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Post by damien allan forrester on Aug 9, 2011 2:27:16 GMT -5
Damien was sluggishly resting on his bed. He was wearing just a nice loose fitting shirt and some very nicely fitted trousers. His gilet was neatly tucked on the chair. He was lost in thougth trying to decide between Noelle and Veronica. He was sure that he liked both of them in a way he had not liked a girl in a very long time. He sighed deeply and shrugged the thougths.
Damien shoudl have been doing his homework but he didn't really want to. What's the use anyway if he was goign to be a huge rock star. I smile dreeped on his face. Oh yes bigger than Mana himself he'd be. Lolitas everywhere would love him dearly and want him even more. Damien smirked. There were so many places he could visit then. And so many girls to be with.
He get up and picked up his guitar and started playing a tune he had composed himself. He hummed to it. Yes it had lyrics but singing them out loud in here where that OJ could walk in would be impossibly embarassing.
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Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 9, 2011 2:35:59 GMT -5
What a good day.
That thought repeated endlessly on loop as OJ slowly made his way back from the reading room. He walked without any hurry, his mind somewhere on cloud nine. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed Miss Junko. And she'd missed him, too, which made him feel even better. There was very little that could bring him off of his high.
At least, that's what he thought until he opened the door to his dorm room and saw Damien up with his guitar.
He and Damien had never really gotten over their past issue. Knowing that Damien had... interacted with Miss Junko before set off flares of jealousy that even OJ, with his normal good temper and tendency to avoid conflict, couldn't resist. They'd been content to just ignore each other while Miss Junko was gone. But in reality, OJ kind of missed his playful friend. Sure, Damien could be a bit crass sometimes, but OJ didn't have to walk around eggshells with him. It was refreshing.
Today was a good day. And OJ was in a really good mood. "You're up early," he commented blandly as he strolled over to his bed. He laid down and put his hands behind his head. "Did you write that song yourself?" he asked, closing his eyes and clinging to his good feelings.
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Post by damien allan forrester on Aug 9, 2011 2:46:34 GMT -5
"Yeah," Damien grunted and continued to hum. His fngers caressed the neck of his gutiar as the exquisite notes of loe and loss were released. The ballad was very sad and it made him think of her. Her rose coloured hair had always smelled like grass and cigarette smoke. To Damien it was a refreshing combination. And that safety pin she had had on her left earlobe had made him crazy. Damien chuckled. She hadn't been that cute but still she was the most awesome girl he ever met.
Suddenly he stopped playing. What was he thinking. That girl had dumbed him and walked all over him. He lowered his guitar with an anguished expression on his face. "Yeah. I wrote it. It's crap." His voice sounded bitter.
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Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 9, 2011 2:52:02 GMT -5
OJ's eyes shot open. He hadn't expected the music to stop. In fact, he had been enjoying it a little. It wasn't his normal style of music (OJ currently favored the epic Visual Kei orchestra with organs and string instruments and choirs), but it was still good music. What would make Damien stop?
He turned his head slightly to look at his roommate and noticed the pained look on his face. Uh oh. Not today. Today was a fantastic day, and OJ didn't want to have any bad moods and sullen feelings ruining things. But first he had to figure out the problem. "It wasn't crap," OJ said to the ceiling. "I liked it. Why don't you?"
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Post by damien allan forrester on Aug 9, 2011 2:57:22 GMT -5
Damien gave a half of a smile. "Painfull memories I guess." He said casually. "A bloke loves a lass and thinks he migth marry her. But the lass loves someone else and dumbs him. And then he changes." Damien didn't know why he said it. It just felt good to let someone know. Even if it was in this mysterious way. Another smirk.
"But that happened a long time ago... Before I met.." Quickly he shut his lips. They were getting along and metnioning a certain lady teacher wasn't the best idea.
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Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 9, 2011 3:04:14 GMT -5
OJ tensed up, sensing Miss Junko's name hanging unspoken between them. Back when she was struggling for money and had to... No, it was best not to dwell on it. OJ closed his eyes again and tried to calm himself down. Deep breathes. Inhale, exhale. It wasn't worth starting a fight over. "What's past is past," OJ said. He wasn't quite sure whether he was consoling Damien or himself.
But this wasn't about him. It was about cheering up a friend who shouldn't be sad. "Think of it this way," he began. "If things hadn't happened the way they had, you wouldn't be here right now, and you and I never would have met." Nor would Damien have met Miss Junko- but OJ tried not to think about that too hard.
"I'm glad I met you," OJ mentioned before turning on his side to face the wall. He needed a nap. Miss Junko had a way of wearing him out."That's got to count for something, right?"
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Post by damien allan forrester on Aug 9, 2011 3:11:03 GMT -5
"Yeah, sure. "I'm glad we met, too." He glanced at OJ. The poor guy seemed to be superbly tired. "How'bout I play you something relaxing? You seem sorta tired."
He grabbed his giutar a gain and started playing a tune his mother had hummed to make him more relaxed after one of his tantrums as a child. "Would you think that his could make a nice song if I wrote some lyrics to it. Something soft and so on." Damien voice was low so he wouldn't interrupt the tune. hs fingers were moving up and down the guitar again.
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Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 9, 2011 3:16:41 GMT -5
OJ couldn't help but smiling as he started to drift off to sleep. How lucky he was. Not only did he have a fantastic coffee time with Miss Junko, he gets lulled to sleep by his own personal band. Could this day get any better?
"Thanks, Damien. It sounds nice. Lyrics would go well with it," OJ replied sleepily, refusing to open his eyes. He was hardly aware of the words that were coming out of his mouth. He yawned. "I'm sorry I'm so sleepy. Just spent the morning with Michelle..."
OJ couldn't finish his thought. He'd fallen asleep.
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Post by damien allan forrester on Aug 9, 2011 12:46:52 GMT -5
Damien continued to play soft music as OJ continued to sleep. His mind was just wondering around. Naturally his fingers fell to the notes of his favorite songs. He played them idly, almost halfheartedly.
Finally his guitar fell into silence. For a moment he just stared the wall. "I guess a decent guy would choose beteween them before anyone gets hurt..." A chuckle past his lips. "Too bad that I'm not decent."
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Post by andrew jung oh on Aug 9, 2011 14:02:18 GMT -5
OJ was dreaming. In his dream, he was at a ball. A masquerade, more accurately, and there was music playing in the background. Everyone was wearing ornate, Venetian masks, and he couldn't tell a one person from another. His fingers went to his face. He was wearing a mask, too, and he knew that no one would be able to recognize him. He was just another part of the anonymous crowd. But he knew he was special. He was the prince character, after all.
But where was the princess? OJ couldn't be a proper prince without a princess by his side. He looked around, trying to pick out his lovely maiden from the crowd. But no one seemed to want to fill that role. Anytime he approached a girl, they would just dissolve into thin air, cackling at him. He was starting to panic. Where was she? He had to rescue her, before she, too, turned into dust. He found her. Her back was to him, but OJ instinctively knew it was her. He pushed through the swarm of cackling, masked dancers, a sense of urgency rising in his chest. She was in danger, and he had to save her! OJ reached out, hoping to catch her wrist- he was almost there, just a little bit more, and-
The music stopped. OJ woke with a start. He groaned and rubbed at his eyes. How long had he been asleep? Not long enough, by the feel of things. But he didn't want to fall asleep again. He couldn't quite remember the dream he'd been having, but it had left him with an uncomfortable feeling. Not quite like a nightmare, but something close.
"What time is it?" he moaned at Damien, too fatigued to check for himself. "And why do I feel like I've just been hit by a train?"
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