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 Posted: Wed Aug 31, 2011 10:23 pm
Classes began a week ago, and Tate already couldn't keep her eyes open on the subway ride home. It didn't help that right after class she had a four-hour shift at the bakery, all adding up to a very exhausted, very irritated brunette practically kicking down the door to her own apartment with an armful of day-old baked goods. Once she shoved the bread onto the counter and stomped around until she'd acquired a cup of coffee, she cooled down enough to tune in to that damn song.
Where does the good go, Parker? The good variety? She didn't even like music, and every time she walked in the door, the stereo had to be blaring the same guitar-riddled piece of s**t. She really felt like his sudden and long-enduring love for emo bullshit songs with repetitive lyrics would end terribly. With her head exploding, which would suck.
Because she didn't have time for her head to explode as she had two papers due the week after next, she set her coffee down on the counter and crossed the living room to Parker's door. For a moment, she considered knocking politely and not going in there with hackles raised and teeth bared. That approach almost never worked with Parker, so she generally tried not to handle him that way. Today, though, it was just the douchebag cherry on top of the <******** you sundae that she had to come home to him blasting this same damn song for the five thousandth time. Suicidal desire to listen to the same shitty song about losing something good drove the invention of iPods, in Tate's opinion. They were the saving grace of emo kids everywhere.
Unceremoniously, she pounded on it twice and then wrenched it open. "Parker," she demanded, one hand jerking out to the side as if she was swatting someone behind her in the face. All this accomplished was her banging her hand on the doorframe and cursing. "What do you think you're doing."
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Posted: Sat Sep 03, 2011 8:19 am
Parker had been employed at a cafe bistro hybrid near DCU, but his recent bout of depression had seen him skipping two shifts in a row without calling. He assumed he was fired. He didn't need to listen to the voicemail message from his boss to tell him so. And so what? What did any of it matter? Parker's life was in shambles, and he was beside himself to pick up the pieces. The boy had never been emotionally resilient once he let people inside. And that where Dani had been. She practically swum in his ******** veins.
Where does the good go? The good ******** dies.
In the grand world of exiting his teenage years and entering his youth, Parker had made the decision to put all of his eggs in one basket: Daniela Rymner. It was hard being a senshi, not that Parker would change it for anything. There had been many times where he had almost died, and Dani had, as far as he had known, been killed once before, surviving only by some strange chance. Even though she had in fact lived, Parker sent months thinking the one girl he had ever given a damn about had up and died on him. Just like his mother.
To say he was sad, grieving, and hurt would be an understatement. He was a man destroyed. He was a hollow soul.
But then she had been found alive. Then he had gotten her back -- and Parker swore to himself that day that he would never lose her again. As each day passed and each fight grew bigger, Parker never doubted it. Even when Dani got on his nerves and pissed him off, he never questioned their rightness for each other. And so, when things went back to being so good that his heart swelled at the thought of her, Parker proposed. He thought it was a grand, sweeping, romantic gesture -- the kind of thing that Dani would be stunned to see from him, in a good way.
No matter what he did, Parker could not get the picture of her face when he asked out of his head. It was not a face of joy or love. It was confusion. It was disbelief. It was negative. In that instant, Dani broke his heart. She didn't want to marry him, but she didn't want to break up either. Parker could not live with that reality. He could not continue to trot along at her heels until the day when she decided he was good enough. The boy failed to account for how young they were. He failed to account for a lot of things.
And now he was facedown on his pillow, playing a sad song on repeat, and remembering what it felt like to run his hands down Dani's body in the very bed where he now spent his nights missing her.
The door swung open abruptly beside him. He heard Tate's voice and murmured something into the pillow that sounded like:
"Mpmanshing pffeening malovwe."
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Posted: Wed Sep 14, 2011 1:35 am
He hadn't emerged from the room in days and days except to piss, which was the annoying part, she decided. She couldn't be annoyed with someone so obviously torn up. No, she could just be pissed at him and want to beat him up. The brunette looked at him laying on his mattress and found herself uncomfortably reminded of last September, the month when they had thought Daniela was dead. Sure, Tate didn't like her… actually, Tate ******** hated her. She was insensitive, she was immature, she was just not good long-term material for Parker. Only Parker apparently thought that she had been good long-term material, which… didn't speak well for Parker's taste in women, but then, he was friends with Tate, which said bad things about his taste in friends too.
She decided to change mental topics and cross the room to his stereo, hitting the power button to shut down the music. That taken care of, she decided to go sit next to Parker on the very edge of his bed. "I'm not going to leave you alone," she said, taking a wild stab at what he'd said. "Unfortunately, I like you a lot, so I'm morally and socially obligated to make sure you don't starve to death. Especially not in a socially unacceptable way, like pining. When did you last eat, dumbass."
Tate would not cook. That would be a recipe for disaster. But she would, however, hit up the guy down the hall or order Chinese takeout. Whatever she had to do to get Parker the Genius Boy out of his room. "Have you even been to work? That's an important, adult thing there, and it might get your mind off things."
Tentatively, she patted his shoulder. This was how you comforted people, right? In theory, she was right. In practice?… maybe.
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2011 4:06 pm
When Tate turned off the music, Parker didn't immediately notice. He was too lost imagining how soft Dani's skin was, how nice her hair smelled, how her cheeks got this amazing rosy blush when she was fresh out of a shower. There were a dozen mini-memories of her minutia that refused to leave his brain. With eyes open, he only saw things that jogged images of her, and when he closed his eyes, she chased his dreams.
It was unfair.
The bed creaked as Tate had a seat. Parker still didn't move. It was only after she patted his shoulder that the boy stirred at all, turning his red eyes and snotted nose to face her. "Did you turn off the music?" he said, squinting at her.
Way to be helpful, Parker.
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