That awkward mo' when...{Jack&Layla}

[LAYLA WILKERSON]

Layla hadn't been in Vegas for more than two weeks, and today, the girl was finally finishing up her unpacking. She had spent most of the day just moseying around the apartment, tossing a few things from boxes here and there, scanning the few spaces she had that would fit things in each. She ended up in the bedroom last, setting her bed up, putting clothes in her small three drawer dresser, and installing a few lamps at different sockets around the room. The room didn't have much in it. Not even a tv happened to be in the building, for the stubborn brunette didn't want any of her parents support in buying anything for her move, and she was dirt broke by the end of buying her necessities. It didn't bother her, anyway. She wasn't much into the shows, for they exploited women in many ways, and it seemed that a few just reminded her of her haunting past with Quinton, a name she had grown to try and forget.

Setting the last of the pictures and their frames on her sidetable, the girl took a quick glance at the clock hanging alone on a wall, which read 1:00AM, causing the exhausted twenty year old to sigh heavily. Falling onto her bed, she manage to wiggle herself under the large comforter and rested her head on her pillow before reaching over to turn off the lamp beside her bed. She had an early stocking day at the library in the morning, and according to her clock, she only had about five hours left of sleeping time. Eyes shutting almost instantly, her body began to grow limp, and she could feel sleep taking over. About a minute or so later, however, a distant banging brought a startle to Layla, and she was quickly awakened. Listening closer, she tried to make out what exactly the banging sound was. More sounds continued, and a few moans made their way to her ears, causing Layla's face to turn a sort of shade of red. Not out of embarrassment, but of anger. 

Huffing loudly, the ducky-pajama clad Layla pushed the covers from her body and stood up in a swift manner from her bed, making her way to the door to exit the apartment. Don't these people know that others are trying to sleep instead of trying to get impregnated? Rolling her eyes, as she turned the doorknob and stepped outside, the noises became significantly louder. "She's so faking it." she mumbled, as she followed the moans to the apartment across the hall from hers. Loudly, she heard someone screaming a boy's name. Black? Who names their child Black?.... The name was yelled again, and a lightbulb went off for Layla. Jack! Jack! "You have got to be kidding me..." She continued to mumble, before stepping in front of the door and knocking loud enough to be heard over the lovemaking. "Excuse me! People are trying to sleep! Do you THINK you could tone it down a little?" she yelled, her eye looking through the peek hole to see if anyone was coming.


Notes: HDJDHDHDHDJFNHAHAHAHAHA.

[JACK PARKER]

"Oh man, I love Vegas." Jack was grinning broadly, looking over to the busty, dark-haired girl as he was pulling up to his apartment building. She only smirked quietly back at him, hopping out of the car before he was even done parking. "We're eager, aren't we?" He chuckled, admittedly eager himself.

It had been a long fucking day, working at the ritzy over-priced Bellagio at only a dollar or two over minimum wage. If the hotel was so fucking fancy, why couldn't they pay a bellhop good money? People were also very demanding on Easter for some reason. "The Lord was never this fucking needy." He'd muttered at one point between customers. After work, he'd come back to see what these people at Winchester were about. Turns out. Gay. Lame. Bitches. At least he had the football team. Who gave a shit about a bunch of homos? He sure didn't.

Somewhere down the road he'd ended up at a bar, and meeting this fine piece of ass he was now helping up to his dorm, hands already under her shirt and mouth already pressed against hers as he walked her backwards down the hallway towards his apartment. He had to stop a moment to fumble for the doorknob and then closed the door behind them, picking her up with his hands under her thighs so he could carry her to the bed.

She kept moaning out his name, which was awkward because he couldn't remember hers. He'd been pretty sure it was Ashley, but he didn't want to call that out because a good 25% of him told him it was Amber. He figured he'd just keep his lips moving down her neck and he wouldn't have to say- or moan- anything.

He'd barely gotten his boxers off before a loud knock came from the front door.

"What the fuck.." He hissed, sitting up slightly, brows knitting together when he heard a very female voice come from the other side of the door. "God dammit. Uhm, hold on, I'll be right back." He sighed to Amber/Ashley and got up off the bed, pulling his boxers back on irritably. Storming up to the door, he pulled it open with some force, glaring back at the girl who stood before him in duck pajamas.

Was that-? No, it couldn't be-. Yes, it fucking was. That Layla chick from earlier. He clenched his jaw tightly, eyes narrowing,

"What the fuck is your problem!?" He grunted at the girl, gripping the door still, ready to slam it in her face at any moment.

[LAYLA WILKERSON]

Left eye still peeking through the small hole, more noises could be heard, but they did not sound like either of them were having a good time in that moment. The girl all but stopped, it seemed, and Layla could faintly hear the sound of grumbling and stomping coming from the back, obviously an angry gentleman who was just about to ease his hormones. Still focused, the brunette saw a shadow, and soon a nearly naked man walking towards the door, though she couldn't really see his face. Stepping back to allow him to open the door and not catch her peeking into his home, she crossed her arms across her chest and knitted her eyebrows together, lips pursed as if pouting for the disturbance

Watching as the doorknob rattled, she began to feel a little nervous, something she had had trouble with since being with Quinton. It wasn't like Layla to waltz right up to a stranger's door and complain, especially not in a place such as this one, where you never knew what might be lurking inside each of the apartments. The built of the boy was young looking, not too built, but it was obvious he took care of himself, and his batman boxers told Layla that he was probably as harmless as a fly, and wouldn't do anything about her complaints except possibly yell at her for disturbing his own privacy.  That rang true, for when the door flew open, the strangely familiar male did not bother to keep his voice down. 

Studying his face more carefully, and casually drifting towards his abs, silently admiring them, but not exactly wanting him to know she was, she finally remembered how she knew him. Mouth gaping open, she rolled her eyes once before pulling her jaw up again, biting her bottom lip. This was the guy who she got into a spat with on the school chat room. After analyzing the situation again, she figured it was understandable to find him making so much racket. What a dumbass 

After composing herself, Layla opened her mouth to speak. "You? Are you fuck-really? You? Of all people to be neighbors with, I have a pompous, closed-minded, rude, asshole, Sex-addict, apparently, for one? This is just my luck." she went on, not bothering to lower her voice. "Anyway, I'm coming here to ask you to PLEASE put a muzzle on your girlfriend back there. It's one am, Jack, is it? And, some people need sleep. By the way, you might want to lose the comic strip undies...if I was having sex, I would make sure I didn't look like a twelve year old boy." she said, glancing down once before giving the male in front of her a smug smile.

[JACK PARKER]

Watching her eyes travel from his face for a second, he cocked his head, a brow lifting slightly. Who'd she think she was fooling? Allowing a smirk onto his face for a brief moment before his mouth formed a thin, aggravated line again, he scoffed at her string of insults, both brows now raised in disbelief. This chick just knew how to ruin someone's night.

"Yeah, you, exactly my thoughts." He spat back, hand off the door now as he folded his arms over his chest and he scowled back at her. "No one else around seems to mind." He pointed out, gesturing to the three doors near him, all closed and with neighbors who actually minded their own fucking business.

"Get some ear-plugs, put a pillow over your head, I don't give a fuck. Just don't come knocking on my door because you can't stand to hear someone else having a good night." Shifting slightly on his feet, almost self-consciously as she mentioned the boxers, which he'd forgotten had the batman logo all over, he huffed slightly embarrassed.

"You're sure one to talk. Fan of ducks are we?" He commented, snickering a bit now because he was amused. "Oh, and next time you come to complain about the noise, don't check out the person you're complaining to, hmm?" He smirked now, smug as could be.

[LAYLA WILKERSON]

Nose scrunching up as she watched Jack cock his eyebrow at, she almost began questioning what that look was for. Of course, she was partially aware of what it was for, for she had never been good at being subtle with looking at a boy. Quinton had always called her out on it, obviously. It was one of the reasons he beat her just a year ago.

Deciding to let it go for a minute, Layla rolled her eyes as he mentioned the other neighbors, as if he knew they were in their rooms asleep. This was Vegas, of course they didn’t mind. They were probably sitting behind their doors silently cheering the one night only couple on. Layla wasn’t used to the disturbance. If you recall, she is from a state that people rarely hear from, and reason being? They’re quiet. “I’d rather not spend valuable money on a pair of ear plugs, thanks. That would show you beating me. Maybe you should, I don’t know, buy a room at a hotel when you want to give some girl the time…” she said, pausing to take a look around the dank apartment hall before going on. “It would make you look less of a douche.” she said, smirking up at him.

Her smile faded though, for she was reminded of her pajama choice as well, causing her to look down at the yellow ducks on the light blue fabric she donned. Cheeks flushing just a little, she crossed her arms across her chest objectively, replying sharply, “They’re COMFORTABLE and there’s no heat circulation in my apartment. Excuse me for not wanting to catch Pneumonia. If I had a special guest over, I can assure you that I would be dressed much more…Nevermind.” she stopped herself, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of thinking about her in intimates.

“And I was soooo not checking you out! Your head’s just too big to realize that some girls don’t like you.” she finished, shrugging, expression filled with disgust, as if the thought of him repulsed her.

[JACK PARKER]

Disappointed by the fact he obviously hadn't gotten rid of her, his frown deepened and he leaned slightly against the door frame, giving a look of pure boredom to the girl. "And I'd rather not waste money on a hotel room when I have a perfectly good apartment to bring a girl back to." He shot back, knowing the real reason was partially the cost of hotels around Vegas. "You know, not interrupting your neighbors when they're in the middle of entertaining guests might make you look less of a bitch." He countered again.

He broke out into a smirk again, however, watching her look in her own embarrassment down to the dorky pajamas. "Mhm, right, Pneumonia's probably some common thing to get in Nevada." He replied snarkily. Tilting his head some when she began to say something about what she'd wear if she had someone sleeping over he snickered, "I'm afraid I won't believe that without proof." It was a bad habit of Jack's, to flirt even in situations where it wasn't at all appropriate- like when he had another lady over.

"Oh, you were, babe. Hey, if you want, you can be next." He purred out, turning when he heard a huff from behind him.

"Who the hell is this!?" The girl growled, pushing Jack slightly.

"What? Oh- No, no. She's just a neighbor, she's not- I would never-" Jack was trying to explain as the lingerie-clad girl started to dress in an angry-rush. "Wait, where are you-"

"Whatever, Jack. I'm out of here." She snapped as she pulled her shirt over her head and stepped with some trouble into her heels.

"Wait, Ashley, I-" He began to say as she was pushing past him out of the apartment. She turned sharply, glaring him down, and he knew he'd gotten her name wrong now for sure. Kicking himself inwardly, he only sighed as she pushed him again,

"It's Amber, you- Asshole!" Jack watched her storm off for a moment before turning angrily back to Layla.

"See what you did now! God dammit." He hit the door in frustration.

[LAYLA WILKERSON]

Letting out a scoff, Layla took a peak inside the apartment from behind him, which looked a lot like hers: a shabby shack. Opening her mouth and nodding, mouthing the word "oh!" as if she had just discovered something monumental, the brunette sarcastically replied "Oh, of course, very nice. Especially that unrecognizable stain beneath your feet..." she pointed down, a large, dry brown spot on the carpet beneath. "if that doesn't turn 'em on, I don't know what will, by golly." she said, laughing to herself and mentally patting her own shoulder as a job well done. Continuing, she answered "And, maybe you wouldn't be so repulsive to me if your didn't interrupt my Z's, and had some suitable clothes on!" she raised her voice, but pulled it back for the remainder.

Avoiding his eye as he made a very good point, considering the weather in Nevada, and the chances of getting pneumonia despite the freezing cold in her apartment building, she shrugged indifferently. "I was taking precautions..." Layla mumbled back before her head shot up to address his next comment. "Well, unfortunately you'll never see me like that. I know it must be heartbreaking." 

Before Layla could get out a ride remark towards Jack 's flirting, a very beautiful brunette, busty female was questioning who she was. Matching Jack's stuttering, she, too tried to reason with the girl. "There's...no, you don't understand, I hate him! I would never be-he's just-and..." she stopped as Jack called after her with a wring name, causing the twenty year old female to stifle a giggle as she watched Jsck become flustered over losing his date. "You can't even remember her name? Really? You'll put your penis inside her, but you can't remember her name. And you wonder why I don't like you." she said, laughing more. Shrugging, the girl watched as he punched the door. "I didn't do anything. Maybe you shouldn't be flirting with me while you have a girl waiting on you." she whispered, a smile rising onto her face.