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Post by courtree on Oct 25, 2010 22:07:10 GMT -5
 
He climb out of the massive dodge truck, slamming the door casually as he lock the doors before pocketing the keys in the fitting jeans pocket. He walk briskly to the bars door, pushing it open, the quiet of it reassuring him he wasn't that late. "Afternoon Ethan" the familiar sound of the gruff mans voice called out. The boy spun to see the old man standing behind the bars counter, taking a wet rag to the tops, cleaning the surface. Hey Doug he spoke, his words quiet and respectful. "You know...I should charge you to use that old thing" the man spoke, the smile on his face wrinkling his eyes. Ethan knew he was joking. He always was when he said it. Then I'd stop coming here, and we all know you'd miss my company the tanned boy retorted, his tone sarcastic as he moved to the far side of the bar, "Cause your such a big talker n' all" the man quietly laughed a raspy laugh, as if he had smoked his entire life, which, he probably had. Ethan simply lightly smiled and shook his head as he step onto the stage walking to the corner where the piano was and took a seat on the bench, pulling the cover back and sliding it into the piano. It was just the two of them in the bar, the normal hectic time started in about an hour or so, which gave time for Ethan to play around.
The two had first become acquainted when Ethan had first come in here a while back, asking about job positions only to notice the grand in the far corner asking the man about it. He simply shook his head and in a gruff voice told him he could stay after closing and see what he thought of it. It took a fair bit of tuning, and replaced wires, but the old grand piano was up and working within two nights. Doug had mentioned a couple times that he should play a night, just to see the crowds reaction, but Ethan simply refused and that was that. Doug didn't mind though. Ethan would come in, play for a while, help get boxes from downstairs, clean dishes, play for a little while longer and then be on his way. Ethan did feel a little bad for just coming in here and using it without repaying him in some way, but Doug always said in his gruff bitter voice as he always did when he told him he felt as if he owed him, "Oh quit your bitchin'. I like the noise" then he'd get all soft and tell him about his wife who used to play, saying "It's like having her in here again, and for that, the debt is mine to you" and then he'd be all *cough cough* and back to his tough and rough talking ways. Maybe that was why Ethan actually got along with the old man, knowing he had lost, though Ethan never mentioned his past to him. Someone would be shocked to see how easily he laughed and relaxed in here, thinking the true Ethan would never show such an emotion.
Digits caress the keys for only a moment before he start, the delicate sound filling the quiet space, his mind and body only truly feeling relaxed when the sound swell through the room, lightly echoing, only adding to the relaxing sound. lids close over his pale pools, memorizing the piece by heart and feel, body lightly swaying every few notes. A light sigh escape his lips, as if releasing everything. Every person he had made feel less of themselves today, every complaint, every bad memory. It's like they simply disappeared. He drift farther under with each note, the dark caused from his closed eyes turning into the old living room, the small red haired girl sitting at the massive grand piano, playing the piece, though her hands were too small to reach the keys at once, so he sit next to her, helping her out, the once choppy tune flowing like it should as they both played, the sound filling the entire house.
Notes: Booooored
Words: too lazy to count
Muse: piece played
outfit: clickyy
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Post by jacq on Nov 25, 2010 2:53:23 GMT -5
It wasn't a fantastic job, and it didn't pay all that well...but it was the only job she could get after being convicted of a felony... especially a felony like "grand theft auto" that landed her in jail for three years. It was a good thing she didn't really have that many bills to pay because she barely made enough to pay the ones she had. Every penny she made went to board for her horse, and whatever was leftover from that went to the vet as a payment on the $5000 she owed for the surgery, leaving not even so much as a dime for rent, meaning Pinewood's dear little jailbird was quite literally homeless, a real pain in the ass during the colder seasons of the year, but nothing she couldn't handle. Most nights she spent either in the stall with the horse or in the hayloft where she wouldn't be found so long as she woke up early enough to avoid the people who came to feed in the morning.
Most of the time she tried to work the night shift so as to avoid the need to sleep altogether, but even the most exuberant people couldn't go without so much as a wink of sleep for all that long. Unfortunately, for more than one reason, she'd landed herself the day shift. She really hadn't slept much last night and felt a little like a zombie this morning. Nevertheless, there was work to be done. After spending her usual time with her horse, she headed off for work, still feeling a little like she was sleep walking. It really wasn't a very good idea to be half asleep while mixing drinks, but it wasn't as if she could help it. Between taking care of her horse and staying out of trouble, and working on top of it all she hardly had time to get decent rest.
As she walked in the back door she felt like her whole body was protesting taking another step, and her brain kept tempting her with thoughts of "missing one day won't hurt, you can just tell him you forgot" but on the other hand she knew she needed every cent she made, and missing one day really would hurt. She could hear the sound of piano music coming from up front, but it hardly registered in her mind. Sure, she liked music but she was barely coherent at this point, and there wasn't really much of anything registering in her mind at the moment.
Jacq trudged up towards the bar, and stopped as she stepped out of the back room, eyeing the pianist and the old man warily. Trust was definitely her biggest issue, despite having worked with both of them for a short while now she rarely ever spoke a word to either. In all honesty, she hated this job with a passion. Her co-workers were men, the people she served were mostly men, the cops who came to break up a fight or bust a minor were usually always men... it was like one great big sausage fest and she was stuck in the middle of it. Oh sure, she was probably exaggerating a lot, but in her bitter and overly defensive mind that was exactly how it was... but day in and day out, when the crowds came she put on that same face she'd put on every day when she'd been "dating" Beck, and pretended like nothing bothered her.
In truth, it bothered her a lot... the drunk and/or desperate men attempting to hit on her and having to force herself to flirt with them to ensure a decent tip. The only reason she worked here was for the money... and if she had some other way to pay the board and make the payments, then she definitely would quit, but she didn't, so she was stuck here. Not wanting to engage, as she typically didn't, she just hung back and watched the two of them, making absolutely sure neither one of them decided to come invade her rather lage bubble of private space. Unless it was one of the guys ordering a drink at the bar, no one was allowed within her bubble... and no one would be given the legitimate reason why if they questioned it. There were some things a girl just didn't talk about with people she didn't fully trust.
Hardly a minute had gone by when she decided that if she didn't sit she would probably collapse , and moved over to the bar stool towards the end and out of the way, and took a seat there, propping her elbows up on the bar and dropping her head into her hands in exhaustion. Slowly but surely, she was wearing herself into the ground, and one of these days she probably was going to collapse in the middle of doing God knows what and land herself in the hospital or something of that nature... but she just didn't know the meaning of "when enough is enough" and she wouldn't quit until she was forced to.
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Post by courtree on Nov 29, 2010 6:03:38 GMT -5
It was unusual that the boy get lost in his own thought, but it seemed each time he came here to play the piano a few hours before work, it was inevitable to not do so, each time making him more and more relaxed. The sound of the back door opening pulled the boy from his thoughts, but his digits continued over the keys, gaze not bothering to look toward the door. He knew who it was. Well... to an extent. She worked here, alongside him behind the counter, though the two had never even spoken more then two words to each other. The occasional low 'scuse me might have been said, but Ethan not bother to look too deeply into it. Though there was something about the girl that wanted to make Ethan just sit her down a figure everything there was to her. Such an odd thought coming from the boy. Who knew Ethan McCarthy cared about what others were interested in. The only words he didn't mind hearing from people were, Whiskey on the rocks or coke and rum, you know, that sort of talk. Most wouldn't even call that talk, but for Ethan, besides the small random talk him and Doug made, it was basically all he bothered to go out of his way to respond to. Sure he could put on this flippant attitude and charm his way into anyones head to get what he wanted out, but so far, the girl hadn't even so much as given him a glance. Intrigued he was.
He abruptly stop with the piano, the quiet of the bar just sounding odd to him, so as he got behind the counter, he pulled out the sound systems remote, the faint sound of music coming out of the small speakers mounted high on the walls around the bar. He keep it low for now, knowing that when it started to get busy, people would ask for it louder and louder. It mostly seemed like all the girls who wanted it loud, thinking the only way to attract a guy was to dance like a slut. Well, that's what Ethan presumed. He drift from his thoughts as he place the remote back down just as Doug brought up crates to be emptied, the sounds of clanking bottles being heard as he set them on the counter. "Who is she?" Ethan asked the man casually, not bothering to look in the girls direction, heaven forbid she know they were talking about her. "Hired her just before you took over. She looked like she might need the money, and she's a honest worker"
[/color] the gruff man spoke before shrugging and walking away. Ethan glanced the girls way, noting everything about her, the way she seemed to slouch, or maybe that was just her walk, and the way it seemed to look as if she would stifle a yawn as if she hadn't slept in days. It looked like she hadn't. And for once, Ethan didn't even mean that in a completely rude way. Ethan put the bottles below the counter, stacking the crates on the other side before he heard the faint sound of elbows hitting the counter top. It was like straight from a movie really. Painful sigh, elbows thump against the counter, head collapse into hands. The girl looked as if she was one of the regular drunks here. Ethan reach below the counter and pull out a bottle of cherry whiskey, thumping it against the counter top, speaking as he twisted off the lid. "Helps keep me awake"[/color], his tone casual and moot. If she accepted the offer to have a drink, then fantastic, it would be a new record in the two's working environment, and if she didn't, then so be it. He took out two shot glasses, pouring himself one, hovering the whiskey over the other as he wait for the girls response. Why exactly did he care? Ethan didn't even have a clue, but as cliche as it sounds, he had to get to know her. Notes: It's like four in the morning, my post is everywhere... Sorreh deary. Words: too lazy to count Muse: (or lack thereof) outfit: clickyy[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by jacq on Nov 30, 2010 0:17:36 GMT -5
Jacquelyn's lack of trust wasn't unfounded, though her reasons for not trusting certain people usually are. She would look for even just the littlest thing in them that could potentially make them untrustworthy and latch onto it as if for dear life. She had never learned the kind of things children were supposed to learn from their parents because she was a victim of the system that claimed to help abandoned children like herself. Unfortunately, it had done more harm than good in her case. No doubt a lot of people were helped by the child services, but Jacq had fallen into the category of those who just went all wrong. The chances of her ever being able to completely trust someone were quite slim. Having gone 21 years with never being able to trust anyone, or at least convincing herself that she couldn't, it was likely she would never be able to convince herself otherwise.
She hadn't been sitting there long when the sound of glasses and a bottle being placed on the bar caught her attention. She looked up at him with a scowl, Isn't that against the rules, or something? she asked, looking up at him. Needless to say, she was extremely careful about not breaking any rules or laws... or else, not getting caught doing it. She needed this job, and she needed to stay out of jail, so she would do whatever she could to do so. Truthfully, she could really stand a drink, seeing as she hadn't had one in ages. Alcohol was kind of expensive, and she didn't have a cent to spare. All she spent on herself was only for the essentials she needed to survive, and alcohol, unfortunately, was not included in that list. If she wasn't so cautious about it, she would have taken him up in a second.
She knew that she was probably treading on thin ice with being so... unpleasant, but there was no one there... and she wasn't going to pretend to be the flirty bar keeper until she absolutely had to. Of course, she wasn't really aware that the guy she was currently talking to just happened to be her boss... and she probably wasn't earning herself any points. While she was no suck-up, she would probably have been a little more respectful if she'd known. She might not have had many social skills, but she knew she had to behave herself when she was around the people in positions of authority. After all, she had just spent three years in prison, and if there was one thing you learned while in prison it was to never ever challenge authority and to just do whatever they told you to do. Granted, now that she was free, she was a little less likely to just submit and do as she was told... but she wouldn't be quite so nasty as she normally was. If she wanted to keep this job she was going to have to learn to be a little more cordial.
Really, she was perfect for this job, considering her name was Jacquelyn Daniels, and since she went by Jacq... well, it just worked out perfectly... or at least that was what the guys who were trying to hit on her said. She was good at it too, but she didn't really know that. As far as she was concerned, the only thing she was good at was stealing cars... and she wasn't really all that good at that since she had goten caught doing it. Needless to say, she didn't really have a huge self confidence, but why would she? Everyone she'd ever met belittled her and made her feel like she wasn't worth anything, and well, they'd succeeded in doing exactly that. She had given up on trying to excel at anything because she had come to the conclusion that she never would.
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Post by courtree on Dec 2, 2010 0:31:37 GMT -5
It was a simple gesture, not even that, it was more of an offer, and a good one at that, I mean, who couldn't use a drink before work? Especially working here. Some of the people who came in here were ass holes, douche bags, bitches....okay okay, you get the point, but a drink or two...maybe three, always cooled the nerves on the boy. Don't be fooled by his arrogant exterior, crowds of people make him sick, and the girls who think touching a mans arm is a sign of affection while talking to them need to be smacked. Just thinking about it was enough to put a disgusted face on the boy. He downed the shot before he spoke to the girl, her cautious looks only making the boy lightly laugh, "It's a shot, not burning down the building"
[/color] he joked, picking up both shot glasses as he moved back around the bar and towards the piano, leaving the girl sitting on the stool. He held up the glass, a simple move basically meaning "this ones yours, come and get it" as he placed it atop the old grand, taking a seat on the bench before he started to play lightly. "You play?"[/color] he asked over the quiet noise, not bothering to look back at the girl as he spoke. Of course three shots of cherry whiskey wouldn't even get the boy talkative, but it put a warm feeling throughout his body, making him a more friendlier person. Of course, no matter how friendly a guy could be while taking ones orders, it was the girls who raked in the money with tips. Wonder why. Kidding. Everyone knew why. Notes: shoot me now. Words: too lazy to count Muse: piece playedoutfit: clickyy[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by jacq on Dec 8, 2010 22:13:08 GMT -5
Jacquelyn's eyes narrowed when he seemed to mock her caution. No doubt he was one of those rich kids who was always perfect. Had rich parents who sent him to the best schools and gave him everything he wanted, so he never had any reason to break the law to get anything. Oh sure, maybe he'd done some underaged drinking, who hadn't? But that hardly counted. This day and age, drinking before the age of 21 was the norm, it was expected of everyone. His parents probably wouldn't have even cared if they knew. Granted that was a lot of speculation, but that was just how she was. Judging books by their cover was a major flaw of hers.
She scowled darkly at him as he picked up the two glasses and made his way back over towards the piano as if daring her to accept his offer of the drink. She did need it, and she definitely wanted it, but she felt like he was playing with her... like a cat with a string. He pulled it, and she was expected to chase after it. If there was one thing she hated more than people it was being expected to do things and act a certain way... but in this case, she wasn't so sure she could resist like she normally did. He was cruel, dangling the one thing she was in dire need of in front of her just to lure her into whatever trap he might have lying in wait.
She eyed him for a brief moment before sliding off the stool and warily making her way towards him. Hell no. she said with a scoff when he asked if she played or not, as if I'd have time for shit like that. Not only did she not ever have an instrument to play on, she'd never had money for lessons, and... well, lets face it, girls like her weren't into playing piano, it was much too tame. She had gotten herself used to the lifestyle that was always filled with excitement and the like, and anything less than that would bore her. If she wasn't so busy working all the time, she would likely be bored with her current life, but as it was, she didn't have time to even think about being bored.
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Post by courtree on Dec 12, 2010 3:02:58 GMT -5
It seemed to take forever, so he decided a quick glance over his shoulder would be okay, and as his pale eyes rested on the girl and the scowl on her face, he couldn't help but let a light laugh out, shaking his head as he turn back to the piano, digits never missing a key. Definitely cautious he thought to himself before the sound of footsteps was heard behind him. Her words made him laugh yet again. And people thought he had attitude issues. "I bet" he spoke, more to himself really, but it was in response to the girls words. Ethan had been raised in wealth, and like most people who weren't, they judged, though it seemed this girl did it more so. Regardless, it was definitely not the typical rich snotty kid. It wasn't really the typical sob story about being rich but being mature and modest enough to realize money isn't everything, no rich kids who say that really are snobby and need to be punched. To Ethan, money went a long way towards his happiness, but he worked for every cent, knowing if he accepted money from his father as a child he would hold it above him later on in the years, just like the man did to his mother. Ethan was the only one who stood up to the drunk, his younger sister couldn't see the bad in him and always tried to defend him, though Ethan knew better. As hard as their mom tried, no amount of make-up would cover those bruises. As a kid when he first started noticing them on her, he swore to himself he would make sure nothing happened to his little sister, and someone would have broken bones if they tried. Because of the loss of her, the only way Ethan knew how to take out his frustration was in the street fights, on other people. No remorse there.
He push the memory aside, digits stopping on the keys as he poured two shots, sliding one over the top of the piano, already knowing that she probably didn't want to come any closer then she already was. He smiled yet again to himself, thinking of how wary and cautious the girl was. Smart was all he could think. It was a nice change to have someone be stand off-ish with you when you were used to others immediately liking you. Ethan just had that charm about him some would say. He downed the shot, pouring himself another, offering the bottle the girls way. "Lived here long?" words casual and simple as he tried to make small talk. She didn't want to keep the talk going herself, but the fact that she accepted the drink and came over here meant something. Probably that she really needed a drink. Regardless, Ethan was fascinated.
Notes: Meh.
Words: . . . .
Muse: piece played
outfit: clickyy
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Post by jacq on Dec 15, 2010 20:38:12 GMT -5
Needless to say, small talk wasn't really Jacquelyn's thing. She would much rather never have to talk to anyone again, for fear of unintentionally saying something that might incriminate herself in the mind of the other person. She was definitely over protective of herself, but she really didn't realize it. He honestly didn't seem all that much like he was the kind of guy who would take advantage of someone like her if he knew anything about her, but that was part of what scared her. She couldn't tell the difference between the ones who would and the ones who wouldn't. Her foster dad definitely seemed like the sort who would, but her "ex-boyfriend" hadn't, but he was anyway, so she never knew who was trustworthy and who wasn't, so she settled for just not trusting anyone under any circumstances.
She watched him a moment more before gingerly taking the shot glass off the piano where he had left it for her and waited a second longer before lifting it to her lips and downing it with not even os much as a flinch. She'd been drinking since she was 15 years old, now that she was actually legally able to drink she had absolutely no problem with downing alcohol that was strong as what a trucker might drink. Her focus then returned to him as he continued trying to make conversation with her. She was really no good with having casual conversations at all. She'd been here for about a year, but she tended to avoid everyone whenever possible so very few people even knew she existed. She preferred it that way, in all honesty. The fewer people knew about her, the more likely she was to never be bothered by anyone who might have less than kind intentions.
She was undecided on whether or not she should tell him. She could really think of any reasons not to, but she was sure there were one or two out there. Jacquelyn really needed to come to terms with the fact that not everyone was out to get her, but the odds of her doing so were very slim. She shook her head in response. No, she said at long last, Just a few months. Okay so it was a lie, but she had come to be a very good liar. She had to if she was going to make a living off stealing cars. After that, it just became a bad habit that she couldn't break. It was just so easy for her to lie about it that she saw no reason to actually tell anyone the truth. After all, people had to earn honesty, and no one she had met at this point had come even close to doing so.
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Post by courtree on Dec 27, 2010 17:52:37 GMT -5
He was unsure if it was the look she had, or simply because she debated and thought a little too long on her answer. It wasn't a general thinking of how long you had been here, it was more of a, do I tell him the truth or not, you know, that kind of look. As she downed the shot, Ethan stopped playing the piano abruptly, the simple sounds of the keys halting, the bar going silent as he pull the cover over the keys, turning on the bench as to straddle it, facing the girl who stood off to the side of the piano. She spoke, but Ethan had been around enough deceptive people to spot someone's tell easily. He simply shrugged. No need to press, clearly she didn't want to talk about....anything, and Ethan couldn't blame her. He could be intimidating at times, too straight forward, blunt, ignorant, you name it, but he normally had a way of making people feel at ease for the most part. He could make you hate him one minute, then love him the next. The simple fact that this girl had a solid cement wall eighty feet high would make it a little more difficult to scale. Though that was a challenge Ethan was ready to take.
Now, don't get the wrong idea...well okay, I guess you can, the whole saying every guy wants what he can't have, and thats only partially true, but Ethan was genuinely intrigued as to why this girl was so guarded, and up front about it too. Her wary stance and gaze, it was easy to tell she didn't trust him, or probably anyone for that matter, as far as she could throw them, and Ethan admired it. He too had a guard around him, though he put up a different front, acting as if everything was nonchalant, easy going, care free so to speak. Regardless. Standing up, he reached over and grabbed the girls empty shot glass, twisting the lid onto the liquor before grabbing his own shot glass and heading back to the bar, a few people already sitting at the counter. They couldn't have been there long. Ethan glanced at the clock, showing it was just after five. The hockey game would be starting at six, so he gathered people were coming in early as to get the descent seats closest to the TV screens. He tucked the whiskey away, tossing the shot glasses into a sink, landing on the rag he had earlier. Looking at the four gentlemen at the bar counter, he gave them a "what do you want?" looks, casual, simple. Apparently the girls reluctance to talk had worn off on him. Three beers and a rum and coke. Let the games begin.
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Things were packed, and Ethan was glad. The more business the better. Deafening cheers rang throughout as different hockey plays were made. You could only spot the bartenders serving drinks outside of the counter by the tray they held above their heads, keeping drinks higher then the bodies around them. The boy caught himself looking for the girl he had talked to earlier, though he had no idea why. Who cares? He scoffed and lightly shook his head, an easy smile coming to his lips at the thought, but no sooner he was back to focusing on those who wanted drinks in front of him.
Notes: Sorry it took so long...annnd that its crap xD
Words: I stopped caring
Muse: Meh
outfit: clickyy
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Post by jacq on Jan 22, 2011 18:45:05 GMT -5
There was a clear divide between the men and women once the crowds started in. The guys went for Jacq, the girls went for Ethan. With her there appeared to be almost a complete turn around as far as personality went. Before she was closed off and defensive, once she was working she was flirty and bubbly. Inwardly she really hated this job; not because of the work but because of how she had to act in order to make money. If she wasn't so desperate to make as much money as she possibly could ever time she was working, she wouldn't have to be quite so... well she wouldn't have to act like such a dumb blonde. She wasn't the sort of person to be all cute, but none of the guys who hung around to flirt and give her a good tip realized that the joke was on them and if they even so much as suggested asking her out she probably would have snapped and punched the poor sucker in the nose... or worse places.
She was very slowly starting to get more and more frustrated as more and more stupid guys trying to hit on her brought up how her name was like the alcohol Jack Daniels. She was fully aware of the similarity between the two, and the fact that her mother intentionally named her that way. The story was that her mom had been drinking the night she went into labor and after the baby was born and they asked what her name was she mumbled "Jack Daniels," and the nurses kindly filled in "Jacquelyn" rather than "Jack." It probably wasn't true, but Jacq had no way of knowing whether it was or not since she never knew her mother. If she wasn't so tired, she would have just taken it like she did every other night, but as it was her fuse had just about burnt out and she was on a crash course with getting arrested for assault. If one more person said anything about her name she was apt to explode.
Not Done finish soon...
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