feel safe at all, from a purely logical standpoint, of course. The carriage was like, rocking back and forth like they were in a fucking baby cradle. And Soren had absolutely no data to back this assertion up, but he was pretty damn sure that if even the tiniest gust of wind like, nudged this carriage thing, he and Kerli Stewart would all go tumbling down to the ground and probably break their spines. And that would mean no more soccer for Soren Somersett. God, what on fucking earth had prompted him to get on this thing again?

“Oh. I—So soccer is really important to you.”

Ah, right. Kerli Stewart was.

”I mean, yeah.” Soren shrugged. ”I love it.”

As if that summed it up. Soren, you articulate shit. There was no way that a generalization like “I love it” could even begin to encompass the passion and attachment that Soren had for the game. There had never been a life without soccer, for Soren. There would never be a life without soccer. Soren knew that girls would come and go, friends would come and go, there’d be new places, new things, and new times, but soccer, a good old ball, a patch of grass, and his own feet, would never, never go away. He could play soccer on the beach, underwater, on a desert island, in prison, with bare feet with a tinfoil ball on pavement if he were forced to. It would always be there for him.

Man, this ferris wheel was bringin’ up some deep, deep shit, wasn’t it?

“I just like cheerleading because it’s fun.”

I bet it’s super fun, being with all those fine, fine ladies. The thought shot through his head like a streak of lightning. But what actually burst from his mouth was much different.

”You into any of the guys here?

Jesus fucking Christ, had he really just asked that question? Really? That was totally the dumbest fucking question a guy could ever ask a chick. Really, Soren? Really?

Whoya With? Kerlz
Wordz: 465
Notez: SORRY CRAPPY TEMPLATE I’M SO OUT OF IT
Whatcha Wearin?: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=45143022
Credits: This template was made by MONICA of OUAC. Don’t be stealin now, ya hear?

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

RISING UP, STRAIGHT TO THE TOP

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Had the guts, got the glory[/font]
[/center]

Soren had just about had it with this goddamn ferris wheel and its motherfucking shittiness. Seriously, he had paid, what, eight dollars to ride this piece of crap. So why the hell was their car stopped at the top like they were motherfucking Paul Revere waiting for “one if by land, two if by sea” lanterns out on the ocean or some shit? Soren could feel the uneasiness clenching into a ball in his stomach as the cart swayed back and forth in the wind. They had better get this ride fixed really soon. Really fucking soon.

And by the way, this whole—wait. What in fuck’s name was happening to Kerli? Her face looked as if all the color had been wrung out of it like a sponge, and nostrils were flaring like some fucking bull in a bullfight. ”Are…are you okay?” he asked hesitantly. Oh God, his question hadn’t like, freaked her out, had it? Oh shit, it probably had, hadn’t it? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

And now she was hyperventilating and jerking erratically and gripping the steering wheel as if the world were about to end. ”Whoa!” The syllable shot from his mouth before he could stop it. ”Whoa whoa whoa. Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa.” Shit, shit, what was he supposed to do? Was this an athsma attack? He didn’t know what you were supposed to do for an athsma attack. Or was this a seizure, like patients always had on medical dramas? Oh God, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, if this were a seizure she could hit her head, couldn’t she? And that would be bad. Soren felt the sweat breaking out on his forehead. Uh…help? he thought, feeling the panic rise in his chest. Come on, you piece of shit, he thought to the ferris wheel as hard as he could. Come on, start moving, start fucking moving.

But womanizer that he was, there was only one thing Soren could think to do. He slid over to the bench opposite him, and gently enfolded her in his arms. ”Hey,” he said in a low, soothing voice. ”Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright, I gotcha, I gotcha.” His fingers rolled gingerly through her hair, feeling its softness like satin beneath his grasp. ”It’s gonna be okay. Alright?”

Soren gave her a minute. ”So, you wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked carefully.

Whoya With? Kerlz
Wordz: 399
Notez: SORRY CRAPPY TEMPLATE I’M SO OUT OF IT
Whatcha Wearin?: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=45143022
Credits: This template was made by MONICA of OUAC. Don’t be stealin now, ya hear?

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

RISING UP, STRAIGHT TO THE TOP

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Had the guts, got the glory[/font]
[/center]

Holy fuck, this shit was getting serious. Like, way more serious that Soren had ever expected that it would. Like…the shit that was coming out of her mouth sounded like something that you’d hear on like, the Secret Life of the American Teenager, or one of those shows where the characters all had crazy overblown tragic pasts and other shit that pissed Soren off like no other because, well, it was so unrealistic. But this…holy fuck. This was real life.

Soren sat silently through her story, allowing her to talk when she needed to, and moving his fingers in soothing motions around her scalp. That always made girls cry less, he’d found. Fuck, he hated when girls were crying. Still, he tried his best.

Then he heard something about an ice storm. Oh God, he knew where this was going. He felt her tense up as her voice trailed off. "Shhhh," he whispered gently in her ear. "And what happened in the river?"

“Rikki died. And it’s all my fault. They brought me back; why couldn’t they bring her back too?”

It was a struggle not to inhale sharply with shock. Breathing deeply to steady himself, he spoke again in his lowest voice. "You can't blame yourself, Kerli," he said, using her name for the first time. It felt strange-ish on his tongue. "You didn’t choose it, you know. There was no huge judgment day where you like, told God to take her instead of you. You just got lucky. You know?”

Something else struck him, and he was suddenly flooded with memories: his mother, broken shards of beer bottles scattered across a beach, blood, sirens, bars, and he scrunched up his face to block out the images, but before he knew it he was talking again. ”Reliving it’s not going to bring her back,” he said, so quietly that he was almost mouthing it. ”You just gotta…pack it away. Somewhere back in that part of your brain you never, never visit. Something I know from…personal experience.”

Whoya With? Kerlz
Wordz: 387
Notez: SORRY CRAPPY TEMPLATE I’M SO OUT OF IT
Whatcha Wearin?: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=45143022
Credits: This template was made by MONICA of OUAC. Don’t be stealin now, ya hear?