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Post by tim on Sept 9, 2011 0:17:40 GMT -5
nobody said it was easy ; ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ To be honest, Babylon wasn't really Tim's scene. It was too flashy, exciting and 'out there.' However, all of those distractions meant it was relatively easy for him to pass as the 22-year-old person he was supposed to be according to his I.D. He'd never really liked faking his way into clubs and stuff, especially not into alcohol, but lately he simply didn't care. If he got caught? Well, what was the point of living if you didn't spend a little time in jail? And nothing said 'your plan isn't working' to one's parents like hearing that their son had to be bailed out of prison because, obviously, living with his sister was not the answer to all his problems. Either way, Tim wasn't really worried about getting caught. Or anything, for that matter... after the first couple drinks, things tended to get numb, and he could easily cancel out the presence of his own mind. No wonder Carter got drunk so often.
Tim winced at the thought of him. He may have been pleasantly buzzed, but he could certainly still feel the pain brought on by memories of his once best friend. His shoulders sagged, and he hung his head slightly, wrapping his hands around the almost-empty pint in front of him. At least he was alone, now. Nobody paid him any mind here, and he liked that - he didn't want to explain himself. He just wanted to get drunk and be free of all the hurt for a little while. After all, wasn't it better to be physically miserable in the form of a hangover rather than mentally miserable in the form of an unfixable broken heart? Yes, Tim decided, downing the last gulp of beer and sliding the glass forward on the bar. "Hey, can I get another?" he called to the bartender. The only person he was actually willing to acknowledge the existence of.
¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ words: 431 notes: I know this is short, but I didn't want to ramble on about Tim's life for too long xD Hopefully you can work with it! outfit: this minus guitar + some sick kicks lyrics: the scientist by coldplay
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Post by dj on Sept 9, 2011 7:26:21 GMT -5
& I WAKE UP EVERY EVENING WITH A BIG SMILE ON MY FACE ( and it never seems out of place ) It was yet another night spent at Babylon for DJ. Don’t get her wrong it was a job and it paid well, she just preferred working somewhere where all the customers weren’t male and ogling at her so called rack. It was her third night in a row and it was certainly starting to get tedious. She was the only one working the bar tonight with most of the girls doing their thing everywhere else. To be completely honest she couldn’t wait for one of her colleagues to come and take her off her shift, she was more than ready to go home and sleep. It’s safe to say that 3 late mornings in a row really did take it out of you. Don’t get her wrong though, as much as DJ loved to party and loved that whole scene she knew when to take a break, although she would be back there the following night, she got bored way to easy to stay in every night. Plus she loved the feeling she got when she had had too much to drink. It was also a bonus when she woke up next to someone she didn’t know. She knew she had had a good night then.
Surprisingly it was rather quite at Babylon. There were a few men enjoying the view near the stage and the odd person dotted round at the tables. There were only 2 people sat at the bar, one of them was a middle aged man who was sat hunched over his drink fiddling with his wedding ring. Looked as though he was in for a rough night. The other was a much younger guy, couldn’t have been any older than DJ was but heck she served him anyway, the poor kid looked miserable and he probably wouldn’t have been here if he didn’t need to be. She watched him cautiously though, for some reason her maternal instinct was kicking in, which didn’t happen very often. She walked over to him slinging the damp rag over her shoulder. DJ leant against the bar ducking her head so she could look him in the eye. “don’t you think you have had enough?” she asked arching her brow sceptically at him.
[/center] WORDS,, 373 TAGGED,, Tim =) OUTFIT,, CLICK MUSIC,, i Was listening to my muse playlist when i was writing NOTES,, hey sorry its short, hope its okay XD TEMPLATE,, by PANIC! ITS LAUZ of CAUTION
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Post by tim on Sept 9, 2011 14:02:43 GMT -5
nobody said it was easy ; ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ It took a couple seconds for the bartender to come over, despite the fact that hardly anyone else was vying for her attention. Tim wasn't too concerned about that, though. After all, if you were rude to the person providing you with drinks, you were pretty much inviting a lousy night. He just sat and listened to the depressingly generic, techno-pop, auto-tune laden music pumping in the background. He wasn't sure what its purpose was, but it certainly didn't make him feel like dancing. Or getting down and dirty. Or whatever else the lyrics suggested. Fortunately, the girl tending the bar didn't make him wait too long, and he looked up expectantly as she approached. Hell, he even attempted a half-sincere smile, figuring the money in his hand would do the rest. Unfortunately, she didn't immediately reach for his glass to give him a refill. In fact, she was looking at him. Actually paying attention to him. Tim shifted in his seat, not in the mood to be scrutinized.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" It took a moment for the words to sink in, and he repeated them a few times in his head, trying his best to gain some sort of meaning from them. When, finally, he understood, his small smile was replaced by a half-pout, half-frown. "Don't you think how much I drink is my business?" he retorted, words slurring slightly. His eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance, and he leaned away from her. "Come on, I didn't come here to be interrogated. I'm paying you, isn't that enough?" Again, he reached his hand out to his empty glass, shoving it forward a bit more and lifting his eyes to meet her gaze. "Refill, please. While the night's still young." Now, his words were dripping with sarcasm, though he was obviously getting tired of the effort required to piece those few sentences together.
¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ ¯¯¯ words: 433 notes: quality of quantity? xD outfit: this minus guitar + some sick kicks music: open arms by journey
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