Carl v. Ash Cannon Prep

“It’s Britney bitch!”

Ahh, another morning of I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here! Carl thinks to himself as he slams the off button on his alarm—

Only Britney Spears’ masterpiece, Gimme More, didn’t stop playing. Through his morning fog, Carl realizes—fuck that’s Dave’s alarm!

“Dave!” he hisses into the darkness, hoping his roommate would hear his pleas.

No answer. Goddamnit. This is the last time I’m letting a client sleep in my dorm house.

Dorm house.

The concept of it alone was ridiculous; but then again, so was being a teen lawyer representing other teens at a boarding school for the super-rich and famous. A dorm house at Ash Cannon Prep was basically having an entire house to yourself instead of the one room most boarding school kids get. And must share.

Carl Cosgrove’s dorm house was typically empty. But seeing as he had an important court date today and needed his client to actually show up, this was the only method he could think of in terms of making sure Dave didn’t get too wasted and end up in Iowa again. He didn’t want to use the school’s private jet again if he could help it. What was in Iowa? Carl had no fucking clue but one thing was certain: Dave Owens is a fucking mess.

And for some reason, this kid lawyer loves it. It gave him something to do, a purpose to wake up to.

Back home, Carl was bored out of his mind. The small town of Leaf Springs was picturesque sure, but the only fun thing to do there was—actually, there wasn’t anything fun to do in Leaf Springs. But here in Ash Cannon?

Fun wasn’t accurate enough of a word to describe the exhilarating feeling he felt every day. It was a good time no matter where you were in town or in the school.

For starters, there was Slurps, everybody’s favorite dessert diner—

SHIT. I was supposed to meet Orville and Thomas at Slurps today before the hearing!

Carl practically catapults out of his bed, making a sprint downstairs towards the front door when—-

BLAM!

A duet of groans and then—

“Thomas?! How did you—" Carl exclaims.

The lead singer of Drugs and Tears, the school’s and America’s favorite boy band of all time, looks at Carl, smirking and pointing towards the door—

“It was unlocked! You have a terrible habit of leaving your stuff unlocked, you know?”

Carl rolls his eyes. He didn’t have time for the joking but is also too tired to be short with Thomas. Not that Carl wanted to be irritated—being a jerk to someone like Thomas wasn’t even possible—but the whole case thing was now getting on his case.

But if anyone could ease his anxieties, it was Thomas. Where to begin with Thomas James? He was the best wing man a guy could ever ask for. With him by Carl’s side, navigating the absurdity and quirkiness of ACP was a breeze. He knew everything and everyone. He even figured Carl out on the first day. Which was scary considering how reserved and calculated the kid lawyer himself could be, especially around others.

Thomas smiles at him. Had Carl done something dumb? No probably not and even if he had, Thomas wouldn’t judge anyways.

“I don’t know—I’ve been all over the place. This whole Rock Camp situation-“ he begins to explain before Thomas puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Hey man, you’re gonna be okay! You’re the fricking kid lawyer! And besides, it’s not like anyone blames you for Dave hooking up with Remi Movato’s boyfriend. Rock Camp, as we know it, is a dead franchise. This case definitely doesn’t help things either.”

“He did what now? Also, I didn’t know Kevin plays for the other team too, good for him! But not great for Remi, I guess,” Carl says, not shocked in the slightest. Dave never missed an opportunity to fuck shit up, especially when it came to other people’s relationships.

“Yeah, and since Remi’s name is like half of the case title, I reckon she’s going to use this as evidence to take down Dave’s reputation. Not that he has one, but he could definitely use our PR team at this point. He’s gonna lose his role in the movie! Meanwhile, the boys and I haven’t had a public scandal in a good while—wanna start one?”

Thomas cheekily leans towards Carl with a kissy face to which Carl laughs and pushes Thomas away.

“No, you idiot, that’s for later, after I win this fucking case!”

“Right, first we must save America’s worst movie franchise!” Thomas says in a sarcastic voice.

“I just don’t think I can save these movies from being an absolute shit show. But since Rock Camp means everything to you guys, I’m willing to at least try to save it. You guys need jobs, and I need a fricking vacation when this is over.”

Thomas looks appreciatively at his friend.

“Thanks man. It really means a lot to us.”

“It’s the least I can do. And I’m not just doing all this because you and Orville are keeping my secret. Cause once I get caught,”

Thomas sighs. They’ve been through this before.

“Not gonna happen. Just don’t let Remi or her girls get too close and we’ll be fine! Also make sure that you win the case. Otherwise, your secret won’t be secret anymore.”

“Okay. Understood.”

Thomas looks awkwardly around the room while trying to find something else to say. There was so much he wanted to ask but didn’t feel it was the right time to do so.

The secret.

Carl wasn’t scared of much, but if his secret got out, it would mean the end of all this.

And if this all ended right this second? Carl wasn’t sure how he would feel about that. It would feel as if something was taken from him, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Freedom? Happiness? Both maybe?

“Hey, you okay, space cadet?” Thomas chuckles, running his hand through his chestnut brown hair.

“What? Oh, yeah! I’m fine,” Carl nervously laughs, snapping back into reality.

Not now, dude. Focus! Carl thinks to himself, trying hard not to look at Thomas for fear of his anxiety showing.

HONKKKKKKK!

“Shit, that’s Orville! Dude, we better hustle! Get Dave and let’s go!” Thomas exclaims as he grabs his baby blue Drugs and Tears sweater from the couch and jets out the front door.

Carl is frozen to his spot though, looking out the window and watching Thomas get into the passenger side of Orville’s white Volvo hatchback. Carl and the rest of the gang endearingly referred to it as the Twilight car, mainly because it was Edward Cullen’s car in the first Twilight movie.

Add that as another thing to the list of things and people he may never see again should he lose the case.

I can’t afford to lose this case. If I lose—

All of this disappears.

It was a daunting thought, but a thought that the poor boy unfortunately couldn’t let go of.

He would have to do so temporarily, as his emo moment was interrupted by a fierce flurry of frantic limbs knocking him straight to the ground.

“DAVE, WHAT THE ACTUAL FU—"

“DAD, YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BEL—"

“DON’T CALL ME DAD.”

“Okay—FATHER! YOU’RE NOT GONNA BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED.”

“Jesus—okay, what?” Carl groans halfheartedly, waiting with bated breath to hear about Dave’s latest antics. He may be a hot mess, but he was an entertaining one and it gave him life just listening to the socialite’s misadventures, which almost always included fucking someone’s life up. Not that Carl condoned fucking peoples’ lives up, but Dave was the ultimate expert on how to do it without getting murdered.

“Okay, so check it—I was sitting on Rihanna’s bed texting Ryan Reynolds about how his comment about me looking like a baby prostitute was right, but also not necessary—"

At this point, if you walked in, you would think that a steamy moment was about to take place between Carl and Dave, with Dave on top of Carl and being two inches away from his face. But no, this was just their dynamic. Reluctantly supportive dad and his overly attached, out-of-control child.

HONKKKKK! HONK! HONK! HONNKKKK!!! HOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKK!

SHIT. Orville’s pissed.

“DAVE GET OFF ME NOW, WE NEED TO PAY FOR YOUR HOE SINS!” Carl shouts, pushing the drama king off him and heading towards the door but not before grabbing his briefcase and employee badge.

“Okay, let me grab my coat!” Dave giggles, grabbing an enormous faux fur coat off the coat rack next to the door.

From an outsider’s perspective, it was a sight to see—an over-the-top diva client walking alongside his more serious lawyer who looked like he was two seconds away from a psychotic meltdown.

“Did you destroy the evidence of you breaking into Rihanna’s house?” Carl asks tiredly, as if this was the same as asking if Dave remembered to take out the trash.

“Yes, dad. Wait—how did you know?”

“You don’t need to know that. Okay, so anyways, like we rehearsed,” Carl starts off slowly, as to jog Dave’s memory. Dave groans and recites the line/positive mantra he and Carl worked on the night prior:

“No, your honor, I did not have sexual relations with that Ronas brother!”

“Dave, that’s not what we rehearsed.”

“Okay—FINE. No, your honor, I have never met or engaged with Kevin Ronas romantically in my life. He’s a complete stranger to me.”

“Perfect, now get your ass in the car, we’re gonna be late.”

The two go inside the Twilight car and are greeted with a very impatient, very upset Orville. To be fair, Orville Johnson only had two emotions: upset or even more upset. Such is the life of a Hollywood agent dealing with the ACP crowd Carl supposed.

“Guys, I got bad news. We need to pick up Zac,” Orville relays.

“NOOOOOOOOO!” the whole car of boys erupts with obvious disapproval.

Zac Afron (not to be confused with Zac Efron) was a 14-year-old boy with the problems of a 45-year-old man going through a mid-life crisis. Carl and the crew felt for him, they really did, but Zac needed a therapist.

The ironic thing here? He’s the school’s therapist. He’s considered top tier as well, if that gives you any idea of how bad everyone’s coping skills are. I’ll give you a hint: they’re hella non-existent.

“Dude, you guys need to be nice. I just got off the phone with him. He’s having—he’s going through a lot, okay?” Orville pleads and the boys could tell by his genuine tone that he was being serious.

“Okay, but if he starts talking about becoming a furry one more time-“ Carl says worriedly.

“He won’t! That was 3 months ago. He’s also gone to therapy to un-furry himself,” Orville reassures everyone.

“Oh, thank god,” Carl replies, letting out a sigh of relief.

All his past interactions with Zac had been low key traumatic. But he was glad to hear that Zac was on the up and up. Or at least he was in therapy. Which was at least better than Dave, who always refers to therapy as a way for “those hoes to get the tea for free.”

The car finally comes to a stop in front of Slurps. It was extremely busy that day as everyone was watching the Owens v. Movato case live on the many TVs inside the diner.

Then there was the paparazzi.

“Ah, shit,” Thomas heavily sighs and Carl silently shares the same sentiment because the paparazzi was both of their nightmares, but for different reasons.

For Thomas, the paparazzi was always out to catch him for some social crime he didn’t commit. Being in the world’s favorite boy band of all time had its cons after all.

But for Carl, even though he wasn’t very well known outside of the Ash Cannon community, that could change in an instant. In fact, considering his situation and the secret, he shouldn’t be hanging out with any famous people period.

“Hey, we need a way to get to the back entrance so that they don’t see Carl. Thomas, would you mind—" Orville breaks the silence, sounding a bit regretful of his decision to pick up Zac.

“I got it,” Thomas sighs again and practically jumps out of the car, steering the paparazzi away from Orville’s car as they crowd around him.

Carl felt awful. It was like watching his friend get thrown into a vicious pack of wolves and getting eaten.

Sensing Carl’s unnecessary guilt, Dave squeezes his hand.

“He’ll be alright. He’s used to it.”

“He shouldn’t have to be though. And just because someone’s used to something, that doesn’t make it right or okay,” Carl says sadly. In that moment, he became an innocent child, one who had just been told that war and violence are real but Santa Claus isn’t.

At this point, the car went silent. There was an unspoken understanding that this is the way things shouldn’t be, but it was the way things were. And there’s nothing they could do about it.

A few agonizing seconds pass, then—

“Hey, Carl... I know you’re not the real Carl—well, I mean you’re real to me—but anyways, I really hope you stay,” Orville says, with a sad emphasis on the stay part.

The real Carl. Well, that’s it. Cat’s out of the bag.

That’s my secret. I’m not the real Carl Cosgrove.

My name is Carl Winston James.

And I’m not the kid lawyer.