till I die [open]

[NICHOLAS ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY]

Monty felt trapped in this world. He never did well in the big open, all his hatred and memories coming back to him. It reminded him of a happier time when he was in Wales. When his mother was around and he had a stable life, with little or no disruptions. Where his life was good and he was taught morals and what was good and what was evil. Yup, that was right before he watched his mother's casket was lowered into a grave and covered. A few years later and he was running the streets of Chicago with a gang, fitting in almost perfectly. His time had sadly run out and now he was sent to this piece of crap dead site in the middle of a state that no one cared about.

The male ran to relieve his tension, already having done about five miles and not tiring just yet. It was his way of carrying out the plans in his head. Once he went back to Chicago 'reformed' , he was going to take off, find somewhere else to cause chaos. No way was he going to stay with his father. No way in hell. Which was where he currently was. His feet created a steady thud on the gravel, his eyes as cold as ice and shoulders holding all the built up tension in him.

No smoking. No drinking. This place was like a prison, except the inmates weren't there to rape you and the food was better. Little comfort. He wanted the city. He wanted the thrill. Heck, he was ready to pay to get laid right now. Not that he usually did that. Girls flocked to him, and if they didn't, well, the thrill of the chase was always there. With his earphones in and music pumping his eardrums, he couldn't care less about what was happening around him. He hated this. Hated being watched. Hated it.

His posture became almost predatory as he ran. It took him back a few months ago to the only time he felt any sort of pain.

"Monty! Hey! There's a lot of blood. Mate! Don't you dare you selfish bastard!" And as the only guy he considered a friend shouted at him, he blanked out. Decided that death was the most wonderful thing.

Monty rolled his shoulder as he remembered. That was what had brought him here. A gunshot wound and a gang member with a conscience. Prison would have been better for him.

[CELESTE CHARLENE ST. JAMES]

They weren't supposed to be out alone. Someone was supposed to be watching them all the time. But the weather ws muggy and unpleasant and Celeste didn't feel like being around horses and sweat and heat if she could help it, and the barns stank when it got too hot outside. Not that she minded the smell of horse shit and hay, but she wasn't excited about the possibility of being trapped inside the humid barn with the smells and the heat and the heaviness in the air. No sirree bob. It made her shudder just to think of it.

She missed her cell phone, the ability to call home and talk to Austin whenever she wanted, the urge to e-mail Noelle or to call Blake was weighing on her. Just to see how they were doing. Talk to Evan, rag on Kyle because they all did it. She missed her family. Mommy especially, though Mommy never gave her the time of day when she was around, so why should she care what she was doing right now?

There weren't any staff or faculty hanging around as she set out across the grounds with her iPod, one of the few pieces of technology she was allowed to have, provided that she didn't take it into the barn with her. Sighing, she switched through the songs, finding something that she liked by Luke Bryan, and then shoved the device back in her pocket.

Eyes half closed, Celeste didn't see Monty coming until she had almost run into him. It was easier for her, at her casual pace, to slow down; with his speed, it would have been more difficult. At the last minute she dodged out of the way and brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face, staring at him, accusation on her lips until she forced it away and reminded herself that bitterness was Blake's show and not her own.

He looked lost in his thoughts, and for a moment Celeste had to wonder whether or not everybody here had their own inner demons. Were hers not as serious as some of the others? Probably. She nibbled on her lower lip and then pulled one of her earbuds out, eyes narrowing as she watched the boy she was sure she'd seen but didn't know. "It's real hot to be runnin' like that," she told him, a bit suspiciously.

[NICHOLAS ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY]

Monty couldn't help but remember every event that had brought him this far. Even though he hated it, he had to admit that he was more like his father than he would know. He had the same cold and calculating stare except Monty hated that man. Monty just took it alot further. He enjoyed what he did. He liked the fear that he could envoke. He loved seeing people squirm when he saw them. It was what he thrived on and no place like this was going to change him. It was a place where he was either going to go absolutely nuts or where he was just going to spew things out to keep the faculty happy, get sent back to Chicago and then disappear so that he can find somewhere else to continue his chaos.

As he lapped the grounds again, he hardly noticed the girl who walked in front of him and he snarled. A low, almost in-human sound that escaped him. His usually spiked hair was plastered to his head, sweat dripping off him. He didn't like to make contact with anyone, and as he looked at the student, his ice cold stare was busy sizing her up. With Monty, he did that often, only when it came to females, it was for something more. He was charged with sex, not caring who or how it happened. Does it look like I care? he said with a smirk.

His muscles protested at the sudden stop and Monty savoured the pain. It was something he could always have. The constant, self inflicted pain. His cold, blue eyes flashed in delight as he saw the suspicion in her eyes. Oh, this was just brilliant, because his first proper interaction with a fellow student was most likely to end up with an argument. He needed this. This shit hole was somewhere he had to escape and he had been busy planning it since he had arrived.

"You're such an arse Monty!"
"And don't you love me for it."

No, he wasn't going to think about that right now. The familiar pound in his head, picked up pace. He hated the withdrawl symptoms that came from going cold turkey on the smoking. The night sweats and shivers was something he could get used to. The nightmares he could not. He was hardly sleeping. He needed that if he was going to get out at least some what sane. His father would not end up controlling hom. That was something that Monty refused.

[CELESTE CHARLENE ST. JAMES]

Surprised, Celeste cocked an eyebrow at the young man she'd spoken to, a bit taken aback that he simply went on with what he'd been doing. It wasn't a typical reaction to her, but then, she was usually flanked by two identical blondes, and that seemed to have something to do with it. It was guaranteed at home that all of the boys would notice her and none of the girls. Since she was (mostly) interested in girls, it irked her that she was the one who the boys always noticed. Well, maybe not just her, but Blake had struggled in that department and Noelle was so flippant with everybody that nobody wanted to stick around for very long.

One thing that Celeste was beginning to notice among the students at Brook Haven Ranch was that most of them had lived relatively cushy lives. She'd come here expecting to be unusual, with her politician mother and her lawyer daddy. Just another spoiled rich kid for the others to look down on. But it hadn't turned out that way, which was something she was grateful for.

The boy looked exhausted in that strung out way that she knew came from coming off the drugs. She didn't get high as much as her sisters did, and it had been a long time since she'd really soared, but she could see in the dark circles under the boy's eyes that he hadn't been sleeping well. And sometimes people ran to hurt themselves. She knew that too.

Putting her hands on her hips, she watched. There wasn't much for her to say in response to the running, so she stood back and let him exhaust himself as much as she needed to. Part of her wanted to sneak out of this place and see if she could meet up with her sisters, find them something they could do. But her sisters were in Oregon with Mommy and her brothers were... In Connecticut? Something like that.

Shaking her head, Celeste raised her hand and flagged Monty as best she could, though she had no idea if he'd pay attention even if he did notice that she was trying to get it.

[/quote]

[NICHOLAS ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY]

Monty hadn't done drugs back in Chicago. No. He had dealt them. Made some extra money on the side and the pocketed it until he had to pay his supplier. The closest thing to drugs that he had used was Red Smoke, that caffeine taste delicious as he had used it. That had been once. Never again. He smoked more than anything. Menthol's. Sometimes Cigars, but he never found a taste in the things. His lungs started burning, his body protesting to stop. And stop he did.

"You have to get yourself sorted out son," had been the judges words that had sent him here. As Monty slowed to walk, glancing around. He saw that same girl flagging him down and he all but snarled in response. What the fuck do you want with me?! he growled at her, obviously showing his unhappiness.

If you're looking for a good lay, then I am always willing to service, he said, his expression growing predatory. His eyes flashed and his sculptured abdomen showed through his shirt, sweat causing it to stick to his body. She was starting to play with fire this one in front in him. He took her in, every nuance of her body and every fault coming to his eyes. She would make a great toy.

[CELESTE CHARLENE ST. JAMES]

"Sorry," Celeste said with a small, put out cough. "You're not my type." Which was her way of telling him that he was the wrong gender to be of interest to her. He was handsome of course, and reminded her of someone that she couldn't quite place. But she cleared her throat and shook her head. "You're coming off something," she said, not bothering to keep her voice down since so many of them were coming off of something. For her it was cocaine and cigarettes, and she'd heard wind of a kid who had been a heroin user before he got brought here. Whatever Monty's drug of choice had been (even if it was caffeine, which was seriously restricted!), there was something. And she could almost understand how sex could be a drug. She'd had enough of that in her life too.

She hadn't wanted anything with him in the beginning, but the way that he was talking had Celeste's back straightening a little bit, and she could almost feel the presence of her sisters, the powerful feeling that came from being three against the entire world when the entire world seemed to be against them. She could almost feel Noelle taking her hand, and she closed her own hand into a precautionary fist as she did so.

"It seems an awful lot like you're the one who wants something," she drawled, then raised a shoulder. "You look awful."

[NICHOLAS ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY]

Monty had never really gone cold turkey before. He had taken a break from smoking, gradually wenaed himself off it, but had never done anything to this extent. He felt like he was being plowed through a field by an elephant, his body battered on the inside. That was probably the worst feeling. He had no control over how his own body reacted to being taken off something he had smoked for years. He wouldn't be starting again any time soon. The last places he had been, he could always bum a smoke off a guard, but not here.

A smoke. I need an effing smoke, he told her, obvious frustration coming through. He could go without the sex and the alcohol, but he needed to have a smole. Where he could find one was a completely different story because he wasn't allowed off the property. Not unless he was dead or on his way to becoming so. Bugger this. He would rather be an inmate than live at this shit hole for the next however many years.

He even had a horse, something that he didn't want to have. Horses reminded him of his mother. A woman he cared for and respected a lot. Not many people could say that they knew that about him.