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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• Set me f r e e, .. leave me b e
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Evelyn • M a r i e • Madison
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                                          “Hmm… How cozy….”

                                          The smell of sweat and cigarette smoke was almost overwhelming in the small cheap hotel room. And Allure Sport… she couldn’t forget the Allure Sport. Hadn’t the client sprayed a gallon of it on himself before she’d slid into the black leather of his SUV? Hadn’t she smelled that cologne the night before, and the night before that? God, she hated that smell…but she put up with it, because he shelled out the big bills for her services. Eve liked big bills. She stepped into the room, blue eyes, a little glassy from rapid alcohol intake, taking in the scenery. It was a s**t hole, but it had a bed and a bathroom, and that was all that was required for her line of work? Behind her, the client closed and locked the door, unloosening his tie and dimming the lights. He could hardly wait it seemed, already slipping out of his clothes. She’d been “seeing him” for two weeks now, and yet she didn’t know his name. He didn’t know hers either, not really. It was part of the game, and she supposed it added to his fantasy. She did know he was married, and that his wife was a stuffy librarian, that was so afraid of sex it pained her to even think about it. Thus, he came to the restaurant at closing nightly to pick her up, and take her to whatever hotel was closest. After a passionate night of lovemaking, that lasted close to about seven minutes, he would give her two hundred bucks in hundred dollar bills. In the morning he would be gone, and she would pay the bill for the hotel, and take a taxi back to her apartment. She wished she could just skip to that part…



                                          “I’ve been thinking about you all morning,” he said as he pulled his pants down around his ankles. Eve watched him with a raised brow. He was not handsome, not at all. He was losing his hair in his old age, and gaining weight under his chin and around his stomach. What little hair he had left was sprinkled all over his chest…Eve hated the way it felt against her chest when he pressed against her. She pushed that thought aside… It was for the money. She needed the money. “I could barely get through a board meeting without wishing time would go by faster. What about you?”

                                          Eve pulled the thin strip that bound her hair in its ponytail, pulling it free. She peered out at him with a feline impishness from under a curtain of bangs, “I was counting the hours…” she replied dryly. And then he was approaching her, wrapping his grubby fingers around her thin waist and burying his lips in the hollow of her neck and shoulder. Eve rolled her eyes at his frantic caress, placing her hands at his wrists and forcing them away from her. He looked down at her, confused. “Where’s the stuff?" She asked him, expectantly, “You know I go no further until I know you’ve brought protection.”

                                          “s**t.” he swore, bringing hands up to his forehead, “I forgot bring the condoms…”

                                          “No problem.” Eve stepped away from him, sitting on the edge of the bed. The skirt of her uniform rose as she crossed her legs, and she stared coyly up at him, “I’ll wait here. Go to the convenience store and pick some up.” A few minutes alone would be good for her. The numbing effect of the alcohol was wearing off, and she’d brought a refill in her night bag. But the client was shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh.

                                          “I didn’t bring any small bills,” he said, “My wife checks my credit card, and I can’t have anything showng up on the report.” He cast her a sidelong glance…” We both know I'm clean, and I've been with you enough times to know your safe. Can’t we just skip the condom part tonight? You can use the money I give you to buy the pill in the morning.”

                                          “Nope.” Eve said at once, getting up from the bed and gathering her things, “No glove no love. That’s been the deal since day one. “ She tucked her hair back in its ponytail. She would have to walk to the apartment tonight since she wouldn’t be getting paid. Wasn’t that long of a walk though, just a couple of blocks, but New York City was a dangerous place at night. “Bring some condoms next time, ok, then we’ll play.”

                                          “But I’ve been thinking about it all morning. You’ve got to give me something…” He grabbed her arm a little too roughly for her liking, pulling her back to the bed. Eve struggled against his grip, but his fingers were locked just above her elbow, tight enough to bruise, “You can’t just leave me dry. I shell out big bucks for you.” Some perverse part in her mind laughed at the fact that he mirrored the thought she’d had not five minutes ago. The other part was ringing with alarm. She protested weakly as he tossed her on the bed, “You owe me something…"

                                          “I don’t owe you anything!” Eve argued, voice colored with rage and a hint of panic, “Get off me!” But he wasn’t listening. Eve had seen men when they were like this,… lesser senses like hearing were drowned out by sight and touch at this level of lust. He was on top of her now, running hands up the length of her thigh, gripping the band of her underwear. Fear was settling in on Eve’s chest. He intended to rape her. Words failed her as smashed his lips into hers, and she screamed against it hoping someone would come, someone would hear… but this was New York City. Screams were a dime a dozen here. She pushed against his chest, but he was two heavy, cowing her by at least sixty pounds. This wasn’t happening… she was not letting this happen. Suddenly she bit down, hard on his lip, and he cried out pulling back. Eve used the space between them to jam her knee into his groin.

                                          “Ugh.” he rolled off of her, and she slid off the bed, tossing her bag over her shoulder. Fumbling with the door handle, Eve pulled the door practically off the hinges, running out into the hallway, “Don’t bother coming back to the restaurant!” She hollered over her shoulder as she stormed out of the hotel lobby and onto the streets. Her steps were quick as she ascended the street, tossing quick looks over her shoulder to be sure he wasn’t following. When the coast was clear, she turned in the direction of her apartment, shivering not only out of cold, but nerves. Now that the anger was dying down, the fear was settling in… but she bit the tears back. She wouldn’t cry now… not when people could see her.

                                          Two months… Two months she’d been doing this, and never had it escalated as far as it had tonight. The more clients she got, and the more money she was getting, the more dangerous it became. But getting out was harder than Eve could ever imagine. Where else would she get the money to fund her way out of here? It was impossible on her waitress’s salary. Tonight was scary, but it was in no way enough to keep her from continuing the call girl service. So she’d lost her highest paying client… there were others. Eve tried futilely to lift the heavy weight of sadness from her chest, but that coupled with the amplifying effect of the alcohol proved too strong for her to resist. She didn't know how, but eventually, she’d ended up outside her apartment building. She fished for the keys in her pocket as she ascended four flights of stairs. She swore loudly as she tripped on the last stair, bumping her knee into the banister. Bruised arm, bruised lips, bruised knee… she was starting a collection. She smiled wryly at the thought, shoving her key in the door and pushing it open. Her apartment was dark, but she didn’t bother to turn the light on. Seeing how dull and damp it was would only make her more depressed. She slung her bag onto the floor by the door before stumbling to her room. She felt around for her bed, and when she found it, she collapsed upon it, burying her head in the thin pillows… it was then, and only then, that Eve allowed herself to cry.









xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• something a l w a y s .. brings me back to you
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• It never takes too l o n g
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[ oh oh see: Whew... I think that was the most I've ever written in a post ever! ]

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______________________________________________J a m e s █ S p a r r o w
______________________________________________theres a drumming noise inside my head and it starts when you’re around


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                What was the definition of struggling these days? It seemed like everyone and their uncle was struggling with something. Whether it’s the parents of the starving children in Africa to the man opening the impossibly tight jam lid; everyone struggles. However no one seems to have abused the meaning of that word more than the youths of today. Kids these days seemed to be hassled by everything from the extremities of suicidal thoughts to which report to tackle first and although James Sparrow was just out of his youthful teenage days he truly understood the meaning of it. He had left his cushy lifestyle in New Zeland to move into the concrete jungle called New York City. He wanted to make it on his own and the career he wanted he couldn’t create back home. So everyday he struggled, he struggled to put food on the table, he struggled to pay his bills and most importantly to him he struggled to write his music. James was a musician, an infamous one that is but a musician none the less. Compared to other starving artists in this day and age he didn’t work at starbucks or wait tables. Instead he made his money by playing his music in little clubs that would hire him out and he also played classical music for the elderly on a Friday afternoon. The way he looked at it was he was lucky to even get these gigs and he was grateful for the money they gave him-all be it crap at times. At the end of the day he kept thinking it was short term till he finally hit it big time. While he was waiting he spent most of his money on updating his recording equipment as much as possible and travel between gigs as he didn’t own a car. He did have a bike but it got stolen by some hoodlums who probably sold it for much less than it was worth. Sadly he was use to this by now the whole of New York was; theft was now the norm you never read about it in the papers.

                The only time the newspapers were worth reading were during the evening when they had a little entertainment section because they had nothing else better to write about. James often pictured him in that section, with five stars for his album. Unfortunately today he was using that paper as shelter from the rain and this week’s up and coming entertainment star was washing away. It was really storming outside, the pellets of water cascaded down his face leaving dark black marks because of the ink. When he finally reached his apartment he stumbled around in his pockets for his keys, throwing the paper into the over following trash can. This building wasn’t beautiful or was it even average, on a scale from one to ten it would be falling down to the minuses. The front door to the apartment use to be a dark green colour but it was overcome with dirt and mud, the paint had also chipped. Sighing softly to himself he found his key in his black military style jacket pocket. Opening the door he let himself inside not that inside looked much like an inside should. It was damp, dark and cold very much like outside only with walls. He climbed the four flights of stairs, he could hear someone else climbing at the same time as him, just a few floors ahead? He didn’t dwell on the fact until he reached the fourth floor. He saw the door next to his slam shut, his next-door neighbour had just returned home. James wondered who she had brought home tonight as he pushed his key into the lock. This meant he couldn’t play his music as loudly as he wished tonight. He was the most considerate person you would ever meet and whenever she had someone over he spent most of his time sitting at his computer or with his headphones in. He owned nothing to this woman, he didn’t even know her. They had exchanged a head nod once or twice as they walked by each other. That was it, he had never seen her outside of this building and she had never seen him. They were just two people who happened to share the same wall.

                Closing the door behind him he hung his coat up on the hanger on the door. Flicking the light on didn’t do much he didn’t have the money to buy a new bulb and it had been out for weeks. If his dad could see him standing in this damp room now he would be ashamed. The floorboards creaked as he made his way further inside. His living room was his bedroom and he had two separate doors, one led to the bathroom and the other to the kitchen. The only feature he liked about his apartment was the large window just across from his bed. When it was sunny he loved to look outside and people watch. He used that as his inspiration for songs, the lives of others truly fascinated him. He had a double bed which was unmade pushed up against the far wall-the wall they shared. His computer desk was in the corner along with his recording equipment and camera. He had spent over two years saving up for all of this and it was already scarily out of date. It would do for now, hopefully he could get a few more gigs to afford a better computer. He had mainly bought it all for image, being a musician was all about having the right look. If he looked good people would hire him, not that his appearance was much to be desired at the moment. He was in the bathroom now, looking at himself in the dirty mirror. He had a heavy set thick beard now and his hair was matted and messy. Maybe he would appeal to some women, after all some liked the rugged “I don’t care about myself” look. He would like to trim himself down but he was too focused on other things at the moment.
                All thoughts about his music disappeared as he entered his bedroom space. Even from the bathroom he could hear her, the walls were too thin, almost like paper. Her sniffling, her cries, he could almost picture her weak lifeless form huddled up in a ball on the bed. She was on the bed...she was too close not to be. He crossed the room quickly stepping on the bed and kneeling on his pillows. The cries were louder now; he wondered what was wrong with her. Maybe she had hurt herself, was she in pain? It was really none of his place. He gently slunk off the bed, trying not to make too much noise just encase she was trying to get off to sleep.

                It was around forty minutes later before he decided to do something. He had moved from his bed to his window to his kitchen to his bathroom and she hadn’t stopped crying. He knew he couldn’t go next door, that would be ridiculous he was a stranger. He was now lying on his bed, covering his eyes with his hands. This was none of his concern, he had been thinking since she started. Another fact about James was that he couldn’t stand to see people hurt, strangers or people he knew. Removing his hands from his eyes he caught sight of his keyboard over by the window. Immediately the idea struck him and he got to his feet gliding over to his instrument. He scanned around the walls for something to play, his walls weren’t covered with posters but from head to toe he had his lyrics all over it. Written out on paper and stuck to the wall, there wasn’t an inch of paint on display. He couldn’t find anything he wanted and he could hear her getting a little heavier. Okay James okay...think...think...

                “S-Stop your crying it will be a-alright...just take my hand hold it tight” he didn’t know what he was thinking but this was the only song he could think of to sooth her. It related back to his childhood, this was the song he grew up listening to his mother always sung it to him at bedtime. His fingers gently slid across the keyboard effortlessly, he had the perfect piano players hands. “I will protect you from all around you...I will be here don’t you cry” his voice was thick with his New Zeeland accent but it was husky and rough, beautiful almost. He couldn’t continue with the rest of the lyrics though as he thought about it, they weren’t appropriate. So instead he just continued to play the on the keyboard, holding the tune of Phil Colins you’ll be in my heart for a few more beats before changing to his own music. Something more of a lullaby, if this sent her off to sleep or at least stopped her crying he’d be able to sleep tonight. He wasn’t sure what had happened to her tonight or why she was sobbing like this but maybe, just maybe for the few moments he played this tune she could drift off and forget the pain or the sorrow, the emotion or whatever. But even James didn’t realise as he played this song for her that his hands and drifted off into notes he had never played before and he began to write a song dedicated to the sadness between the walls.

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Evelyn • M a r i e • Madison
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                                          Eve's buried her face into her pillow, the smell of her strawberry shampoo mingling with the scent of her tears. She clenched the sheets of her small twin size bed, the black of her fingernails contrasting with the white of the linens. The roof was leaking again, the rain outside refusing stay outside... the bucket next to the suitcase she lived out of collected the stray drops, the steady 'kerplunk....kerplunk' adding a sullen rhythm to her sobs. She had to get a hold of herself. She wasn't a child anymore, and crying in bed would result in nothing more than puffy red eyes in the morning, which would only fuel the rumors at work among the other waitresses that she was a drug addict. Yet even as she thought these things the tears kept coming as steady as the rain fell on her window. The events of tonight left her incredibly shaken. She tried to close her eyes against the memories, willing the tears to go away...but suddenly Eve was drowning in the depression at not only her client's inability to control himself, but her entire situation.

                                          Spending her days in a cramped cafe, her nights in strange hotel rooms with strange men for money... these were not the things she pictured for herself when she planned out her life. Eve had longed for the sunny streets of California. She wanted the edgy apartment on the shores of the beach. She wanted to grace the cover of magazines, billboards, commercials... she wanted to be discovered. It was her dream, ever since she was a young girl to model. She'd always known she was beautiful, used that beauty to her advantage more times than none. Hadn't she charmed her way into this apartment building with free rent for the first three months after only two days of being in Manhattan. Now, eight months had passed, and Eve was still here in the apartment she hadn't planned to stay in for more than a couple weeks, sleeping with men to fund her trip to California. She'd wanted so much for herself, and yet here she was, curled up in a ball on top of stale sheets, bruised and crying. When had her life made this turn? The tears came harder, and Eve found she was losing her grip on herself. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, but the sound of the rain and her own frantic sobs...

                                          Except...except there was something else. It was soft, uncertain at first, and for a moment Eve couldn't hear it over her cries. But as the seconds passed, the sound grew stronger, and Eve could identify it as a voice. Eve's abruptly quieted, listening to the soft found flow though the paper thin wall separating her from the room next door. Someone...someone was singing, and Eve could hear the words as clearly as though the singer were in the room with her. He was singing to her... soon she could hear the voice being accompanied by the piano. Eve's eyes widened as she began to recognize the melody. Phil Collins... She'd been such a fan of his when she was smaller. He sang such loving songs, filled with passion and honesty and they always cheered her up. How had this person known exactly what to sing? Eve sat up from her bed, placing her back against the wall, feeling the soft vibrations of his voice against her skin as he sang.

                                          Eve didn't know much about the man who lived next door. She tended to avoid relationships with other people, aware of how people judge. The boy next door simply remained that, the boy next door. She'd never thought to reach out to him, not really. But for him to hear her sobs, and reach out to her so bravely... it was endearing. Eve pulled her legs up into her arms, placing her chin on her knees, listening to him play. Pretty soon, he'd lost the words, and that was a shame because his voice was beautiful. But the melody began to change, a hauntingly sad one. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the music, loving the complicated notes and beats. She was so moved that he cared enough to play her anything. Kindness like that wasn't something that Eve encountered often. She could barely even remember what he looked like, and yet here he was showing her sympathy. It was sweet.

                                          She listened quietly as he played into the night, resting her head against the peeling wallpaper. She realized suddenly that he might not even know that she heard him playing... She should say something... but what they hell was she supposed to say? 'Sorry for crying so loudly you had to sing to drown me out. Won't happen again!' She pressed her hand to her forehead. She had to say something, at least to let him know she was listening. She pressed her hand to the wall, bringing her face closer to be sure she was heard. "Hey, piano boy..." she said softly over the melody he was playing, her voice a little husky from the tears, "Thanks for the lullaby. You serenade crying girls through their walls often?" There. She'd successfully conveyed gratitude without seeming mushy, maintaining her usual level of coolness. She wondered briefly if she was as big of a mystery to him as he was to her... how odd that the only sentence she said to him was whispered through the thin barrier of her bedroom wall. She wished she knew more about him...but this was a start she supposed.

                                          "Really, though..." Eve heard herself saying, "Sorry about crying... I know it's probably not the worst thing you've heard me doing... but it was nice of you to sing." She cut off sharply, embarrassed by what she was saying. Not only was toeing the mushy line, but she commented on her inability to have sex quietly! He probably didn't want to think about that, and she was pretty much ruining the mood. Her hair fell in a blonde curtain around her face as she tossed her hands up in agitation at her inability to keep her mouth closed. Eve decided to simply stop talking, resting her head against the wall. "Anyway, thanks," she ended pathetically, wondering if he would laugh at her. She would be laughing if the tables were turned. Maybe he wouldn't even respond. Maybe he really was only playing to drown out her crying so he could go to sleep. It was kind of late and all...






xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• something a l w a y s .. brings me back to you
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• It never takes too l o n g
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______________________________________________J a m e s █ S p a r r o w
______________________________________________theres a drumming noise inside my head and it starts when you’re around


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                Getting lost in his own music was sort of a regular thing for James. Whenever he played whether it was by himself or to an audience he was always caught up in the melody. He knew that even if he were to play in front of a crowd of thousands he’d see it as just him and his instrument. However any hope of playing in front of thousands was a far off dream in the future, the most he had ever played to was twenty people. Not that he was complaining, any audience was better than no audience at all even if it was a bunch of old coffin dodgers down in the elderly home. But tonight was different he wasn’t playing for himself nor a group but to an individual. Someone who had never seen his face-not properly-someone who didn’t know who he was, she was a stranger. She had never heard him play music before so she had a pair of virgin ears even if that was the only virgin part about her.

                His fingers just glided around the keys so effortlessly and the sound that came out was so pure yet filled with sorrow. He was drawing on her sadness, feeding on it as if it was his own life source...as if it was his own pain. Every tear she shed, every sob that came from her he retaliated with a note. Each movement of her body he heard behind the wall transferred into the melody and it was so beautiful. This piece of music didn’t need words in order to convey the emotion that was behind it, all it needed was to be listened to and to be enjoyed. However all that was lost when she started speaking. His fingers hit a series of bum notes when she commented on him serenading her through the wall and he stopped. As quick as that everything he had just played had been forgotten, he couldn’t remember how he hit the notes or where they came from. The melody was snatched away by the sound of her voice. She called him piano boy, she didn’t know his name, he was playing piano it fitted well. But he didn’t know her name either, she could be anyone. Janice maybe? Or an Estelle? These were all too old, perhaps an Amy or a Courtney. Then again possibly she could have something rather exotic like Naria that was exotic right? He began to dwell too much on her name and she had already carried on speaking before he could respond to her serenading comment.

                This was just getting better and better, he couldn’t believe she actually commented on what she did behind this paper wall. He even felt a flush of embarrassment rise through his cheeks before she quieted down with a thank you. She certainty made quite a bit of noise during the night and on occasions during the day. He spent a lot of his spare time in his apartment perfecting his music and updating his websites. James wasn’t a betting man but if it were possible he would put all the money he had in the bank to wager that he had been in the apartment nine times out of ten when she was ******** the latest between the sheets. He knew for a fact she wasn’t sleeping with the same man over and over again. He was starting to get use to the variety of different voices he heard through the barrier. Not that there was anything wrong with her escapades at least she was getting some. After all he hadn’t had sex in sixteen months two weeks and five days, not that he was counting. The only person that ever offered him anything with Miss Witterberry from the old folks home, when she took her false teeth out she could fit a whole apple in there, he shuddered at the thought. James was going through a ridiculous dry spell and to be honest he tried not to dwell on it much he was kind of getting use to being responsible for his own orgasm. However when he thought about it maybe she was responsible for her own as well. Even though her partner’s groans changed from each visit hers stayed the same, dry with forced interest.

                His mind had filtered off into other things now he was the one leaving her in silence. Snapping back into reality he got up from his keyboard and the floorboards creaked once again, the same noise carried on as he got to his bed and even again when he sat down. His back against the wall and he mirroring hers without even realising. “I do actually, today I’m playing to you but last week Mrs Petifer loved my music so much she even tried to crack a hole in my ceiling to get a better listen...or maybe she was trying to get me to shut up...” he knew the answer but with his jokey tone he was trying to get her to laugh. After all he had left her with at least a ten minute silence since the melody stopped. He was sitting comfortably on his pillows, his head pressed back against the wall, leaning against his pages of lyrics. “You know if I had more than two hands I could have had a whole Orchestral performance for you in here” his lips twisted into his smile. Every person smiled differently and his was a little awkward, one side of his mouth lifted up into more of a twisted grin than a smile. “A bit of violin, bit of keys, dash of drums, couple of riffs on the guitar...or I could have played you a cd and you would have never noticed the different” he found himself hilarious, which was something his old friends always picked on him for. He laughed at his own jokes even if no one else found them funny even now he let out a bellowed chortle and was grinning to himself. His voice carried on this light-hearted tone as he moved onto what she had said about her habits. “And uh...don’t worry about it...” he couldn’t think of anything witty to say this time as he didn’t want to embarrass her. “I’ve started putting my headphones in when I come into the apartment, these walls” he knocked on his side lightly “don’t give much privacy so I try to give you as much as possible” his twisted grin shrunk to a small smirk “I’d expect you’d do the same for me if the shoe was on the other foot.”
                Or she might have got some pleasure out of listening to him with some other girl. You just didn’t know these days; people had some weird turn ons.

                There was only a second of silence before James swung his legs off his bed and the floorboards groaned in pain again. He was back on the bed soon enough as he picked up his guitar from the corner of the room. It was an old Les Paul acoustic, they didn’t even make this model anymore and he kept it in superior condition. He leant back up against the wall “Hey bright eyes” she wouldn’t get the reference nor the nickname he just gave her. When a person cries their eyes get brighter due to the moisture engulfing them, hence the name. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to play you something...I feel after I’ve cried...not that I cry you know because I’m so big and strong GRR” he was such a playful character and didn’t take himself seriously, he found that the best way to live. “But music always sooths me to sleep...” he strummed his fingers gently down all six of the strings and then stopped. “So maybe I could help you get some sleep, it’s about three in the morning but some sleep is better than none at all...besides I haven’t picked up the guitar in a good four hours I need some practice” he teased, letting his laugh echo to the empty audience before carrying on. “Now I don’t know what you like...I mean our music tastes could be totally different, maybe a bit of Shakira tickles your fancy?”
                He began to play a few bars from the Latin inspired singers hit song “wherever, whenever.”
                “Na, maybe you’re more of a heavy metal fan”
                His fingers twisted around the cords for Metallicas “Puppet Master.”
                “This isn’t very soothing is it?” he asked her as his digits slammed down heavily on his guitar. “You can’t go wrong with a little Beyonce?”
                He played a little bit of halo, his tone softening now.
                “Some Leona Lewis?”
                It’ll all get better in time cascaded around the room.
                “Some jazz inspired...Jamie Cullen” his voice had lowered now from his energetic excited one to something more dark and husky. This was one of his best traits, his past girlfriends and even friends always commented on what a “sexy” voice he had. His bestfriend had even once said if he was working in the phone sex industry he’d make a killing. “A bit of my own” he had the most soothing pitch to his voice as his fingers plucked away at the notes twisting these hit records into his own music. Yet all the songs, all be it different from one and other swirled into the perfect melody. Now he was playing her his own tracks, for what felt like hours and it well could have been as he was playing into the night. He wasn’t sure what time she fell asleep but this night was the start of something unexpected and new. He had made his first contact with the girl next door and this wouldn’t be the last.

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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• Set me f r e e, .. leave me b e
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• I don't wanna fall another moment
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• into your g r a v i t y
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Evelyn • M a r i e • Madison
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                                          Eve rested her head against the wall of her bed room, wrapping herself in the music as securely as she wrapped herself in the cloth of her bedsheets. He hadn't answered her questions right away, making Eve think that her earlier assumption that he played simply to drown her out seem more likely. For some reason, that made Eve feel a little lonely. She'd thought for a moment that in her state of sadness someone cared enough to reach out to her, felt her pain and sought to ease it. To know that she was mistaken, saddened her a little bit. But the music, at least, was speaking to her if he wouldn't. Eve held on to the music, letting it comfort her if he could not. After all, wasn't music a universal language, a method to say the things one couldn't find the words to say out loud? He may not have meant to, but Eve could hear empathy in his music, and it comforted her. She could feel sleep, as elusive as it was only moments ago, creeping into the corners of her mind, numbing the events of tonight.

                                          And then the music stopped suddenly. Eve jerked, pushing away from the wall as though it suddenly became hot. A part of her wanted to object, wanted to plead for him to keep playing. The music was reaching her in a way nothing had... Maybe he stopped playing because she'd stopped crying. Eve contemplated wailing loudly to prompt him to play again, but pride kept her from doing so. An emptiness was growing where the music had filled, and Eve pulled her legs into her chest in a futile attempt to keep the emptiness from growing. She shouldn't have said anything to him... she should have let him go on playing until she'd fallen asleep. Now Eve feared she would be unable to go to sleep. She slid her head back, staring up at the ceiling. She hated staying in this apartment alone... she avoided it anyway she could. Most times it only meant picking up a guy at the cafe and taking him home. Eve could forget herself in someone else, lose herself in the men she brought to this small apartment room. Alone, she would have to face herself. Eve didn't want to face herself. She buried her face into her knees, fighting once again the feeling of depression.

                                          But then a voice traveled through the wall of her room, and Eve's head popped up, her heart stilling. So he was playing for her. The relief at the thought made her laugh a little harshly under her breath. Eve was starting to lose it... this was so unhealthy, depending on piano boy to battle the loneliness she was warring with. It was the night time... emotions were always amplified in the night, and the moon was shining brightly, even through the rainfall, shining a light on all her insecurities. In the morning, Eve would laugh about her behavior, she was sure. She leaned against the wall, drawing comfort from the voice on the other side.

                                          She laughed a little at his reference to Mrs. Petifer. Eve had a feeling it was more of the second reason she'd been banging on the floor. She wasn't a very tolerant person. Hadn't that woman squinted her eyes and shook her head at the outfits she'd seen Eve walk out of the apartment in, or the men she brought up to her room? "The ever tolerant Mrs. Petifer..." she quipped with a small smile. "She wouldn't know good music if it bit her in her orthopedic a**." She listened as he continued, hearing him list the number of instruments he could play. So Piano Boy was actually 'Every Instrument Under the Sun' Boy...Eve was impressed. She hadn't known that about him...then again there wasn't much she knew about him. After tonight, she was quite determined to know a bit more. She loved the sound of his voice. She used it to try to imagine what the face on the other side was like. Eve imagined him to be tall, with a sort of messy edge that most musicians seemed to have. There was a deep accent in his voice, and it was more than a little sexy. She blushed a little when he remarked about giving her her privacy, and that he expected she would do the same. Eve would, if he was ever in that situation... but it didn't seem he was. In fact, in the months Eve had lived in this apartment, Eve had never heard of him having company of the 'female type'... maybe it was only when she wasn't home. She imagined it would be difficult to have company with her making so much noise on her side. She'd have to try to be a bit quieter from now on.

                                          She was deep in her thoughts that she didn't hear the floor boards creak as he moved. His voice brought her back, and her smile widened at her nickname. Bright eyes. She liked that... it made her seem like someone with hope, with something to smile about, something to look froward to.

                                          "Big and strong..." she repeated softly, with a small smile..."I wish I were big and strong. Then I wouldn't even be in this mess." she cut off, realizing he wouldn't know what she was talking about, and she'd rather not explain. She just wanted to listen to the music, to hear him play again. When he ran his fingers across the strings, creating music from a guitar this time, it seemed as though her heart cried out to it... What was this power he had, to influence her, to call reactions forth from the most central of her being? Eve settled into her bed, wincing as it creaked slightly under her weight. Her golden hair spread out in a fan on the pillow, and she pulled the sheets up to her neck, listening to him play.

                                          She smiled as he began to play Shakira. She wasn't someone Eve listened to often, but she recognized the tune. "Not bad..." she said with a chuckle, "But not really my taste." She winced as he began the Heavy Metal, "Waaayyy off!" she told him, even knocking on the wall a bit with her protest. She wasn't really a fan of Beyonce either, but hearing it played on his guitar made it sound rather beautiful. Same with Leona Lewis. He was growing closer with the Jazz inspired piece. But when he began playing something unfamiliar, something more complicated and beautiful... He played with the perfection of a CD. He wasn't kidding when he said he could play an Orchestra and Eve wouldn't know the difference. He was so talented... Eve wondered briefly why someone as talented as he would stay in a place a run down as this. But then sleep was calling to her, and she was unable to fight it off.

                                          "Hey, Piano boy..." she said so softly, she wasn't certain he'd hear her. She was drifting deeper and deeper into sleep, and the grog of slumber was addling her words. "I think your music... is the closest I've ever been to heaven." and then she was gone, the shadows of tonight's events battered away by the peace he'd provided her with. She dreamt of nothing that night... all she heard was the flow of his melody, and the 'kerplunk' of the raindrops leaking in the bucket of her shitty apartment.







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______________________________________________J a m e s █ S p a r r o w
______________________________________________theres a drumming noise inside my head and it starts when you’re around


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                I think your music...is the closest I’ve ever been to heaven
                What an amazing compliment to be the last thing he remembered before falling asleep. No one had ever said that about his music before and he couldn’t describe how much he cherished those words. He wasn’t famous, not on this side of the planet and on the other he was only barely known amongst people that would probably never get to meet him. So the fact that a complete stranger had made such a wondrous remark about his music made him rather emotional. However he didn’t answer her, he could tell she was drifting off into sleep. Instead he just played for her, playing deep into the night till he couldn’t keep his eyes awake or his cords coherent. Not only was the reality of tonight different from the rest but for the first time in months he began to dream. About music, cords, melodies and lyrics. Most musicians said they were inspired by what they had seen in their dreams. He was creating the most beautiful piece of music in his head but by the time the sun rose and his eyes opened he had forgotten it even existed.

                The light pierced through the frail glass, casting its rude awakening on every inch of the room it could reach. The beams tickled over James’s body, shining over his eyes causing him to turn around trying to shield himself from this. However when he tried to escape he only banged his head against his guitar giving him a sharp start. “Ouch” he exclaimed pressing his palm against his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut as he shut out the pain. He wondered for only a moment why his guitar was sleeping with him only for it all to come back to him. The girl behind the wall, the melody, the songs, her tears...
                It came back as clear as if the night were day. Quickly he shot up kneeling on his pillows and pressed his hands against the wall. It wasn’t just a dream he had made up in his head, how else could his sleeping partner be explained? He couldn’t hear her breathing, or hear voices or any sounds. She was probably out, no sense on knocking on the wall. Maybe she would reflect on the night before and realise how crazy it had been. Talking to a stranger through a wall, allowing him to send you to sleep. It wasn’t something that happened everyday and certainty unexpected. Regardless it was morning time now which meant he had to push all thoughts of last night to the back of his mind and get on with the day.

                It didn’t take him long to get ready, he had a routine even if it was a short one. He would get up go for a shower, neglect the mirror, dry himself, get dressed, neglect the mirror, have a bowl of cereal (whatever kind was on sale that week), neglect his reflection, make himself a cup of tea and then sit in front of the computer. It was boring and mundane, but right now the most important thing to him was getting his music out there and there was no better way to do it than the internet. He had dressed himself in a blue checkered shirt which was missing a button or two at the top, revelling more of his chest than he should have been, if it fit a woman it would be the perfect mans gawking shirt. His dark jeans weren’t too baggy nor too tight and his black cardigan fit his body snugly. Sometimes if he let himself think about it he missed caring about his appearance, but music was more important. He hadn’t written a song in over three months now, he couldn’t think of anything worth putting down. He seemed to have lost his spark, well until last night. Remembering back to the conversation with the wall he had played such a beautiful melody not only on piano but on guitar as well. Yet he just couldn’t remember any of it, the tune was lost in his mind and he didn’t have the tools to unearth it.

                For now he’d have to focus on more pressing matters; updating his sites. Being an artist he wanted to get out there on every social networking group possible. He had a myspace, a facebook, a twitter, a dailyblog, a tumblr, a flickr, a youtube and a last.fm. He managed them all on a regular basis, checking to see how many hits his songs had and how many friend requests he’d racked up. Unfortunately for him all his friend requests and hits were from people in Britain or other parts of the US. He just couldn’t seem to reach it in New York, there had to be something he was doing wrong. “Aw come on” suddenly James slammed his hands down on the keyboard of his shitty laptop. He was always having this problem because he couldn’t afford the internet he stole it from Mrs Pettifer upstairs. She was the only person in the building that had a wireless router after she had been the subject to a telemarket sale. But because she was further away from him he could only get a low connection which resulted in the internet cutting off from time to time. Leaning back on his chair as he tried to find the server he let his mind drift back to last night. There was just something about it, something about her that he couldn’t let go. He kept glancing over at the wall and then at the clock, it was only mid morning and he knew she wouldn’t be back for a while. Subconsciously he had been listening out for her footsteps but she had probably left before him. Plus who was he kidding she wouldn’t be back tonight and he just had to get her off his mind. But he was like a dog chasing a bone on a stick, she was out of reach and he couldn’t get her. James wasn’t sure what he wanted persay, he wasn’t in love with her and he didn’t know what she looked like to have a crush on her. But he was intrigued, amazed that she could make him play music that he had never heard before. He was curious as to why, was it because of the wall? Was it really her? He couldn’t be sure but he was desperate for the answer. So much so he didn’t realise he had spent over an hour dwelling on the fact, in the same position and staring at the same spot.

                “Ach” he swiftly got to his feet without a second glance at the computer and grabbed his coat from the back of the door. He couldn’t sit in his apartment all day long and wait for her so he could play his melodies again and get his answers. He had to occupy himself with something, but he had no gigs planned and he wasn’t playing at the Nursing Home until tomorrow. He didn’t have the money to go to the cinema or even the will to go window shopping. But what he did have was a grumbling stomach. All he had had for the past few days was cereal and it wasn’t very filling. He longed for a proper meal but his rent was due this month and he had to keep every cent he had in order to keep his apartment. But with nothing in the house how was he suppose to cure his hunger?
                He buried his hands into his jacket pockets the morning suns shadowing lies hung over New York as the bitter cold nipped at his nose. He blended in perfectly with the rush hour crowd, everyone and their assistant was out on the streets searching for somewhere to eat. Sadly James hadn’t a clue where he was going but with every step he could feel the sickening in his throat, desperate for some food. Between the hunger pains and curiosity James’s mind was running wild. He couldn’t silence the thoughts, so much so that he’d lost all track of where he was going resulting in him smashing slap bang into a pole. “Oh for ******** sake” he swore loudly his hands firing up to his forehead, pressing back the tears his eyes were ready to water rapidly. That was twice he had hit his head today and twice that no one cared. Firstly no one had been around when he had smacked himself in the morning and secondly the citizens of New York just walked right by him. That’s the one thing he hated about this place it was cold, all round.

                Once he had gotten focus back in his eyes they snapped onto the pole he had cracked into. He was standing right in front of a reasonably priced restaurant. He took in his environment, it wasn’t a posh establishment but it wasn’t a run down one either. It was average and his stomach deemed it perfect for him. Almost as if he was being dragged by the gut he walked towards the front entrance. Pushing open the door he was welcomed by the smell of coffee and a slight tinge of grease. He felt a little awkward as he stood by the door, waiting to be seated, in fact he wasn’t even sure if that was how this place was run?
                “Um...excuse me...” he held out his hand as a girl walked by but she just ignored him. She was mumbling to herself, her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. “Hey...miss” he spoke a little louder this time as another waitress walked by. “Hm should I use my invisibility powers to fight crime, or evil?” he contemplated out loud, rubbing his bearded chin. The service in here was terrible, no one seemed to care he was here to offer them business, even if he was only going to spend around ten dollars. However James wasn’t the kind of person to give up easily on things and just like he would put his mind to rest with this girl he was also determined to get served.

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Evelyn • M a r i e • Madison
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                                          Cruel rays of morning sun peaked through the grimy glass of her windows, shining a light on the gritty apartment, beating on the lids of her eyes. Eve groaned, fighting to hold on to the last remnants of sleep, reluctant to face whoever was in bed beside her. But there was something different about this morning... no heavy arm weighing her down where she slept, no twisting tangle of legs beneath the sheets. No one was sharing her bed...Eve had gone to bed alone last night. Her eyes opened slowly, still heavy with sleep, struggling to focus her gaze. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so soundly... Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the last nights events. The client had gotten violent with her, so she'd returned to her apartment for the night. The shock of almost being raped had jarred her to the point of tears, and then... Eve sat up in her bed, her gaze at once turning to the wall. Was he... was he still there? The sun was high enough in the sky to still be early in the morning... maybe he was still sleeping. Or maybe he'd left before she woke up... Eve was too deep in her own sleep to hear any movement on his side. He was the cause of that. He'd played her to sleep last night, a stranger... The gratitude Eve felt was almost overwhelming.

                                          A soft buzzing sound pulled Eve from her thoughts. The blonde stood shakily from her bed, the beginnings of a hangover causing her vision to blur. She'd forgotten how much she drank last night... that paired with only a couple hours of sleep was giving Eve a huge headache. Eve crossed the length of her small bed room to the pile of clothes strewn out on the floor. She dropped to her knees roughly, running her hands through the pile of t shirts and skirts before unearthing her little plastic cell from a pair of skinny jeans she wore last week. The phone vibrated in her hand, and Eve winced to read the name on the little light up screen... Karen. Eve groaned, almost throwing the phone back in the pile. Karen was her boss up at the restaurant, a short, plump, little spit fire who enjoyed barking orders almost as much as she liked stuffing her face. She'd only be calling for one reason. Eve was quite tempted to let the phone ring into silence... she was supposed to be off today, and Eve was not in the mood to fill in for someone who was skipping out on work. But then Eve remembered... she was short the rent this month. The two hundred she would have gotten last night would have covered it, but that flew out the window when the client got too grabby... she needed the extra hours. Sighing, Eve pushed the green talk button, placing the phone to her ear, "Yeah..."

                                          The voice on the other side was harsh and highly abrasive. Eve hardly listened, catching only a few key important words. Gabby was sick... needed a fill in... clock in in an hour.... paid for overtime... that was all Eve needed to hear. "I'll be right in," she said, running a hand through her hair. ********, she wasn't feeling up to it at all, but money was money, and she wasn't in the mood to lay on her back for this months rent either. She tossed her phone back into the pile of clothes before picking herself up, stretching her arms languidly above her. A cold shower would wake her up... not that she had much of a choice. Her water had stopped being hot weeks ago. Eve stepped into her bathroom, shedding her clothes on the way. The light was broken, flickering on and off randomly, and Eve could only catch flashes of her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her eyes were puffy, as expected, but not something a little more eye liner couldn't camouflage. Her lips were a little swollen too, but she didn't think anyone would notice that. It was the bruise on her arm that she was worried about, three dark finger prints circling just above her elbow. Eve didn't really have any means of hiding it... her uniform for work was a short sleeved shirt. If that didn't fuel gossip among the waitresses, Eve didn't know what would. Maybe a little concealer would lighten them up a little...

                                          Eve stepped into the shower, letting the cold water run over her. There wasn't much water pressure, and the chill was making the blonde shiver, but she washed her hair nonetheless, and ran a bar of soap over her body before twisting the shower knob off. She wrapped herself in a towel before walking back into her bedroom, to her suitcase. She pulled out a pair of acid wash fitted jeans, and the tan company polo style shirt for the restaurant. As she dressed her eyes kept returning to the wall she shared with piano boy. She couldn't hear much movement on his side. He was either gone, or keeping very still. Perhaps still sleeping? The time on her phone was showed that it was mid-morning... maybe he was a late sleeper. She brushed the thought away, returning to the bathroom to dry her hair and attempt to do something with her bruised arm and puffy eyes. It took her about forty minutes to get ready... She'd bound her hair in the standard messy bun, her bangs falling over her forehead to frame her angular blue eyes. Eve always took special notice of her appearance when going to work. Being hot didn't hurt tips did it? By the time she'd finished her headache was only a dull pain between her temples, and the dizziness had just about faded. She grabbed her bag from the door, as well as her navy coat. Tucking her cell phone in her pocket, Eve made her way through her scarcely furnished living room to the front door, stepping out into the hallway. It was almost a waste of time to lock her door. What was anyone going to steal? The cheap radio sitting on top of the cardboard box under her living room window? The broken toaster wasting away on the kitchen counter? A slice of bread from her otherwise empty refrigerator? Eve would laugh at any thief that would attempt to find something of value in her apartment. Nevertheless she twisted the key in the lock... there was the matter of her clothes. She couldn't let those get stolen...

                                          Before Eve descended the stairs, her gaze turned towards the door nearest to hers. She froze, her hand hovering inches over the banister. She wondered... was he home? Eve stepped away from the stairs, her footsteps silent as she traversed the hallway, coming to a stop before his door. She could thanks him... for what he did for her last night. It wouldn't really be weird, would it? She warred within herself, raising a hand to knock on his door... but once again her hand froze, just before making contact with the surface. No... she shouldn't do this. What if she saw him, and he wasn't what she expected? She'd created a picture of the man who lived in this room. What if she was disappointed? She didn't want to ruin the image she'd created of the man who comforted her last night. And what if she was a disappointment to him? Eve wasn't sure he'd ever truly seen her... what if she wasn't what he'd imagined either? Eve sighed, lowering her hand. Maybe she would be better off keeping the wall between them... keep the mystery just that... a mystery. She turned away from the door, and descended the steps a little faster than she normally did.

                                          The weather was cool, the brisk wind blowing wisps of hair around her face as she cut through the busy city sidewalk. She turned the collar of her coat against the wind, making her way uptown a couple of blocks before the restaurant was in sight. The Corner Spot was a quaint little bar/cafe, the place Eve began working when she first came here. The pay was horrible, and the company was worse, but the tips were good, and it gave her something to do. She stepped into the restaurant, making her way to the back immediately. The majority of the space in the center was taken up by metal tables, each topped with a menu, a little flower arrangement, and your standard salt/pepper/sugar combination. Against the far right wall was a line of leather booths, and in the back was the bar and kitchen. It was in this direction that Eve walked, slinging her coat on the employee rack. She hadn't been there for more than two minutes before Karen was breathing down her neck, "]On time for once, Evelyn?" she barked, "I'm shocked. I thought I was going to have to call you at least three more times before you finally showed up." she was filling up a customer's glass as she spoke, glinting up at her with those mousy brown eyes.

                                          Eve rolled her blue ones, "It's Eve, Karen, not Evelyn..." she snatched an apron from the same rack she'd hung her coat on, tying it around her ways, "One of these days I'm gonna get sick of you calling me that, and I'm gonna quit." Eve shot her a teasing smirk before grabbing her pad and getting to work. There were never very many customers in the restaurant at a time. Eve couldn't remember the last time it got busy. There were four other waitresses on duty, which meant Eve had a lot of hang time. After about an hour of working, the blonde was sitting at the bar in front of Karen, discussing a pay raise. Eve was in the middle of making a point when Karen's attention was averted to a man standing at the door. Eve hadn't bothered to turn around, so caught up in debate with Karen. "You can seat yourself, sir." Karen notified the man, as Eve prepared to continue arguing. Karen wouldn't hear it though, holding a hand up. "]You're wasting time, you aren't getting a raise. Now go take care of the customer. You could use the extra money..."

                                          Eve huffed, sliding off the bar stool... Karen was right. She did need the extra money. She pulled her pad from the apron pocked and approached the man who was seating himself. "Welcome to the Corner Spot," she said dryly, pulling a pen from her hair, "We don't have any specials, we don't have any kids menus, and we're out of tomatoes, so keep that in mind if you order a burger or something..." Her eyes raised to the man she was serving. He looked... he looked familiar. He was handsome, in a sexily rumpled malnourished kind of way, and a bit in need of a shave. She stared at him a little longer than what was polite, but then again when was Eve ever polite? She couldn't place it, but she was sure she's seen him before... "Can I... Can I get you something to drink?" she asked a little uncertainly. She was probably just imagining it... maybe he came by the restaurant more than a couple times, and that was why he struck a familiar chord.





xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• something a l w a y s .. brings me back to you
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• It never takes too l o n g
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______________________________________________J a m e s █ S p a r r o w
______________________________________________theres a drumming noise inside my head and it starts when you’re around


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                This was ridiculous, what kind of establishment kept a paying guest waiting at the door? A shitty one that’s what. Now maybe if he was as successful as he wanted to be the situation would be different. He would walk into the restaurant and all eyes would be on him, customers would whisper his name, sing his songs, take pictures and update their twitter. The waitresses would be at his call, offering him the kind of service a star would expect. The boss would ask him, kindly if he would play for them and he would accept always eager to please his fans. He would play a few intimate records in the small space, word would get out and more people would flock to the bar. He would have done a great service for the woman, giving her more business. “Oh thank you Mr Sparrow, we’re truly grateful that such a big successful star like yourself could grace my shitty little shithole restaurant”” she’d say.
                “Just doing my duty mam” he’d say.
                “Let me take a picture of your oh so handsome vizier and hang it on our wall” she’d request.
                “Oh I couldn’t” he’d protest.
                “Please” she would plead.
                “Okay” he would agree.

                “You can seat yourself sir”
                The disgruntled voice of a woman broke him from his little roleplay scenario in his head. He looked as if he had just been struck on the head with something heavy, then again that had happened twice today. He perked up a smile holding up his hand and waving at the back of her head, he called thanks to her in an over enthusiastic way grinning sarcastically. Who ate all the pies? He thought to himself as he walked by her. The tiny little seat she sat on disappeared under her fat overbearing arse. In fact he had to take his eyes off of her because the more he thought about it the more he wondered if the seat was actually up her a**. Swiftly he made his way to the nearest booth and sat down, grabbing a menu and positioning it so it shielded the woman out. He didn’t have a problem with overweight people of any kind but there was something about the way the woman spoke to him and the tone of her voice that didn’t sit right. She was also moaning to someone hidden behind her frame. Something about getting a raise or I’m stuck in a maze. He chuckled joyfully to himself; he really thought he was hilarious. But again he was faced with this situation, no one was serving him. He made a mental note to never come back here again even if the food was dirt cheap. However he did take a few moments to look around his environment, it was as average inside as it was outside. There was nothing special about it and he doubted anything could change his mind about that. It was rather quaint though; he could hear the mumbling musings of guests, the clang of cutlery in the kitchen and the idle natter of birds squawking away outside. He had spent so much time thinking that when a waitress finally came over to serve him he hadn’t even taken time to look at the menu.

                He heard her voice but didn’t register anything but her words, his eyes trying very hard to focus on the menu. If James hated one thing about himself it was the fact that he was long sighted. He couldn’t see anything close up and always had to wear glasses. The problem was he wouldn’t have minded it so much if he had had it since birth but he just developed it two years ago and was getting use to wearing specks. The worst part about all of it was for years he bragged to his vision impaired family that he had twenty twenty vision and now he was just like them. He didn’t answer the girl right away, he had to mull her words over again as he rummaged his pockets for his glasses. “Come on where are you little bugger” he mumbled under his breath before his fingers twisted around the desired object. “Ah there we go” he slipped his hand out revelling a pair of slightly thick rimmed dark red glasses. It was almost miraculous when he put them on and the words on the menu sprung to life before his lenses. With his sight in tact he turned his head to make contact with the waitress only to find himself struck again but this time the blow was mentally heavy. His eyes followed the curve of her body up from her legs, to her mid drift, to her chest, to her face. However although it felt like the world was spinning in slow motion it had really been only two seconds in real time. James wasn’t the kind of person to stop and stare at anyone, he didn’t like to let his eyes wander but this time he couldn’t stop himself. Even behind her unflattering clothes she had a figure any model would trade their twinky for, she had the most beautiful face, every inch looked as if it had been carved from marble however then someone had graffitied it with eyeliner. But perhaps the most striking part of all about her were those dazzling blue eyes. He had never seen such bright eyes. She was so familiar as if he had seen her before. After a few seconds pondering he came to the conclusion that he had probably seen her on the tv advertising something, or maybe she was exactly what he envisioned when he got around to masturbating.
                I should have shaved he thought to himself before meeting her blue eyes with his own sea coloured ones.

                A wide grin spread over his lips when she finished speaking and he dropped the menu, gesturing with one figure for her to bend down a little closer. “Not to pry but...if you’re looking for your missing tomatoes I’m pretty sure you have a plump one right there” he whispered to her pointing slyly to her boss who now conveniently had her a** in the air as she bent down to pick up her pen. Okay, that was either going to be a hit or a miss with this girl not that he was trying to impress her at all but he felt slightly nervous. His twisted sly smile was joyful as he looked down at the menu again flicking the pages and turning it over. “I’ll have um...” he looked back up at her again. “I don’t know what would you recommend? An unlimited coffee pot, we challenge you to drink the whole lot? Bleh...” he was talking a little to himself now, forgetting he had even asked the girl anything. His finger slid down the list as he looked for more drinks. “I’ll just have a latte” he probably should have gone to starbucks though he was expecting his coffee to come out in a giant container. “And um...I’m not really sure what’s good here so when you’ve got my coffee could you come back and help me pick? Or you know surprise me as long as it’s under five dollars and doesn’t look like it’s gonna crawl off my plate I’m good” his voice was chipper and cheerful, he was the kind of person who you could get real chat out of and wouldn’t have to spoon feed dry conversation. He flashed her his real smile before closing the menu and pushing it away from him. He truly wanted her help; she worked here so she should know what was best. “Oh and don’t worry I’m not allergic to anything, I won’t keel over on your floor mid way through lunch” he laughed at himself again, he should have looked into a career in comedy but not only would it be a one man show but a one man audience.

                Just as he was about to get up from his seat to adjourn from the bathroom he was stopped by another member of staff. “Excuse me sir, beg my pardon but are you Gerard Butler? You have that whole distinguished look going on”
                Aka, grade one flirting and a** kissing going on here.
                The girl who spoke to him was the brown haired woman who had walked by him earlier. She was significantly disappointing compared to her other counterpart and she had the most annoying accent he couldn’t quite pin point where she was from. But her attempts at flirting would get her nowhere with James, he liked to look but barely ever did he touch. “Thanks” he gave her a cheery laugh before getting to his feet.
                “Oh where are you going sir?”
                “To...the bathroom” he pointed to the sign diagonally across from him. He looked a little sceptical at her, she was a little creepy.
                “Toilets blocked sir you’ll have to use the ladies” her eyes were a little wild and then he had visions of her following him into the toilet and giving his privates no privacy.
                “IIIIIIIIIIIIII’ll hold it” he gave a sheepish grin and swiftly sat down his eyes staring directly away from her. Thankfully she was called over by her boss and she couldn’t bother him anymore. It seemed like everyone in here was a little kooky.
                I really must tweet about this later he thought to himself as he waited for his coffee to arrive picking up salt shaker next to the sugars and held it back from his face. Staring at the reflection he admired his beard, he didn’t mind looking at the disfigured face in metallic at least it wasn’t showing a clear representation of him. That he could deal with.

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Evelyn • M a r i e • Madison
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                                          He didn't seem to notice her staring at him. He was too involved in the search for some elusive item in his pockets. Eve used the time to rack her brains from some clue where she might have met him. At a bar, maybe? He seemed like the type to chill at one of the many bars Eve may have frequented. She didn't think she'd seen him in any clubs.. he didn't look like the trendy night scene type... she was embarrassed to admit to herself that he could be a friend of one of her clients... to think that her business spread that wide was a little shameful. She promptly booted that explanation just as he seemed to finally find his glasses. They were very stylish, they red tint to them complimenting the color of his eyes. Eve liked eyes... she felt she could judge a person just by looking into their eyes. His, at the moment, were glued to the menu, so the opportunity wasn't really there. Movement caught Eve's eye, and she turned to see Alexis eying her customer. Eve recognized that glint...The brunette was definitely undressing him with her eyes. The thought amused Eve, almost to the point of a smirk.

                                          "Come on, where are you little bugger?"

                                          Eve's eyes widened, and she turned back to the man sitting in the booth quizzically. That accent...it couldn't be. It was too much of a coincidence. Plenty of people in New York had accents, didn't they? It was the biggest melting pot in the United States. Just because two people shared similar accents didn't mean they could be the same person... What were the chances that Piano boy would end up in the Corner Spot, out of all the restaurants in the area. It was stupid to even think something like that would be possible, and Eve tried to dismiss the thought, twisting the pen in between her fingers nervously. It wasn't the same person...but the fact that his voice sounded remarkably like the voice that sang her to sleep the night before, accent or no was unignorable. What exactly was that accent? Australian? It was really sexy... Suddenly, he looked up at her through his red rimmed glasses. Eve, never the type to shy away, returned his glance, pleased that even though his stare was brief, it was admiring. If he was by some miracle her mystery man, her piano boy, then Eve should not have worried about being disappointed about his appearance. This man definitely would have met her expectations.

                                          He was back to reading the menu again, which proved Eve was wrong about him being a regular customer. Most people who frequented here new that the only two things safe to eat here was the club sandwich and the cheese steak. She was about to tell him so, when he dropped the menu and beckoned her forward. Eve raised a brow, mistrustfully, but the grin on his face wasn't malicious, and so she did as he said, leaning forward to hear his joke. Once again the sound of his voice jarred her, and this time she felt her heart jump in her chest. What the hell was this? She had to get a grip on herself... Eve laughed weakly at his joke, unable to truly find the humor in her present state of mind. Her gaze on his was quizzical, unable to help her searching stare. "Um, yeah..." she said in answer to his inquiries about the food, tucking her pad back into the folds of her apron, and her pen back behind her ear. She had to get out of here for a bit, get some air. "A Latte, no problem..." And then he smiled at her as he placed his menu down, and Eve felt her heart tug again. She wasn't at all the fall in love at first sight type of girl, but that smile was amazing... There was something unique about the way the corners of his mouth curled into a grin... as if he knew a secret the whole world wanted in on. She took a step backwards, before spinning on her heel and hastily making her way into the kitchens, mumbling a quick, "I'll be right with you..." over her shoulder as she went.

                                          The heat of the kitchens was stifling and oppressive, doubling Eve's need for fresh air. She pushed the back door open into the alleyway, gulping in mouthfuls of cool city air. The door to the Corner Spot slammed behind her, and Eve leaned on the cool brick of the building, resting her hand on her head. She could feel red patched of heat under each cheek, from embarrassment or nerves she couldn't say. She was being ridiculous. All this over some supposed boy next door, he probably was still up at the apartment, strumming tunes on his guitar... all this over some guy who happened to sound a lot like him. Since when did Eve ever get worked up over a guy? But even as she asked the question the answer popped into her head... Piano boy was no longer some guy. He knew a part of her that she didn't share with anyone else. He effected her in ways she'd never known, simply by playing a melody.

                                          'I think your music...is the closest I've been to heaven'

                                          Eve had meant that, however drunk she'd been at the moment. Piano Boy was special to her, even if she'd never seen his face. However, it was very unlikely that the man in the booth was Piano Boy. There wasn't any reason to get worked up. She should just get him his Latte, and move on with her day... taking a breath, Eve opened the back door to the kitchen, ignoring the confused looks of the short order cook, before traveling behind the bar and fixing the man his coffee. As she poured the hot liquid into the cup, Eve spotted Alexis moving in for the kill. 'Outside the bathroom, Alexis, really?' she thought as she watched Alexis smile her greasy teen queen smile his way. Eve wondered briefly if he went for that type of girl, aggressively obnoxious ones. Apparently not, as he made his way promptly back to his seat. An idea occurred to Eve as she watched a very sour Alexis return to her tables... it would be nice to show the other waitress up. Nice payback, for all the crack whore jokes she threw her way. She walked out from behind the bar, shooting Karen a quick, "I'm taking my break." before approaching his booth. She placed the latte in front of him before promptly sliding in the booth across from him.

                                          "So, everything on the menu is for s**t. If you absolutely have to eat something, then order a club sandwich. Otherwise, you could take me out for hot dog at the stand across the street." Eve said, placing her chin on her hands, blinking up at him teasingly, "You got a name, Latte boy?"






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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx••• It never takes too l o n g
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Gaia Forums » GAIA Community » Barton Town (Role Play) » Invitation-only RP

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