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Post by Joana "Josie" Hayes on Jul 17, 2010 23:09:52 GMT -6
 
----LIGHTWEIGHT, MY ASS. the clink of another shot glass hit the bar, attracting some whoops and hollers. joana hayes, josie by all, shot her arms up above her head with a victorious grin. "that's five, bitch!" she yelled at the fat fuck who thought she had no game. didn't he know? you don't challenge a hayes in a shots contest. it's like trying to challenge newton's law of gravity. you will lose. the greasy man with a trucker's hat on looked her up and down and shook his head. she had to guess it was either because she was the only person in the bar that had a vagina or he was trying to think someone so slender as her wasn't showing any signs of weakness. it was her genes. blame it on genetics. but how did josie hayes end up in nonsense having a shot contest with someone twice her age at about two in the afternoon? it all started around noon when she was with her cousin, daphne.
"so, what's nonsense?" josie asked, combing through her black hair with her fingers. they were in the living room in daphne's house. josie was in front of the mirror, pulling a purple flowered head band in her hair. daphne was lounging on the couch reading a tabloid magazine. "oh, it's just this bar. not really our scene. a lot of old men are there now, tonight it'll get busier but it brings in more of the rougher crowd." josie heard daphne turning a page. "why?" she added. josie shrugged, playing with her hair in the mirror. "i just saw it when we drove by last night." though she had been really tired since they had just flown in from greece, she noticed the bar as daphne's dad drove them from the airport back to the house. "i think i want to go there." "really? i mean, i guess we could check it out tonight," daphne said, the tiredness and boredom was evident in her tone. dealing with a tired daphne was the equivalent of dealing with a hammered daphne. you just don't. "no, i think i'm going to go right now." the rustling of papers were heard and daphne slapped the magazine down onto her lap. "what? dressed like that?" josie shrugged again and looked at herself. "is there something wrong?" she stated point-blankly. she watched as her younger cousin by just about a year blinked repeatedly. "depends. are you planning on ending your day in a ditch or the woods?" josie waved her hand and rolled her eyes. "oh, please. are you coming or what?" daphne got up and shook her head. "thanks but no thanks. i may be an alcoholic but i don't start drinking at noon." hm, well, at least daphne had her priorities straight.
once she had gotten to the bar, she clearly saw that daphne was right. it was a bunch of older guys sitting at the bar drinking their beers. well, their usual cycle of casually drinking and bitching about their home life and work was about to change because josie had slid right up in between two of them and asked the bartender for a lemon drop. when asked for her i.d she just grabbed her boobs and heaved them up for the bartender to take a good gander. "these are my i.d." like i said, she doesn't beat around the bush. well, she got her lemon drop and downed like she had these for breakfast. now that she had the mens' undivided attention, one brave soul decided to challenge her. thus started the shot contest. you might think it would be a little awkward that she was nineteen hanging out with a bunch of guys that could pass as her dad, but to be honest, josie was use to this. very use to this. back in greece, she was an entertainer. a burlesque dancer to be specific. if you wanted to compare her that of a stripper, she will cut you. both of those professions are a lot different. burlesque was more of what you weren't showing that was the sexy part. stripping, well, you just put it all out there. doesn't leave anything for the imagination.
when daphne came to greece for her holiday break, it really couldn't have come at a better time. her name was growing on a lot of people's hit lists. you know that feeling when you're just so pissed off all you want to do is get revenge? well, she had been feeling like that for years. who would have guessed this forward and confident girl really use to be shy, awkward, and a prime candidate for bullying? lucky for her, she worked in a place that brought in the big dogs. the men that had five expensive cars in their driveway. what was sweeter was that their wives were just as stereotypical as the girls that picked on her. yeah, maybe she had sunk to new low, but she was sick of thinking they owned everything. after about half of her co-workers started hating on her, she sorta maybe slept with some of the clients from the club. that really hadn't been the worse part though. she found ways to get the wives to find out. so, in athens she was becoming that girl people found out they had in common. yup, it was probably time for her to go. so when daphne was going to go back, josie decided to finish high school finally and flew back with her.
she should probably be hanging out with people her own age then. nothing good could come from being 'that girl' again here. josie watched as her challenger took his shot, a little slower. he was losing his steam. "you sure you got that one, dick?" he looked at her bleary-eyed. "it's richard," he corrected her. she grabbed the next shot the bartender had kindly poured for her. she lifted it to her lips. "yeah, i'm going to call you dick," she told him and tipped her head back, the liquor burning as it went down her throat. she stuck her tongue out at him, "haha." dick looked at his next round. guess it kind of sucked for him to have beer before this. he raised the shot glass at her. for a moment, it looked like he had it. then the shot came back up, and sprayed onto the bar's floor. 'oohhhsss' rippled through the crowd. josie clapped and jumped up and down. "yay! i win!" there was cheers for her and she smiled. until she noticed someone at the end of the bar. he had dark hair and he looked like he was more her age then these fools. completely done with her new gray-haired friends, she walked to the end of the bar and slid into the stool next to her new target. "i won. aren't you happy for me?"
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[/color][/center] STATUS, complete CRED, format and graphics to me LOCATION & TIME, nonsense, december 2007 LYRICS, "she can get it" - kevin rudolf CLOTHES, here TAGGED, gray! I SAY, their ship name can be joy! or grasie.
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Post by Gray Cortese on Jul 18, 2010 0:49:07 GMT -6
 -----------------------------------------------------------DECEMBER, 2007. EARLY AFTERNOON. NONSENSE NIGHTCLUB.[/size] -----------------------------------------------------------[/color][/center] - - - HE WAS DRUNK. [/b][/font] again. what else is new? he was always drunk. when he wasn't, he wanted to be. when he wasn't quite there, he slugged back half a bottle of vodka, so it hit him faster. those were the days he swore, during his sober awakening the following afternoon, that he'd never touch another drop. those were also the days he was beyond wasted two hours after such toxic thoughts. see, it varied. most of the time, gray dominic cortese was drunk, somewhat intoxicated. but then there were the days he decided to get actually drunk. like when sober-livers decide to say 'fuck it' and do some shooters. it was the step beyond your usual level of sobriety. so, yes, beyond wasted was a good description. when his words slurred, his vision tilited, and he couldn't quite walk...at all. when he swore that he'd stop, that he'd join that twelve-step program - that was when he hit the bottle the hardest. then it would settle down into his usual routine, just being somewhat intoxicated. drunk enough to feel numb, sober enough to function. he was somewhere in between, it seemed. his mind was still working, so he wasn't in the hospital with alcohol-posioning. but he wasn't out, living his life, either. it was a mysterious life, his. it took him several minutes to actually remember what the hell was going on. he didn't quite yet. he was staring at the wall, the buzzed sound of the television whistling somewhere off in the far distance. okay, so he was at home. gingerly moving his left hand, the tips of his spidery fingers rubbing across the sleek flooring, he brought it to his face, rubbing the remains of the sleep from his eyes. passing out isn't a great place to start, dude. breathing sharply, as he always did in this situation, the photographer half-looked around the room, his vision still blurred. well, he wasn't completely sober. he was just dangerously close, which is the place he hated to be in most of all. twisting his lithe body from its face-down position on the worn leather couch, to a more suitable side-position, gray groaned lightly. he never felt good after waking up, not remembering...anything. the last twelve hours were a complete mystery to him. oh well. groaning again, not making any real attempts to get up, he continued to rub his eyes. what the hell. he never felt hangovers like this. not unless half of his liquor cabinet was empty, wishing to be filled again. did that mean he actually had to get up? to stumble to the liquor store? well, there was so initiative to get up. breathing another sharp sigh, gray pushed himself into a haphazard sitting position. woah, head rush. one hand on his head, willing the lingering headache to disappear, his other fished around for the arm of the couch. finally attempting to locate it, he sloppily straightened into a standing position. definitely didn't help this headache. it was a migraine, he told himself, not a result of his apparently toxic night of drinking. kicking at the hardwood with the tips of his converse ( shoes still on? oi. ), he focussed in on his surroundings for real. location: apartment he shared with his sister, indiana. where was she? at work, probably. girl wasn't even twenty, and she was married to her job. well, more for her so he didn't have to. clues to last night: nothing good. as he made the short distance to the modern kitchen, it became very apparent that last night had not been a good one. his liquor cabinet, some random cupboard beside the sink, was lying open, half of the bottles turned over, the over half hovering between empty and willfully empty. he continued to walk through the galley-style kitchen, noting the empty bottle of gin tipped over on the counter. it was the black marking on the back wall that was curious. not to say the remains of several plates scattering the floor didn't answer the question. he only threw things when he was particularly bad...he was only ever particularly bad when he was sober and depressed, or five steps beyond dead and depressed. wonder who got the end of that one. "you threw the plates at me, in case you were wondering." oh. closing his eyes at the sudden voice, gray stopped moving. he quickly ran his hands through his already messy hair, causing the ends to stand straight up. that voice was never a good one. clumsily turning on his heel, the photographer saw indiana cortese standing at the entrance of the kitchen, seemingly unimpressed. judging by her crossed arms, sour expression, and argumentative tone, she wasn't. gray knew his younger sister hated his alcoholism. hell, who didn't? sometimes he wondered why she still stayed here, when he was so clearly lost in a sea of self-destruction. but he usually had it under control, to the point it was difficult to even tell he was buzzed. you had to look close to tell. when his voice was clearer, his posture less slouched, he was in a worse mood. that's when he was sober; sober without any way to access his poisons. that got him grumpy. then darkness claimed the daylight, and he fell into his haze of moody depression - that's when he drank three times as much as usual and threw things at people. yesterday was a bad day, i take it. "did i hit you?" his voice was quiet, reproachful. he hated himself, sure. he hated hurting the people he loved even more. a quick roll of her eyes put those thoughts to rest. "no. but you told me a lot of rather self-esteen lowering quips, brother." indiana paused, a look of concern flashing across her hard face. "what happened to make you go so off the wall?" to be honest? he didn't remember. but, from more than a year of this, he knew it couldn't be good. even talking about it got him moody again. obviously something had been wrong, so why talk about it when you so obviously know he has no idea? although a shrug is never a reasonable response for indie cortese, that was just what he gave her. he avoided her sharp eyes, pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and shrugged. it was always the same bullshit. the same thing always made him go crazy like that - he got sober, he got moody, he got depressed. the levels to which gray cortese hated himself were shocking, almost off-putting. he drank to ease that, to push it into a blurred memory. when he went too long without feeding his addiction, those thoughts crept back into reality. "gray." her tone was firm, the sort she rarely used around her mentally-fragile brother. it always made him look at her, which he did. his light eyes clouded, his expression hard, he turned to look into his sister's eyes. "your lunch break almost over? i have to finish this client's order." it was a lie. he knew it was a lie, she definitely knew it was a lie. all she did was sigh, knowing it was no use. there was no getting gray cortese to be genuine after questioning his personal reasonings. he dealt with is problems alone, refusing to admit they were slowly killing him. "i really wish you wouldn't..." she cut herself off, knowing that she'd probably get the rest of the kitchen thrown at her. "i have to go back now. i just wanted to make sure you were okay." she knew he wasn't. no even close. a tight-lipped smile cementing itself to his face until the door slammed behind indiana, gray sighed the moment she was gone. turning to look at himself in the mirror beside the front door, he shook his head. was it even possible for someone to look that miserable without saying anything? his hair was borderline greasy, standing up more on end than usual. his eyes were a dark, clouded shade of blue; a dead color. the bags beneath is eyes were deep, something no amount of sleep could fix. his skin was pale and waxy, continuing to add to his hollow appearance. it was obvious, even beneath his loose clothing, how unhealthy he was. working the appearance of someone who had lost a substantial amount of weight in a very short amount of time, he continued to walk like his feet hurt. all in all? miserable, unhappy, definitely unhealthy. the distinct odor of tequila on his breath didn't help much. snatching up the keys underneath said mirror, he escaped that sinkhole quickly. closest destination? nonsense nightclub. seedy divebar by day, dangerous nightclub by, well, night. considering it was two in the afternoon, the chances of complications were slim. he could find his way there in his sleep, which is nearly did. slumming through the front door, he positioned himself at the very end of the bar, well enough away from the other regulars. they knew him, he knew them. they also knew to stay away from him when he didn't enter the bar with cheeky grins and buying shots. he was depressed and moody, so he was left alone. within ten minutes, gray was nursing his second gin and tonic, interested in the drinking contest the other customers were having. they had a new member of the crowd today, that's why they were so excited. he would be, too, if he knew he had no chance. she was hot, she was young, and she was also beating them. pretty much an a-plus in the eyes of a nonsense regular over forty. a light smirk played on his lips as this mysterious new company celebrated winning yet again. could this guys really not out-drink a hundred pound female? maybe he was giving them too much credit. smirking again, he drained the remains of his drink, turning his eyes to look at the bartender again. not even having to say anything, the photographer had his third gin and tonic in front of him. drinking this quickly was going to hit him hard and fast. for the moment? he was still moody. "i won. aren't you happy for me?" bringing the short glass up to his lips, he slid his eyes to look at josie, who was climbing onto the stool next to him. taking a quick drink, he turned to look at her straight-on. "that depends. what do i get if i am?"[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- STATUS, complete.
TAGGED, josie !
LENGTH, 1803 words.
ATTIRE, jeans, converse, t-shirt.
NOTES, heee, couldn't help replying<3 sorry it's so long.
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to nickelback - "burn it to the ground"
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Post by Joana "Josie" Hayes on Jul 18, 2010 23:25:54 GMT -6
----JOSIE HAD AN UNCANNY HABIT of burning a lot of bridges. mainly with people that were closer to her. surprisingly, she hadn't been around daphne to get sick of her yet. she breezed into greece a few times a year, that was hardly enough time to become besties and share secrets. however, the past two weeks of spending every waking day with her sort of catapulted them to a new friendship. she always liked the girl, daphne never gave her a reason not to. josie actually remembered her cousin from way back. when she was a little, ok, a lot chubby and had zero taste in fashion. josie thought of herself as an only child, (she had an older half brother somewhere out there from her father's previous life.) it was almost probably better she grew up by herself. god knows her sibling(s) would definitely hate her from something she would have done. it was sad that she barely had any faith in herself.
but life gave her cousins. a lot of them. one died, probably by her own father, (or at least those were the whispers between family members.) right besides 'alcoholics' on the long list of what the hayes family were, you could add 'crazies.' then there were the cousins like daphne and her little sister diem that moved away from greece. their family landed in america. her uncle derrik was all about saving third world countries from starvation and aids. why you had to set up camp in california was beyond her. daphne had it lucky though, when derrik went on his trips, he was often gone for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. if that hadn't been daphne's window opportunity to becoming such a hot mess, josie didn't know what was. and then, there were the cousins that stayed in greece. like the complete tool of what was petros and his whiny sister, sophie. both josie's and petros and sophie's dads were in business together. their father though was the sole owner, therefore that is why her cousins bear the 'heir' and 'heiress' title while josie was just, well, josie. not that she was jealous. when she was younger, she would just say how she'd marry up and pass an heiress title. like a duchess or something. or fuck, she'd skip that and go marry one of those england boys and become a damn princess. yeah, she had aspirations as you can see.
it hadn't taken her long to completely hate everything petros was and what he stood for. his pompous attitude about being the king of the world bothered her to no end. she grew really bitter when she picked up one of athens' local tabloid magazine and see petros' face spread all over it with a model from brazil or an actress from america. it was nauseating. petros caught her drift after awhile and would often tease her with 'so how is the bullying coming?' in which she would reply, 'does this herpes outbreak hurt as much as the last one?' so say the least, josie and petros did not get along. he hated her when she was weak, he hated her more when she had become super bitch. then, josie really hated that everyone liked to fawn over sophie because she was so goddamn happy all the time. she was cute, she was spoiled, and she modeled for her mother's fashion company. sophie took things too literally. she always wanted to be friends and would, literally, cry if you told her something as little as 'shut up.' josie had come to really hate people so fragile like that. mainly because, well, she had been one. sophie was never one to get picked on, but that girl would crack soon. that was no way to live.
the icing on the cake for her was when she was a freshman and she stupidly gave into the attention an attractive and popular upper classmen had been giving her. she hated herself for thinking everything was different. that a girl who had been tortured by classmates when she was five could suddenly be liked by the most popular guy in school. yeah, it definitely didn't happen like that. she guessed that she wanted to believe it was all over. that everyone had grown up and moved on. when the boy took her to his bedroom one friday night when his parents were out, she had known how it was going to play out, what she hadn't expected was that those same girls would have been hiding in the closet filming the whole thing. josie hadn't been upset about the actual part of losing her virginity because it was just something that would have happened eventually, no need to grow sentimental about it. it was the fact that it had all been a game, a joke, the ultimate prank to torture her. that was what hurt her the most about the whole ordeal. that they had just used her and her body for the pleasure of ruining her.
though she had been humiliated and abused for those ten years, she never told her parents about it. a lot of people always wonder why kids never tell an adult about the bullying. there are really a lot of factors that go into it. one being the fear of what the bullies will do if they found out you told and nothing comes from telling someone. you are pretty much better off dead. which just brings you to the next factor that your afraid nothing is going to be done about coming forward. more times than not, nothing is really done about it. kids are still going to be kids and the kids will still be mean. there is always the option of being removed from the school, but sometimes that's not possible and then you basically are just running away. josie was never strong enough to tell anyone. she just kept it inside her and it took a friggen sex tape to cause the whole thing to unravel. looking back, she should have somehow bucked up earlier to not make it get that far. would josie be this cold if she somehow stopped all that torture early on? that was something to think about, wasn't it?
however, josie believed in all those sayings like 'everything shapes us' and 'everything happens for a reason.' though, she was still trying to find the reasoning behind a sex tape, if she hadn't gone through all that shit, she probably wouldn't be throwing shots around in some bar in valkyrie, california. not that this was a glamorous life or anything, but she could still be back in greece. still wearing those god-awful thick glasses and donning the frizzy hair. she'd probably still be wearing shirts two times to big for her frame and somehow got herself into a good college. it sounded boring to her. maybe the type of person she was now was what she was always suppose to be, she just had to go through all that shit to become this. all these maybes. life was a tricky little bitch, wasn't it? however, she definitely likes what was going on in front of her. after ditching the men, she realized young boys drinking at two in the afternoon was going to be much more fun to fraternize with. he finished whatever he was drinking before he answered her, "that depends. what do i get if i am?" josie cocked her head to the side, her lips spreading into a sly smirk. cute. well, there was going to be no negotiating here. she just met him five seconds ago. she slid off the stool with easy so that she was facing him. one hand leaned again the bar's counter while the other balanced herself on his leg. she bent down so that she was inches from his face. "hmmm. how about..." her eyes dropped down to his shirt and flicked back up to meet his equally light eyes. "nothing, iron man." she stood up and faced the bar. good thing the bartender was lurking. "ok," she said flatly and slapped her hands face down on the counter before bringing her right arm up and gave the bartender the 'two' sign. "i want two... of whatever he's having." she turned and smirked at him. "and my boy here needs another." after the bartender started making the drinks she turned back to iron man. "these are on you, right?"
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[/color][/center] STATUS, complete CRED, format and graphics to me LOCATION & TIME, nonsense, december 2007 LYRICS, "she can get it" - kevin rudolf CLOTHES, here TAGGED, gray! I SAY, i loveeee them. and i had some major muse.
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Post by Gray Cortese on Jul 19, 2010 0:44:35 GMT -6
-----------------------------------------------------------DECEMBER, 2007. EARLY AFTERNOON. NONSENSE NIGHTCLUB. [/size] -----------------------------------------------------------[/color][/center] - - - SEE, THERE HAD [/b] been no elaborate history. there had been no slow build-up. there hadn't been anything. just a trigger and the beginning of a very long, very painful spiral. of what, might you ask? do you really need to? gray cortese had his share of issues, probably more than most. the biggest issue of all, however, was that he refused to even acknowledge the existence of them. up until the last year, he had managed to shove them all into oblivion. things bothered hiim, as they did everyone. but he always told himself that it was no big deal, that it could roll off him like water off a duck. so he forgot, moved on, and continued his life as a, seemingly, happy, healthy young man. and he had been. honest to god, much of his life had been healthy. a little awkward, perhaps, but nothing as dangerous and fragile as today. when he promised himself to remain uneffected, he remained uneffected. no matter the situation, he always had the power to move on, to accept it. it's not like he could do anything about what other people did. they may have been useless peons, but he couldn't control them. so, yeah, the answer is truthful - when confronted about the origins of his destructive alcoholism, there isn't much too be told. he had no history of depression. there were no psychiatrist bills. perscriptions were for infections, not to stop him becoming a looneytune. like he always claimed: no elaborate history, no build-up. it had been a trigger. that's all. one simple word that forced the young would-be photographer to ditch out on family game night, drive to the nearest liquor store, and spend the evening getting drunk for the first time since his eighteenth birthday, nearly two years previous. that was when he discovered the blissful feeling of numbness. while he had been happy and healthy, the buzz of straight liquor brought a real peace. he didn't have to think about anything anymore, didn't have a care in the world. he didn't even remember what this mysterious trigger was, only that it was a turning-point. he could think about it, sure; try to remember. but everytime that thought rolls around, it's eliminated along with another two-sx of tequila. remember how he had his own share of issues? well, he did. these issues just seemed to be appear once he began to abuse alcohol. it took awhile for him to settle into this routine, careful not to tip people off. his parents soon suspected he was drinking more than usual, but had no idea the constant buzz that fueled him every single damn day. it came with that buzz, those issues did. as the months passed, he was finding it more and more difficult to look himself in the mirror. he knew what he was doing, how fucked up it was. he was ashamed, too weak to even make it through the day without attributing to failing his liver. all too quickly did he truly hate what he had become. all those years of sitting at the back of the classroom, as the weird kid...fuck. what the hell was the point in that? he knew no one wanted him to be there, yet he continued to go? more and more, these toxic thoughts filtered through his mind. sitting on the floor of your crummy apartment, alone, at midnight, all that does is make it worse. and all it did was get worse. the only thing gray had accomplished in the past year was get really good at lying. he knew it was damn near impossible to tell how he abused alcohol. he was rarely near-sober around anyone he didn't trust with his life. when he was buzzed like that, he found himself to be slightly more tolerable. he was numb at those times, which is where he liked to be. the other times...it was almost unbearable. leave a sober gray cortese alone, and you were asking for trouble. it was the same formula: he got sober, he got moody, he got depressed. something broke everytime it happened. the photographer had beat himself so often, for so long, that he had broken long ago. these days was just slamming the door just a little more. it was worse when he couldn't find access to his clear poisons. at least when he drank himself into oblivion, the feeling went away. when he was forced to remain sober for endless hours, that's when he turned even closer to his inner-demons. that's when it was the absolute worst. he'd sit against the same wall, always finding some way to mutilate himself further. it was when indiana unlocked the door to find him sitting there, half-naked, raking his hands through his hair. the old mirror that had hung across the room, directly from where he had been sitting, was lying on the floor, shattered. he'd thrown an empty gin - no, triple sec - bottle at it when he caught his own reflection. he sliced his shirt with the remnents of the bottle, threatening to slice his own skin. judging by the marks hidden by his current iron man t-shirt, he had succeeded. that's when she had learned of his self-destruction, his alcoholism. he had gotten really good at lying, twisting reality to favor him. but even he, master of bending the truth, couldn't find an excuse for that scene. so he didn't hide from her. not really. indiana was the one person whom gray often threw various dishes at. as horrible as he was to her, as much of a monster he could be, she continued to refuse to leave. she could easily rent a place of her own, quit sleeping in his sparse guest room. but she wouldn't. a good, decent thought, eh? in the buzzed bright of day, he agreed. it was touching that she refused to give up on him. during the night, when he continued to beat himself broken, it only drove him farther from the so-called light. the more she refused to move, the harder he pushed. it was only a matter of time before one of his quips actually sliced at her, cut deeper than he meant for it to. until then, he could continue on his happy path of killing himself. hard as she tried, indie couldn't get gray to co-operate unless he wanted to. so she had to leave him alone to down the hard liquor in the middle of the afternoon. it rarely took more than three, maybe four, gin and tonics to relax him. once the liquor hit his system, the world was put back into balance. well, most of the time. perhaps because he had awoken still half-drunk, or because the previous night had been a repeat of his monstrous episode, this third one was doing little to help his mood. while his mind was slowly repairing itself, he continued to act moody and difficult. no longer on the brink of suicide. i guess that's a step in the right direction. he still felt the need to scoff at everything in sight. which is probably why his expression hardly changed with the added company of josie hayes. not to say gray cortese was the master of social graces - he was, in fact, the polar opposite. but, most days, he wouldn't have spoken a word to the fiery greek. she would have intimidated him. and now? well, now he wasn't in the mood not to be a difficult ass. a mere thirty seconds after his response, he found said female half on his lap. "hmmm. how about..." he raised his eyebrows quizzically as she surveyed his appearance. "nothing, iron man." smirking at her words, he remained quiet as she turned to face the bar. talk about forward. the same aloof amusement displaying on his face, he watched as josie ordered herself two of his oddly strong gin and tonics. so early? tilting his head to the side as he watched the bartender busy himself with the three new orders, from fiery greek herself, gray half-turned to look at her again. "these are on you, right?" opening his mouth for his irritable answer, the photographer merely rolled his eyes. gingerly pushing himself to his feet, he turned to face josie straight again. leaning forward, putting less than six inches between their bodies, he watched her. mimicking what she had done moments before, gray looked her up and down, the same steely glint in his eyes. raising his eyebrows again as he heard the bartender mumble about the drinks being up, he slowly placed his spidery hands on either of her hips. how long had it been since he'd been this close to something with actual hips? turning his head to the side again, he looked at josie once more before turning her body to face the bar. "maybe." pulling back from her, he turned to pick up his own glass, tipping it slightly toward the bartender. "iron man doesn't allow just anyone to stoop so low to drink with him in the middle of the afternoon. see if you can keep those down." placing his elbow on the bar, leaning heavily onto it, he tipped his glass to josie once before taking a sip of the intoxicating poison. maybe if he continued to drink, his mood would improve. doubtful. but he could try. had been for over a year now.[/font][/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- STATUS, complete.
TAGGED, josie !
LENGTH, 1614 words.
ATTIRE, jeans, converse, t-shirt.
NOTES, <333 hope i gave you enough to work with.
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to nickelback - "burn it to the ground"
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Post by Joana "Josie" Hayes on Jul 19, 2010 18:02:47 GMT -6
----SOMETIMES JOSIE WISHED THAT she could somehow see all the girls that bullied her. they would probably be really surprised that she was who she was, dressed the way she did, and talked the venom that had inside her. they would probably be surprised and taken aback. they were either nineteen or twenty by now, probably in college or failing at life because someone told them they could either be a model or an actress. at least one, was probably a stripper by now, another probably had a kid already. the reason why josie didn't have faith in them was because you heard about these types of people and how they rarely amounted to anything. that when you were that cruel growing up, you would have a hard time with authority figures like bosses when you grew up. self-centered brats was what they were thinking they could give fifty percent and expect to receive back a hundred and ten percent. they always thought they were perfect in high school. fluffing their long stick-straight hair in the bathroom while trading dieting secrets to obtain their perfect little bodies. gossiping about who did what over the weekend and how much of a slut so-and-so was for going all the way with some dude. funny that they were probably doing the exact same thing but was making someone else out to be the big skank. they were the definition of what a mean girl was. how twisted was it that they didn't have to lift a perfectly manicured finger to raise hell? all they needed was their mouths to mentally abuse someone? boys had bigger bullies that picked on the little guys and slammed them into lockers, or pushed their books down. of course, that was bad, but it was just as bad as being kicked in the gut when girls would tell you that you were ugly, and no one liked you. yes, josie was talking from past experience. in all, if she met those girls today, she was sure that they would take full credit of turning josie into what she was today. she basically became one of them. expect the difference between them and josie was that she didn't pick on girls that use to be like her. she just picked on girls that were like her now.
in all this time of being the one that was picked on, she never really had a whole lot of friends. would you want to be friends with someone who always got bullied? not likely. you didn't want some of that humiliation to get rubbed off on you. josie would have friends until the girls would start picking on her friends. and so, the friends dropped her faster than she could have said, 'but wait.' it was really hard to come to school and not have anyone to confide in. there were a few that would see the bullying going on and say something like, 'hey, leave her alone.' or 'knock it off already.' but those people never turned it around and wanted to befriend her, so josie saw them as just being as bad as the bullies.the friends she had gradually decreased as she got older. the ones she had in grade school were easier to have since they were kids and everyone was more carefree at that age. by middle school she had two girls that she would consider her friends, but it wasn't like they all hung out after school. josie had always wanted to be alone when she came home from school. one of her friends dropped the other two when she couldn't stand the bullying anymore and then the other moved at the end of the school year leaving josie absolutely no one when she entered high school. that was rough. all that time, all she wanted to do was be home schooled or how she prayed the next few years would go by really fast. she wanted out. she was one of them that hated high school. she did eventually get out, but it had come down to that damn sex tape.
with zero confidence and zip self-esteem, her mother, who was a professional dancer and owned a studio started teaching her how to dance. dancing had never really spoke to josie before. you would think her mother would have put her to work when she was really young so josie could be just like her mom, but josie had never wanted to dance. she was skinny, she was awkward. not really as exotic as her portugese mother was. josie hit her flow in a few week. her awkwardness was smoothed out and soon, it had been like she was dancing for years. her mother said it was in her blood, just had been awaiting to be awakened. it was the first the first time she ever found something she was really good at. she learned her flexibility quickly, there had been no limitations there. dancing really helped her too, she grew into her body and suddenly she just wasn't that awkward girl she had become so use to. josie believed it also helped that she wasn't learning tap and ballet. her mother was a bellydancer. it was how she and josie's father met, (there was rather a scandal behind that too.) but belly dancing helped you become intune with every muscle and body part you had because each one had a job. the way your arms were held and flicking your wrists. the way your hips had an even flow about them when they bounced to the beat. when josie moved onto burlesque dancing, it was easier with her belly dancing background. she knew her body more than she ever had. it's easier to dance when you have such control over your own body.
josie could feel the occasional eyes from the men at the other end of the bar. it was cute that they were jealous she moved on to someone more her speed. well, it's not like she was going home with any of them. it was two in the afternoon. she wasn't that easy. besides, she liked sleeping with rich older men. the ones that had more to lose. these trucker hat-bearing mid-life crisis boys were probably already divorced and living on their own paying child support to the two kids they have with the ex. who knew josie had standards? she liked iron man though. he gave off the vibe that being here this early wasn't out of the norm. the men down the bar also gave her the impression that they were use to seeing him but they never wanted to induct him into the group because he looked like he was just drinking to become numb and not to drink with the buddies. yeah, josie knew all types of drinkers. mainly because she dealt with drunken men all the time, and not to mention that every member of her family probably represented a different type of drinker. what type of drinker was she? she was a bit of a show-off drinker. kind of just to show that she can drink like a man than rather drinking with the intention of getting drunk. daphne drank to forget, petros drank to have fun and have an excuse for her reckless behavior, and sophie... she was a sad drinker. only drank when she felt terrible.
he got up and faced her after she asked him if he was buying. she stared at him when he got closer and bit her bottom lip when he placed his hands around her hips. yeah, she was definitely digging iron man here. he didn't say anything at first but simply just turned her so she faced the bar. if dick or one of the guys would have man-handled her like so, she might have tried to shove a shot glass down one of their throats. she looked down at her two new drinks and recognized them as gin and tonics. damn, these fuckers were strong. "maybe. iron man doesn't allow just anyone to stoop so low to drink with him in the middle of the afternoon. see if you can keep those down." yup, he was a numb drinker, she could tell. she started drinking the drink, not necessarily downing it like she had been doing so far. she licked her top lip and turned it into a smirk. "oh, don't worry, i can," she told him. she hooked her hand underneath the stool behind her and dragged it across the floor to get closer to him. she stopped when half of her body pressed up against his side and then she settled back into the stool, still facing him. josie didn't do personal space. she took another drink. "so does iron man have a name? i'm josie," she told him. she hadn't been all that interested in finding out what dick's back story was. she didn't really care. but this one she was curious about. she wanted to find out why he was here. "so why are you here so early? i just came from greece so it's really like ten pm over there. what's your excuse?" she took another drink, keeping it down. she wasn't paying for shit today.
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[/color][/center] STATUS, complete CRED, format and graphics to me LOCATION & TIME, nonsense, december 2007 LYRICS, "she can get it" - kevin rudolf CLOTHES, here TAGGED, gray! I SAY, their ship name is joy. i decided.
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Post by Gray Cortese on Jul 21, 2010 23:38:17 GMT -6
-----------------------------------------------------------DECEMBER, 2007. EARLY AFTERNOON. NONSENSE NIGHTCLUB. [/size] -----------------------------------------------------------[/color][/center] - - - HE LIKED TO [/b][/font] be alone. always had. for much of his life, gray cortese had been alone. why? most often, because he chose for it to be that way. it would be a lie to say his upbringing had been a negative one. quinton and naomi cortese were, if anything, fantastic parents. all of the insecurities and self-hatred had come upon him by his own doing. ten years ago, he never would have thought he would be such a picture of what not to ever aspire to be. and, just as all of his other baggage was all his own doing, this need to be alone could fall on no one else. lonliness just came naturally to the socially awkward photographer. ever since he was in grade school, he had never frolicked to parties and beaches and whatever else young kids were doing. he went to school, stayed silent in the back of the classroom, and went home. saturday night was spent on the couch watching trading spaces, alone. always alone. in the dark. he unplugged the phones, locked the doors, cut off any sort of communication that wasn't life-or-death. it was his natural state, being without company. and it probably always would be. you see, he had simply become accustomed to being alone. he never craved the sort of attention his peers did. and no one was really flocking to his side. gray had been born happier in his own company, and it didn't take long to transcend into his everyday life. of course his parents noticed. especially when he got older, and indiana was flying in and out of the house with her friends; he was always just...there. i think he had a party when he was turning sixteen. three people showed up, then ditched for something that wasn't going to waste the rest of their lives. it never bothered him. he got to see people during the day at school; typically, that was more than enough. the utter stupidity so many people had...it left him baffled. the uselessness of his teachers didn't help his faith in humanity much. so, by being alone, he happily avoided any of those awkward run-ins with people you really should like, but really don't. does that sort of attitude really attract many people? apart from a few like-minded thespians, gray established early on that he wasn't willing to put in the effort. being alone was fine, so why change it? what would you do if someone was like that? make a few stabs at being friendly, sure. but that got old quickly. he was simply regarded as the slightly weird kid with only one friend. if he didn't want to put in the effort to be social, why should anyone else? that's why the one friend thing worked. you had one another for company, and that was always enough. you dropped by without calling, usually without knocking, if you wanted to be in the same room as someone. pick up the phone if you want communication. better yet, install skype and do it all from the comfort of your computer chair. i suppose the introduction of the internet did nothing to help his anti-social behavior. now he had the ability to communicate without actually seeing anybody. he could be talking to someone in brazil who is a hell of a lot more interesting than any of the yahoos who lived in paris. sixteen rolls around, lame party kills any sort of chance of him caring, and you don't see him for days at a time. he would be too busy networking with others who rarely left the house. blogging, writting, researching...that was the only thing he needed now. and it was all accessable by the shiny laptop he had been given for his birthday. i guess it's good that his one friend was doing the same. alright, so. have we established that gray cortese is happiest left alone? it was simply in his nature. and you'd better accept that here and now if you want the chance to never want to kill him. so, here we are - liking to be alone. as he grew older, gray simply adjusted his changing lifestyle. everything adapted to his constant state of being solo. he did the same as he always did - rolled out of bed to live his everyday life, and then rolled right back home so he could relieve himself of the stupidities he had encountered during the day. half the time he didn't even bothering showing up for class. he stole the assignments off some kid in the university chatroom, did them gracefully, and e-mailed them off to his professor. he did everything that was required and got to live his life. what's so wrong with that? even with his shit-faced job at valkyrie's local bank, he rolled into work, faced a computer screen, and rolled right back home. at this point, everything in his life was so comfortable without other people, there was no reason to even try anymore. if he wanted company, he'd go to a bar and bring a girl home. he'd done it on more than one occasion, to be honest. anything else was just wasted energy. he simply did not care. want to talk to someone? find someone who's interested. and, really, all of his problems did best behind closed doors. closed doors. that being his apartment, late at night. that's when his demons escaped. wherever he was, they always showed up at the same time. it's most polite to do so alone, as to not disturb anyone, yes? once or twice, he had hit a stone-cold sobriety, fell into his moody state and said 'fuck all' to everything else. it was rather off-putting. and, you guessed it, the one thing to do to put things back on track is to shove those demons back where they belong - out of sight and out of mind. healthy, i know. honestly? he didn't care leaps and bounds if his problems found their way out from behind those doors. he'd lost it in public before, probably would again. it was just less stressful to deal with things by yourself. less stressful, sure, but not always what he found himself doing. remember that bit when he was younger, when he craved some sort of interaction, he'd stop by one friend's house without calling? that happened sometimes. you can wallow in the shallow bits of your problems alone with other people sometimes. just seeing other people as miserable as you, just not quite facing the dragon yet, was comforting. either that, or it awarded him that sick satisfaction to know, at least, a few others who were as fucked as he was. i mean, what other reason is there to be in a bar in the middle of the afternoon? apart from grabbing a quick bite to eat, away from irritating little squirts, he couldn't think of any. the only times gray found himself in some divebar in the daylight was to do just this - wade in the shores of the dragon's lair, just waiting for the stupid beast to come and show itself. by then, let's hope he's too far-gone to remember how stupid of an idea it is to slay that dumb dragon in the first place. today, he was trying to forget about that dragon altogether. let's change it up a bit, interact with people who obviously don't think they have problems, too. as he stared at josie, it became obvious that there was a reason she was here, too. no one came into nonsense while looking around town. bare, maybe. nonsense? absolutely nonsense, no pun really intended. given his all-or-nothing attitude, he felt no shame in man-handling the pretty girl. what was she going to do? slap him? it'd be nice to see someone else do it for a change. his sister and that lady next door got stale after so many months. as he leaned on the bar, he half-watched as josie began to sip at her drink. interesting. "oh, don't worry, i can." why didn't that surprise him? hair of the dog was one excuse, being able to down so many drinks takes serious mojo. and practice. let's not even try to remember the days he tried to mix his different drinks. ended up saying hello to the porcelain telephone more than once. the same smirk finding its way onto his face, the photographer toyed with the straw of his own drink as she pressed against him, soon settling back onto her stool. "so does iron man have a name? i'm josie."he continued to lean on the bar, facing the greek. briefly looking down at his half-finished gin and tonic with the same steely eyes, he sighed once before bringing his head back, drowning the glass. where was this buzz he was craving? he felt the alcohol, definitely. he just didn't feel any better. fuck. "tony stark?" rubbing the back of his neck distractedly, gray found himself looking at the back wall, examining the different liquors. "gray. pleasure, josie the greek." looking at her quickly, raising his empty glass to her, he tilted his head to the side. "i think we need shots. do we need shots?" he didn't even wait for a response before waving the bartender down again, "two straight-up tequila for me, jake." he didn't even get questioned anymore. oh, the props of being a regular in a seedy bar. yay for the little things. resting back down onto his stool again, gray looked over at josie as the shots were being poured. "i do wish i had an actual excuse. i came over from france a few months back. now? you wouldn't believe me if i told you some fucked-up lie, would you?" he pulled the shot glasses towards him, tapped one down on the bar before downing it. "i come here when i'm sick of forgetting by myself."[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- STATUS, complete.
TAGGED, josie !
LENGTH, 1717 words.
ATTIRE, jeans, converse, t-shirt.
NOTES, i fucking love them.
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to nickelback - "burn it to the ground"
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Post by Joana "Josie" Hayes on Aug 8, 2010 2:21:44 GMT -6
----IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN LIKE A LIGHT SWITCH. where, one moment she was all happy, flirty, and loud. the next moment she would be seeing double of everything. josie was only a little bit surprised she hadn't changed yet. it wasn't like she ever had signs leading up to the switch. it just happened. right now, she was feeling just as good as she did when she left daphne's house. she was probably a little more than buzzed since she was growing increasingly excited, but she wasn't throwing up or passing out, so she was good. josie wouldn't call herself an alcoholic, however becoming one was a disease that had been in her family for years. it was like, blue eyes and alcoholism. it seemed to be a two-for-one deal. though josie had been having wine with her meals since she was thirteen, she still wasn't sitting at home drinking a twelve pack a day. in fact, it wasn't like she was always drunk. daphne, was always drunk. petros, always smelled like he was drunk. this nineteen year old wasn't always drinking or wishing she was drinking. she did it for fun. maybe in another ten, fifteen years she would have a problem, but she wasn't having a problem now.
josie was nineteen and somehow got accepted into the academy here in valkyrie. she dropped out of her school in greece and according to the american school system, she still needed to complete one more semester before she could graduate. graduating from high school wasn't something she wanted to do, she just found it would be nice and easy to complete since she did come to america. might as well do something instead of lying around. despite her terrible schooling experience, josie did learn things quickly. plus, it was a chance of meeting more people her own age, or close to her own age since she was probably the oldest senior in the school. josie had been hanging with more of an older crowd the past year. dancers who were in their twenties and clients who were between their thirties and forties. it was a whole new ballgame over here and iron man here was her way of molding herself back into her age group.
her parents never really cared that she dropped out of school. josie's mother never even went to a high school. she was traveling europe with her family for years dancing. that left no time for her to have an education. josie's father might have cared a little bit that his daughter was so close to graduating, but he just didn't say anything. josie herself never really planned on going to a university either. college just wasn't for some people and that included her. she was just planning on dancing for the rest of her life. she was good at it, why waste time staying in school when she could be out living her life already? at least, that was her philosophy on that matter. maybe it was the way she was brought up, or something, but she didn't see why it was so vital to have a higher education past the requirements. her parents never pushed her into wanting a post-secondary school system, so maybe that played a factor into it's non-priority to her.
the reason she dropped out in the first place was because she got a full time job. when she got hired at athen's premiere burlesque club, it took up most of her time learning new dance routines and staying out pretty late. she had to drop out as soon as trying to balance school and a job got too difficult. she was completely sold on the burlesque club in athens. it literally had her at hello. the lights, the setting, the costumes, the way the club had a permanent smoky feel from the constant cigars being smoked really made her feel at home. this was something she could see herself doing for a long long time. she enjoyed every bit of it. it had been really fun the first few months. it was when she started making people mad that it was getting difficult for her to work there. her own doing, too. so, it wasn't like she could complain about it. she knew here in valkyrie she would have to get a job. she wasn't planning on freeloading off of her uncle and daphne. josie knew that uncle derrik wouldn't care and start treating her like one of his own, but josie didn't feel comfortable doing that. seeing as she had no idea how long she would be living in valkyrie, she wanted to at least start making her own money. maybe if she ended up liking america a lot, she could stay here for a little bit. daphne told her los angeles was only a two hour drive from valkyrie. josie thought once she got a job here, she could save money and eventually get her own place. as small as it would be, she couldn't live in diem's purple and pink room forever.
her lips spread into a smile when he told her his name was tony stark. yeah, she knew that was iron man's human name. it was funny that he was using it. then, he said, "gray. pleasure, josie the greek." she nodded, her eyes falling half close like she was thinking. "like the color. i like," she stated towards him as she raised her second gin and tonic at his empty glass. she downed hers with a bitter face as she ordered more shots. "yes, more shots," she echoed as she ignored the burning in her mouth. gray called the bartender by name and ordered two shots of tequila. jake the bartender looked at her. "same," she said, but a second later, shook her head. "no wait. a shot of vodka. bring some salt and a lime," she nodded, pleased with her order and the idea forming in her head. as jake went off to fill their order, gray told her his "excuse." so he was a foreigner too. they had something in common. though josie had actually never been to france, it was sort of her portugal neighbor... spain was in the way, who cared? they both grew up in europe. "i come here when i'm sick of forgetting by myself." she leaned an elbow on the bar and rested her head on it, looking at him. "really? because before i showed up, you were still by yourself. you just switched locations." she had been right about one thing. he was a numb drinker.
right then, jake came back with the orders. "yes!" she exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. she had both palms on the bar now and she looked at gray. "this one's on me." too bad he didn't know she meant literally. josie turned around and hoisted herself on top of the bar. almost immediately she noticed her fan club down the way shoot glances over here. even jake was lingering now. her stomach was already exposed courtesy of the outfit she decided to wear today. she grabbed the shot of vodka and handed it to gray. "it is time for you to switch some things up. when was the last time you had a body shot?" she asked him and swung her legs up on the bar and started pushing herself so she was centered in front of him. she dipped two fingers in the tequila and wiped it on her stomach. it was a little off, but whatever, she was making it up as she went along, because that switch was becoming dangerously close to switching on her. the salt came next as she sprinkled it on top of the tequila. holding the lime slice in between her fingers she pointed at gray with it. "lick, drink, bite," she told him as she pointed to her stomach, the vodka shot she gave him, and the lime that was now going half between her mouth. what? she told him this one was on her.
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[/color][/center] STATUS, complete CRED, format and graphics to me LOCATION & TIME, nonsense, december 2007 LYRICS, "she can get it" - kevin rudolf CLOTHES, here TAGGED, gray! I SAY, LATE. and my motivation sucked tonight. but hope the post made up for it xD
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Post by Gray Cortese on Aug 21, 2010 10:37:56 GMT -6
-----------------------------------------------------------DECEMBER, 2007. EARLY AFTERNOON. NONSENSE NIGHTCLUB. [/size] -----------------------------------------------------------[/color][/center] - - - TO BE HONEST, [/b][/font] he was somewhat surprised he wasn't on the floor by now. gray drank. a lot. anyone who knew of his habit could easily vouch for that. but who actually knew? indiana, his sister. they lived together - he couldn't very well keep secrets from her. if he attempted, she'd find out anyway. the fashion intern had a talent to know everything. it was fucking annoying. but what about everyone else? ask his classmates, his co-workers. whenever they went out after, they all off-handedly mentioned he drank an unusual amount. who has three or four doubles in the span of two hours, when they have a life to re-live early the next day? it happened everytime. and he was more than used to it. even the times he was dragged out on weekends, people noticed he could down more than most people. his excuse? he'd been drinking a long time. those people who start at fourteen or fifteen? they can generally hold their liquor. nothing wrong with that. it's not like he would be lying. he did start young. just, back then, he couldn't handle more than a beer. just no one would have to know that. besides, he was twenty-one years old. kids these days, man, they like to party and drink, drink and party. many of the people in his life would tell you he drank, probably a lot. but what else is there to expect? he'll get it out of his system in a few years, and go along the road of boring life. really, sometimes, he wondered if he actually would get it out of his system. people thought he drank a lot. he did. they just stopped watching when he paid his tab and went home, often to down the other half of the vodka - polar ice - bottle. he knew a long time ago that this level of drinkin wasn't healthy. it definitely couldn't be considered normal. he couldn't remember the last time he'd been stone cold sober. didn't even want to. but, there were the times he wondered what he would be in five years, ten years. hell, even twenty years. would he still be fighting this disease? or would he finally have found the guts, and offed himself by then? was this really just a phase? hit twenty-five, and only touch a drop at art openings and book releases? it was different for everyone. he could just as easily be a superstar photographer, continuing to hide his disease from the world, as a balding out-of-a-job shmuck with a stained tanktop and growing beer belly. and anything in between. he wanted to know what his future looked like. wishful thinking. notice how he wondered if he could maintain his alcoholism, not successfully kick the habit. something tells me he needs therapy. because, you see, this sort of functioning alcoholism is complex. it's dark and demented, but it's also complicated, intricate. the normal rules don't apply to him. he can knock back four shots and walk away seemingly unaffected. but he can't sit around watching baseball, drinking a twelve pack everyday. he had to learn to strike a delicate balance. between appearing normal and healthy, and leaking more vodka than blood into his veins. he had to drink quite consistently, always high volumes. on the days gray wasn't off-track, he easily poured an entire two-six into his little blue water bottle. that was, he quickly learned, was his happy balance. to keep a steady flow of liquor throughout the day, he wasn't left counting the minutes until his next drink. it was the simplest way of concealment in the book. don't deprive yourself, or the entire facade goes up in flames. any decent abused of the pretty poison should know that. it took a long while to master keeping your secret from the world. had he been living with someone at the time he bought that first polar ice, things would have turned ugly much quicker. a year into it? he was an expert at manipulating a situation to aide in his everyday persona. you give and take a little. let people see you drinking, so they can quickly associate your name with alcohol. then you just let them think what they want. "oh, he can handle his liquor!" "i've never even seen him drunk." despite his reputation for always being around for a drink, gray had never let the people in his life witness him out of control. he never got drunk. not anymore. the happiness, the flightiness, that came with it disappeared the moment the drunk became his new sober. he just enjoyed having a gin and tonic or two to wind down after a long, stressful day - that's what they all thought. it just took a little bit of practice, that's all. but what about those 'off' days? he was allowed them every now and then. keeping up this perfect mask took a lot of out of a person, you know. well, we know what those 'off' days often look like - just take a look at his apartment, or ask his sister. the times he got out of control like that, he learned, were the times he needed something of a break. enter sitting in a dive bar in the middle of the afternoon. the others sitting at the bar knew this routine, many of them had similar ones. the daytime bartender knew, too. sitting out in public like this, drinking so comfortably - well, it wasn't difficult to figure out. and he didn't care. not really. who were they going to tell? the useless slugs here, they either had unhappy wives and no jobs, or they were just like him; taking a break from impressing the rest of the world. so, you could say he never really expected to be spending the afternoon with anyone under the age of say, fifty. he continued to toy with his glass as josie spoke, and drank. he definitely wasn't complaining. most of the time, yes, he preferred the pretty things hanging around him not to say anything. but she didn't exactly strike him as another all-body, no-brains type. she was way too comfortable to be new to this. he chewed on the little red straw of his empty glass, chin resting on his open palm, as he watched the stunning greek. he liked greece, the few times he'd gone there. it was pretty. and it was flighty thoughts like that which made him wonder why the fuck he wasn't on the floor yet. "really? because before i showed up, you were still by yourself. you just switched locations. see what i mean? she wasn't all that stupid. he smirked. an amused smile crossed his face as he continued to chew on that straw. "have you considered going into law?" straightening his position as he spoke, a frown soon clouded his face, pondering her words. "i keep up this facade every single day. sometimes, you just need a break from that. the poor losers here, they have no reason to judge me like everyone else." he looked over to the others in the bar, slowly resting his bright eyes back on josie. he shrugged, slouching in his stool, toying with the glass again. he only looked up again as jake returned with the shots. fuck, how high was his tab going to be? whatever. credit cards were invented for a reason. eyeing the tequila longingly, he shifted as josie began to hoist herself up onto the bar. tilting his head to the side, not saying anything, he merely looked at her body appreciatively. what? he was allowed to be a shallow jerk sometimes. what was with this town and being a portal for all things gorgeous? not that he was complaining. "it is time for you to switch some things up. when was the last time you had a body shot? hm? oh, right. she still had a mouth. and he hadn't told her to shut it yet. arching an eyebrow, he smirked again. body shots, he usually reserved for frat boys. but most of them didn't have a josie hayes in front of them. meeting her eye briefly, the photographer leaned over, running his tongue along the salt line on his stomach. awkward. clutching the shot glass, he downed it easily. the burn was so fucked. standing up straight, he leaned into her, biting the lime from between her teeth. wincing lightly at the mixture of tastes, he held the lime wedge between his own teeth for a few seconds before throwing it down onto the bar. remaining standing, he met her eyes again, reaching for his own tequila shot. holding it up, he raised his eyebrows again. "you're getting dangerously behind." keeping his other hand where it had been earlier, gripping her hip, he leaned closer to her, the shot glass right in front of her.[/size][/blockquote] ----------------------------------------------------------- STATUS, complete.
TAGGED, josie !
LENGTH, 1527 words.
ATTIRE, jeans, converse, t-shirt.
NOTES, LATE FTW. sorry the end kind of sucks. xD
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to nickelback - "burn it to the ground"
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