Bianca faltered and stopped completely at Miranda's suggestion. The girl didn't give her any time to respond just jogged over towards the group of boys. This was not how it worked, you did not check out a guy and then go up and talk to him. Today was just the first step to let him know you might be interested. What am I supposed to say? Hi, nice to meet you I was totally checking you out a minute ago. That's okay right? There was a line if she'd ever heard one. Ian was just as bad. Hey, nice artwork you did, too bad it breaks the law. And the last one, the creep from the bench.
Bianca frowned and repeated that statement to herself. In all likelihood the other boys would watch out for Miranda, but it wasn't right to let her go over by herself. Hoping she wasn't making a mistake she jogged over to the group catching the end of Ian's greeting.
"Hey," she said including Joshua in her greeting. She avoided names mostly because she couldn't remember the guy from the bench's name for anything. "Not really," Bianca continued. "But I couldn't handle being cooped up inside anymore. Seems like you guys had the same idea."
Gotta Go Fast!
Well, at least someone here knew what he was doing. Ian and the guitar guy both acted like they had a plan, that there wasn't something else they'd normally be doing right now. When Ian mentioned his newest masterpiece, Arthur craned his neck to look over at the bathroom. He had to take his glasses off and wipe them with his undershirt to see them, but sure enough, he could see something over there. It was a little hard to make out, but it was bright and edgy and it made that dingy old bathroom a lot more appealing to look at.
"Nice," Arthur said, looking back up at Ian. Of course, the themes that Ian was talking about were a bit hard to discern at this distance, not that Arthur was sure he could decipher them up close. The societal barriers thing he kind of got - that was what graffiti was for, besides marking territory - but what was this thing about Donovan? Was that a thing? Some sort of band? "I don't know who Donovan is. Are. What kind of music is it?"
And it turned out that the guy on the bench wasn't offended by the sketchbook at all. He even offered up a trade! It was almost like Arthur was a legitimate internet artist. Maybe he should be trying for commissions on Deviant Art, if people liked him this much! Before Arthur could get his own hopes up too much, he took a deep breath and calmed down. He'd need to actually show this guy his art, and pick a song besides. Shit, what went well with just an acoustic guitar. "Um, okay," he told Josh, "think you can play an Elliott Smith song? Something from XO, if you know it." It was a bit of a longshot, Arthur admitted, but maybe he and the player had some tastes in common.
And then Arthur had to get reminded of why he'd gotten so skittish in the first place when Ian greeted "Miranda and Bianca." Arthur turned around and there were the joggers up close. One of them, the one he took a picture of, had her arms folded, and she was looking right at him. His breath caught in his throat and the wave of dizzyness he felt made him hold his head with one hand. What was he supposed to say to her? Should he let on that he knew what she was mad about? Was she even mad about it?
He just stood there, looking back at her like a cornered animal. He should have been drawing Josh and getting a song, but she had to come in and ruin everything.
"Nice," Arthur said, looking back up at Ian. Of course, the themes that Ian was talking about were a bit hard to discern at this distance, not that Arthur was sure he could decipher them up close. The societal barriers thing he kind of got - that was what graffiti was for, besides marking territory - but what was this thing about Donovan? Was that a thing? Some sort of band? "I don't know who Donovan is. Are. What kind of music is it?"
And it turned out that the guy on the bench wasn't offended by the sketchbook at all. He even offered up a trade! It was almost like Arthur was a legitimate internet artist. Maybe he should be trying for commissions on Deviant Art, if people liked him this much! Before Arthur could get his own hopes up too much, he took a deep breath and calmed down. He'd need to actually show this guy his art, and pick a song besides. Shit, what went well with just an acoustic guitar. "Um, okay," he told Josh, "think you can play an Elliott Smith song? Something from XO, if you know it." It was a bit of a longshot, Arthur admitted, but maybe he and the player had some tastes in common.
And then Arthur had to get reminded of why he'd gotten so skittish in the first place when Ian greeted "Miranda and Bianca." Arthur turned around and there were the joggers up close. One of them, the one he took a picture of, had her arms folded, and she was looking right at him. His breath caught in his throat and the wave of dizzyness he felt made him hold his head with one hand. What was he supposed to say to her? Should he let on that he knew what she was mad about? Was she even mad about it?
He just stood there, looking back at her like a cornered animal. He should have been drawing Josh and getting a song, but she had to come in and ruin everything.
Joshua was more focused on his guitar than he was on what Ian was saying; he listened, but didn't pay much attention to the graffiti 'artist'. He strummed the occasional chord as the two other guys went about talking, and tried not to look back at the girls who were jogging. He admired the view but didn't want to make it obvious what he had in mind, and he did not want to just stand there and stare; that was rude, and his uncle would have given him a good whack for it. He saw the brunette say something, but didn't pay it much attention as he tuned his guitar, strumming a few chords when he was done to make sure that it was tuned properly.
Joshua was taking another look at the girls when he heard Ian speak up, and he turned to the other boy and gave him a sheepish grin for calling him out. There was even the faintest flush to his skin, but Joshua knew he could attribute it to the cold. "Hush you," he said, his voice a little sharp but still friendly. "Ain't no harm in looking. I got dumped, remember; I can look all I want now." Telling the other boy that he had been dumped stung a little, the memory still fresh and only a month or two out, but Joshua tried not to show it. No good came out of lingering on it and he tried his best not to think about it, forcibly dragging his attention away from the subject whenever it came up. When Arthur mentioned Elliott Smith, Joshua used that to bring his focus back to the present and searched his mind for anything that resembled the indie folk singer's songs.
"I don't know much of his stuff," Joshua said, looking genuinely apologetic as he tried his fingers on the neck of the guitar and struck one of the few chords he could draw up, a short piece from Waltz #2. Joshua had to be a fan of folk music to an extent, having learned how to play with the acoustic guitar, but he wasn't a fan of the particular brand of folk that the late Elliott Smith had written. "I could try, but I'm just not that big a fan of his; his music always seemed a little too depressing, and I wasn't really into him before he died," he said, and struck another chord, picking up the tune as he slowly went along, closing his eyes and visualizing the music in his head. It was far from perfect, and the music ended up taking on a few more lines of Joshua's own invention as he went along, but it was as close to Elliott Smith as Joshua could get. After playing for a moment, Joshua licked his lips and started singing, his voice soft and smooth and projected the way he practiced.
"She appears composed, so she is, I suppose
Who can really tell?
She shows no emotion at all
Stares into space like a dead china doll
I'm never going to know you now
But I'm going to love you anyhow."
"Sorry, but I don't really know any more of the lyrics," he said as he strummed, his fingers working the strings with a slow gentleness that came with playing that particular brand of folk. It was soft, kind of slow and it sounded more than a little depressing. Despite his apprehension over the song, Joshua continued and improvised as best he could. It was not a very long version of the song, but Joshua did his best on the only part that he could really remember the lyrics and the chords for, which was the closest thing the song had to a chorus.
"I'm never going to know you now
But I'm going to love you anyhow."
When Joshua opened his eyes, he came out of his single-minded focus with a start; he had more of an audience than he knew. Both of the girls had showed up, and it seemed like Joshua had become a little more absorbed in the music than he knew; he didn't hear either of them, or Ian, and had just kept on playing. He realized too late that he had probably been a little more than rude with that, and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again soon after when he couldn't come up with anything. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, and he gave himself a little shake as he did the same with the rest.
He took a deep breath to calm himself, and came out of it with a bright, friendly smile. It faded slightly when he saw the look on Miranda's face, and the way she was holding herself. He knew how to tell if someone was angry, upset, or just plain unhappy; he knew the signs and he knew them well from experience. His mother had given him a similar look several times, and his little sister was quite fond of folding her arms when she wasn't happy with him. It was usually followed up with a question, and no matter how he answered, it always ended in a little yelling. Experience with his little sister and his ex-girlfriend had also taught him that it was almost always his fault, even if it wasn't.
"Hey, um, Miranda," he said, and met the girl with brief eye contact as he greeted her. His uncle had always told him to hold eye contact when you talked with someone since it showed respect and self-confidence. Don't know about all that, but it is nice, he thought, and went back to the friendly smile and the occasional strum of the guitar strings. When he turned to Bianca, he got a good look at those beautiful blue eyes, and a much better look at her sharp features; she was a sight to behold, and Joshua felt that she knew it too. He tried not to let anything show on his own face other than the same friendly smile and the same friendly attitude he always held, but nothing he did could make the attention that he gave her less obvious. "Hey, Bianca," he said with the usual lighthearted cheer in his voice. "Beautiful morning, isn't it? How are the two of you doing this morning?"
Joshua was taking another look at the girls when he heard Ian speak up, and he turned to the other boy and gave him a sheepish grin for calling him out. There was even the faintest flush to his skin, but Joshua knew he could attribute it to the cold. "Hush you," he said, his voice a little sharp but still friendly. "Ain't no harm in looking. I got dumped, remember; I can look all I want now." Telling the other boy that he had been dumped stung a little, the memory still fresh and only a month or two out, but Joshua tried not to show it. No good came out of lingering on it and he tried his best not to think about it, forcibly dragging his attention away from the subject whenever it came up. When Arthur mentioned Elliott Smith, Joshua used that to bring his focus back to the present and searched his mind for anything that resembled the indie folk singer's songs.
"I don't know much of his stuff," Joshua said, looking genuinely apologetic as he tried his fingers on the neck of the guitar and struck one of the few chords he could draw up, a short piece from Waltz #2. Joshua had to be a fan of folk music to an extent, having learned how to play with the acoustic guitar, but he wasn't a fan of the particular brand of folk that the late Elliott Smith had written. "I could try, but I'm just not that big a fan of his; his music always seemed a little too depressing, and I wasn't really into him before he died," he said, and struck another chord, picking up the tune as he slowly went along, closing his eyes and visualizing the music in his head. It was far from perfect, and the music ended up taking on a few more lines of Joshua's own invention as he went along, but it was as close to Elliott Smith as Joshua could get. After playing for a moment, Joshua licked his lips and started singing, his voice soft and smooth and projected the way he practiced.
"She appears composed, so she is, I suppose
Who can really tell?
She shows no emotion at all
Stares into space like a dead china doll
I'm never going to know you now
But I'm going to love you anyhow."
"Sorry, but I don't really know any more of the lyrics," he said as he strummed, his fingers working the strings with a slow gentleness that came with playing that particular brand of folk. It was soft, kind of slow and it sounded more than a little depressing. Despite his apprehension over the song, Joshua continued and improvised as best he could. It was not a very long version of the song, but Joshua did his best on the only part that he could really remember the lyrics and the chords for, which was the closest thing the song had to a chorus.
"I'm never going to know you now
But I'm going to love you anyhow."
When Joshua opened his eyes, he came out of his single-minded focus with a start; he had more of an audience than he knew. Both of the girls had showed up, and it seemed like Joshua had become a little more absorbed in the music than he knew; he didn't hear either of them, or Ian, and had just kept on playing. He realized too late that he had probably been a little more than rude with that, and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again soon after when he couldn't come up with anything. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, and he gave himself a little shake as he did the same with the rest.
He took a deep breath to calm himself, and came out of it with a bright, friendly smile. It faded slightly when he saw the look on Miranda's face, and the way she was holding herself. He knew how to tell if someone was angry, upset, or just plain unhappy; he knew the signs and he knew them well from experience. His mother had given him a similar look several times, and his little sister was quite fond of folding her arms when she wasn't happy with him. It was usually followed up with a question, and no matter how he answered, it always ended in a little yelling. Experience with his little sister and his ex-girlfriend had also taught him that it was almost always his fault, even if it wasn't.
"Hey, um, Miranda," he said, and met the girl with brief eye contact as he greeted her. His uncle had always told him to hold eye contact when you talked with someone since it showed respect and self-confidence. Don't know about all that, but it is nice, he thought, and went back to the friendly smile and the occasional strum of the guitar strings. When he turned to Bianca, he got a good look at those beautiful blue eyes, and a much better look at her sharp features; she was a sight to behold, and Joshua felt that she knew it too. He tried not to let anything show on his own face other than the same friendly smile and the same friendly attitude he always held, but nothing he did could make the attention that he gave her less obvious. "Hey, Bianca," he said with the usual lighthearted cheer in his voice. "Beautiful morning, isn't it? How are the two of you doing this morning?"
-
Casey the Undead*
- Posts: 132
- Joined: Mon Sep 03, 2018 6:27 am
Ian, for the most part, zoned out of the next bit of talking and singing. It wasn't out of malice or anything- Josh was a good singer and the conversation was pretty alright considering it was barely morning, but early-morning-Ian didn't always have the greatest attention span. For the next couple of minutes, Ian swigged coffee and wondered if there were any interesting movies playing at one of the more "artsy" theaters. He also wondered if he turned off the lamp in his room and remembered the lock the door, but there was pretty much nothing he could do about that now. Besides, his parents were resourceful. They wouldn't get murdered by burglars or anything. Besides, Ian always thought he'd make a pretty good Batman. Better than that growly guy they had doing it now, that's for sure. Even the ads on TV used to make him wince.
Ian only zoned back in when he realized that a silence had fallen over the group. Josh had finished singing, and someone was probably supposed to be talking, but no one really was, which was...yeah, okay, a touch weird. Ian stared at the others for a minute, before sliding his hands casually into his pocket. He turned his face towards the sky, thinking of a good conversation starter. Not that he exactly knew where the conversation had gone in the first place, actually.
"So!" He said, clearing his throat. He tapped his foot idly, begging for a conversation to come to him. "How about those Seahawks?"
Well. Shit. That was lame. Ian shrugged one shoulder, shaking his head. Fuck it, if no one else was gonna say anything, they'd have to deal with lame football conversation.
Ian only zoned back in when he realized that a silence had fallen over the group. Josh had finished singing, and someone was probably supposed to be talking, but no one really was, which was...yeah, okay, a touch weird. Ian stared at the others for a minute, before sliding his hands casually into his pocket. He turned his face towards the sky, thinking of a good conversation starter. Not that he exactly knew where the conversation had gone in the first place, actually.
"So!" He said, clearing his throat. He tapped his foot idly, begging for a conversation to come to him. "How about those Seahawks?"
Well. Shit. That was lame. Ian shrugged one shoulder, shaking his head. Fuck it, if no one else was gonna say anything, they'd have to deal with lame football conversation.
"I'm doing great, a little cold, but I'm actually more awake then I thought I was going to be. Though I wouldn't say no to some coffee after I finish my run," she answered Joshua flashing him a smile before turning her attention to the rest of the group.
There was a brief pause in conversation which Ian immediately decided to fill. Bianca wasn't a huge sports fan, but she followed the standings of the local teams. A side effect she'd discovered from the boys she'd recently dated. Bianca was surprised that Miranda hadn't said anything to the boys considering she was the one who had dragged them over here. Bianca would have been perfectly content to continue her circuit of the park. She waited a beat more waiting to see if Miranda would join the conversation.
Sighing softly, she voiced her earlier thoughts. "I'm pretty sure that the Seahawks are out of it for the season. They started off poorly this year. Might have been the new quarterback," Bianca answered recalling bits of conversations she'd had with her ex-boyfriend. She'd filed it safely away; you never knew when information would come in handy. Especially when you hung around as many athletes as she did.
"Do you follow any sports," she asked trying to bring the rest of the group into the conversation.
There was a brief pause in conversation which Ian immediately decided to fill. Bianca wasn't a huge sports fan, but she followed the standings of the local teams. A side effect she'd discovered from the boys she'd recently dated. Bianca was surprised that Miranda hadn't said anything to the boys considering she was the one who had dragged them over here. Bianca would have been perfectly content to continue her circuit of the park. She waited a beat more waiting to see if Miranda would join the conversation.
Sighing softly, she voiced her earlier thoughts. "I'm pretty sure that the Seahawks are out of it for the season. They started off poorly this year. Might have been the new quarterback," Bianca answered recalling bits of conversations she'd had with her ex-boyfriend. She'd filed it safely away; you never knew when information would come in handy. Especially when you hung around as many athletes as she did.
"Do you follow any sports," she asked trying to bring the rest of the group into the conversation.
((So sorry everyone. Life is a bitch and drained most of my posting energy up until recently. I'll just escort Miranda out, leave you to your own business))
Oh, a creeper, a vandal, and... whatever someone could describe Joshua as, all in one place. Goody. What an odd... group. Yeah, Miranda didn't know either. Apparently they did hang around. Huh. Didn't know that. At least Joshua didn't apparently vandalize bathrooms, though, based off of what she had overheard. Nor did he take pictures of jogging women.
"Oh, I'm doing well, guys", she went on, still smiling with arms folded as always.
The photograph guy had seemed scared of her. Of course he would be, she was confronting the group, after all. Ah well. What could you do? He was a creeper, really. Creepy creepy.
With that, a silence came over the group. Miranda found her smile fading a bit. Okay, what now? Miranda didn't usually have trouble knowing what to say. She briefly decided to use the silence to wig the sketchpad guy out a bit, and her gaze fell on him, forcing her smile further.
Then... Seahawks.
To be honest, Miranda didn't follow any sports beyond track and field. Heck, which one was that again? Football? There were a lot of things Miranda liked. Fashion trends. Gossip. The occasional video game and anime, though she'd never admit it. But to be frank, the only familiarity she had with football was when she ended up watching Eyeshield 21 that one time, and frankly, she was 99% sure that was far from accurate.
"Those are the football people, right?" she said.
Wow. She just made herself look dumb, didn't she? Here she was, confronting them about the fact she was sure that one of them took a picture of them with his phone, and now she didn't even know which sport the Seahawks played, or at least wasn't completely sure of that. And Seahawks, she was sure that was her own city. How could she forget that.
"By the way... we came here to ask you guys something" Miranda started.
Okay, the payoff. She kept her gaze on the sketchpad guy.
"A few minutes ago, we were out jogging, and we saw someone. We got kind of nervous and worried that they took a picture of us with their phone. See anything weird, guys?"
Her smile was genuine now. He had already started to look like a trapped puppy the minute they got over there. And it was amazing. She was sure he would need new pants by the time-
A small ringtone came from her pocket. Okay, what was it now?
"Uh... hang on. Sorry..." she mumbled, and fished her phone out.
It had better be good.
"Hello?"
....
"Oh, yeah! I'll head over."
....
"No, it's fine, trust me."
....
"Just confronting someone who took a picture of me with his phone. Nothing major."
....
"Okay, I'll be over there."
....
"Bye!"
Miranda hung up, and soon realized that they had just sat there watching to her talk to someone on the phone. Okay, why did they need to call her right at that moment? Especially so early in the morning?
"Okay, sorry. Just a friend called. I have to go now. I'll... I'll see you guys at school."
One more glance at Sketchpad Guy, just to wig him out.
"Especially you."
She waved at the group, and went off on her own way.
Now to deal with whatever issue her friend had. Hopefully it was something good.
((Miranda Millers continued in High Fashion, High Prices))
Oh, a creeper, a vandal, and... whatever someone could describe Joshua as, all in one place. Goody. What an odd... group. Yeah, Miranda didn't know either. Apparently they did hang around. Huh. Didn't know that. At least Joshua didn't apparently vandalize bathrooms, though, based off of what she had overheard. Nor did he take pictures of jogging women.
"Oh, I'm doing well, guys", she went on, still smiling with arms folded as always.
The photograph guy had seemed scared of her. Of course he would be, she was confronting the group, after all. Ah well. What could you do? He was a creeper, really. Creepy creepy.
With that, a silence came over the group. Miranda found her smile fading a bit. Okay, what now? Miranda didn't usually have trouble knowing what to say. She briefly decided to use the silence to wig the sketchpad guy out a bit, and her gaze fell on him, forcing her smile further.
Then... Seahawks.
To be honest, Miranda didn't follow any sports beyond track and field. Heck, which one was that again? Football? There were a lot of things Miranda liked. Fashion trends. Gossip. The occasional video game and anime, though she'd never admit it. But to be frank, the only familiarity she had with football was when she ended up watching Eyeshield 21 that one time, and frankly, she was 99% sure that was far from accurate.
"Those are the football people, right?" she said.
Wow. She just made herself look dumb, didn't she? Here she was, confronting them about the fact she was sure that one of them took a picture of them with his phone, and now she didn't even know which sport the Seahawks played, or at least wasn't completely sure of that. And Seahawks, she was sure that was her own city. How could she forget that.
"By the way... we came here to ask you guys something" Miranda started.
Okay, the payoff. She kept her gaze on the sketchpad guy.
"A few minutes ago, we were out jogging, and we saw someone. We got kind of nervous and worried that they took a picture of us with their phone. See anything weird, guys?"
Her smile was genuine now. He had already started to look like a trapped puppy the minute they got over there. And it was amazing. She was sure he would need new pants by the time-
A small ringtone came from her pocket. Okay, what was it now?
"Uh... hang on. Sorry..." she mumbled, and fished her phone out.
It had better be good.
"Hello?"
....
"Oh, yeah! I'll head over."
....
"No, it's fine, trust me."
....
"Just confronting someone who took a picture of me with his phone. Nothing major."
....
"Okay, I'll be over there."
....
"Bye!"
Miranda hung up, and soon realized that they had just sat there watching to her talk to someone on the phone. Okay, why did they need to call her right at that moment? Especially so early in the morning?
"Okay, sorry. Just a friend called. I have to go now. I'll... I'll see you guys at school."
One more glance at Sketchpad Guy, just to wig him out.
"Especially you."
She waved at the group, and went off on her own way.
Now to deal with whatever issue her friend had. Hopefully it was something good.
((Miranda Millers continued in High Fashion, High Prices))
Arthur normally divided his attention because of poor planning on his part. Often there were so many things he wanted to do at once that he alternated between them and failed to maintain concentration in either of them. It was a habit he tried to work out of, because his drawings always turned out worse whenever that happened. Now though, he looked between two people who interacted with him, and who expected something from him, be it a drawing or a confession. He couldn't decide who to address first, couldn't focus on drawing Josh with Miranda staring right at him.
Perhaps it was too much to expect Joshua to know much of Elliott Smith's music by heart. Just because the guy was into acoustic guitar songs didn't mean he'd like the same ones Arthur did. So Arthur didn't take it too hard, considering the circumstances. "Oh, that's fine," he mumbled, before Joshua did his best to play Waltz #2. For a moment, the sound of one of Arthur's favorite Elliott Smith songs made him forget about Miranda entirely, and he was able to get lost in the melody. Though Josh barely knew more than one verse of the song, more lyrics sprang to Arthur's mind as he listened to that guitar.
Looking out on the substitute scene, still going strong
XO, mom, it's ok, it's alright, nothing's wrong
Tell Mr. Man with impossible plans to just leave me alone
In the place where I make no mistakes
In the place where I have what it takes
I'm never gonna know you now
But I'm gonna love you anyhow
Arthur couldn't give less of a fuck how emo and whiny people might think Smith was being. This was the kind of understated, melancholy feeling that Arthur knew far too well, when he felt inadequate and weak but didn't want to complain and make a spectacle of himself. Some people understood without even having met him. "That was great, Josh," he said, getting a bit of a smile on his face. "You weren't half bad. Can't wait to hear what you can do with a song you know."
But no song could last forever, and soon Arthur heard the conversation move to sports. Arthur never really understood why people liked to talk about sports that much, but he wasn't about to begrudge them the opportunity. Before he could raise his voice to just above a whisper to state that no, he never really cared for sports at all, though, Miranda finally dropped the other shoe.
"A few minutes ago, we were out jogging, and we saw someone. We got kind of nervous and worried that they took a picture of us with their phone. See anything weird, guys?"
"Yeah, s-sorry, that was me," Arthur said, feeling all the heat in his body rush to his skin in response to his admission of guilt. "I'll get rid of it." He held up his iPod and fumbled through the menu of its camera function with a shaking finger, finding the wretched photograph of Miranda in her jogging gear and deleting it. "See, there it-"
But then Miranda's phone rang, and she left Arthur twisting in the wind. His eyes never left her face as he watched her talk to someone else, but she still kept eye contact with her. Did she know what she was doing? No, this other call was probably important too; she had a right to make it. But did she really have to tell the other party how he fucked up? Thank Christ she didn't know his name.
She hung up, and announced her intention to leave, making her last word on the subject a contemptuous snipe at him. There was no way that she didn't mean to do that. Arthur's faux pas didn't wound her or hurt her feelings. Instead it made her indignant and pissy. Well, two people could play at that game!
Arthur clenched his jaw and held his hands to his head, pressing them as tightly as he could like they were the only thing that kept his skull from exploding. No doubt his friends would be annoyed that he displayed this much anger at a situation that he only had himself to blame for. Before he shouted anything at Miranda from halfway across the park, he took a deep breath. One more, two more, three more. He had to figure a way out, some way that didn't just put him deeper in the hole, but now the girl he had to force himself not to think of as a heartless bitch was gone. Thankfully, her friend was still there, and she hadn't shown herself to be nearly so unreasonable.
"Look," he said, struggling to keep his voice even. "I'm not a pervert. I wasn't jerking off to her. I take reference pictures of people all the f- all the time." No swearing, swearing would only fuck him up more. "Nobody ever, ever complained about it before. But I guess I never did it in a s-s-semi-sexual context like this?" He couldn't remember if that was true or not. He'd drawn people doing athletic, borderline titillating things before, but he couldn't remember ever photographing them in situations like that before. Surely something like this would have come up if he did!
He pulled is sketchpad out again and showed her the drawing of the tree he was working on before Miranda and ¬Bianca had thrown him off his game. The tree was well-detailed, practically a finished sketch, whereas the figure underneath it was so unformed and stick-like that it was hard to tell it was supposed to be female, let alone a scantily-clad jogger. "I didn't even come out here to draw joggers. I just saw you and thought, why not? And now I know why not. I knew it when it was just too late to take back."
The words stopped coming. He couldn't remember the last time he'd said so many to someone he didn't know. But the prospect of Miranda spreading rumors and lies about him around school was so terrifying that he had to speak up and try to fix it. That was it. He'd done everything he could think of that could reasonably make up for that mistake. Now he had to rely on the kindness of strangers.
Perhaps it was too much to expect Joshua to know much of Elliott Smith's music by heart. Just because the guy was into acoustic guitar songs didn't mean he'd like the same ones Arthur did. So Arthur didn't take it too hard, considering the circumstances. "Oh, that's fine," he mumbled, before Joshua did his best to play Waltz #2. For a moment, the sound of one of Arthur's favorite Elliott Smith songs made him forget about Miranda entirely, and he was able to get lost in the melody. Though Josh barely knew more than one verse of the song, more lyrics sprang to Arthur's mind as he listened to that guitar.
Looking out on the substitute scene, still going strong
XO, mom, it's ok, it's alright, nothing's wrong
Tell Mr. Man with impossible plans to just leave me alone
In the place where I make no mistakes
In the place where I have what it takes
I'm never gonna know you now
But I'm gonna love you anyhow
Arthur couldn't give less of a fuck how emo and whiny people might think Smith was being. This was the kind of understated, melancholy feeling that Arthur knew far too well, when he felt inadequate and weak but didn't want to complain and make a spectacle of himself. Some people understood without even having met him. "That was great, Josh," he said, getting a bit of a smile on his face. "You weren't half bad. Can't wait to hear what you can do with a song you know."
But no song could last forever, and soon Arthur heard the conversation move to sports. Arthur never really understood why people liked to talk about sports that much, but he wasn't about to begrudge them the opportunity. Before he could raise his voice to just above a whisper to state that no, he never really cared for sports at all, though, Miranda finally dropped the other shoe.
"A few minutes ago, we were out jogging, and we saw someone. We got kind of nervous and worried that they took a picture of us with their phone. See anything weird, guys?"
"Yeah, s-sorry, that was me," Arthur said, feeling all the heat in his body rush to his skin in response to his admission of guilt. "I'll get rid of it." He held up his iPod and fumbled through the menu of its camera function with a shaking finger, finding the wretched photograph of Miranda in her jogging gear and deleting it. "See, there it-"
But then Miranda's phone rang, and she left Arthur twisting in the wind. His eyes never left her face as he watched her talk to someone else, but she still kept eye contact with her. Did she know what she was doing? No, this other call was probably important too; she had a right to make it. But did she really have to tell the other party how he fucked up? Thank Christ she didn't know his name.
She hung up, and announced her intention to leave, making her last word on the subject a contemptuous snipe at him. There was no way that she didn't mean to do that. Arthur's faux pas didn't wound her or hurt her feelings. Instead it made her indignant and pissy. Well, two people could play at that game!
Arthur clenched his jaw and held his hands to his head, pressing them as tightly as he could like they were the only thing that kept his skull from exploding. No doubt his friends would be annoyed that he displayed this much anger at a situation that he only had himself to blame for. Before he shouted anything at Miranda from halfway across the park, he took a deep breath. One more, two more, three more. He had to figure a way out, some way that didn't just put him deeper in the hole, but now the girl he had to force himself not to think of as a heartless bitch was gone. Thankfully, her friend was still there, and she hadn't shown herself to be nearly so unreasonable.
"Look," he said, struggling to keep his voice even. "I'm not a pervert. I wasn't jerking off to her. I take reference pictures of people all the f- all the time." No swearing, swearing would only fuck him up more. "Nobody ever, ever complained about it before. But I guess I never did it in a s-s-semi-sexual context like this?" He couldn't remember if that was true or not. He'd drawn people doing athletic, borderline titillating things before, but he couldn't remember ever photographing them in situations like that before. Surely something like this would have come up if he did!
He pulled is sketchpad out again and showed her the drawing of the tree he was working on before Miranda and ¬Bianca had thrown him off his game. The tree was well-detailed, practically a finished sketch, whereas the figure underneath it was so unformed and stick-like that it was hard to tell it was supposed to be female, let alone a scantily-clad jogger. "I didn't even come out here to draw joggers. I just saw you and thought, why not? And now I know why not. I knew it when it was just too late to take back."
The words stopped coming. He couldn't remember the last time he'd said so many to someone he didn't know. But the prospect of Miranda spreading rumors and lies about him around school was so terrifying that he had to speak up and try to fix it. That was it. He'd done everything he could think of that could reasonably make up for that mistake. Now he had to rely on the kindness of strangers.
When his song was finished, Joshua left his guitar to hang and he focused his attention on his hands. His fingers were stiff, and his joints ached, and he had started doing whatever he could to warm them up; but he never stopped smiling, even as he worked the feeling back in to his fingers. He caught Bianca's smile and returned it threefold, and as an awkward silence fell over the group, he turned her words over in his head. Coffee, huh? I'll have to stick around then, he thought, and tried to hide the smirk from coming out after his smile had faded. Arthur seemed distracted for a bit, but he eventually snapped out of it and complemented Joshua's singing, which he responded to with a quick smile that soon disappeared as the awkward silence hung around. The silence stretched on, started by a delay and exacerbated by a lack of conversation material, and Joshua swore he could see the daggers that Miranda was staring at Arthur. He didn't see any reason for her to be so angry at poor Arthur, but he didn't say anything at first. He just started to think she was kind of a bitch. His aunt would smack him for that, but Joshua was sure that she would say the same if she could see the way Miranda was acting without any apparent reason for it.
Joshua was standing there and mulling over what he was going to say to Bianca, and what he could say to spark up conversation, when Ian chirped up with a line that was about as close to 'classic Ian' as he could get. He picked a subject and threw it in to awkward silences like a grenade, and sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. It was his not so subtle way of saying "So, how about them current events?" Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't, but it was a shot in the arm that this little gathering needed. Bianca came in with a word or two on topic, but Joshua could feel the tension in the air as Miranda was glaring at Arthur, and for a moment he imagined Arthur as poor Milton from Office Space. He felt for the guy, he really did, and he was happy when Miranda was distracted by the newly started conversation about sports. She made herself look a fool, but Joshua just smiled and picked up on Bianca's question. "I don't follow it professionally as much as I should, but I do play Soccer. I followed it for a while, but no one ever seems too interested in carrying on a conversation about recent soccer games half the world away. At least not until the world cup rolls around," he said with a laugh at the end, and that smile that seemed to follow just about everything he said. "Besides, I like to play it instead of talking about it."
Miranda's attempt at confrontation and subsequent phone call cut off any further conversation, and as she answered it and talked to whoever it was on the other end of the line, Joshua's opinion about her was pretty well cemented. He thought she was a bitch, through and through. It may have been circumstance, but the way she was acting, and the way she had been staring at Arthur, and the added rudeness of answering her phone and not excusing herself but rather standing there and carrying on her conversation as if they didn't exist, it all added up to make Joshua think she was a bitch. Even his aunt wouldn't smack him this time. He was sure of it. But he didn't show it, not as long as she was around. So as she talked and finally hung up, and made a snippy remark directed at Arthur before leaving, Joshua just smiled. But the moment she was gone, it faded and was quickly replaced by the closest thing to a scowl that Joshua could manage.
He felt for Arthur, he really did. To him, Arthur was like Milton. To him, Arthur was a lot like any number of friends he's had, and pretty much exactly like Joshua was in middle school. Socially awkward, not sure of what to do or say in most situations, and never really knowing if it was the right thing to say or not when he finally works up the courage to speak. Joshua knew what it felt to be that guy, so his heart went out to Arthur. When Arthur offered up his feeble defense, Joshua really just wanted to pat the guy on the back and tell him it was okay, but he knew that wasn't going to help much. He knew how it felt to fuck up like that, and how much he ended up fretting over it afterward. Being told everything was going to be alright almost never made him feel better, and he doubted it would do much for Arthur either, but Joshua still felt bad about not saying it. He tried to think about what he would be worrying about in Arthur's situation, and he realized that the biggest concern was what Miranda had last said to him, that remark about seeing him in school.
Of all the things that Joshua dreaded happening when he was younger, it was someone spreading rumors about him in school and fucking up any possible relationships, friendly or otherwise. Just the possibility that someone could be talking about him behind his back had been horrible. He knew Arthur must be feeling the same way and racked his brain trying to come up with something to say, anything that could alleviate that slowly building panic that settles in the hollow pit opening up in his stomach. As the moment slowly passed by, Joshua realized that the best thing he could do was mention himself. Not just himself, either. The best thing he could do was mention the three other people standing around Arthur. Thinking about whether or not Bianca and Ian would be agreeing with him distracted Joshua. His thoughts drifted in Bianca's direction, and the comment she made before Miranda left, the one about coffee. He resolved to say something to her after he did what he could for Arthur, and forced his thoughts back to the subject at hand.
"Hey man, don't worry. You've got the three of us to bear witness if she says anything in school. We know you're not a creeper, and I think more people will believe us over her. Try not to worry too much. I'll personally vouch for you if anything is said. And between us, I highly doubt that is the first time she's ever been 'photographed'," and he put emphasis on the word photographed, a slight inflection added to the word to make up for the lack of air quotes, but he doesn't pause his short and fast monologue. "No offense or anything, Bianca, but Miranda is kind of... how to put it," he said, pausing to come up with something that was both insulting, and not insulting, and failing miserably at finding a compromise. Eventually, he gives up trying to find something, and settles for the description that he came up with after listening to her make her best confrontational tones and doing her best to stare daggers into Arthur. "She's a bitch, honestly. I've heard some of the things she says about people around school, her and the rest of those girls she hangs with, and I really think she's just a bitch. Sorry if I offend anyone, but that's just what it comes down to with me."
He took a breath at the end of his little monologue, and realized that he probably said a lot more than he should have. He realized that Bianca may very well have been closer to Miranda than he thought, and that every word he just said could make it back to her ears, but in the end he comes to the conclusion that he doesn't really care. After the way she handled that situation, and the way she acts in school, hanging out with her 'popular' friends, he just doesn't think he can see her as anything but a bitch. But given how Miranda just left Bianca behind without so much as a proper goodbye, he doubted they were very close. He even thought for a moment that Bianca may feel the exact same way. But then he realized that he was scowling at where Miranda had only just been standing, and he tried to put on his friendly demeanor again, despite the fact that it felt a little forced at the moment. He smiled at the group, and took a page out of Ian's book, and did what he could to change the subject, opening his mouth to say something only to realize that he didn't have anything prepared to say.
He tried to come up with something to say at the last second, but nothing substantial was coming to him. The best thing that he could come up with was to bastardize Ian's playbook and literally burst out with "So, how about them current events?", and he knew that was simply unacceptable. So he tried to find something else, something better, and the only thing that came to mind was Bianca's comment about coffee. He had been thinking about asking Bianca out, and that was the only thing that came to mind as he frantically tried to find something, so he abandoned any other thought and focused in on that one thing. The only thing he could think about. Coffee. "So, how about that coffee?"
It was an awkward question and he asked it at an awkward time, and he realized it a moment later. But it bought him a little time to catch his thoughts and organize himself once again. He worked out what he was going to say, and flashed that smile of his once again, trying to dissipate any lingering awkwardness and tension. He knew he went a little far with what he said, so he tried to make up for it. It was probably a bad time to ask just Bianca to coffee, so he figured that he would extend the invitation to everyone. "Well, what I mean is, how would you all like to go get breakfast? I know a place nearby, it's got really good coffee and amazing omelets. My treat, if you guys are up for it," he said, and flashed that smile of his again. That ever present smile.
Joshua was standing there and mulling over what he was going to say to Bianca, and what he could say to spark up conversation, when Ian chirped up with a line that was about as close to 'classic Ian' as he could get. He picked a subject and threw it in to awkward silences like a grenade, and sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. It was his not so subtle way of saying "So, how about them current events?" Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't, but it was a shot in the arm that this little gathering needed. Bianca came in with a word or two on topic, but Joshua could feel the tension in the air as Miranda was glaring at Arthur, and for a moment he imagined Arthur as poor Milton from Office Space. He felt for the guy, he really did, and he was happy when Miranda was distracted by the newly started conversation about sports. She made herself look a fool, but Joshua just smiled and picked up on Bianca's question. "I don't follow it professionally as much as I should, but I do play Soccer. I followed it for a while, but no one ever seems too interested in carrying on a conversation about recent soccer games half the world away. At least not until the world cup rolls around," he said with a laugh at the end, and that smile that seemed to follow just about everything he said. "Besides, I like to play it instead of talking about it."
Miranda's attempt at confrontation and subsequent phone call cut off any further conversation, and as she answered it and talked to whoever it was on the other end of the line, Joshua's opinion about her was pretty well cemented. He thought she was a bitch, through and through. It may have been circumstance, but the way she was acting, and the way she had been staring at Arthur, and the added rudeness of answering her phone and not excusing herself but rather standing there and carrying on her conversation as if they didn't exist, it all added up to make Joshua think she was a bitch. Even his aunt wouldn't smack him this time. He was sure of it. But he didn't show it, not as long as she was around. So as she talked and finally hung up, and made a snippy remark directed at Arthur before leaving, Joshua just smiled. But the moment she was gone, it faded and was quickly replaced by the closest thing to a scowl that Joshua could manage.
He felt for Arthur, he really did. To him, Arthur was like Milton. To him, Arthur was a lot like any number of friends he's had, and pretty much exactly like Joshua was in middle school. Socially awkward, not sure of what to do or say in most situations, and never really knowing if it was the right thing to say or not when he finally works up the courage to speak. Joshua knew what it felt to be that guy, so his heart went out to Arthur. When Arthur offered up his feeble defense, Joshua really just wanted to pat the guy on the back and tell him it was okay, but he knew that wasn't going to help much. He knew how it felt to fuck up like that, and how much he ended up fretting over it afterward. Being told everything was going to be alright almost never made him feel better, and he doubted it would do much for Arthur either, but Joshua still felt bad about not saying it. He tried to think about what he would be worrying about in Arthur's situation, and he realized that the biggest concern was what Miranda had last said to him, that remark about seeing him in school.
Of all the things that Joshua dreaded happening when he was younger, it was someone spreading rumors about him in school and fucking up any possible relationships, friendly or otherwise. Just the possibility that someone could be talking about him behind his back had been horrible. He knew Arthur must be feeling the same way and racked his brain trying to come up with something to say, anything that could alleviate that slowly building panic that settles in the hollow pit opening up in his stomach. As the moment slowly passed by, Joshua realized that the best thing he could do was mention himself. Not just himself, either. The best thing he could do was mention the three other people standing around Arthur. Thinking about whether or not Bianca and Ian would be agreeing with him distracted Joshua. His thoughts drifted in Bianca's direction, and the comment she made before Miranda left, the one about coffee. He resolved to say something to her after he did what he could for Arthur, and forced his thoughts back to the subject at hand.
"Hey man, don't worry. You've got the three of us to bear witness if she says anything in school. We know you're not a creeper, and I think more people will believe us over her. Try not to worry too much. I'll personally vouch for you if anything is said. And between us, I highly doubt that is the first time she's ever been 'photographed'," and he put emphasis on the word photographed, a slight inflection added to the word to make up for the lack of air quotes, but he doesn't pause his short and fast monologue. "No offense or anything, Bianca, but Miranda is kind of... how to put it," he said, pausing to come up with something that was both insulting, and not insulting, and failing miserably at finding a compromise. Eventually, he gives up trying to find something, and settles for the description that he came up with after listening to her make her best confrontational tones and doing her best to stare daggers into Arthur. "She's a bitch, honestly. I've heard some of the things she says about people around school, her and the rest of those girls she hangs with, and I really think she's just a bitch. Sorry if I offend anyone, but that's just what it comes down to with me."
He took a breath at the end of his little monologue, and realized that he probably said a lot more than he should have. He realized that Bianca may very well have been closer to Miranda than he thought, and that every word he just said could make it back to her ears, but in the end he comes to the conclusion that he doesn't really care. After the way she handled that situation, and the way she acts in school, hanging out with her 'popular' friends, he just doesn't think he can see her as anything but a bitch. But given how Miranda just left Bianca behind without so much as a proper goodbye, he doubted they were very close. He even thought for a moment that Bianca may feel the exact same way. But then he realized that he was scowling at where Miranda had only just been standing, and he tried to put on his friendly demeanor again, despite the fact that it felt a little forced at the moment. He smiled at the group, and took a page out of Ian's book, and did what he could to change the subject, opening his mouth to say something only to realize that he didn't have anything prepared to say.
He tried to come up with something to say at the last second, but nothing substantial was coming to him. The best thing that he could come up with was to bastardize Ian's playbook and literally burst out with "So, how about them current events?", and he knew that was simply unacceptable. So he tried to find something else, something better, and the only thing that came to mind was Bianca's comment about coffee. He had been thinking about asking Bianca out, and that was the only thing that came to mind as he frantically tried to find something, so he abandoned any other thought and focused in on that one thing. The only thing he could think about. Coffee. "So, how about that coffee?"
It was an awkward question and he asked it at an awkward time, and he realized it a moment later. But it bought him a little time to catch his thoughts and organize himself once again. He worked out what he was going to say, and flashed that smile of his once again, trying to dissipate any lingering awkwardness and tension. He knew he went a little far with what he said, so he tried to make up for it. It was probably a bad time to ask just Bianca to coffee, so he figured that he would extend the invitation to everyone. "Well, what I mean is, how would you all like to go get breakfast? I know a place nearby, it's got really good coffee and amazing omelets. My treat, if you guys are up for it," he said, and flashed that smile of his again. That ever present smile.
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Casey the Undead*
- Posts: 132
- Joined: Mon Sep 03, 2018 6:27 am
Ian blinked, taking a second to process what just happened. He shook his head out, mind working through the details.
Right, okay, first things first; Art. "Hey, man, woah, calm down." Ian thew his arms out carefully, patting Art on the shoulder. "We believe you. I, for one, highly doubt your creepiness, and, in fact, find it to be an endearing and redeeming quality." He smiled, aiming for something reassuring. "Besides, a photo on an iPod isn't creepy. It's art, man." Ian let his mind wander to that one painter who made a portrait out of his wife's menstrual blood. Really, Ian was good at putting things into context after that, because nothing would ever beat that on the creepy scale.
Right, so that took care of that. Then, next thing; Miranda. Ian frowned at the girl now walking away from them, pulling his free hand through his hair. He wasn't usually one to throw casual judgement out at people who were pretty much just acquaintances, but seriously, that was rude. For a girl so concerned with what other people were doing, she sure didn't stick around to hear their justifications. Ian just shook his head. Her awful manners weren't his problem right now anyways.
He turned back to Joshua, who was still smiling. Good old Josh. Could always count on a smile from that guy, couldn't you? "I, for one, think Bianca is right on the coffee thing. Coffee sounds fantastic. Although I am going to repeatedly object to you paying, and then let you pay regardless. Fair warning."
He patted Art's arm again. "You coming, man?" He smiled again, and thought about cracking a joke about photographing patrons at the restaurant. It was probably too soon. "You'd probably like the way Josh takes his coffee." He shifted his attention to Josh, still grinning. "You like it black, right? Like your soul?" He snickered to himself.
He turned to Bianca. "You ever had breakfast with a group of artists? Cause, let me tell you, it'll either be hilarious or tragic. Or both. Like La Boheme. Only with less tuberculosis." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Same amount of singing, though," he said, smirking at Josh.
Right, okay, first things first; Art. "Hey, man, woah, calm down." Ian thew his arms out carefully, patting Art on the shoulder. "We believe you. I, for one, highly doubt your creepiness, and, in fact, find it to be an endearing and redeeming quality." He smiled, aiming for something reassuring. "Besides, a photo on an iPod isn't creepy. It's art, man." Ian let his mind wander to that one painter who made a portrait out of his wife's menstrual blood. Really, Ian was good at putting things into context after that, because nothing would ever beat that on the creepy scale.
Right, so that took care of that. Then, next thing; Miranda. Ian frowned at the girl now walking away from them, pulling his free hand through his hair. He wasn't usually one to throw casual judgement out at people who were pretty much just acquaintances, but seriously, that was rude. For a girl so concerned with what other people were doing, she sure didn't stick around to hear their justifications. Ian just shook his head. Her awful manners weren't his problem right now anyways.
He turned back to Joshua, who was still smiling. Good old Josh. Could always count on a smile from that guy, couldn't you? "I, for one, think Bianca is right on the coffee thing. Coffee sounds fantastic. Although I am going to repeatedly object to you paying, and then let you pay regardless. Fair warning."
He patted Art's arm again. "You coming, man?" He smiled again, and thought about cracking a joke about photographing patrons at the restaurant. It was probably too soon. "You'd probably like the way Josh takes his coffee." He shifted his attention to Josh, still grinning. "You like it black, right? Like your soul?" He snickered to himself.
He turned to Bianca. "You ever had breakfast with a group of artists? Cause, let me tell you, it'll either be hilarious or tragic. Or both. Like La Boheme. Only with less tuberculosis." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Same amount of singing, though," he said, smirking at Josh.
Bianca tensed as Miranda finally decided to join the conversation. She rolled her eyes at the girl's lack of knowledge. What was with that comment about weird guys? Miranda was supposed to be confronting the guy in front of them not skirt around the issue. Then Miranda's phone rang and she stepped away. Great, Bianca thought. What exactly was she supposed to do now?
Eventually Miranda got off the phone, and even as the guy was struggling to explain himself, she left. Wait! She left? That bitch! Now Bianca was stuck here trying to make awkward conversation with three guys they barely knew. Well, two guys she barely knew and one she'd like to get to know a little better. Not that Miranda knew that when she'd flitted off. What a bitch!
Before Bianca could add anymore the other two boys were quick to jump to ease the picture taker's mind. She really needed to get his name. What they said was mostly right, however she did feel that she should point out that the behavior was still creepy.
"It was a little creepy, maybe next time you should ask before you do it. It wasn't so much that we were being photographed, but as you so eloquently said, it was the why we were concerned about."
She turned to Joshua and Ian considering the matter closed.
"I dated a couple of artists back in 10th grade. To be honest, they were way to in to finding their passion or their muse or whatever they call it, for me. I didn't want to wait around while they went searching for whatever it is. That might be cool for girls like Miranda, but I kind of like thinking that I'm important in a relationship."
"I guess our only decision now is where we want to go for coffee," she said quickly hiding her disappointment at the fact that the other two boys were going to be joining them.
Eventually Miranda got off the phone, and even as the guy was struggling to explain himself, she left. Wait! She left? That bitch! Now Bianca was stuck here trying to make awkward conversation with three guys they barely knew. Well, two guys she barely knew and one she'd like to get to know a little better. Not that Miranda knew that when she'd flitted off. What a bitch!
Before Bianca could add anymore the other two boys were quick to jump to ease the picture taker's mind. She really needed to get his name. What they said was mostly right, however she did feel that she should point out that the behavior was still creepy.
"It was a little creepy, maybe next time you should ask before you do it. It wasn't so much that we were being photographed, but as you so eloquently said, it was the why we were concerned about."
She turned to Joshua and Ian considering the matter closed.
"I dated a couple of artists back in 10th grade. To be honest, they were way to in to finding their passion or their muse or whatever they call it, for me. I didn't want to wait around while they went searching for whatever it is. That might be cool for girls like Miranda, but I kind of like thinking that I'm important in a relationship."
"I guess our only decision now is where we want to go for coffee," she said quickly hiding her disappointment at the fact that the other two boys were going to be joining them.
Ian rushed to Arhur's defense almost immediately. Even the fact that Ian practically interrupted him didn't make Arthur begrudge his words of support. "Thanks, guys," he said. "I just get really worried sometimes and, well, you know." Did they know? Did he know? It didn't really matter.
But of course Ian and Joshua would take his side. They were friends of his, after all. But Bianca probably wouldn't be so understanding to a perfect stranger. The best he could have hoped for was her cautious warnings not to do it again, which is what he got. "Okay. I'll do my best to ask permission from now on." It was the best answer he could think of at the moment. He couldn't exactly promise that he wouldn't do it again. He'd spent a few months getting into the habit of taking photographic references of people, and now it looked like he'd have to get back out of it.
Oh well. He could worry about that later. What was important was that he had an excuse to get out of the frigid weather. "I'd love to go with you guys," he said, standing up and putting his sketchbook away. "Hope you don't mind if I don't drink coffee, though. I never really got used to the taste."
He couldn't help laughing when they asked about breakfast with artists. "Well, I'll try not to be so, um, um, airy around you," he told Bianca. "Lead the way, Josh."
((Arthur Wells continued in Whatever))
But of course Ian and Joshua would take his side. They were friends of his, after all. But Bianca probably wouldn't be so understanding to a perfect stranger. The best he could have hoped for was her cautious warnings not to do it again, which is what he got. "Okay. I'll do my best to ask permission from now on." It was the best answer he could think of at the moment. He couldn't exactly promise that he wouldn't do it again. He'd spent a few months getting into the habit of taking photographic references of people, and now it looked like he'd have to get back out of it.
Oh well. He could worry about that later. What was important was that he had an excuse to get out of the frigid weather. "I'd love to go with you guys," he said, standing up and putting his sketchbook away. "Hope you don't mind if I don't drink coffee, though. I never really got used to the taste."
He couldn't help laughing when they asked about breakfast with artists. "Well, I'll try not to be so, um, um, airy around you," he told Bianca. "Lead the way, Josh."
((Arthur Wells continued in Whatever))
Joshua had asked them all out to breakfast, hoping that Ian and Arthur would have other things to do and hoping to get some time alone with Bianca, but it looked like neither of the guys were going to let that happen. For a moment, he felt like giving Ian a smack as he listened to the artist vandal go on and make his quips. He suspected Ian was doing it on purpose to sabotage any chance Joshua had at normal date with Bianca, but rejected the idea. Joshua had invited all of them, and he really shouldn't have expected the two guys to leave him alone with Bianca just because he wanted them to. He should have known they would take him up on the offer of a free breakfast. Everybody likes free food, and no one would pass on an offer like that. So, while Ian and Arthur affirmed their interest in a free meal and some free coffee, Joshua looked around and tried to remember just how far away Beth's was. Best place to go for a good meal, in Joshua's opinion.
"Well, what do you guys think about hitting up Beth's Cafe? It shouldn't be too far, and it's a great place to hit up if you haven't gone," Joshua said, that bright smile coming back even as he shoved his hands into his pockets to warm them up, quietly cursing his choice to forgo gloves. A quick glance down at the case at his feet confirmed his thoughts as he waited for a moment; he didn't have anywhere near enough money in tips to pay for breakfast. That meant he had to dip in to his wallet instead of letting the weekend pay for itself and the week to come. He liked picking up tips for his music, and some days turned out better than others, but it seemed that it just wasn't his day. He counted less than $10, most of it in change, and there just hadn't been that many people out to enjoy the weather. He should have figured that would happen. Winter was always light on park-goers.
Joshua squatted down as he pulled the guitar strap from his shoulders and carefully deposited the prized instrument in the case, quickly pocketing the money lying at the bottom of the padded case. Quickly closing it and securing the latches, he picked up the case and kicked aside the rocks and sticks that were lying beneath it to hold it up off of the ground, giving the case itself a once over and a quick brush to make sure it was clean. It was a nice case - a 5-ply hardshell with a dark red padded lining and faux-leather outer coating, with three hinges and as many latches to match in polished brass, a heavy duty handle, and aftermarket shoulder strap added to the backside - and he didn't want to risk damage or dirt to it. Standing with the case hanging across his back, Joshua flashed that smile of his to the group again and nodded. "Ready?"
"Shouldn't be too far from here," he added after a moment, turning to head down the path and toward the entrance to the park. It was still cold out, but it looked to be getting nicer out. He didn't know how the others felt about the weather, but he couldn't wait until spring came and brought the sun and warmer temperatures with it. He didn't mind the snow, but he was definitely getting tired of the cold and the gloom and was looking forward to sunny days in the park. He grinned thinking about that. Not only would it be nice weather, but it would mean more people hearing his music and tossing money in his coffer. On some of the best days of the spring and summer, when it wasn't too hot or too cold, too windy or too wet, he could pull in almost $100. But only on the best days. He idly ran his fingers along the case strap hanging from his shoulder as he thought about that. He owed a lot to his guitar, and if things turned out well enough, he may even owe his chance for a date with Bianca to it as well. Maybe. Just maybe, he thought with a smile, and turned back to the group, checking to make sure they were still following him. "You guys are going to love Beth's. Great coffee, and amazing omelets. And hash browns. My god, the hash browns. They never stop coming. And hey, if you feel like drawing something while we're there Arthur, you can hang it up on the wall!"
[Joshua Edwards - Continued in So, there's this girl...]
"Well, what do you guys think about hitting up Beth's Cafe? It shouldn't be too far, and it's a great place to hit up if you haven't gone," Joshua said, that bright smile coming back even as he shoved his hands into his pockets to warm them up, quietly cursing his choice to forgo gloves. A quick glance down at the case at his feet confirmed his thoughts as he waited for a moment; he didn't have anywhere near enough money in tips to pay for breakfast. That meant he had to dip in to his wallet instead of letting the weekend pay for itself and the week to come. He liked picking up tips for his music, and some days turned out better than others, but it seemed that it just wasn't his day. He counted less than $10, most of it in change, and there just hadn't been that many people out to enjoy the weather. He should have figured that would happen. Winter was always light on park-goers.
Joshua squatted down as he pulled the guitar strap from his shoulders and carefully deposited the prized instrument in the case, quickly pocketing the money lying at the bottom of the padded case. Quickly closing it and securing the latches, he picked up the case and kicked aside the rocks and sticks that were lying beneath it to hold it up off of the ground, giving the case itself a once over and a quick brush to make sure it was clean. It was a nice case - a 5-ply hardshell with a dark red padded lining and faux-leather outer coating, with three hinges and as many latches to match in polished brass, a heavy duty handle, and aftermarket shoulder strap added to the backside - and he didn't want to risk damage or dirt to it. Standing with the case hanging across his back, Joshua flashed that smile of his to the group again and nodded. "Ready?"
"Shouldn't be too far from here," he added after a moment, turning to head down the path and toward the entrance to the park. It was still cold out, but it looked to be getting nicer out. He didn't know how the others felt about the weather, but he couldn't wait until spring came and brought the sun and warmer temperatures with it. He didn't mind the snow, but he was definitely getting tired of the cold and the gloom and was looking forward to sunny days in the park. He grinned thinking about that. Not only would it be nice weather, but it would mean more people hearing his music and tossing money in his coffer. On some of the best days of the spring and summer, when it wasn't too hot or too cold, too windy or too wet, he could pull in almost $100. But only on the best days. He idly ran his fingers along the case strap hanging from his shoulder as he thought about that. He owed a lot to his guitar, and if things turned out well enough, he may even owe his chance for a date with Bianca to it as well. Maybe. Just maybe, he thought with a smile, and turned back to the group, checking to make sure they were still following him. "You guys are going to love Beth's. Great coffee, and amazing omelets. And hash browns. My god, the hash browns. They never stop coming. And hey, if you feel like drawing something while we're there Arthur, you can hang it up on the wall!"
[Joshua Edwards - Continued in So, there's this girl...]
-
Casey the Undead*
- Posts: 132
- Joined: Mon Sep 03, 2018 6:27 am
Ian grinned around at the weird grouping of people he'd managed to find himself in. It sounded like a bad joke: a graffiti artist, a drawer, a street musician, and a runner all walk into a diner. Ian just hoped the punchline wouldn't be "The Aristocrats!"
Dimly, it occurred to Ian that Josh might have been aiming to get some alone time with Bianca. Well, if the looks Josh kept shooting Bianca and the evident disappointment in her voice were any indicator of the truth. Ian supposed he should feel bad- and he did, kind of. Nothing worse than being the awkward third wheel. But, hey, Josh had invited them all to breakfast. And this was Ian. Food was food, friends be damned.
"Beth's sounds good! I mostly just eat toast and drink coffee, anyways." He snickered to himself.
Ian started to follow Josh as the other boy led the way, grinning to himself. "Dude, you should have kept that photo to hang up. That would have been hilarious." He paused. "Creepy. But hilarious."
He smiled at the others as they kept going. It had turned out to be a pretty good morning after all, hadn't it?
"I swear though, if you're lying to me about the quality of this coffee Josh, I will find a way to make you pay dearly."
(Ian Valmont, continued elsewhere)
Dimly, it occurred to Ian that Josh might have been aiming to get some alone time with Bianca. Well, if the looks Josh kept shooting Bianca and the evident disappointment in her voice were any indicator of the truth. Ian supposed he should feel bad- and he did, kind of. Nothing worse than being the awkward third wheel. But, hey, Josh had invited them all to breakfast. And this was Ian. Food was food, friends be damned.
"Beth's sounds good! I mostly just eat toast and drink coffee, anyways." He snickered to himself.
Ian started to follow Josh as the other boy led the way, grinning to himself. "Dude, you should have kept that photo to hang up. That would have been hilarious." He paused. "Creepy. But hilarious."
He smiled at the others as they kept going. It had turned out to be a pretty good morning after all, hadn't it?
"I swear though, if you're lying to me about the quality of this coffee Josh, I will find a way to make you pay dearly."
(Ian Valmont, continued elsewhere)
Bianca rolled her eyes as the boys decided where they were going to eat. Although she had to give them credit, they were a lot more decisive than the guys she'd dated as a sophomore. She liked Beth's well enough so nodded her agreement. She wasn't really dressed to head out to a restaurant, but it was still early enough in the morning that the risk of running into someone else was minimal. Besides Josh intrigued her and didn't seem to mind her outfit. Smiling at her decision to get up early, she headed towards the restaurant.
((Bianca Howard continued in Watch the Birdie))
((Bianca Howard continued in Watch the Birdie))