In the Dark

/ By mephistopheles [+Watch]

Replies: 11 / 146 days 14 hours 59 minutes 50 seconds

Allowed Users

  1. [Allowed] Mun


[center
[google-font http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Old+Standard+TT]
[old+standard+tt [size20
[b Person A] knows not to talk to strangers, but there's something so endearing about [http://rp.eliteskills.com/vc.php?c=408322 [b Person B ]] that they can't help but to chit chat. Little does [b A] know, they'll be regretting it very soon.

[pic https://66.media.tumblr.com/128b26810926baee8f71f5f6bb6e99ca/tumblr_mzdxhkg67H1rb40pco1_500.gifv]


Reply

You don't have permission to post in this thread.

Roleplay Responses

[google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Slabo+27px]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/GxQ27q2.jpg?1]]
[Slabo+27px [center [size14 With a surprising amount of freedom beginning to be built up with his girlfriend in the last few days in part due to his increased passion for “her”, Julien anxiously waited for night to come. Tonight would be the night he’d visit Demitri again. Perfect timing, seeing as how Violet planned to wind down with the boys tonight. And by “wind down”, she meant to have a wild night of infidelity with almost each and every one of the other members. It was an event that was sadly common for Julien to witness or partake in. Though this time, he couldn’t wait for it.

His foot tapped impatiently at the rugged wooden floor, the other perched on a bar of the stool he sat at. Taking note of his demeanor, one of the men from the gang slid up next to Julien, head cocked to the side, eyes wide with intrigue. This one was an odd ball, rather hard to read most of the time. Julien didn’t get the best vibes from him despite his typical air headed personality. There was something off about him, though he was the only one in the gang that hadn’t laid a finger on him or his girlfriend. However, he had seen this redhead fight before. Julien could swear, whenever the man fought, there was a glint of enjoyment and bloodlust in his eyes, as if he longed to end the other’s life. It was spine chilling and it made the purple haired man wary. Yet in the same breath, the lack of abuse he endured from the other made him somewhat comforted by his unpredictable and dangerous aura. Gunner was the only one in the gang that was never bothered. He would come and go as he pleased, seemingly throwing everyone off to some extent, none brave enough to question or judge his actions or whereabouts. A wild card for sure.

[#db0936 “What’s this? You seem anxious? Eager? Scaaaared?”] The man spoke up, giving a bit of a whole body shake, holding onto his own arms as if to emulate fear. Julien glanced to him before downing the rest of the whiskey in his glass with a disgusted shudder. He was much more a fan of fruity drinks, but he must look manly in front of the others so he tended to drink much heavier poisons when out drinking with them. Giving a tentative grin, Julien shrugged and chose to let his eyes focus on the wall of alcohol behind the bar. A little part of him feared that making eye contact with those soulless eyes would betray his true intent. He would surely be found out by the other and that was the last thing he wanted for this night that he had finally committed to.

[#9509e0 “Just not feeling well I guess. I was thinking about skipping out tonight and just going to walk around town. Take a breather and reboot the system, y’know?”] As soon as the words left his mouth, the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. The thick air around him made him swallow the nearly choking lump in his throat. The momentary silence was stifling. Both men listening to the music and talking in the small club, Julien feeling the heated stare that bore into the side of his face. He felt like he had died and was standing face to face with god, being judged for all of his sins. Moments felt like ages before the other blinked and gave a soft chuckle, patting Julien on the back a bit roughly.

[#db0936 “I see, I see! Such a weird one, Julie, you seem fine to me, but if you say so!”] Gunner chirped blissfully. Julien sighed inwardly immediately feeling relief until the cold grip on his shoulder stiffened his entire body. Gunner’s hand was planted firmly onto the other. Threatening. His voice still rang cheerful albeit quiet, though the words came off just as knowingly as the hand that dug into his soul. [#db0936 “Have fun on your.. Walk~”]

The spring in his step as Gunner sauntered off back to some of the others betrayed the hostility that poured from his person just moments before. Julien was somewhat terrified. It was clear that the other didn’t believe him. It felt as if Gunner already knew his plans or at the very least had some sort of inclination. It took a minute before the young man felt it safe to turn back, glancing over the room to look for the head of red hair. Sure enough, he was off being weird and making the other club patrons just as uncomfortable as Julien felt. That man must have been a demon in disguise. That was the only explanation.

Realizing he lost track of time, Julien pulled out his phone to check the time. Shit. The store would close soon and he still had to run home and get the guitar. [i Stay calm, stay calm. Can’t let them notice.] Taking in a deep breath, Julien stood up and paid for his drink, fingers tapping impatiently on the bar as he waited to get his card back. Shoving the plastic into his pocket alongside his phone, he walked back to his girlfriend who was seated in the lap of the gang leader. Julien ignored how his hand was exploring his partner’s thigh casually despite his presence right in front of them. At first glance, Vi looked to be more Ezra’s girlfriend. Whenever they would all hand out, it was impossible to get her away from him and it seemed that Ezra had a bit of a dominance issue with Julien. He loved to show off how much more Vi was hooked onto himself over her own boyfriend.

Narrowed eyes focused onto Julien as he approached. [#9509e0 “I’m going to go out for a walk on the town, you guys have fun tonight and I’ll see you tomorrow, Vi.”] he felt like a child explaining to a teacher that he needed to use the restroom, waiting for permission. But before Ezra could reply, the familiar streak of red leaned over the back of the couch and rested his chin on the top of the larger man’s head. A dangerous game Gunner was playing, yet a game that only he could play when it came to Ezra. Everyone was just as intimidated by Ezra as they were of Gunner, though without as much confusion as to why. He was large, covered in tattoos and aggressive as hell to boot. He wasn’t someone anyone would want to pick a fight with.

Saving the night, Gunner spoke up before Ezra could protest Julien’s escape. [#db0936 “Have fun, JuJu! And get me some candy if you pass the grocer!!”] he cooed, wrapping his arms around Ezra’s neck, clearly ignoring the grunt of irritation for the touch. He was.. Helping Julien? Trying to ignore the plethora of possible angles he assumed Gunner was working here, the man simply rolled his eyes and nodded, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he turned to leave. Also trying to ignore the familiar feeling of eyes on his back as he walked out of the bar.

Taking in a deep breath of cool air, he felt much more free in the open town and away from the others. But he had little time to enjoy the freedom as his feet quickly put the bar behind them, running down the sidewalk towards his apartment. It would take him some time to get there and then to the shop but he [i had] to get there. Panting out one breath after another, he began to go over a script in his head. What would he say to Demitri when he got there? [i “Hey hot stuff, you ready to make my day? With strings of course.”] God that was awful. No. Fumbling with his keys, he opened the door and gave the clock on the wall a quick once over before heading into the bathroom. A little under ten minutes until the shop closed. But he had to be sure his injuries were concealed. Julien didn’t want to make Demitri worry for him.

Checking himself in the mirror haphazardly, he seemed somewhat content with the makeup he had used to cover the bruising on his neck from his girlfriends hands, missing a bit of blue peeking out on the side of his neck out of view. His hand was still neatly wrapped, the wounds still healing well, though still wishing not to make a spectacle of the littered cuts on his palm and fingers. Finally, he make sure his bangs were swept over his eye to hide the still fairly nasty gash she left with the bottle. All good to go. Finding his guitar and zipping it up in its case, he slung it over his shoulder and ran out the door. Six minutes.

Feet carrying him faster than they did when running from a mob of angry gangsters, Julien tried his hardest to make it in time. However as he slowed his steps, nearing the store, he felt his heart sink into his stomach. Great. Closed. Cupping his hands to look into the door, Julien couldn’t see Demitri inside. Must have already gone upstairs. Leaning over to place his hands on his knees and take a few steadying breaths, the man reviewed his options.

1. He could go home and try to come out another day. Though that would bring forth another attempt to pull the wool over his girlfriend’s eyes.

2. He could come back early in the morning as his girlfriend typically didn’t come back after a night of orgys until late afternoon the next day. Or..

3. He could swallow his nerves and-

Sneaking around the corner of the store like a burglar with a guitar for protection, he looked over the side of the building for some way up to the supposed apartment and groaned when nothing was found. Too late to back down now. Continuing the trek, he went around to the back and gave a small fist pump. [#9509e0 “Yes. Found you.”] A set of metal stairs leading up to the second floor. Carefully and quietly, almost feeling like he wasn’t meant to be here, Julien crept up the stairs. Reaching the door, he lifted a hand but hesitated, pulling it back.

Okay, what if there was more than one apartment up here? If this wasn’t Demitri’s place, he could be knocking on some murderer’s house. Julien could be pulled in and killed. Surely he could just come back in the morning, right? There was no need to.. No. He was chickening out. The purple haired was [i going] to do this. With a deep inhale and a long, serene exhale, his knuckles rasped against the door. Peering eyes watched from below, round the corner Julien came from. A grin of an interest piqued.

Knocking again a bit more confidently, Julien spoke out a bit. [#9509e0 “It’s Julien, I’m here with my guitar. [size10 Please be Demitri and not a serial killer…”]] he trailed off with the last part, mostly to himself.]]
  ᴊᴜʟɪᴇɴ / Mun / 1d 23h 27m 47s
[google-font http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alegreya] [alegreya
[center [size14 [pic https://i.imgur.com/s31mgs2.jpg]

The next couple of days passed uneventfully and no matter how hard Demitri tried to push images of Julien out of his mind they kept finding their way back. When his time wasn't being filled with music lessons or assisting customers he was replaying their conversation from that day. Analyzing every word and savoring every minute expression. Mostly he enjoyed picturing that perfect, happy smile and hoping that wherever the male was he was smiling just like that. He was still unsure if we would prefer to see Julien sooner or later, but the anticipation was pure agony. He looked like a sad puppy waiting for his owner to return, ears perking up whenever he heard the door bells jingle. Only to be disappointed by the person walking through every time.

Despite feeling incredibly helpless by what most definitely was developing into an infatuation, there was something good that came out of it. The inspiration he’d been looking for. Whenever the shop was quiet he could immerse himself in all the thoughts of Julien and the music would come to him. After months of being stuck on his composition he was struck by an epiphany. His song had lacked a purpose before. There was no goal in mind, but Julien had changed that.

Demitri seated himself at the piano and scribbled on the well used pages of the composition as he hummed the melody, fingers ghosting over the keys. All the while thinking about the one he wanted to see again. But who knew if he even would. He began imagining the both of them in all kinds of scenarios. A picnic on the beach or a secluded stay in mountain cabins. Breakfast in bed. Bundled up to pick out the perfect Christmas tree. All the while smiling, laughing, and touching.

[i A song about loneliness and longing. With a secondary melody that stirs feelings of...hopefulness. Is it creepy that I’m writing a song that alludes to how I feel about you? The future I see for us? I hope not, Julien.]

A smile spread across his face as the two melodies intermingled in his head. It sounded good but it would be hard to tell until he actually heard the changes out loud. He glanced at the clock on the wall, not realizing how much time had passed since sitting at the piano and getting lost in his own world. A student would be arriving soon for a violin lesson so he straightened his papers and slipped them neatly back into the black binder where he kept his compositions, though not before scribbling a title on the piece.

[i Dearest.]

Deep down he knew that he was letting himself slip into dangerous territory. He was flirting with the dark places of his mind that were always lurking. Always waiting for him to give in just a little. His thoughts consisting of Julien and not much else was a path he shouldn’t stray towards, but it was difficult to resist. What if he could control himself this time? What if Julien was different? Was it truly fair to write him off just because of his past relationships? Demitri felt that it wouldn’t hurt to try again, even if he was wary at first. He would feel better once he knew his full name. Then he could find out more about him before letting himself become more invested.

You could tell a lot about a person just based off of their activity on social media. The people that wanted the world to perceive them as cheerful and fun loving usually were quite the opposite. And the people that posted very consistently were attention starved in real life, though wanted to appear popular or likeable. It wasn’t an exact science but just looking at photos and checking tagged locations provided a great amount of intel. That was why Demitri didn’t have any socials. Many found it suspicious, and perhaps rightfully so, but he had far too many secrets to be so careless. Secrets that he wouldn’t mind revealing to the right person. He just had to be sure that Julien was the right person.

He stood up from the piano, stretching his long arms before making his way to the back of the shop where there were four soundproof rooms used for lessons or rented out by musicians as a quiet place to practice. Being the only one in the shop he was surprised to see a man standing in front of one of the doors. Though the familiar, unwelcome appearance of the man made him very aware that his mind was playing tricks on him. He closed his eyes and massaged them with the tips of his fingers. The sound of loud rushing water flooded his senses, seemingly surrounding him although he was in the back of his music shop.

When he reopened his eyes the male figure was gone and the sound of rushing water stopped. He took a deep breath only to be caught off guard again by the sound of someone moving behind him. Calmly, he turned around to meet the gaze of his student.

[#02407e “Ah, Lex, sorry that I didn’t notice you there. After you,”] he smiled apologetically and held open one of the room doors.

The young teen smiled sheepishly and slipped into the room. They were by far one of his favorite students. They lived across the street from the shop and from what he could gather did not have the best home life. He had tried to lessen his interference in the lives of others but it had become too hard to ignore since he saw them often, so to ease his mind and hopefully make their life a little easier he had offered free lessons if they came within the last hour the shop was open.

They didn’t waste any time taking out their violin and preparing to play. Lex gave a nod of their head when they were ready and Demitri counted them off.

[#02407e "One, two, three, and…"]

The sound of the violin strings was the only thing on Demitri's mind for once that day. He sat on a stool, eyes closed and hands clasped, listening to the young player. Every mistake, even the subtle ones, were not missed on him. Without opening his eyes he held up one hand and the music stopped.

[#02407e "Start again."]

The player started from the beginning fixing most of the mistakes he'd heard which brought a smile to his face. They were almost able to get halfway through the piece before he held his hand up again.

[#02407e "You're crescendo is...off. There’s something off about it. Start again."]

A small huff was heard before the player readjusted and started the piece once again. This time Demitri let them finish the whole piece to get a feel for their greatest areas of weakness. He opened his eyes and was met with expectant, hopeful eyes. [#02407e "It's an improvement, but I can tell you haven't been practicing, Lex,"] he said with a stern look and an arch of his eyebrow.

The adolescent surveyed him with wary eyes before setting their violin aside. [#906727 "Yeah, I haven't really had the time...I'm sorry for wasting your time. And...and I don't even pay for lessons. I'll try harder!"] Demitri held up his hands in defense and smiled. [#02407e "Whoa, I've told you that I don't mind teaching you. We're practically neighbors. I want you to succeed so I’m a bit heavy handed with the criticism. You’re one of my best students,"] he spoke in a light tone. Though as he observed the youth his expression began to show worry. [#02407e "How are things at home by the way? You know you're always welcome to practice over here. Or just sit in the shop to relax."]

There was a long silence. The teen shifted their weight from their left foot to their right a couple of times, avoiding eye contact at all costs. [#906727 "Things are...okay. I know. Maybe I'll come over here to practice next week after my geometry test. You know I'm bad at math so I kind of put off practicing to focus on studying. Sorry...again.”] It sounded like a half truth. They really were bad at math but he doubted that was what had kept them from practicing. Demitri wanted to pry a little more but thought it would be best not to push anything. [#02407e "Understandable. School is important. Just remember that you’re always welcome here if you need help. Especially with math. Owen's pretty good at it. I’ll walk you out,"] he said holding the door to the room open again.

Demitri watched his student walk across the street to make sure no one bothered them. However, most of his concern stemmed from someone in their household bothering them. Their mom’s new boyfriend seemed to be the source of all troubles. It was a problem he’d been wanting to look into because he refused to passively allow bad things to happen to good people. After watching his student disappear into the apartment building, Demitri locked up the shop and flipped the sign to ‘closed’. He glanced around the dark shop, always one to enjoy a perfect silence. Though his mind was anything but silent. Now that it was free to wander again, thoughts of Julien resurfaced causing the tall man to groan as he climbed the stairs to his apartment.

[i I’ve never thought about a customer like this before. I barely even know you and yet…]

Demitri threw himself down on his bed that was much too large for one person and stared up at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be a new day and maybe Julien would come walking into the shop. Or maybe he would pay him a late night visit as he had not so subtly suggested. He couldn’t help but laugh at his own wishful thinking.

[i I know we’ll see each other again, Julien. I’m sure of it.]
  d / mephistopheles / 2d 14h 44m 43s
[google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Slabo+27px]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/GxQ27q2.jpg?1]]
[Slabo+27px [center [size14 Days felt like weeks that had passed since he last saw that mysterious music shop owner. Often times, when left with nothing but his thoughts, Julien would spiral into an uncontrollable flurry of desires and dreams of a future with the man. What sort of life they would live, what kind of love they would share. Somehow, despite having such a skewed notion of what true love was, his mind was able to manifest such a beautiful scene of the two. No anger, no sadness, just smiles and happiness. A life he had never truly had the chance to live for himself. It seemed so out of reach, like only a fantasy in a children’s tale. If reality was what his girlfriend led him to believe, then those sort of stories didn’t exist. Just a movie miracle for the romantic at heart to enjoy. What they had was normal, expected of any kind of relationship. It was what everyone went through. The smiles people wore on the streets hid the abuse at home.

The day after his visit, Julien’s girlfriend hounded him for hours about where he had wandered off to the day before. There was no way he was about to spill the details and have Demitri and his shop the victim of one of the gang’s hits. [#f542dd “You are [b going] to tell me where you were, Julien! Were you cheating on me again? Huh?!”] With a loud crash, a glass coaster was expertly dodged as it flew past the purple haired man’s face and shattered against the wall behind him. He flinched at the sound and backed up a bit, holding his hands up. [#9509e0 “I told you, I don’t cheat on you, Vi! Why don’t you believe me?”]

The pink haired girl seemed even more enraged by his answer, fully convinced he was as guilty as she was of cheating. While it was true, most of the times she accused him, he had actually been innocent, just out on the town or as of yesterday, visiting the music shop in town. [#f542dd “Why do you lie to me like this? Just tell me the truth!”] Her hand grasped onto an empty bottle and was flung his way, though his luck with dodging ran thin as the bottle collided with his head. With a shout of pain, Julien backed into the wall, clutching onto his forehead where he felt his bangs stick to the dampening skin. Pounding pulsed through his ears as pain shot through his head. The approaching female went unnoticed until she grabbed his jacket and pulled him around and down to the floor to straddle him.

Head too shaken to defend himself, and in a dizzy haze, Julien only realized his lack of breath when he opened his eyes to peer through bloodied vision up at his girlfriend who held her hands to his neck. There was fury in her eyes. She wanted to kill him. And he was helpless. Mouth opening to gasp for the breath he couldn’t find, Julien brought a hand to grab one of her wrists. This certainly was doing little to clear his head. Grip too weak to pull her hand off of his throat, his eyes teared up, afraid that this may be the last day he lived. The last thing he saw. The first time he ever met Demitri would be the only time he did.

Demitri was suddenly the only thing on his mind. Careless for his own life, he worried for the man that would wait for his return, but would never get it. Would he worry? Would he care at all? Vision going blurry, head spinning and lungs burning deep in his chest, Julien could barely make out the other’s words. [#f542dd “I’m so sick of you!! I fucking hate you!! Ugh!”] Somewhat coming down from an explosive rampage with the thought of losing the man she has so much control of, the girl released her strangling grip on Julien and stood to her feet. [#f542dd “Fuck you, Julien. Don’t run off like that again or next time I won’t stop, got it?”] she looked him over with disgust before grabbing her counterfeit handbag and storming to the door, leaving Julien passed out on the floor, face covered in blood.

Hours later, the young man began to come to, turning to his side with a groan. His head felt like it would explode. Barely recalling what had happened, the man placed down a hand to push himself up, hissing as a shard of broken glass was embedded into his palm, a few smaller bits pricking like needles into his fingers. Managing to get himself up, he stumbled to the dingy bathroom and flicked the light on.

Everything came back to him as he saw himself in the mirror. Dried blood caked his face and made his hair clump together, his left eye nearly sealed closed by the plasma. With a groan, he pulled down a hand towel from the rack and twisted the squeaky knob on the sink. Watching the water, he thanked whatever gods were out there that he didn’t die. Yet, perhaps that would have been better for his girlfriend. She was furious.. But she left him alive right? Maybe she didn’t want to be without him after all. He supposed she loved him too much to really go through with it. Decidedly, he needed to be more careful whenever he went out from now on.

Thankfully, Julien was as used to being hurt as an abused, punching bag of a gang member could be. Often times the gang would get into territory battles with another gang and leave Julien on his own when things would get too hairy. It still hurt like a bitch as he rubbed the water soaked towel over his head. Wiping the wound softly, he saw the decently deep gash that he was grateful would be hidden under the fringe of purple bangs that hung on the left side of his forehead. Cleaning off the rest of the blood from his hair and face, he could finally open his eye and looked down at the glass in his hand. Perfect. His right hand. Now that he could more easily see, with no help at all from the searing headache that plagued his head, he began to pick out the glass one piece at a time. Though tweezers were required to remove some of the tinier shards, he managed to successfully rid his hand of the intruders and found a bandage to tightly wrap around the bleeding injury on his palm.

It was a good thing he kept plenty of medical equipment in the house, especially for incidents like this. Sticking a piece of gauze to the gash on his forehead, he wrapped some of the bandage around his head and let out a sigh as he once again looked himself in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. His spirit felt broken and his heart hurt as badly as his head did. Julien tried to do everything that she wanted and only very rarely did anything for himself. Why still is she this unhappy with him? Nothing he could imagine.

After the incident, when Julien’s girlfriend had returned, she acted as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t nearly killed him. As if he wasn’t covered in injuries she caused. She brought them fast food and sat in his lap, telling him about her time out with the boys as they ate. Though he merely nodded and gave soft “mhm”s every so often, she went on and on, talking likely just to hear herself talk. Julien just stared ahead as he chewed on his burger. What would eating out with Demitri be like? Would they talk about music while they ate or would they talk about their social lives? Perhaps what their childhood was like? While Julien didn’t particularly feel as if he had anything too interesting to share about himself, he knew with great certainty that he would be able to listen to Demitri talk about himself all day.

After their meal, Vi coaxed Julien into the shower with her. As her hands explored his numb body, the man felt again.. powerless. Should he deny her, another fight would break out and he was too weak and drained to deal with another episode of this drama. Closing his eyes, he let out a breath and imagined Vi’s hands as another’s. Such skilled hands at the piano would likely be just as skilled on a lover’s skin. Biting his lip as he was unable to hold back a smile at the much better dream view in his head, Julien played into the touches. The sex. For the first time in a while, it felt good. It was hot, passionate, everything he wanted from a sexual encounter. Everything he felt he didn’t deserve. Of course some things were different, having to imagine being done by that handsome stud instead of him doing his girlfriend. However, the end result was just as pleasant, his release just as emotional as it was physical.

With both of them laying back in bed, taking in the great sex that even his girlfriend was surprised by, the purple haired male couldn’t help the grin on his face. He was twitterpated, his heart racing. Would it have been even better in real life than him just imagining it?

The girl’s voice broke the imagery that was painted in his head, replacing it with the bleak existence that really was. [#f542dd “Wow, Julien.. That was so good.. See? We’re so good together, right?”] she cooed, cuddling up to his chest and circling a finger against it. Julien felt sickness bubble up into the pit of his stomach. Were they? Demitri was who he was thinking about, not Vi. But if that made them being together a nicer thought for Julien, better yet, keeping Vi happy, perhaps that’s how it would work out best after all.

[#f542dd “Maybe I should smack you around more often if you’re this good after?”] she teased, poking his nose. He didn’t see the humor. The man could have bled out and died and she wasn’t the least bit concerned. Something about that didn’t sit too well with him. Then again, she was all he had, so who was he to complain with that? Vi fell asleep soon after, leaving Julien quiet and thoughtful. With what happened tonight, he had to ask himself if he was certain of continuing to pursue whatever these feelings were with Demitri. Was it worth his life? Glancing down to the girl in his arms, he mulled the decision over a bit. Despite the injuries, despite the fear of death he experienced, only one thing was on his mind. Demitri. How could he reason with himself that the man [b wouldn’t] be worth it at this point?

Julien would be committed to follow whatever this faint trail of breadcrumbs was. He had to know more about the other. Deception would be a must. He would have to be careful about when he went out and how he’d react to his girlfriend if he was ever questioned again. The following days were much easier, as he kept his mind on the man from the music shop. Julien was much more chipper, making his time with Vi more bearable than usual, and she certainly wouldn’t complain about the nightly passion that seemed to spark up within her boyfriend. It would all lead up until he could find free time with Vi busy enough to go visit his dream man again.]]]
  ᴊᴜʟɪᴇɴ / Mun / 14d 12h 26m 14s
[google-font http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alegreya] [alegreya
[center [size14 [pic https://i.imgur.com/s31mgs2.jpg]

Demitri watched the smaller one’s eyes widen and his cheeks pinken. It was a lovely sight. The shade of the blush reminding him of peonies in full bloom. He could already feel his mind shifting to fit this stranger into his life, immediately ready to do whatever it took to make him happy. He had to fight back these thoughts, trying to reason with that obsessive part of his brain that was screaming at him. Julien did not help in the slightest, with the adorable, shocked look on his face. Shock, which truthfully, matched Demetri’s own. Had it not been someone so intriguing, he may have brushed off the flirting, as he usually did. But he couldn’t do that with Julien. There was no way he could deny the connection he felt, even if he so badly wanted to ignore it.

[i There’s that smile. Absolutely stunning.]

The cutest giggle he’d ever heard followed the smile, causing many things to stir within the tall male. If someone could look into his mind and see what he was seeing, they would mistake his vision for a scene from a movie. Slow motion camera effects with the sun itself radiating from Julien. Perfection. The only reality worth living in.

He blinked a few times to snap himself back to reality, just in time to feel Julien’s hand creeping up his arm until his wrist was on his shoulder. What happened next almost made Demitri doubt if he had actually snapped out of his daydream. The short man’s fingers were playing with his hair. Soft touches that left his scalp feeling tingly. He blinked a few more times, only to realize that it was actually happening.

“Then maybe I should come after hours.. You know, so your customers don’t know my secret. Wouldn’t want any of them finding out I can’t play, right?”

His attention was fully captured, ears hanging onto every word that fell from Julien’s lips. Then all too soon he was backing away, leaving him with a wink and a tantazaling pucker of his lips. Demitri’s mind urged him to pull him back in and taste those lips before they were gone. But his feet stayed firmly in place. His face stunned and eyes wide open. Despite being unable to speak, or think clearly, or even breathe, he managed to follow Julien with his eyes as he headed towards the shop entrance. He decided in that moment that even if he never saw the other again, this encounter would forever be burned into this brain.

Julien’s parting words rang in his ears even after the store lacked his presence.
[i Soon can not come soon enough, Julien.]

As soon as he was gone from the store, Demitri reclaimed the ability to move. His legs swayed and he reached a long arm out to steady himself against a shelf. He was fighting an invisible battle with his thoughts. Letting his eyelashes flutter closed, he breathed slowly in an attempt to center himself. A bad move. Images of the purple hair and the smile flashed beneath his eyes, as if there was a projector shooting the images onto his closed lids.

[i Julien. I want to know everything about you. What makes you happy? What makes you sad? How do you spend your free time? What makes you YOU?]

Demitri opened his eyes and walked back to the piano, determined to return to what he was doing before his whole world had been turned on its head. Lowering himself onto the piano bench, he rolled his broad shoulders and rested his fingertips lightly on the white keys that awaited him. It only took a few seconds for his fingers to begin pressing the keys, providing only a minor distraction, but he would take what he could get. While his fingers worked, starting the beginning of a calming [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxlf-ZmE8JI tune] he thought about why Julien had caused a spark in him. It had been two years since anyone had caused these kinds of emotions and thoughts in him and he had been trying hard to keep it that way.

Relationships never worked out for him. Perhaps it was because he “loved too hard”, but he liked to think that many people just had trouble understanding his perception of love. To him, loving someone meant you would do anything for them. Lie, steal, even kill. Whatever had to be done.But most people were not that dedicated. They used and abused those around them, without the slightest bit of remorse. It was unforgivable. His last two boyfriends were unable to comprehend his interpretation of love. This was always the center of arguments until Demitri finally came to the realization that they didn’t love him at all. Because if you truly loved someone, you would never hurt them and both of them had done everything possible to break his heart.

[i Why am I so willing to forget the past just for a chance with you, Julien? Somehow I think that you’ll be different...no. I know that you’ll be different. There’s something about you. But, before I get ahead of myself I need to get to know you better. Allow me to be selfish just this once, Julien.]

His fingers pounded furiously on the keys, getting to the intense part of the piece, matching his inner turmoil almost perfectly. The next time that Julien stopped by he would find out his last name. Checking his socials would help him decide if he was worth it, though Demitri knew deep down that there was nothing that would keep him from having him now.
  / mephistopheles / 69d 17h 46m 15s
[google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Slabo+27px]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/GxQ27q2.jpg?1]]
[Slabo+27px [center [size14 In some odd way it was nice to hear that he wasn’t worse than middle aged mothers. Julien may have come off as confident on the outside, though for anything aside from looks, he was rather self conscious. Being told on a regular basis how annoying and unbearable you are does little to raise a positive self image. Yet if this man before him thought otherwise, perhaps there was some sort of redeeming qualities to Julien other than his pretty face.

Demitri. He repeated the name a few times in his head as if to assess the combo. Yep, he seemed like a Demitri. Julien’s thoughts strayed as he wondered if his name fit him. At times he wasn’t fond of it. Somehow he imagined he’d like it coming from Demitri’s sexy voice. He had certainly liked everything else the other had said so far. Especially that he owned this place. Julien admired the taller man for having his own business. He couldn’t picture himself ever really getting that far in life. The gang and the pole were his only sources of income for the time being. Nothing particularly prideful about that.

“These strong hero arms are also available after store hours. The outside door to my apartment is just around back, you need only to knock. Whenever.”

Julien wasn’t completely sure what he had been expecting from the other. Ridicule, disgust, an awkward laugh perhaps. A sexy, coy grin and the man flirting back was definitely not on that list. It wasn’t that the smaller male wanted to gross Demitri out by flirting with him if he was straight, but being so flirtatious by nature, it would have been impossible for him [i not] to have made advances on this tan blessing. With the return of interest, the purple haired man’s eyes enlarged and his cheeks shifted to a brilliant shade of pink. The shock was evident on his features and he appeared to not know how to react for a good moment before biting his lip, lips curled up into a smile. Eyes tightened cheerfully, complimenting the smile gracefully.

The pats on his head were warm. He craved more of the other’s touch. A desire that was blaringly dangerous, potentially life threatening. So starved for affection, Julien could care less. He had to come back soon, especially upon hearing the other wished to see him again. Everything felt right and wrong at once. It was otherworldly. Intoxicating.

Letting out a breathy giggle, Julien let his hand gradually trail up to Demitri’s arm, resting his thin wrist on the clothed shoulder and using his fingers to play with the other’s hair at the side of his head. [#9509e0 “Then maybe I should come after hours.. You know, so your customers don’t know my secret. Wouldn’t want any of them finding out I can’t play, right?”] Giving a wink and puckering his lips to make a soft kiss sound, he backed away and turned around to head toward the door. Surely that display would snag him. Not that Julien was trying anything with the other. Nope. He had a girlfriend back at home that.. Well, that was honestly probably ready to beat him when he got home for being gone so long.

But he wouldn’t let that sour his mood. Julien was riding on a high that made him feel like he could soar and every second of it felt like sin. Delicious, sin. Glancing back over his shoulder at Demitri, the small male spoke out again, [#9509e0 “See you again soon, handsome. Don’t miss me too much~!”] And with that, he made his confident strides to the door and made his exit.

Heading home, the music store owner was the only thing on his mind. Whether a fling or something more, Julien would not mind having some more of that man. In any way possible. It was too good to miss out on. He’d have to make sure to work hard and get good tips so he could get a nice new outfit for the visit. Perhaps he was moving too fast. Everything in his life had been run that way though. In and out of secret flings hidden from his girlfriend. His abusive father who walked out on him and his mother. And his mother who died much earlier than she should have. She would have been so disappointed in Julien for even considering pursuing this man, or any other he had played with.

His mother was a woman of religion and had she not been so ill, she would have been the type to get Julien exorcised or send him for conversion therapy if she knew what interests he held. When his mother met his girlfriend, she was so ecstatic. The two instantly had a bond, one that made Julien’s stomach churn. While he loved his mother, he felt stifled taking care of her with her views being constantly imposed on him. So when his girlfriend and mother became close as well, he began harboring the worst feeling of impending doom. For good reason.

Following his mother’s death, he had nowhere to go but with his girlfriend. That’s when the relationship completely flipped from sweet and loving to abusive and hateful. He was quickly trained into feeling it was a normal relationship. He deserved what he got and if he gave her what she wanted when she wanted it, then she would be decent to him. It was simple, like math. His view of love had always been skewed, so something so tainted was expected. Forced to join a gang with her, forced to shoot up drugs, forced to accept her unfaithfulness with the other men in the gang, even to the extent of being made to watch for “fun”.

It didn’t take much of his partner’s infidelity to begin participating in his own. Though his flavor was more secretive. Picking up a job at a club on the other side of town that the gang and his girlfriend didn’t touch, a gay bar, he began to flourish as a pole dancer. He felt unrestricted when he worked the pole. Knowing the danger in the gang finding out about his side gig, he resorted to wearing a wig and contacts to hide his true self. Though at first against disguising himself, he soon loved the freedom it gave him. All eyes could be on him and no one knew who he was.

Shortly after starting the job, he began to rack up requests for more [i personal] skin to skin sessions with the club’s patrons as some of the other dancers also received. It allowed him to explore the hidden desires he always had growing up, without the shame he would have felt on behalf of his mother. Julien could simply boil it down to a job. He did it for money, not because he liked guys, deceiving even himself. Until now perhaps.

Of course he had seen many men he found attractive, but this was a whole new level. Demitri wasn’t a client that didn’t know his true identity. The man was someone that could become a liability. Someone that he apparently found worthy of the possible consequences. And somehow, something in Julien couldn’t wait to ruin his life with this man.]]]
  ᴊᴜʟɪᴇɴ / Mun / 75d 39m 2s
[google-font http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alegreya] [alegreya
[center [size14 [pic https://i.imgur.com/s31mgs2.jpg]

There was a smile in response to his suggestion. A smile that lit up the already bright shop, or at least that’s what the tall one’s imagination led him to believe. Surely he would accept the offer to bring in the guitar. Yet, the smile disappeared as the short customer’s gaze was cast to the floor. The shop owner replayed the conversation in his head.[i Did I say something stupid, purple? The offer seemed fine to me.] Just as he was about to investigate further, the blue eyes were back on him and the smile had reappeared, like the sun peeking through dark clouds after a storm.

“Alright then, that’ll work for me.” The words that he’d been waiting to hear. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling back, giving a shake of his head as his promise to not laugh at the other’s lack of musical skill. And while the agreement to the offer was important, the other managed to say something even more important. Julien. His name was Julien. Knowledge of his last name would be even better, but it was still nice to be able to put a name to his face.

[i Are you terrible at the guitar or are you just saying that, Julien? I guess I’ll find out in the near future. Either way I won’t laugh...but I might cover my ears if you are telling the truth.]

[#02407e “No need to apologize. And, for the record I didn’t think you were being a bitch. I’ve had much worse said to me in this store by middle aged mothers. I’m glad I was able to save you from the boxes and help solve your string dilemma. You can call me Demetri.”] A familiar feeling crept into his mind as he watched Julien brush a strand of hair behind his ear. It was a feeling he knew all too well and it disrupted his current euphoric state. He knew that seeing this man again would only make things worse, but it was much too late to retract his offer.

Perhaps if there was a large gap of time between now and the next time Julien visited the shop, Demetri could regain control. Enough time to fight back the undeniable urge to sweep this small one off his feet and protect him from everything bad in the world. The best move would be to answer the question about when to stop by with a lie. It would be easy to just say he would be going on vacation for a couple weeks and to stop by after that.

[i Would that be enough time to clear you out of my head?]

Julien was in no way making his decision easy with the cute way he had leaned in, as if they were school children sharing a secret. He wasn’t particularly worried about someone else helping him with the strings. There were only two other employees at the store. Sammie was very part-time and had no idea how to string a guitar. She would call him if Julien stopped by. Owen worked much more than her, but he was fairly lazy and wouldn’t hesitate to call him either. What made Demetri stop and think before lying about when to stop by, was that Julien said he didn’t want to miss him on his day off.

[i Is that really because you don’t want to tell someone else that you’re clueless, or do you want to see me again? No. I’m jumping to conclusions. It makes sense that you would want me here so that I can restring the guitar. But I can't help feeling that there's something more here. What are you thinking?]

Yes, his thoughts were getting ahead of him. This was a customer and he needed to stop letting his mind wander to strange places. Just as he began to come to terms with that, Julien leaned away but stepped closer. And then his hand was on his arm. Demetri looked down at the hand, not truly believing what he was seeing. A few pats and then a squeeze. [i Am I imagining this? It feels very real.]

“Besides, I could get used to these strong hero arms saving my dumb ass.”

[i Wait, Julien, are you flirting with me? So I wasn’t being crazy. There’s a connection between us.]

[#02407e “You can come back whenever it’s convenient. I own the place so I’m here a lot, and even when I’m not here, I’m here.”] He used the arm that Julien hadn’t sequeezed to gesture towards the ceiling. [#02407e “I live upstairs. So if you happen to stop by and I’m not here just let Sammie or Owen know that you’re here to see me. These strong hero arms are also available after store hours. The outside door to my apartment is just around back, you need only to knock. Whenever.”]

A coy smile overtook his lips after he was done speaking. Demetri stared down into the blue eyes, wondering if what he said would be considered flirty by the other. He had intended it to sound flirty, though not extremely forward.

[i I’m no good at flirting, Julien. It’s been too long. I hope you won't judge me for that.]

Demetri lifted his hand and placed it on top of the purple locks, patting three times. [#02407e “I look forward to seeing this vibrant hair sometime soon.”]
  / mephistopheles / 116d 5m 21s
[google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Slabo+27px]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/GxQ27q2.jpg?1]]
[Slabo+27px [center [size14 The other spoke so politely, so invitingly that it made the shorter male’s stomach churn. How could he have been so rude to this guy? Here the tall, handsome stud was, just trying to help his customers and in comes a weirdo shoving his face in racks and giving the good man some very unnecessary sass. The offer to bring in his guitar and have the other look at it immediately put a bright smile on his face. It was appealing, the idea that someone could not only give him the strings he needed, but potentially teach him how to put them on himself. Lips parted to respond but a streak of pink invaded his mind. Feeling a bit sick, he realized he’d have to have a good reason to leave his apartment with his guitar.

One might think that getting new guitar strings would be enough of a reason, but not for his girlfriend. There would be endless questions, fights and likely arms would swing. ‘Who are you going to see?’ ‘What’s more important than me?’ ‘Are you cheating on me?’ All things that the purple male was far too familiar with. Just about any time he wanted to go somewhere that wasn’t work or where she wanted him to go. Casting his gaze to the floor, a downtrodden swirl of emotions was clear in his eyes. He dejectedly struggled with the decision. Was the impending fight worth him getting these strings?

As blue eyes met the man waiting on an answer, it was decided that a fight would be well worth it for no other reason than getting to see this captivating individual again. In a moment of what felt like selfishness, he turned his lips upright and gave the other a sparkling grin. Arms crossing over his chest, he tilted his head to the side. [#9509e0 “Alright then, that’ll work for me. But you have to promise not to laugh. I’ve got like.. The green thumb of instruments, I’m really terrible.”] A hearty chuckle shook his shoulders. Decidedly, he owed this man an introduction. Perhaps he also just really wanted to know his name.

[#9509e0 “I’m Julien by the way. Thanks for helping me up and wanting to help with the strings. And uh.. Sorry for being such a bitch. This place is a little overwhelming when you have no idea what you need. Thank god you were here to save me from those boxes.”] With a light dusting of pink across his cheeks, he lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair behind his ear. Oh god, was he flirting with this charming man? No, surely not. He was just being friendly.

Despite his attempts to deny what stirred in his chest, the embers had already taken hold and smoldered into a warm glow of a fire. Why was he so easily captivated by someone he just met? There was no such thing as love at first sight. In fact, Julien barely believed in love, period. It was more just words you say to someone than an actual feeling. So what was this? Finally seeming to accept his attraction, it did little to help him comprehend his issue. It must just be the bright haired man being all too eager for the touch of another man. Something more than just a one night stand hidden behind the excuse of “I’m not into men but if I’m drunk, a fuck is a fuck.”

Julien wanted to be able to allow himself to desire the things he had always desired without feeling as if he were failing someone. The release of being himself without answering to everyone but the only person that should matter. Him. Maybe this man was only someone Julien thought could break him from this mundane life he lived. Would that be using him if he genuinely felt attracted to him? The concept of using and abusing was lost on Julien. The violent and toxic lifestyle his girlfriend forced upon him was his new normal. Having conditioned Julien to feel as if how they lived was what Julien wanted, she had completely distorted his perception on healthy relationships. False words of ‘I love you’ with no grasp of what they even meant. Between his mother’s conditional love and being in an abusive relationship, pretending everything was fine and that he was happy was the only way he could fathom getting himself through it. Unfortunately it was something nearly unnoticed. His own suffering and misery lost to him in a pleasant haze of ignorance.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be too dangerous to get just a bit closer to this man. See him a few more times, get help with his guitar and then put it all behind him. Yes, that’s what he would do. [#9509e0 “So, when do you want me to come back? Don’t wanna come out here and miss you on your day off or something.”] Leaning forward a bit, a hand blocked the side of his face as if to tell a secret to the other, [#9509e0 “I don’t wanna have anyone else have to rescue the damsel in distress if I drop by and you aren’t here to help. And I do NOT want to tell someone else that I have no clue what I’m doing.”]

While he leaned back, he took a step closer and placed a hand on the other’s arm, patting it softly and giving it a squeeze. [#9509e0 “Besides, I could get used to these strong hero arms saving my dumb ass.”] Okay, yeah. He was definitely flirting now. And probably laying it on way too thick. Too late now. ]]]
  ᴊᴜʟɪᴇɴ / Mun / 121d 16h 8m 21s
[google-font http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alegreya] [alegreya
[center [size14 [pic https://i.imgur.com/s31mgs2.jpg]

Although he hadn’t crossed the store in a particularly quiet way, his presence seemed to surprise the customer, the purple head knocking into the boxes above him. [i Was I that quiet or were you just that lost in your own thoughts?] The customer pulled his face out from the boxes, allowing him to get a better look. Blue pools peered up at him. Eyes that made his heart beat just a little faster. They were the kind of eyes you could get lost in, and luckily he got the chance to take a long look at them as the purple one hesitated to take his hand. [i Was it too presumptuous of me to assume you need help? To be fair, you looked pretty lost.]

Finally, the customer let out a huff and took his hand. He struggled to swim back up from those captivating blue eyes, regrettably tearing his dark ones away to keep himself from coming off as a creep. Just as soon as his eyes were free, he was pulled in by something else. Silently, he marveled at the male’s much smaller hand as he helped him up from the floor. Aside from the size it was also incredibly smooth. Especially against his own callused hands, the result of years of violin and piano playing.

Now with both of them standing he also got a better idea of the purple one’s height. He wasn’t short, but the pianist often looked like a tower whenever he stood next to anyone below 5’10”. He found the height difference between them to be rather endearing, and combined with the feel of the smaller hand grasped within his own he wanted nothing more than to whisk this customer off his feet. He was so suddenly willing to give this man whatever his heart desired after only a couple of minutes in his presence. A dangerous mindset for him to be in. One that could lead him down a very familiar destructive path.

[i I should be careful around you. I’ve been so well behaved lately, why am I willing to ruin that just for the chance to be around you more?]

The customer’s response to his question about strings kept his thoughts from spiraling further down the rabbit hole, lifting him from the endless darkness that lurked in his mind. Surprisingly, the purple one spoke rather confidently, declaring that he knew exactly what he needed. A sassy response complete with a hand on the hip. Yet, seconds later he sang a different tune after looking over the display again. Admitting defeat with crossed arms, he looked sheepish as he went into more detail about his string dilemma. He seemed more sincere, even with the sassy tone, though the shop owner didn’t mind one bit.

[i Why do you look so ashamed about asking for help? Are you used to doing things for yourself? That’s unfortunate. There’s no shame in asking for help. Should I tell you that?]

Nimble fingers straightened a few of the boxes on the rack, and he softened his expression before responding. [i You don’t have to worry, purple. I’ll help you.] A small smile spread across his lips, revealing a set of straight pearly whites.[#02407e “I appreciate the honesty. This shop is a no judgement zone, so don’t feel bad about not knowing something or asking for help. Nothing would please me more than helping you, but I’m afraid I can't recommend anything without knowing the strings that need to be replaced. I don’t want to waste your time or money with the wrong strings.”] He lightly stroked his chin, as if contemplating the best course of action despite already knowing exactly what he wanted to say. [#02407e “I’ll tell you what, how about you stop by again sometime with the guitar? That way I can take a look at which strings need replaced. I can replace them for you, free of charge, and you can watch so that you’ll know what to do next time. Does that sound good?”]

[i I hope it does. I would like to see you again.]
  / mephistopheles / 116d 36m 29s
[google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Slabo+27px]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/GxQ27q2.jpg?1]]
[Slabo+27px [center [size14 So deeply absorbed in the bombarding nagging of his own frustrations, the approaching footsteps fell on deaf ears, completely unnoticed. With nearly enough courage to get up and bolt, the man was seconds from rising to his feet. The voice however, made him jump, knocking his head against some of the overhanging boxes. Hands flailed out to secure that none went flying off the racks in his panic. Pulling dented face out of the boxes with a glare, he cast his eyes upward to- what somehow was the most attractive man he had ever seen. Breath lost for a moment as he listened to the man continue to speak, his eyes slowly began to narrow. How dare this handsome shit head scare him. And worse yet, think he didn’t know what he was doing. Obviously he was merely… resting? Yes, he was resting. Before he was rudely interrupted.

A kind hand was held out and somehow the fear of looking stupid was the last thing on his mind despite the extent of the worry he previously endured. Now was the time for a very important decision. Take it, or stand up on his own? His tanned skin was beautiful and his hand was probably so much larger than the purple haired’s own. He really did want to take it. But.. he wasn’t gay. Taking this man’s hand would look pretty gay wouldn’t it? No way he could do that, he was 100% completely straight. As straight as they came. No devilishly gorgeous man with the most intense yet caring eyes and the softest looking lips would ever… change that.

A huff was released and an uncontrollable heat in his cheeks spread that was only hoped to be unseen, he took the man’s strong hand and let him help hoist him up. A spark of some mostly suppressed desires that had been smoldering his whole life but rarely acted on came boiling like a storm to the surface. As expected, the other's hand was larger than his and the contrast between their skin tones was alluring. Wanting nothing more than to hold this guy's hand all day, he had to remind himself of how straight and not at all bisexual he was. He absolutely did [b not] have a preference for men. Not in the slightest. Regrettably, he retracted his hand and knew he [i must] rip his eyes away from the other, instead looking back to the strings. A safe haven from the drowning feeling that was gazing upon the other’s face.

What strings did he need? Shit, he should know that too. How could he be so absolutely dumb? The possibility of explaining that he needed all of them, to replace an entire set of strings was sounding fairly reasonable right about now. That was his safest bet at this point. [#9509e0 “Does it look like I need help? I know exactly what I need, thank you very much.”] Fuck. That wasn’t at all what he was going for. Rather stuck in what words spilled from his betraying lips, he held one hand on his cocked hip, pointing a finger over the display and scanning. [#9509e0 “Obviously I need.... Um..”]

With slowly squinting eyes and lips ever tightening into an unsettled pout, his eyes darted a bit before he whined and crossed his arms. [#9509e0 “Fine, I guess I need help so like.. You tell me what I need or something..”] There was no desire to admit the need for help nor was there as much anxiety about looking stupid. He had already achieved the peak of stupidity with his head in the strings trick. The gig was up though and he glanced at the worker with a sheepish expression that told of his uncertainty.

[#9509e0 “I don’t know what strings I need I just need some, okay? I don’t even know what like.. Model the guitar is but it’s acoustic and it’s old. Used to be my dad’s. So.. you can help right?”] Sure, it was fairly unnecessary for his tone to sound so sassy and borderline rude, but he had to be vulnerable to get all that out for god’s sake, he was trying his best. At least the last bit came out with genuine sincerity. An uneasy itch dug into the back of his neck, an itch that was soon scratched, somehow easing him a bit.]]
  ᴊᴜʟɪᴇɴ / Mun / 140d 6h 31m 41s
[google-font http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alegreya] [alegreya
[center [size14 [pic https://i.imgur.com/s31mgs2.jpg]

The afternoon in the music shop had been quiet, as it was on most weekday afternoons. A few people stopping in to buy small, miscellaneous items and one person stopping in to rent one of the soundproof rooms in the back to record a song.

Long, thin fingers drifted effortlessly across the white and black keys of an old piano. Each touch was with purpose. Some strikes against the keys soft, and others more intense to match the dark melody of the piece positioned on the music rack that sat within eye range of the pianist. The owner of the thin fingers sat perfectly straight atop the cushioned bench. Even sitting down, his tall height was apparent. Dark eyes followed his own fingers as they swept across the keys, barely glancing at the composition on the music rack.To an outside observer he would look as if he was lost in the music.Then, abruptly, his hands stopped playing and instead slammed down in frustration, creating a cacophony of sound that lingered in the otherwise quiet room.

The man grabbed the composition from the rack and looked it over. A slew of corrections, easily noticeable by the eraser marks, and notes in his tiny handwriting stared back at him.There was still something off about it. He fingered the pencil that rested behind his ear, hidden by the mess of chestnut hair. Removing the pencil, he held it above the paper but was hesitant to change anything. Normally, composing a piece didn’t take him this long, but lately he had been in a slump. It was hard to pin down what he needed to change to make it sound the way he wanted it to sound. Was he lacking the proper inspiration? If that was true then he would never finish the piece. Inspiration was fleeting, and moreover there was nothing in his life currently that sparked any inspiration or desire to create.

He pushed the original composition aside and closed his eyes. Two deep breaths. His fingers lightly touched the piano keys once again, though this time he wasn’t playing his own creation. The tune of Clair De Lune, L.32 filled the small shop. His fingers moved expertly, eyes still closed. He didn’t need sheet music for this song. The lovely melody filled every inch of the shop, entertaining an audience of no one. Just as the man really began to get into the song, the small bells above the door jingled. A signal that a customer had opened the door and was about to step inside. His hands froze, hovering over the keys as he watched the door, most of his face hidden by the top of the piano.

The customer was different than the people that typically frequented the shop, to say the least. Most of his customers were hipsters, children taking lessons, or older people. This young man was neither of those things. The pianist shifted, preparing to rise from the bench but stopped himself when he saw the young man spin around, seemingly taking in the shop. Like a kid in a candy shop. That expression applied perfectly to this customer.

[i Who are [b you?]]

[i Purple hair. I’m guessing that you want attention? You want to be noticed. After all, you don’t dye your hair purple if you want to blend into a crowd. Your style is fairly decent and you have an attractive face. Are you some kind of performer? Some local rockstar, perhaps?]

He watched the male wander over to the guitars. Yet, it seemed he was looking for strings, as the sight of them excited him. He even gave a whispered cheer, which was easy to hear in the close quarters of the shop. However, the cheerfulness disappeared as he looked over a strings pack. He put the pack back and looked through the other options to no avail.

[i No, I must be wrong. You seem a little confused by all of the options. A performer would know what kind of strings to get for their guitar. Maybe you’re a beginner. Oh, you’re putting your head down on the rack. Have you given up? You haven’t even asked for help.]

Finally, the brunette rose from the piano bench and put on a warm smile as he crossed the store to the rack of guitar strings. He leaned one elbow on the rack and looked down at the customer who had apparently decided to give up right in the middle of his store. [#02407e “A lot of options, right? I know it can be a little discouraging but I’m here to help. First, though, let me help you up from the floor. I’m not saying you can’t stay there and wallow in your sorrows, but it doesn’t look that comfortable,”] he spoke softly and offered an olive-complexion hand down to the other. [#02407e “Which strings do you need to replace?”]
  / mephistopheles / 140d 11h 48m 43s
[google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Slabo+27px]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/GxQ27q2.jpg?1]]
[Slabo+27px [center [size14 Hesitant steps drew near a local music store as they had many a time before. The glistening eyes of a young man fixated on the sign in trepidation. A heavy swallow to force down the anxiety did little to nothing at all, to the man’s dismay. He had been here before, time and again getting only this far, only able to stare but never to walk in. Despite the all too familiar encouragement he sang in his head, he knew it to be folly. Nothing he hadn’t told himself the last few times he had approached this establishment. What was a simple shop full of musical instruments and wares, was a hurdle of sorts to this one. Something told him to turn around and try again another time, though would that prove any more fruitful than the previous attempt? The one before that? Muscles tightened with his nerves as he readied to turn on his heels, however the cool touch of metal rested firmly in his palm shocked even himself. Apparently his body was done and tired of his cowardice. He was going in that store whether he liked it or not.

Strings. New guitar strings was all he needed. Inexperienced handling of the guitar that once belonged to his father long forgotten, had lead to multiple strings popping free from their binds with only the nasty grit of a sound in his ears. The anxiety felt had boiled up from this fact. The guitar had been in operable condition for as long as he could remember. And though he played, he knew himself that he was far from good at the art. Yet there was a sense of gratification he received when he heard the plucking of those strings. A calmness that washed over and relaxed him. It helped him to focus on something and in the same breath, to escape from everything. While he had set to teaching himself how to become better at playing the guitar, no progress could surely be achieved with a lack of properly functioning strings.

The issue then, was his lack of knowledge. As simple as walking into this music store and asking for help was, the man had pride. Admitting that he had a guitar to play with next to no familiarity with the instrument, not even enough to know what kind of strings to purchase? That was an absolute travesty. Something that kept him from coming here for weeks. Thankfully enough, his underlying desire to once again return his fingers to the chords and hear the out of tune, broken music of his own creation spurred him on. Once frozen feet now shuffled through the threshold and into a place that would unknowingly change every fiber of his existence.

Eyes wide with the childish sparkle of awe, the young man nearly spun in a full circle to take in everything his blue orbs could manage to spot. There were instruments and various supplies everywhere. It was truly breathtaking to someone who had the strong need to be creative. Even the walls held smaller instruments, some so high up he’d narily be able to reach without a ladder. Luckily he only needed strings today, though perhaps this place warranted a return visit for something more in his foreseeable future.

The man himself was a sight to behold. His bright purple hair, obviously dyed stood out like a sore thumb. While the hair framed around his face and head was cut in a short, layered style, hanging over his shoulder was a much longer ponytail of voluminous, just as layered hair. It was styled purposefully, and obviously very well taken care of. Under his right ear, opposite the side of his ponytail hung a decorative strand of beads with a dice charm at the end. Over a black v-neck shirt, he donned a dark green, heavy coat with a black fur collar. It looked to be just a bit too big for him, slightly baggy with sleeves that threatened to cover nearly half of his hands. With black, distressed skinny jeans and slightly faded black canvas shoes, his look was complete with a rather attractive face, albeit somewhat feminine for a male. If nothing else the man seemed to keep up with his appearances.

Suddenly spotting guitars, both acoustic and electric off on the far wall from where he stood, the enthusiastic male quickly and quite eagerly made his way over, all fear melted into excitement. Studying the guitars on the walls, he hummed and pinched at the side of his lip with his teeth in assessment. Some looked similar to the one he had. Yet, even then, he noticed no obvious sticker or sign on the instruments that specified which strings they required. Darting his attention back and forth, he noticed a rack below the guitars with small packs of strings spread across. Unable to keep his joy to himself for his accomplishment, the man cheered out in a yell of a whisper, [#9509e0 “Yes! Gotcha!”] A nearly manic giggle escaped his lips. This was easier than he expected.

Though as he picked up a pack and read it over, he felt as if he were cursed. Yes, that must be it. Despair washed over his face. Nothing on the thin box said [i clearly] for someone uneducated in music, which guitar those strings were for. No, it must just be this box in particular. Frantically placing it back and kneeling down to card through every other box, they all held the same results. He must be going insane. What kind of sick sadist would make strings so complicated? Did guitars even have mandatory types of strings or were all strings universal? Perhaps he could pick out any pack and they’d work. Right? Hand shakily reaching out, he hesitated, momentarily stopping above several boxes before letting out a disgruntled whine of disappointment. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head forward into the rack, the boxes pushing back and to the sides to accommodate for the sudden presence of the fluffy, purple foreign body. Or foreign head, rather.

He was fine with this. He could die, buried in these strings. These god awful stupid strings that caused more trouble than they were worth. Could he have just as easily asked a worker for help? At the chance of looking stupid? No way. It was out of the question. He knew he needed to get out of here quickly, otherwise he’d cause a larger scene than intended. Not that he intended to cause any scene at all. He could only hope that he hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention and make an attempt at escape. If he could just will himself out of his slump against this surprisingly comforting rack of metal hangers and hard cardboard boxes that threatened to dent his self pitying head.]]]
  ᴊᴜʟɪᴇɴ / Mun / 140d 7h 23m 7s
1

All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our
Privacy Policy, Terms of Service and Use, User Agreement, and Legal.
Roleplay
1