Spoilers: Let's say 2.06 to be safe.
Dedicated to forcedmovement...she knows why.
Summary: What's in a name? (It's possible this is slightly AU, depending on whether Dick's father was ever actually referred to as Dick Sr. on the show)
Richard Casablancas took his eyes off the tv screen long enough to glance at the notebook he had in his lap. He twirled his ink pen between his thumb and his first finger, and sighed. A moan from the television captured his attention again. With a smirk, he shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He was extremely glad that his parents were out of town.
He tapped the pen against the notebook before doodling in the margins. Pausing the dvd player, he held up the notebook and read what he'd written aloud.
"Richie Casablancas." He shook his head. "If that doesn't scream wuss, I don't know what does." Richard scratched it out.
"Rich Casablancas." He scratched that one out too. Sure, he was rich...but being Rich Casablancas just wasn't him. He restarted the movie, frustrated.
The search for a new name had come at the beginning of the summer, with the realization that his younger brother would be starting high school the next year. Richard was determined to change his image. Gone would be the boy on the fringes of the 09er crowd. Gone would be the boy who only got invited to parties because he lived in the right zip code. Richard Casablancas would be no more.
He was going to become an 09er, not just in name, but in spirit. He'd spent all of his freshman year figuring out who the most popular of the 09er's were, and the best way to get in good with them. It all hinged on becoming friends with Logan Echolls...and to do that, he needed a new name...one that would let everyone know exactly who was.
"Ri-chard" He said, giving his name a French pronunciation. He scratched that one out too. It would be extremely obvious that he wasn't French, which was a shame, because he really liked the way that one sounded.
"Are you watching porn?" A voice exclaimed from the doorway of the living room. Richard turned to see his brother standing there, his mouth twisted into a horrified expression.
"What's it to you, little brother?" Richard snapped, quickly shutting the cover of his notebook and dropping it to the floor with the pen.
"You're not supposed to be watching that. Dad said." Cassidy informed him, a hand clamped over his eyes.
"Well, I'm not going to tell him, and you're not going to tell him, so how would he know?" Richard said, his tone indicating that Cassidy would pay dearly for spilling the beans to their father. They were quiet, the sounds from the movie filling the room. Cassidy shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, flushing to the roots of his hair. "Are you going to stand there, or are you going to watch?" Richard snapped at his brother.
Cassidy looked like he was debating it, before slowly making his way into the living room and sitting on the edge of the couch. Richard had to hold in his laugh at his brother's wide-eyed stare.
"Girls don't really do that, do they?" Cassidy asked.
"Not with guys like you, they don't." Richard answered, smirking.
"God, Richard. Why do you always have to be such a dick?" Cassidy shouted at his brother.
Richard paused, a smile spreading across his face.
That was it.
It was perfect.