♥ A ♦ C ♣ E ♠

[Her Acoustic Heart]

He watched his younger siblings go. They were so... annoying. He smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets and walked off towards the school building. Louis Nicholas had to check in with the office every morning for the next three weeks to make sure that he was actually attending classes regularly. Sitting down for hours on end just wasn't his bag anymore; once upon a time, it had been. Louis had been a great kid in some good academic standing (not that he still wasn't) but his teachers were growing weary of the way he would saunter back into class after a week or so of being absent and acing his tests.

So now he was branded a cheat he supposed. Louis lazily sauntered into the office with a smile that would melt the undergarments of any person of any age. He leaned against the counter, beaming down at the girl behind it. "Let Burr know I was here, darling?" He purred, looking her straight in the eyes when she acknowledged his presence. He watched as she recognized him, shifted a bit under his gaze and nodded mutely. How cute.

The young man couldn't help but laugh as he reached into his pockets for a smoke. Traveling through the shallow sea of students he wound up sitting behind on of the school buildings looking for his zippo.

Cursing lightly to himself when he came up empty handed he looked around for any possible candidates that would have one with them. With a groan he leaned against the building, checking out the backsides of a group of emo kids that passed him by on their way onto campus. His fingers started twitching, he wanted to get in a fight.

Tilting his head to the side, he spied a fine blonde specimen coming towards the school and whistled. "Hey. He greeted smoothly when she was within earshot.





[OoC: Sorry this one is so short! >.< ]

[Her Acoustic Heart]

color = #10607D

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ℱℯℯℓ тнε ℬℜℰℰȤℰ
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"Talking"
Thinking
Texting

[Her Acoustic Heart]

It was not plainly obvious, but Charlie Stone really wasn't in the mood for another concert, he wasn't in the mood for the screaming girls with their signs, and support and admiration, but most importantly and to his shock; Charlie wasn't in the mood for music. It had been an ever growing feeling since his band had signed on for a record deal. Once upon a time, their music was fresh, real... alive. Their music meant something! Now it was just words; words that didn't seem like their own, words that didn't hold any real meaning to him or any of his band mates. The Sexperts were chin deep in fame, fan letters and gifts constantly, but the only one who wasn't enjoying it (for the most part) was Charlie, sure Evan, Scott and Zach took notice of their less than stellar sellout, but were, for the most part, okay with it.

Charlie sighed, letting his head flop back onto the couch, trying to drown out the constant stream of screaming and noise from the stage that lay just a few feet to his left. The stage manager Ginnie came scurrying up to the four boys with a bright smile, waving frantically with her free hand and touched her head set. Charlie watched her, puckering his lips before pulling them back. It was about time for them to go on, so with one deep breath he pushed himself off the couch.

He pinched his shoulders back, hearing them crack and ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it as he did so. His friends preceded him to the stage, sending their fans into an even bigger tizzy than they had been in. Charlie paused before he stepped foot from behind the concealment the curtain provided. One more breath, he put on a smile and stepped out. The process only took a second. Charlie hide the wince his body almost did automatically when the screaming got even louder (if that was even possible) and he lifted a hand in greeting, a small smile on his face.

His band mates all got their equipment at the ready while he slung his guitar over his shoulders, stepping up to the mic, grasping it in his hands. "Hey everybody. Thanks for coming out tonight." He smiled, scanning the crowd as he spoke. He swore he heard a few marriage proposals and offers of babies, but he only chuckled softly, away from the mic. His response was even more noise and cheering, that once made him feel amazing, but he just... wasn't up for it anymore.

"We really appreciate your support, so without any more delay..." A playful smirk pull on his lips, it was the closest he'd felt to enjoying himself in a long time as Evan started to jam out a riff while Zach strumming out the bass. The drums came alive and Charlie took up his own instrument, launching into a popular song.

As he sang, his eyes slowly moved over the faces of the young men and women in the crowd. His eyes flicked downward to the front most rows of the concert hall. The little jingle 'one of these things is not like the other' sprang into his head as he pulled back from the mic. Disturbed. Not the band, but their tee was sitting just a few row away from him. He couldn't say that they were bad if he wanted to be struck down where he stood. He was into them, and the fact that the person wearing it looked less than pleased to be here (much like he was) made him smiled a bit more. s**t! Eye contact made! Abort mission, abort! ABORT! he thought frantically and picked up his cue, continuing the song and strumming out chords.

An eternity slipped by before concert was through, with a few closing words, The Sexperts were back behind the curtain and away from the hundreds of pairs of eyes. Charlie found the couch in a hurry and flopped down on it, sprawling his entire body across it and threw an arm over his eyes

"Man we were pretty low on the hype tonight." Scott observed, taking a seat on an unused speaker with a sigh, rubbing his temples. The other two only nodded in agreement, looking to Charlie who felt their eyes on his face.

"Yeah, it was probably me, I'm not feeling so hot tonight." He muttered. Charlie slowly got up from the couch and shuffled to the cooler box next to the food table. "I've been feeling kind of off for a while, I think I need a br--"

"Excuse me! I was wondering if you could... Erm... Well, then... Anne would hate me right now...". The four young men looked a bit shocked to see a girl with crazy hair standing before them, no signs of a backstage pass on her person (that they could see at least). There was a small silence, as Charlie registered her shirt. Disturbed girl. He wondered absently if she listened to them or just owned the shirt just because she could.

"There goes all hopes and dreams of never hearing about your band anymore..."

That was definitely a surprise. The four guys looked at each other for a split second before Evan, over in his corner opened his mouth, confusion setting heavily in his face, "Um... sorry?" He tried, scratching his chin.

"...Are you lost or something?" He offered, stepping up to her slowly.

[Her Acoustic Heart]

"speaking."
thoughts.
notes and texts.

TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST

[Her Acoustic Heart]

"speaking."
thoughts.
notes and texts.

It was interesting to watch people, Evangelina had observed in her twenty-two years, but thus far no one that seemed to fall asleep so quickly. Though, the crazy thing was, he still wrote, maybe he hadn't fallen asleep, just really into the last few words he was writing. She knew she could be like that sometimes. But hey, everyone had their quirks, right? And apparently one of his quirks was to scratch the back of his neck. She couldn't help but observe how cute and bashful the gesture made his look, especially when he suddenly jerked his arm down to his side once more.

Eva watched him fiddle with his notebook, quickly changing to a different page. He was a curious kind of guy.

[Her Acoustic Heart]

"speaking."
thoughts.
notes and texts.

TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST
TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST
TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST
TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST TEST

[Her Acoustic Heart]

"speaking."
thoughts.
notes and texts.

..ωнєɴ ɪʀɪsн єӌєs αʀє s м ɪ ℓ ɪ ɴ ɢ..


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[Her Acoustic Heart]

"speaking."
thoughts.
notes and texts.

A silent sigh heaved from her lungs and into the air while dull, listless eyes stared across the lobby at the brick wall. It had become a pass-time for her to count the bricks on the other side, though she'd never made it past sixty or so. Though she only partook in the 'game' when there were no interesting books for her to read behind her post and sadly, today was one of those days. Thirty-two... thirty-three...thirty-four...

Another sigh escaped her. Brown orbs swept across the lobby for the billionth time that afternoon, trying to find something --anything-- to straighten or tidy up until her next break. But, alas, she was far too good at her job and her lobby was pristine as usual. It was one of the few things she prided herself in; being tidy. The second would be her ability to be invisible almost all the time --if she was lucky. In fact, just this afternoon, a coworker had walked into the break room, right past her, picked up a few books to sort away, passed her a second time, and promptly shut the light off.

When going through her adolescence, she'd discovered what she liked to call 'her super power' of invisibility. Though at the time, she was thankful for it since she never had to suffer the garbage toss or the ever popular swirly in high school. But at this stage in her life, she'd figured she'd attract some kind of attention. On the contrary, she seemed to become even more invisible and it startled her from time to time. With the lobby being so quiet, she moved from behind her posting, informed her fellow librarian she was going to visit the restroom and swiftly shuffled down the hallway.

She had no use being in the bathroom, but, like her brick counting, it had become a habit, although one formed long ago. Dull brown met dull brown in the mirror fastened to the tiled wall. She had never been pretty so to speak; not even plain. You could work with plain, but she was most certain she was ugly, you cannot work with ugly, lest you be ready to go under a knife. Carefully, she removed the blue rimmed glasses from her face, setting them down on the sink in front of her.

Her hair, with no volume or body, was stringy and sorely in need of a wash, she noted, and, like the rest of her, very dull. She watched her mirror self reach up to touch the strands that had fallen from her messy bun. Her face, void of makeup was so pale, she often scared people when the finally saw her in the room. She looked sickly. Her eyes, once her favorite feature, now held nothing behind them; no hopes, no ambitions of any kind. And the bags! Her mother was always on her case about the bags under her eyes.

She could honestly say there was nothing really cared for on her whole person. Not even her clothes; which consisted of sweaters, most of the time, a vest and Little House on the Prairie-esque skirts. Sure, there was a time when she tried to look passable, even nice, but most of the feminine clothes fit her since she possessed no real curve anywhere. She was lanky, all elbows and knees and not a lick of grace. Maybe tomorrow she would try to break this habit. But that was something she told her self everyday.

Sighing once more, defeated, she made her way back to the lobby to settle back into her counting.

Just shy of a new record (sixty-two) the familiar squeak and thump of the book return broke her concentration. Adjusting her skirt, she moved as swiftly as she could, bending to pick up the newest return from the bin once she'd reached it. As usual, she checked for damage; missing pages, rips, bends, dog ears, broken binds. Nothing out of the ordinary, though, as she came to the end of the book, a slip of paper fell at her feet.

Her head cocked to the side, just staring at it, not quite sure what to make of it. Then, slowly, she knelt down and picked it up, standing back up while letting her eyes scan the lines.

It looked like a poem, perhaps the borrower had forgotten it inside, using it for a marker. How curious. Nonetheless, she kept reading. She had to admit it was a nice poem, she quite enjoyed the C.S. Lewis references. But the poem was also chilling; made her skin crawl, made her feel like... someone was watching. Her eyes darted up from the piece of paper to every corner she could see. Of course, no one was there. How silly of her. Shaking her head slowly, she set the book down next to one of the computers along with the poem, and began checking the book back in. Her fingers moved quickly over the number pad. 255009432.

There it was, back in the system and ready for the next patron. Her eyes shifted from the screen to the poem just a hair's breath away from her little finger. What should she do with it? Throw it out? That seemed like a shame, so she picked it up once more and crossed to the back on the other side of the small space behind her counter to her bag. She supposed she could keep it, just in case the writer wanted it back. Carefully, she pulled out a binder and tucked it safely away in the sleeve.

------

The librarian: Miriam Elizabeth Lloyd; Aged; 20; Mother, and elder brother alive; Currently existing

[Her Acoustic Heart]

"speaking."
thoughts.
notes and texts.

Ｈ Ｕ Ｇ Ｈ Ｅ Ｓ, Ｍ Ａ Ｒ Ｇ Ａ Ｕ Ｘ
↬ ☣ HAZARD ☣ ↫
____________________"
xxxxxxxxxxxx "I'M A HAZARD TO MYSELF
DON'T LET ME GET ME"


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