Bakura Ryou [獏良了] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shiromadoushi) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2013-09-13 03:21 pm
shiromadoushi) wrote in savetheearth2013-09-13 03:21 pm
Entry tags:
Fangirls ruin everything
Who: Bakura & Marisa [+ Rubberneckers]
Where: Locke High's cafeteria
When: Friday, lunch time
What: Bakura's fan club is being more annoying than normal, so he hatches a plan with Marisa to get them to bugger off. Mainly, getting them to think he's already got a girlfriend. How could this possibly go wrong?
Bakura had hoped that this year, the fangirl problem wouldn't be as bad... and for the first few days, he had managed fine. Get to lunch late when he couldn't just spend it in Mr. Lyall's room, find the smallest table in the most hidden corner he could, eat fast, book it out of there before he could be spotted.
But the unfortunately familiar screech of his first name heralded the end of his fangirl free week.
"Oh goddamnit.." he sighed as the gaggle of girls descended like crows at his table. Even though there was only room for three, all five of them attempted to crowd around, pulling chairs from nearby tables without even asking and setting their trays down like tetris tiles before starting to gab on about their summers, trying to ask him questions about his own.
There was a new one this year, he noted sourly. Freshman most likely. Shyer and seemingly overwhelmed. And quieter. That was at least good...
He reached out and smacked away a hand that was attempting to touch his hair, giving a death glare at the offending girl, which only resulted in a beaming smile.
"--and I love the purple, it's just so you, where did you have it done?"
He ignored the question, starting to pack up his lunch to shove back into his bag.
Goddamn fangirls...
Where: Locke High's cafeteria
When: Friday, lunch time
What: Bakura's fan club is being more annoying than normal, so he hatches a plan with Marisa to get them to bugger off. Mainly, getting them to think he's already got a girlfriend. How could this possibly go wrong?
Bakura had hoped that this year, the fangirl problem wouldn't be as bad... and for the first few days, he had managed fine. Get to lunch late when he couldn't just spend it in Mr. Lyall's room, find the smallest table in the most hidden corner he could, eat fast, book it out of there before he could be spotted.
But the unfortunately familiar screech of his first name heralded the end of his fangirl free week.
"Oh goddamnit.." he sighed as the gaggle of girls descended like crows at his table. Even though there was only room for three, all five of them attempted to crowd around, pulling chairs from nearby tables without even asking and setting their trays down like tetris tiles before starting to gab on about their summers, trying to ask him questions about his own.
There was a new one this year, he noted sourly. Freshman most likely. Shyer and seemingly overwhelmed. And quieter. That was at least good...
He reached out and smacked away a hand that was attempting to touch his hair, giving a death glare at the offending girl, which only resulted in a beaming smile.
"--and I love the purple, it's just so you, where did you have it done?"
He ignored the question, starting to pack up his lunch to shove back into his bag.
Goddamn fangirls...
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By now it had gotten so quiet it had reached a state of negative noise that was almost louder than silence. It was enough that even Marisa was starting to notice something was up. Or maybe she was tipped off by the icicles forming on her fork of hamburger helper. She looked up at the tall girl looming over her to one side. "...What's up?"
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"Ryou, who is this girl?" demanded the most vocal of the group-- the one who had made to touch his hair.
"None of your goddamned business is who," he returned with a glare before sighing and resuming packing up his lunch. "C'mon, Marisa, let's get the hell away from these loons..." he half muttered, shoving the last of his lunch into his bag and starting to get to his feet.
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She swallowed her bite and stood back up, looking a little confused. "If you say so. This suddenly feels like a bad neighborhood anyways."
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"It is too our business!" the bossy fan pushed, affecting a hurt tone. "Look here, blondy, I know they don't teach manners in Texas where you're from, but in the civilized north, one doesn't just barge in on a reunion of close friends!"
"Oh for the love of..." Bakura groaned, covering his face with his hand, the other going white knuckled around his bag as he reminded himself that he couldn't hit the idiot girls. Last thing he wanted was to get suspended for fighting in the first few weeks of school goddamnit....
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"It's a free country, ain't it? Seriously, what bug crawled up your ass? I just wanted to tell him something and eat my lunch."
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Bakura, for his part, was debating pulling out his phone and texting Mr. Lyall to have him called to the office... The tiny table in the corner was the worst for escaping from...
He put a hand on Marisa's shoulder. "Let's just get out of here..."
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Once they got a modicum of distance she glanced back over her shoulder to see if they were following as she asked "What the heck was THEIR problem?"
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"Fuck if I know, those damned girls have been stalking me since I was a freshman," Bakura sighed deeply, shaking his head. "Keep asking me out on dates, trying to drag me to prom, every time I tell them to drop dead or fuck off they just seem to swoon and try harder to get in my pants. It's creepy...."
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"You DO kind of look like a tragically misunderstood bad guy from a TV show."
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She pondered this for a second, "Probably not."
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He paused, looking at the doorway to the cafeteria. "Shit. I think they're following. RUN!"
Without thinking, he grabbed for her hand and started dashing down the hall.
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She stumbled, trying to balance a tray and not get yanked off her feet, but caught up. "You can't just spend your whole school year running from a bunch of social rejects!"
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"Bakura, we have faced down far weirder shit than a bunch of screechy stalkers. This is pathetic."
It sounded like a dramatic declaration, but mainly she was just hungry and thus irritable.
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He let out a long exhale, running a hand through his bangs before leaning back against the wall so that his head connected with a dull thud, his eyes closing.
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And off they went, lost in the crowd.