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 Posted: Wed Dec 26, 2012 2:40 am
Roleplay is between masquerade-of-the-angels and Arzen Claire. Reading is encouraged, but posting not.
p l o t :
They both lived in different worlds. He was a child prodigy, someone who had achieved his goals early in his life. He was now on his way towards being the CEO of one of the most prestigious companies in Great Britain. On the other hand, he was a social recluse, someone who shied away from the society, even from school, a smart college dropout working his way little by little for his tuition. When our little social recluse gets his promotion to the cafe where our successful businessman gets his daily coffee, those two are about to get their collision course dished out to them in a silver platter. And along with those silver sparks, secrets will be revealed.
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Posted: Wed Dec 26, 2012 3:22 am
r u l e s :
ᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ
A paragraph with five sentences in minimum. No less than that. Go ahead and write a novel, if you can. I actually prefer that instead of one measly paragraph. -____-'' Then, there's the works. No font size of 9, and 12. It's either 10 or 11. Only.. No blinding colors. Silver is counted as blinding. Yada yada yada. Post a few times a week, and don't let this die, yo. But don't post thirty-five times a day.
ᴄᴇɴsᴏʀs
We both know that we'll like it when these two start developing feelings for each and start doing things, but nothing past NC-16. Time skip when the clothes come off, aye? Or we take it to FB. Cursing is good. It helps express the feelings. But don't do it like a sailor. Don't put curses in every single sentence. We both don't want the posts to be filled with @!*# and *@#&$(!, right? 'Cause I don't.
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Posted: Sun Dec 30, 2012 8:49 am
 Ｔｈｉｓ ｉｓ ｈｏｗ Ｉ'ｍ ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ ｂｅ Ｉｎ ａ ｌａｎｄ ｏｆ ｍａｋｅ-ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Looking back to the last year of his life, one couldn't really say that this was where Scott had envisioned himself being. Maybe he'd expected to be working under the Calder Group of Companies, yes, but as something less...substantial. Perhaps a banker or something of the sort. He wasn't exactly the type to go prancing about the offices, seeking a chance to go and suck up to his boss--granted, if said boss even knew his name. Which wasn't really likely, since he had none of those outstanding qualities that often piqued the interest of the superiors; he probably would've been a pretty expendable employee. As an office fixture, there was nothing really special about him, except for intelligence and sheer willpower. Maybe he would've been one of those 'associates-turned-interns', blokes who were tasked with running around London with someone's dry cleaning and half a dozen's orders of soy lattes in hand.
But not this. Somehow, by a stroke of luck, he'd managed to skip those dreaded first years as a businessman, and head straight to the next milestone: executive. It was a feat most of his peers could only dream of ever achieving before the age of thirty. He had the respect, the privileges, the six-figure paychecks, the power to control an entire department. And to think, without a birthright. (Well, okay, that's not how other people saw it. But still, that was his--and old Grandpa Fitz--'s little secret.) It was like living the American dream--only, it was British. And much more rewarding.
Most people would expect him to be in Nirvana or something by now--hell, he'd reached a prime spot in his life, and he wasn't even 24. However, the grass was always greener on the other side, or so it seemed. While he should be perfectly content with the way things were going right now, truth be told, he was this close to being at his wits' end. If he could sum it all into one word, it would be: overwhelming. Yes, overwhelming. He wasn't used to all this responsibility on his shoulders, all at once. For the better part of his life, he'd been trifled with only himself to take care of. There'd been no one else for him to take care of for the past 23 years, and suddenly he was almost in charge of a whole company group of companies.
Every day, it was like being in a battlefield. Thrown to the lions in a Roman coliseum. But no, he was no gladiator. He was an executive dealing with the corporate sharks of Wall Street and almost every other financial district in the world. Scott was constantly dealing with merger propositions, board meetings, conference calls that spanned continents; not to mention that he was also keeping an eye on the stock exchange across the globe--different currencies, different time zones. Despite his impressive work ethic, and how well he was usually able to juggle all these things, it could get suffocating. Most times. All the time.
Right now. "Bloody hell," he whispered, running a hand through blonde locks. Subsequently, it flew to the bridge of his nose, pinching it, along with the bridge of his wire-rimmed glasses, in frustration. The office was as hectic as ever, not very different from what you'd see in a wild jungle. Phones were ringing off the hook, papers were being scattered everywhere, footsteps hurried along the corridors, and you could feel the tension wound up in everyone's shoulders. Though there was a large glass wall separating Scott from the rest of the office, every little noise made outside pounded in his eardrums like something taken straight out of a hangover. He scowled slightly, he hadn't even had the time for a proper drink these days, and he was still getting the negative effects of it.
Just as his secretary, a bumbling young man a few years his junior, knocked timidly on the glass, the Calder heir came to a decision. Standing up in his chair, he said levelly, "Come in, Felix." Straightening his tie, he paid no mind to the ramblings that automatically flowed out the other's mouth like water from a faucet. "M-mr. Calder! I have some documents for you to sign, and we need your confirmation on the dinner party at the Ritz tomorrow. Also, the investors from Macau rang today, and they're sending over some paralegals tomorrow for the board meeting on Tuesday. Oh, yes, we'll also need a final check on the advert of the new downtown bank..."
Before he could continue, Scott raised up a hand, silencing the bumbling idiot. "Can we not save this for tomorrow, Felix?" He asked calmly, his tone indicating threats otherwise. "I highly doubt that there will be a meltdown in the financial market during my absence, so don't have too much faith in me, boy. Leave those papers in my inbox, they aren't going to go anywhere by themselves. As for the investors, the board meeting is still on Tuesday, the paralegals can have some time to themselves." He clicked his tongue, brushing past Felix to exit the room with a flourishing step.
Just like I need time to myself. I've got places to be and people to see. Okay, so maybe that wasn't entirely true, Scott was always too wiped out after work to catch any time to himself, or his mates. Or even Natalie. Not that he'd even make an effort to make time in the first place. Taking a deep breath, he felt himself plunge down along with the elevator, from the penthouse floor. He could steal a few hours to unwind.
What he needed right now was a coffee...and he knew a place just around the corner. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Ｔｈａｔｄｏｅｓｎ'ｔ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ｉｎ ｍｅ | Calder Group of Companies Headquarters | Felix | Burberry suit | Throwing Caution to the Wind | ( ooc: Isht. Long post right here. /wrists )
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Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2012 12:29 am
 posting style by: ilyasviel16location ♦ behind the cafe counter
emotion ♦ keen, giddy
companion ♦ no one
updownYes, of course, except for dropping out of school. He missed the quiet classes, the challenging homeworks, the all-nighter projects and the hazy buzz of the library during thesis-times. Arthur was a nerd, and he preferred being inside campus grounds than being at home, ever. The library over his own room, the cafeteria over the Calder dining room. In school, no one would pay attention to him, only his professors. His grandfather wouldn't be looming over him like a dark cloud, dictating everything he needed to do. And professors only cared enough if you submitted your requirements on time.
updownIf he was given the choice, he wouldn't have dropped from Oxford. But it had been necessary, for him to cut all connections from his family.
updownRight now, Arthur bent over his laptop, a sleek dark blue thing he's had ever since high school, browsing the Cambridge site for the requirements needed for his application. He supposed he'll need to have his name officially changed to Yaxley, his deceased mother's -bless her- maiden name before she married into the family of hellspawn. And then there's his records from high school; good thing he had the mind to get them when he became estranged. Oh, he'll need to retrieve his grades from Oxford as well.
updownA sigh escaped Arthur's lips as he used his middle finger to raise the black glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. This was going to take a long time, and he needed to start reviewing books for his newly picked course: Psychology. He was finally free, and with that, he was going to utilize his freedom in the best way possible. And having had no freedom from his childhood, being able to choose his chosen course with no one dictating him anything made him feel very giddy indeed, if the wide smile on his face was any indication.
updownWhen a customer seated herself on one of the tables nearest the counter, he sprinted to her to take her order. "A pleasant morning to you, miss. I'm Arthur, and I will be your server for today. May I take your order? If you haven't chosen yet, I can recommend the chocolate mousse and the latte, a perfect combination for this lovely morning." He wasn't really keen on the sunlight that flooded in from the glass windows, but that didn't really matter right now, since absolutely nothing could dampen his mood, just about.
ｊｕｓｔ ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ ｔｈｏｓｅ ｅｙｅｓ, ｔａｋｅ ｍｅ ａｗａｙ
ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ ｉ ｃａｎ'ｔ ｔａｋｅ ｔｈｉｓ ｐａｉｎxxxxxxxxxxx ( ooc: Writer's block. //wristsaswell The recommendation, ignore it. I'm useless at cafes. xD /shot ) xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2012 2:40 am
Ｔｈｉｓ ｉｓ ｈｏｗ Ｉ'ｍ ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ ｂｅ Ｉｎ ａ ｌａｎｄ ｏｆ ｍａｋｅ-ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Surprisingly, the sun was out today. Normally, London was hailed as one of the bleakest, wettest cities in the world, which was why Scott was almost always forced to take a town car to work, even when he was honestly tired of being caged in closed spaces. His penthouse, his office, his car. This, being out in the fresh air, was a welcome change, and it brightened his spirits considerably.
All he needed to worry about now was if Natalie caught wind of his little escape. Then she would hunt him down, or at least spam his Blackberry until he caved and went to some fancy European restaurant with her. Until she got drunk and giggly and irritated him to death. Natalie was a nice girl, really, and a dream for most guys, but the only thing that really attracted her to him was her intelligence. And if that was out the window, then he might as well jump the river Thames and call it a night.
Pushing those thoughts out of mind, he paused in front of the nearby café's door and loosened his tie. He contemplated taking it off, along with his suit jacket. It was, after all, his off-time. With that thought in mind, he shrugged off the jacket, leaving him in a casual white polo and his clean-pressed work slacks. It didn't seem so stuffy and formal compared to
the quaint, homely café before him. A smal bell over the door jingled as he entered, welcoming him in.
Somehow, this cheery little joint reminded him of Holmes Chapel. He didn't have that many memories of the place, but he still remembered the warm vibes he got, the safety he felt there. It was a nice feeling, he resolved, and he wanted to feel it again. However, it would be quite impossible to go there right now, with both Fitz and Natalie watching over him with a hawk's eye. Besides, he was Scott Calder now, and it would be best to leave all traces of his past behind him. The rest was easy enough to forget, but there were some places that he secretly kept close to heart.
Inquisitive gold eyes scanned the surroundings. There didn't seem to be that many servers in the area, save for one young man seemingly his age. His back was turned to him, as he as addressing a female customer seated near the counter. Scott raised a brow at how chipper the bloke sounded. Perhaps it was the weather taking effect on not just him.
"Excuse me,", Scott murmured, sidling up behind the guy, "Aren't you quite lonely here, mate? I believe it's only fair that you have someone to take this lovely lady's order--" He nodded amiably at the woman with a charming smile, "While I get myself a double espresso, no fixings, on your watch." He smirked, though a small, idle part of him wondered why exactly he didn't switch the phrasing--or why he wanted this guy as his server, if not anyone else. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Ｔｈａｔｄｏｅｓｎ'ｔ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ｉｎ ｍｅ | Cafè | Café Server 'Arthur', was it? | Burberry suit | Amused, Content | ( ooc: This took me like an eternity to write. Tablet, oh tablet. )
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Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2012 4:47 am
posting style by: ilyasviel16location ♦ serving a table
emotion ♦ keen, giddy
companion ♦ no one
attire ♦ white cotton shirt with sleeves until the elbows, gray skinny jeans, black Converse, cafe waist-down apron
updownAs the lady was finishing her order, someone spoke from beside him, claiming his full attention. The male was blonde, and wearing what one would say the incomplete uniform of someone who worked in the district the cafe was located in. He blinked, his gaze briefly wandering to the lady he was serving to the male that was requesting him to to be his waiter. He smiled. Stephanie should be here with him, along with a few part-timers, but knowing that b|tch, it would be some time until she finished her so-called 'lunch break.'
updown"Please seat yourself, sir. I will be right back." He turned his back to the blonde and jogged to the counter. He leaned over it, waving the slip of paper containing the lady's order to the guy in the kitchen. "This is for table seven! And if you have your phone with you, kindly tell Steph to get her bloody arse here in ten if she doesn't want a mutiny," he said, smiling. Even if Steph was the one who owned this branch, sometimes, it felt as if he was the one the whole cafe staff relied on for guidance.
updownHe walked back to the table where the blonde businessman was seated, notepad and pen at the ready. "Good morning, sir. I'm Arthur and I will be your serve for today. Would you like anything with that double espresso of yours?" he said, smiling that absently blinding smile of his.
updownUnconsciously, Arthur found himself staring at the man. There was something oddly familiar about him... Though the blackette couldn't put his finger on what was it. There was that feeling that he had seen him somewhere before. But then again, both of them shared a workspace. They both worked in districts of Wall Street, so perhaps he had passed him by, or maybe he had been one of the blokes where Steph had pointed out to him that passed by the cafe on his way to the office. It could be anything, to be honest. And Steph being Steph, she loved teasing him and picking on him when it came to blokes, him being bent and all that.
ｊｕｓｔ ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ ｔｈｏｓｅ ｅｙｅｓ, ｔａｋｅ ｍｅ ａｗａｙ
ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ ｉ ｃａｎ'ｔ ｔａｋｅ ｔｈｉｓ ｐａｉｎxxxxxxxxxxx ( ooc: Omg, did I get the Wall Street name right. xD /shottoinfinity ) xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 4:29 am
Ｔｈｉｓ ｉｓ ｈｏｗ Ｉ'ｍ ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ ｂｅ Ｉｎ ａ ｌａｎｄ ｏｆ ｍａｋｅ-ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Scott felt a smile tug at his lips at being put on hold as his new server, Arthur, dashed into the kitchen with a slip of paper in his hand. It was refreshing, it really was. Normally, whenever people even caught a whiff of what exactly his last name entailed, they'd come scurrying over with their tails inbetween their legs. Sometimes, he didn't even need to do that. According to Fitz, he looked the part just as well as he played it. This was a lucky break, however. Today, he just wanted to be a normal guy.
And he supposed normal guys could be a little cheeky, right? He wasn't all stoic and serious like most people were led to believe. He actually had a life outside the office. Or, well, as much of a life as one could have without the overkill of having to run a company out of bounds, that is. A faint smile traced his lips as he leaned against the counter, his lanky legs somehow finding amusement in swinging over the bar stool he was sitting on, like a little kid. "Hmm," he mused, looking over the menu board hung up above his head. The letters were scrawled in chalk, and so neat and evenly printed that he had to restrain the smile that was bubbling up inside him. Everything about this place screamed home. And by home, he didn't mean the empty, monochrome penthouse flat he'd been occupying for the past year or so. Which Natalie was always trying to subtly hint moving into at some point in the future. Really, couldn't she just be direct and spit it out?
"Well, I could use a blueberry muffin to fill up the ole' tummy." He chuckled. "Just nothing too sweet, yeah? While I'm sure you either have a lovely little bakery or these are made elsewhere, I'm not too keen on sugar. I like my coffee, and everything else that goes with it, bitter." He gave a sheepish smile. "And before you say anything else, Arthur," He drawled the other's name with a teasing lilt, "I'm perfectly aware that I'm acting like a fine specimen of a t**t. I rather enjoy it, really.
And it was true. It had been so long, so long, since he'd been able to engage in this kind of playful banter with anyone under the age of 40 in well, forever. And while he was alert of the fact that he was supposed to be giving off the aura of a business-savvy, straight executive, he way the way he was. And right now, he was staring. At Arthur. Wont to appreciate a small moment of beauty whenever the chance presented itself. But there were always some limits, boundaries he should respect; he thought, glancing down at his folded hands for a moment. Lest he accidentally memorize his cafe server's facial features and tuck them away in his subconscious mind. Because that was just...weird. Granted, it might make being around Natalie a little more easier, but--no. No.
Looking over at the barista though, he couldn't help himself. The guy was looking just a little too eager for him not to be interested. Even though said interest was not particularly sparked by himself, Scott couldn't help but be drawn to it. "You know,, he began after a moment, "I'm also pretty sure that you're the taste tester around here. Or the coffee bean sampler, whatever you call it." He let out a light laugh. "A little buzzed, aren't you? Best not let the sugar get to nerves, chap. London never has time for those people who like to frolick through the fields, though the weather today may state otherwise." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Ｔｈａｔｄｏｅｓｎ'ｔ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ｉｎ ｍｅ | Cafè | Arthur | Half of a Burberry suit | Amused, Content | ( ooc: I had to repost this like, idk how many times. ;3; Darnit. )
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 5:28 am
posting style by: ilyasviel16location ♦ serving a table
emotion ♦ keen, giddy
companion ♦ no one
attire ♦ white cotton shirt with sleeves until the elbows, gray skinny jeans, black Converse, cafe waist-down apron
updownArthur was, in a matter of words, speechless. It wasn't usual that someone paid attention to him, and it certainly wasn't usual that that 'someone' happened to be decently intelligent and equally good-looking. But the young Yaxley had been made for quick decisions and fabricating of expressions. Having Fitzwilliam Calder as your grandfather gave you a certain set of skills. He easily returned the grin, but inside, he was currently suffering a small nervous breakdown. "No worries, sir, I'm actually used to stuck-ups with sticks up their arses, so someone acting like yourself is quite refreshing." He said this with a polite smile. His hand quickly jotted down the order Scott had made, adding a few personal notes. It was something he did, when he was in a good mood. If the customers treated him right, Arthur was going go return the favor.
updownHe flashed a boyish grin, somewhat amused by the blonde male's playful jibe. Yes, he was certainly aware of how oddly cheerful he was right now. Normally, he would be sulking, considering the sunny weather, but, hey, school always seem to pick up the mood of this introverted nerd. "Fields are made for frolicking, I suppose. And," he rolled his eyes. "I enjoy staying in my little hole, homey as this place is." He crinkled his nose. "Not much liveliness in the place yonder." Arthur was vaguely aware of the fact that he was, in a way, indirectly insulting the male in front of him. But the young man was prone to speaking his mind, even when subdued.
updownArthur waved his notepad, a slightly cocky grin still adorning his youthful features. "Well then, sir, if you'll excuse me, I will be getting your order." He walked to the counter, and handed the slip of paper to Hank, the man in the kitchen. Arthur knew he had the tendency of leaning over the counter too much, as said by Steph, to the point that he had been hit on by a few of the batting-of-the-other-team males, to the point that it seemed innocently provocative, but to Arthur, it was merely a childish gesture of his cheerfulness. "Hank, any word from our eejit mistress?" When the brunette sighed and shook his head, Arthur tapped his cheek. "A mutiny, it is, then."
updownArthur pilfered the lady's order and quickly set it on her table, balancing the blonde's tray on one hand. On in were a couple of blueberry-and-mint muffins, along with a tumbler of the espresso he had ordered. "Here you go, sir, double espresso with the blueberry muffin." Out of impulse, Arthur friendlily winked at him before sauntering away. When he was a few steps away, he froze at what he just did. Right. The guy wasn't a girl. In a brief moment of awkwardness, Arthur lightly banged the circular metal tray to his forehead for his brief moment of stupidity. He shouldn't be flaunting his sexuality to the world.
ｊｕｓｔ ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ ｔｈｏｓｅ ｅｙｅｓ, ｔａｋｅ ｍｅ ａｗａｙ
ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ ｉ ｃａｎ'ｔ ｔａｋｅ ｔｈｉｓ ｐａｉｎxxxxxxxxxxx ( ooc: /shot ) xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Posted: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:28 am
Ｔｈｉｓ ｉｓ ｈｏｗ Ｉ'ｍ ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ ｂｅ Ｉｎ ａ ｌａｎｄ ｏｆ ｍａｋｅ-ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Scott couldn't help but notice that once he'd addressed Arthur, the lad had come across as a little more than surprised. And, strangely enough, the blonde Calder's first instinct was for his stomach to knot into something undecipherable and be simultaneously attacked by winged creatures that he wasn't going to go so far as to call butterflies...Maybe he'd eaten something bad this morning. After all, it couldn't possibly be due to the fact he was giddy over trivial, teenage-hormone things like this, of course not. A chuckle got trapped in his throat, someone from the office trying to poison him? And yet, there was almost no doubt that Felix, the angel he was--despite his questionable heterosexuality--would even dare to do something like that.
Once Arthur had recovered, he was all polite smiles and carefully crafted conversation. Scott's eyes narrowed infinitesimally when he was sure his server's attention was focused on the order he was jotting down. It might have seemed that he had nothing to hide from the world, and this was just an extra burst of energy and cheeriness he had. But Scott could tell that there was something underneath the surface, there was something more to this guy. And if there was anything he knew, it was that suddenly, he had the urge to find out whatever it was.
Despite himself, a roguish grin broke across his features at Arthur's sassy remark. It proved to be a compliment to the young executive, who was all too familiar with the rumors in the office that he was exactly the kind of person usually being dealt with in the cafe--stuck up snobs with just a touch of jack|ssery. He felt his breath hitch slightly at Arthur's answering smile. He almost didn't catch the quip he made next, until he had his words handed back to him on a silver platter.
It was rare for Scott to encounter someone who could easily be his match in wit--normally, he'd fire off one good biting comment and his employees would be slobbering over his feet in apology. Even if they didn't really do anything wrong. Fitz was too much of an old sourpuss to understand the sarcasm that was his light in life. And Natalie...Natalie was a harder one to read. Normally, she'd just play it coy and demure like the seraph she was, but there were times when he'd catch of glimpse of something in her eyes, before it was quickly snuffed out by her latest socialite gossip or fashion talk.
"I wouldn't know about that," Scott mused, running a hand through his hair in leisure. He felt oddly like a cat, lithe and lazy and just generally content basking in the sunlight. Playful. "London is London, and there's always life abound here." He smirked. "However, if you're looking for some action, they maybe you should take a night out on the town with a friend, see how it really is once it gets dark." He bit his lip harshly a second later, realizing what he'd said and cursing his slightly flirty tone. He wasn't actually asking this guy out, was he? It was a little over-the-top, he had to admit, even for him. And not to mention suspicious. If it had been a guy friend from the office and he'd invited them out for a drink, then it would be two old mates catching up over some booze. Hell, even Natalie's, or Fitz's friends would still be acceptable to be seen with in public. They were always talking about how he constantly needed to reinvent his social image, after all. And since his life was pretty much in their hands and he had little to no say in the matter, he just let them do wheat they pleased.
But he had to admit, asking your waiter, who you'd just met and were probably only supposed to see once or twice for a brief, professional dining experience--was not the best way to go. It was weird, even for common folk. So weird, in fact, that his head spun with the idea of his audacity and general stupidity at the suggestion. Though none of his inner turmoil was visible on his face, though.
However, any and all thoughts practically flew out the window once Arthur returned to the table. Scott had been so preoccupied that he hadn't even noticed him duck into the kitchen. He blinked as his drink, and some delicious looking muffins were placed before him. But what really got him was the saucy wink Arthur had dropped him before spinning around and sashaying away. Despite himself, and all the propriety he'd been trained to perfect, his mouth hung open, slack-jawed.
Damn, he thought, and before he could stop himself, a naughty wolf whistle made its way through his lips as he stared at Arhur's retreating a**, which was, he had to admit, a fine piece of work indeed. Catching himself though, he at least had the decency to blush when his fellow female customer blinked at him in mortified shock. Well, that was embarrassing. But he was honestly too surprised to care less. As if on impulse, his hand reached in his pocket and grabbed his Blackberry, and hit speed dial almost instantaneously.
"Hey, Natalie." He murmured into the phone, not bothering to wait for the answering pleasantries of the smooth female voice on the other end. "Listen, love," he began, his eyes trained on a certain someone standing not too far away, "I'm going to have to take a rain check on dinner tonight. I've got...um, a few errands to run."
He was in for a long, interesting time ahead of him. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Ｔｈａｔｄｏｅｓｎ'ｔ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ｉｎ ｍｅ | Cafè | Arthur | Half of a Burberry suit | Wham, bam, thank you m'am ( Just a little bit turned on ) | ( ooc: Why must my computer be so obstinate when it comes to posting and reposting. "e__e dramallama )
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Posted: Tue Jan 08, 2013 5:24 am
posting style by: ilyasviel16location ♦ serving a table
emotion ♦ anxious, excited
companion ♦ the blonde male, from afar: Hank
attire ♦ white cotton shirt with sleeves until the elbows, gray skinny jeans, black Converse, cafe waist-down apron
updownArthur felt his stomach twist into the knots he's been very acquainted with ever since he was little. Those knots usually surfaced whenever he was faced with something heavy that he didn't want to be dealing with. His grandfather was the best example. If Arthur heard that the elder would be coming home to the Calder estate, he would freeze over and try desperately to calm the slimy things that slithered inside his stomach. But more so, they appeared whenever he was nervous. This blonde male that sat so casually in his seat, like a predator watching its prey, there was something about him that made him want to bolt. He had a bad feeling about him, but usually, he was just paranoid, being the ex-Calder heir and all that.
updownBut even so, Arthur managed to retain his boyish smile and politely cocky facade. "Believe you me, sir, I would know about what lurks in the dark." And when those words left his lips, Arthur was inwardly left gawking at himself from his mental movie viewer. Was he flirting with the man? He was used to having customers hit on him, of both genders, and he was always ready with an arsenal of words to make sure he declined, firmly but politely professional. But exchanging words of playful banter with the man sent a jolt of excitement through him, something he couldn't recognize.
updownBut Arthur wasn't lying. He held not much experience in a land of the bees and the birds, but when you had Steph as your best friend, you were often dragged to various places, bars and clubs very frequent. Ever since she found out he was bent, she had been trying her best to hook him up with anyone that looked his way twice. The experiences were so well-engraved in his mind with horror and disbelief that he was confident in saying that he knew most of the places in downtown London. And being the introverted social recluse he was, he didn't really know if that was good for him or not.
updownThe blackette was making his way back to the counter, gripping the metal curves of his tray tightly, when a loud wolf whistle reached his ears. Pink dusted the top of his ears, and he desperately pushed down the slithering feeling in his stomach away. Nonchalant. Arthur, you have to act nonchalant. He looked back slightly, smirking in feigned mirth, an eyebrow raised in challenging question. "Did you need anything else?"
updownFrom the window the gave the outside a slight view of the clean and sterile kitchen, Hank openly gawked at Arthur. He had been working alongside the young man for a while now, and this was definitely a side to him that he's only seen now. Arthur was most open and straightforward around Steph, but he never would have thought flirty existed in his vocabulary. "Blimey, the little lad's coming out of the closet. Bugger me surprised," he muttered under his breath before turning back to his job.
ｊｕｓｔ ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ ｔｈｏｓｅ ｅｙｅｓ, ｔａｋｅ ｍｅ ａｗａｙ
ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ ｉ ｃａｎ'ｔ ｔａｋｅ ｔｈｉｓ ｐａｉｎxxxxxxxxxxx ( ooc: /shot ) xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Posted: Tue Jan 08, 2013 7:16 am
Ｔｈｉｓ ｉｓ ｈｏｗ Ｉ'ｍ ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ ｂｅ Ｉｎ ａ ｌａｎｄ ｏｆ ｍａｋｅ-ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
When it came to flirting, or schmoozing in general, Scott could say that he knew his way around the minefield. Be it at socialite parties, meeting business associates or warming up to Natalie's stiff family--and his own, as he soon found out, he knew how to pull certain strings and knock people off their feet. All with an air of nonchalance that could rival maybe a modern day Casablanca, not that he could ever come close to someone as legendary of Humphrey Bogart. And he could still be composed enough to smile and charm the pants off whoever it was with a glass of bourbon in hand, still managing to make them swoon even if his mind was actually set on getting tipsy.
Right now, however, proved to be different. In all his years, Arthur was proving to be one of the most difficult cases Scott had ever read. The male was crisply polite and accomodating on the outside, but he could sense a sort of adrenaline-induced jumpiness behind that composed demeanor. And, in spite of himself, Scott gulped. Maybe hitting on this particular bloke had been a bad idea. Particularly when Arthur made that remark about knowing his way around the Red Light District, Scott fought a wince. He may have looked a little introverted, yes, a lot introverted but appearances weren't everything. Though it still did strike him that that was the barista's natural image, but he brushed the thought aside.
Trying to win his dignity back, and perhaps this game as well, Scott offered, "Then why spend your time cooped up in this place, especially when you yourself think it's a trifle dull as it is?" Scott coughed discreetly, picking up a muffin and biting into it. "The nightlife deserves more...interesting people to grace its avenues, I believe." He smirked, hoping the desired effect was achieved. "It gets boring after a while, seeing the same party people now and again, drunkards and druggies binging all night. I could use someone more mysterious in the social circle. Would make for hella of an ice breaker, don't you think?" He joked, torn between chastising himself for his boldness or pride for doing something for himself once and not for the likes of his grandfather or fiancee.
As Arthur asked if he needed anything, an idea suddenly occurred to Scott. This was his ticket out. His free pass from the powers that be. The icing on top of a very high, precariously balancing multiple-tier cake. Somehow, the odds had worked in his favor. At first, he'd just called Natalie and bailed on dinner since he knew that he'd be too preoccupied with thinking about this lovely stranger before him. A brooding, contemplative session of wondering and speculating about Arthur, and how he knew little else about the guy except for that first name and the delicious curve of his body. Maybe a quick wank in the shower, the effects of thinking about said body. But now, he had an opportunity. And he wasn't going to let himself be called Scott Calder, Charmer Extraordinaire, for nothing.
"What I need, or like, is..." He paused. "an invitation. For you." Scott reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, which he'd draped across the back of his bar stool, and fished out a slip of stationery. "I do lose the motivation to hit the town and go clubbing every now and then, especially if my companions aren't worthwhile." He flashed a cheeky smile, sliding it across the table and hoping he'd take the hint. "I do believe you can help me with that, though. That's my calling card," He said, strangely paranoid. Wanting to get this perfect once and for all and not caring how much of a blundering fool he'd look like in the process.
"If it's to your fancy, you can ring me up when your shift's done. It would be nice to have some good company for a change." Bloody hell, may Lady Luck have mercy on this poor soul for once... ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Ｔｈａｔｄｏｅｓｎ'ｔ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ｉｎ ｍｅ | Cafe | Arhur | Half of a Burberry suit | Daring | ( ooc: Argh. Cramming. CRAMMIIING. )
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Posted: Tue Jan 08, 2013 8:19 am
posting style by: ilyasviel16location ♦ serving a table, then hiding in the kitchen
emotion ♦ coy, exicted
companion ♦ the blonde male
attire ♦ white cotton shirt with sleeves until the elbows, gray skinny jeans, black Converse, cafe waist-down apron
updownArthur let out a short laugh, a rich, melodic sound embodying the surprised mirth he didn't really quite feel underneath the acting. Arthur was used to fabricating his emotions and expressions, so much that what he felt inside usually felt second-substance to him, like these real emotions were the ones he were faking. He decided, however, to be up-front about his answer. He's been wanting to voice this out for quite some time, but Steph had always ignored him. She was a right b|tch, that girl. Always trying to get her way and never listening to him and his needs. "S'not really as interesting nowadays, with the same faces and whatnot, as you've already said." He averted his eyes, not from embarrassment nor from bashfulness, but from amusement. "I suppose you could I've seen my own share of 'ice breakers,' and it's not really something I wish to frequent." A small upturn of the corner of his lips came alongside this statement. And it was true. Steph was awfully well-known in the RLD, and since they were close, so was he. But his reputation was something he wasn't proud of.
updownHe reckoned it was a bet or something on Steph's part, but whenever he was down there for a few tentative shots -not that he's had much- certain people who batted for both teams tried to woo him. And considering the fact that has no experience in the frolicking fields in the past, they were always turned down. So, yes, his reputation was pretty much the mysterious bystander who turned down even the most striking of men.
updownArthur's blue-black orbs flicked briefly to the card that was nonchalantly slipped across the table. A lone chuckle escaped his lips. He certainly wasn't entirely keen on entering the RLD anytime soon, but there was this inner pull inside of him telling him to just screw everything and go with the charming man; he was 21, he could take care of himself. But there was also the small voice inside the darkest corners of his head to blatantly reject him; he didn't even know his name.
updownBut that was good part in it. In a few weeks, or months, whatever, he would surely be headed off to Cambridge -yes, there was certainly no doubt about it- and this would be one of his last few chances to unwind. Willingly, since a certain someone would be dragging him off somewhere. So he decided to take the bait, but something bold in him rose and took over.
updownArthur pressed two fingers to the card on the table, and seemed to pause briefly, as if he was contemplating on taking it or not. A playful smirk adorned his youthful face. "My apologies, sir, but it seems my schedule for tonight has been reserved by a certain blonde." He fished the male's receipt for the muffins and the espresso from his notepad and slid it across the table, like how the man himself had done so earlier. "Your bill. Enjoy, and have a pleasant day."
updownHis eyes sought the receipt, where he had written his number earlier, inconspicuously, when he was at the counter. Then they traveled up to the male's golden amber eyes, holding them for a few seconds, as if trying to send an unspoken message. He nodded his head in a gesture of goodbye and sauntered his way into the kitchen, letting the door close behind him firmly before leaning on it, a horrified look taking over his features, a dark red flush coloring his face.
updownArthur, deep inside, was wondering where the hell he fished those moves out from.
ｊｕｓｔ ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ ｔｈｏｓｅ ｅｙｅｓ, ｔａｋｅ ｍｅ ａｗａｙ
ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ ｉ ｃａｎ'ｔ ｔａｋｅ ｔｈｉｓ ｐａｉｎxxxxxxxxxxx ( ooc: Asdf, coy!Art is too much for me. /asdfangirling ) xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Posted: Wed Jan 09, 2013 5:01 am
Ｔｈｉｓ ｉｓ ｈｏｗ Ｉ'ｍ ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ ｂｅ Ｉｎ ａ ｌａｎｄ ｏｆ ｍａｋｅ-ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
There was always this moment Scott had heard about in the dating world, a concept birthed from, strangely enough, Einstein's law of speed. Time moved in different ways, going from agonizing eternities to the blink of an eye. And there was this one thing his friends, whenever they talked about their dating woes, called the Pause.
The Pause was notoriously named after those few seconds, right after you took all your nerve and centered it on one momentous question--the one that could make you or break you. Well, at least where it concerned the person you fancied, and how things would go on from then on out. Scott had learned that those few seconds could be the most screwed up seconds ever of lying in wait, where waiting for someone's answer in the span of a few heartbeats could feel like a lifetime. It all sounded so...unreal, if he were being honest with himself. And kind of unbelievable, since the blonde had never been a big believer in freaking out over things much less people. Which is why he'd scoffed at the the mere mention of the Pause, everytime it was brought up.
Now, he had good reason to believe that life was biting him back in the a|s. One of the things he'd totally lost faith in, that he mocked and teased his heart-wrenched friends with over drinks and cigars, was actually happening to him. And he knew what the symptoms were--sweaty palms. Racing heartbeat. The thudding of his pulse hammering somewhere deep inside. His stomach feeling like it was on the verge of regurgitating everything it had ingested in the past five hours. And...the sound of a ticking clock overpowering his thoughts. Yep, this was his Pause. To think, such a memorable experience had happened to him...with a waiter he'd met barely half an hour ago. Most people would bet their money that it would've been someone else--like his fiancee or whatnot. But things aren't always as they seem, though.
Arthur's voice, and laugh for that matter, was a welcoming, melodic sound, and he tried to listen to whatever the other male was saying instead of trying to focus on the worry chewing on his insides. Luckily, he found it within himself to actually comprehend what he way saying, with good reason. If he wasn't mistaken, it wasn't the first time this had happened to Arthur. And it certainly wouldn't be last, he was sure of it. Apparently, this also caused some hesitation on his part, since it seemed like he was picky when it came to his choice of company. And that he'd had a lot of...unpleasant encounters in the past before him. Scott resolved that he could change that, and was going to try his damn best when--if--Arthur accepted his invitation to go out.
However, the renowed Calder heir, someone who worked harder than he played, and earned most of his success through grit and toil, and ultimately deserved it; felt his heart drop down into his stomach like a hundred pound dumbbell as Arthur eyed the calling card coolly, chuckled amusedly, and fingered it lightly for a moment before turning back to his notepad. A sense of what one could only call rejection lingered in the air, and it took a heroic effort for Scott to compose himself enough that his disappointment wouldn't be written all over his face. He could barely hear what Arthur had said after, but he did vaguely catch something along the lines of an apology, and 'my schedule tonight being reserved for. Then he pretty much tuned out after that, not wanting a slap in the face more than was already necessary. He was in the middle of wondering whether it would be too cheap a shot to just throw some bills onto the table and bolt for it, when he had a sort of late reaction.
His eyes landed on the piece of paper in front of him, his bill. Aside from some neatly punched in numbers and the appropriate listing of amounts that needed to be paid, and his gaze stopped at a small, elegant scrawl at the bottom of the page. Whether there was, against all odds, someone's number written on it. A number that Scott was sure he'd have no chance of receiving, at least not from who he'd been hoping to get it from. He scanned the digits, mouthing them silently in shock. Yes, that was the correct 11-digit format. It wasn't a fake number. It...it was Arthur's number.
Then, it became clear to him, and he started piecing it together. What Arthur had said, before making his parting statements and scurrying off to the kitchen. The whole of it. "A certain blonde." He'd said. And maybe it was just a strange, new way of flirting, but Scott was pretty sure he himself was blonde. And with a free night to spare. Arthur had been talking about him. And had given him his number. He wanted Scott to show him a good time. Hell, he was planning to do a lot more than that.
A grin the size of the Big Ben lit up his face, and he reached for his phone, saving the number scrawled onto the receipt into his contacts. Then, along with his wallet, after getting the right amount of payment, he grabbed a pen and flipped the receipt over, scribbling something onto it. And for good measure, he added his own number as well, listing it down perfectly from memory. Then, getting up with a satisfied smirk, made his way over to the door and mauevered through it, but not before throwing one last glance to the Employees Only door. Where, on the other side, was Arthur. He had a lot to get ready for.
"I didn't leave a tip just yet. I'll give you what's due to to you in a little bit. Meet me after your shift? Text me the time and place. xx Scott. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Ｔｈａｔｄｏｅｓｎ'ｔ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ｉｎ ｍｅ | Cafe | Arthur | Half of a Burberry suit | Excited | ( ooc: Trying to get into a writing mood. //puts on random music and types furiously )
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Posted: Wed Jan 09, 2013 7:50 am
posting style by: ilyasviel16location ♦ talking to Hank, then waiting for the 'blonde male'
emotion ♦ anxious
companion ♦ Hank, then no one
attire ♦ look down
updownArthur's freaked out eyes met Hank's amused ones. "I cannot believe I. Just. Did. That." Hank, the bas|ard, whistled. "Me neither, mate. And here I thought you were going to stay in that closet forever. We should celebrate." He eyed Arthur teasingly, a cheeky grin gracing his features. Arthur's stomach plummeted. "No, no, no, you are. Not. Telling. Steph. Aaaand, I may have or may have not agreed to go out with him." His nose crinkled. Hank clapped and did a poor imitation of the blonde male's wolf whistle, ignoring outright the dry look he got from Arthur. "Okay, I won't tell." His green eyes looked Arthur up and down. "You need help with what you're going to wear?"
updownArthur's head hung. "Yeah, I think. Thanks, Hank." He failed to see the thumbs-up the older male gave towards his direction.
- - - T i m e - s k i p - - - -
updown'7, in front of the cafe.' His text message had been short and simple, and Arthur had resisted the urge to cancel. He was no good in these kinds of things, since he never went through the asking-a-girl-out stage of the adolescent years. High school had been a time for him to mourn over the death of his mother, and it wasn't like he was in any popular position back then. That was Steph's job, not his.
updownArthur stood in front of the cafe, leaning on the closed doorframe of the cafe. They had closed early, due to Hank's insistence that he get ready early for his so-called appointed date. And since Steph was gone (she had taken a sudden flight towards some African country; she texted him when her plane landed) they were free to do what they wanted.
updownHis anxiety once again taking over, Arthur ran his hands down his pants, squinting at his attire. For all his years in life, he had never, once or twice, even dressed up for a date or anything even similar to the sort. He was used to formal wear, due to his young exposure to the business world, but going to clubs, Arthur didn't think his ability to dress up in a suit and a tie was going to be any useful. Now, Hank was the one who usually dolled Arthur up for any Steph-induced outings.
updownAnd, because of the female, he had a lot of clothing in his closet, though he never used them. And, the thing was, even though he was already 21, he still dressed up like a teenager.
updownHe was wearing a thin dark blue sweater, the collar wide enough to show his collarbone, the deep color of the cloth contrasting his fair skin. The sleeves were pulled to almost his elbow. On his legs were a certain pair of gray jeans that hugged his legs quite well. And, yes, of course, his trusty Converse. He and Hank had argued endlessly. "I feel naked, Hank! Ugh, let me change paaaaaants!" His black hair was styled artfully, disheveled and falling freely into his eyes. As a nervous habit, Arthur
updownWhile he waited (it was just a few more minutes until 7) he looked up to the darkening sky and sighed deeply. He wondered, where this was going to end up, this little thing with Scott. Surely, the blonde wasn't genuinely interested in him. And although Arthur had no plans of sleeping with him just yet, his stomach churned at the very thought of him getting too close. Arthur was a boring person in general, in comparison to the person in the facade he had been showing. Yep, that was a bloody stupid thing to do. Maybe he should just hightail it out of there and not show up to work for a few weeks or so. He needed the time to revise and get ready for his upcoming schoolyears.
updown"Scott, Scott. Hm. Why is your name suddenly so familiar," he mused out loud to himself.
ｊｕｓｔ ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ ｔｈｏｓｅ ｅｙｅｓ, ｔａｋｅ ｍｅ ａｗａｙ
ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ ｉ ｃａｎ'ｔ ｔａｋｅ ｔｈｉｓ ｐａｉｎxxxxxxxxxxx ( ooc: /shotdownfromthesky ) xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Posted: Thu Jan 10, 2013 5:15 am
Ｔｈｉｓ ｉｓ ｈｏｗ Ｉ'ｍ ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ ｂｅ Ｉｎ ａ ｌａｎｄ ｏｆ ｍａｋｅ-ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Whenever a new employee entered the office, there was always a sort of ritual that was followed. Not anything too spectacular though, just some introductions and subsequent 'lowdowns' on the people you'd just met. Some insight on famous inside jokes that had plagued the offices for years and years. And also, the info on the superiors. Who, around the Calder Group of Companies, were like the Plastics: teen executive royalty. In the sense that they were older, sharper and way, way richer. Well, with the exception of one Scott Calder, who was certainly an attractive enough bloke to be aptly termed as a hot topic.
Mr. Calder was always talked about in the offices--and not solely for his good looks. Not even for the way he suddenly popped into the playing field and rose quite quickly in the business world, though that was also a considerable factor in the rumor mill. No, most of what his minions tittle-tattled about was what it was like having him as a boss. And they were usually tales to behold. Scott was always a man with a plan, scheduling his work in advance, meticulously keeping track of every minor detail in the company, every little opportunity for a business proposition under his sleeve. He always had an itinerary, and could never go a day without unwittingly pressuring his poor, faint-hearted assistant Felix into an early heart attack.
Pretty much like he was doing now. "Felix," Scott murmured into his phone, cradling it between his shoulder and his ear as he maneuvered himself into his flat. "I need your help." He admitted, for once waiting for his assistant's bumbling reply. "A-are you coming b-back to the office, sir?" Scott waved him off, shaking his head before realizing that the other male couldn't see it.
"Hush, hush, Felix. It isn't that, don't get your knickers in a bunch. I'm going out, actually. I have some, uh...errands to run, and some small town investors to meet--from Worthington, yes. Need to look at some potential suburban franchises." He decided it would be best to feed him the same excuse he'd given Natalie, but add a little more something to it. After all, he did need a reasonable excuse as to why he needed Felix's help. Besides, if Nat found out, she wouldn't mind. She hardly gave a blooming f|ck with his work-related concerns. And partly because he had this sneaking suspicion that Felix was more than a little bent.
"Of course, Mr. Calder." Felix replied. "Is there anything I can do? Perhaps send for a town car?" Scott hummed in assent. "Why, there bloody well is, Felix!" He started pacing idly around his flat, before eventually stopping his closet. Eyeing it in what looked to be dread, he muttered, "Thing is, Felix, I seem to have lost my sense of fashion today. When I meet those, um, investors, I wouldn't want to look like I'd done a bodge job of dressing myself, do I not?" Felix stammered something that sounded like a yes and Scott grinned. "Brill. Now, all you have to do, since you can't take a dekko at my closet, is give me some advice on what I should wear, and what I should not. Perhaps some hair help too, since it's quite frankly, a lost cause."
Needless to say, the next half hour was spent with Felix abandoning his post at the desk outside Scott's office, and locking himself up in the male's loo to give what could only be blatantly put as fashion advice to his boss. The surreality of it, really. Eventually, Scott had ended up with a midnight blue blazer, yet it still looked casual under his steel gray button-down shirt. He decided to forgo a tie this time, and wore stone-washed denim jeans instead of slacks. A pair of Oxfords peeped out on his feet. Giving his thanks to Felix as he rushed out the door, the said male could only mutter, "Yes, well, um, the best of British to you, then, sir..." before the phone was promptly hung up on him.
Having just the right amount of time to spare, Scott strolled leisurely down the street, inhaling the crisp fresh air. He didn't live that far away from the CGC, so it was only true enough that the cafe was pretty close to home as well. Eventually, he spotted Arthur idling in front of the shop's entrance--which he noticed vaguely, was closed. In such a commercial district, a place closing this early was out of the question. A lot of money that could've been earned would have gone for naught. Shrugging it off, though, he advanced and gave a sly grin, cocking his brow at the other in salutations.
"Evening," he murmured in greeting. Despite himself though, a sort of genuine smile creeped across his face as he looked his date in the eye. "Ah, you can't imagine how glad I am right now. It feels like it's been ages since I've been out and had a bender." He mentally winced at that last part, hoping that Arthur took the word 'multiple meanings' to heart, since he'd meant 'drinking session' and not...well.
Trying to cover up his blurb, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and made to leave. "Fancy a drink then, eh? It's on me, though. Tip for earlier." He winked. Oh yes, he was going to have a lovely time tonight, he could feel it. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Ｔｈａｔｄｏｅｓｎ'ｔ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ｉｎ ｍｅ | His Flat, Then le Cafe | No one, then Arthur | A wifebeater and an old Cambridge tracksuit, see above for the change | Anticipating, Excited | ( ooc: Urgh. Tas AP long test bukas at wala akong naiintindihan sa Trigo like ampuuu. xD )
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