It was Elliot Phippen. Stay cool, JD, stay cool. This was good.
See, JD knew that he and Elliot got along. He was a huge nerd, but cute and full of personality. Everyone had their flaws - JD’s was being too perfect. The person who approached the booth could have been Dakota, who JD absolutely did not want to see right now. She was the woooooooo~rrrrrsssstttt, and he had no interest in entertaining her further. He couldn’t imagine wasting more time on a school failure, anyway. How could someone even fail at Rocky Mountain International? Just have someone do the work for you.
Right, no one liked Dakota because she sucked, so of course she couldn’t have gotten someone to do the work for her. Aw, now he pitied her again. This was a terrible, confusing cycle that he needed to stop going round and round on. Back to Elliot.
The other boy didn’t need to know how unhinged the popstar felt. He hadn’t even gotten a manicure by one of the Asian ladies on Pearl Street recently. His cuticles were held to their healthy standard by charms and hope at the moment. He certainly wasn’t going to start biting them again - that was a nervous childhood habit he’d outgrown the first time someone suggested he be a hand model for toy wands and limited edition Merlin action figures. How could anyone look at him with the awe he expected, demanded, if they knew his mind (and his cuticles) was such a mess?
“How dare you? The money’s for charity,” JD neglected to elaborate that the current name for his ego was Charity and she was in desperate need of some support, honey, “I’m a good person. Just ask…” He trailed off. What was the last magazine to publish anything about him? He couldn’t remember. Oh, no. Masking his panic with a smile and mirroring the way Elliot leaned against his booth, JD tilted his head just a little. “Well, just trust me. I’m a good person, and Charity is very important to me. Do you like to help people, Elliot?”