m o o s i e p o p s
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- Posted: Tue, 18 Mar 2008 16:03:13 +0000
((I'm bored && they're reviewing how to use excel which I've known how to use since like, fourth grade, so I'll write as Sammy. :] I'll format when my mommy leaves the house later on tonight. >>; -isn't allowed to be on the computer very much anymore.- A lot of BS, but yeah. :] I luhs you? ))
The college student roamed the halls of the hospital, hands crammed into his shorts' pockets, eyes searching for a cafeteria of some sort. Since the initial shock of his brother and his new what Samson assumed was his girlfriend's accident was wearing off, he couldn't muster up the bravery to ask for some directions. He figured it was alright though, he had time to kill after all. The boy hadn't any classes or important events that day, and he felt a bit of a need to be there for easy access for Demetri. He watched nurses pass, other visitors, all with the same odd expression- one he supposed he wore not long earlier. It was a mixture of nerves and concern, with a dash of contempt for being in a hospital. Although the nurses and doctors that passed didn't wear that as often; Sam had never met a person that was in a hospital. The male passed a dark room with a window inside, and saw his reflection.
How he had changed in the short year, his light brown hair had been fixed with a box of Loreal hair dye and now was a dark brown- almost black- not to mention it had gotten longer. And to most people's suprise, he had grown a little. Most men had finished growing by his age, but Sammy was an odd character, always growing. Since he was in college, he figured he was done finally. He picked up a lock of dark hair, frowned at it, thinking, "Perhaps it's time for a trim." Looking away from the Sam with the new piercing in the window, he continued in his journey for his addiction.
About fifteen minutes later, the boy had barely managed to order a cup of coffee from a cashier. He mumbled, scratched his head, turned a color near purple, and stammered his request. The male manning the cashier just laughed at his shy manner, and asked him for an autograph. Sam cocked his head in response, and the cafe worker continued, "You were in that band right?" The dark brunet frowned, swiped up his coffee, and shook his head. "I-I have a...familiar face." He stammered out, blushing. 'Band, me? No way. If I could barely order a coffee, there's no way I could be on stage.' Slumping into a cafeteria chair, the male sipped at his coffee, savoring the taste.
The college student roamed the halls of the hospital, hands crammed into his shorts' pockets, eyes searching for a cafeteria of some sort. Since the initial shock of his brother and his new what Samson assumed was his girlfriend's accident was wearing off, he couldn't muster up the bravery to ask for some directions. He figured it was alright though, he had time to kill after all. The boy hadn't any classes or important events that day, and he felt a bit of a need to be there for easy access for Demetri. He watched nurses pass, other visitors, all with the same odd expression- one he supposed he wore not long earlier. It was a mixture of nerves and concern, with a dash of contempt for being in a hospital. Although the nurses and doctors that passed didn't wear that as often; Sam had never met a person that was in a hospital. The male passed a dark room with a window inside, and saw his reflection.
How he had changed in the short year, his light brown hair had been fixed with a box of Loreal hair dye and now was a dark brown- almost black- not to mention it had gotten longer. And to most people's suprise, he had grown a little. Most men had finished growing by his age, but Sammy was an odd character, always growing. Since he was in college, he figured he was done finally. He picked up a lock of dark hair, frowned at it, thinking, "Perhaps it's time for a trim." Looking away from the Sam with the new piercing in the window, he continued in his journey for his addiction.
About fifteen minutes later, the boy had barely managed to order a cup of coffee from a cashier. He mumbled, scratched his head, turned a color near purple, and stammered his request. The male manning the cashier just laughed at his shy manner, and asked him for an autograph. Sam cocked his head in response, and the cafe worker continued, "You were in that band right?" The dark brunet frowned, swiped up his coffee, and shook his head. "I-I have a...familiar face." He stammered out, blushing. 'Band, me? No way. If I could barely order a coffee, there's no way I could be on stage.' Slumping into a cafeteria chair, the male sipped at his coffee, savoring the taste.















