[OPEN] 'Cause you sing like you're supposed to..

[nashville 'nash' aspen greer]

Nash thanked the girl at the counter with a gesture of his wrist from his chin, then walked to a table in the corner. He could barely hear the people around him talking; it sounded like a drone of a TV in a back room of a house- it was there, and you could hear it, but words and phrases weren't able to be distinguished.

He stuck his spoon into the treat, and took a small bite of it. He looked out the window at the couples passing by, hand in hand. He watched them, wondering what it was like to hear your other whispering into your ear, to be able to hear their voice. He took another bite, letting it melt in his mouth before looking down at the magazine he had just bought. He flipped it open, scanning the pages in silence.

[dylan flambyte parker]

"You slept with my fucking girlfriend and now she's sick! What the hell shit are you spreading? Some STD?!"

Dylan grunted at the hit against his chest. "She'll be fine," He snapped. 'She's not pregnant..it won't kill her.' He felt nothing towards the woman however, nothing towards the teared up guy beating on his chest.

Cocking an arm back he socked him in the face, the returning blow backing him into a table some guy was at. "Fuck." He wiped at the gush of blood from his nose, glad it wasn't broken. Teeth gritted, his eyes blazing dangerously as he stepped forward with all intentions of dragging the guy who had hit him outside and ripping that head off his shoulders.

[nashville 'nash' aspen greer]

Nash could hear screaming, but only bits and pieces of the words. He turned the page in his magazine, taking a bite of his ice cream substitute. He was used to screaming; his dad and his ex wife always screamed. Especially after they got divorced. They still scream at each other to this day. He fixed the beanie on his head, reading the article carefully. He put the spoon in his mouth, and looked up at the two guys fighting. A few people were trying to break them up, so he just moved one seat away, looking back down at his magazine.

[dylan flambyte parker]

Dylan snarled in agitation, shouldering people away angrily. People holding him back were beaten, and he only calmed when the other guy stormed out.

Yelling at people to stay away from him, he dropped angrily into the now empty table and snatched up a napkin, holding it so his nose, knuckles white where he gripped the table.

Working his jaw in agitation, he closed his eyes. 'I'm such a fuck up..I don't even feel for anyone, why the hell to I have to be a damn monster that can even fall in love for once? I'm done with shitty people..done with it all.!'

[nashville 'nash' aspen greer]

Nash looked over at the guy. He looked like he could take Nash's head off in one swing. But so did his step dad. And he tried to give Nash everything he wanted.

The boy pulled a note pad out of his back pocket, flipping it open. He usually tried to avoid people, but the guy looked like he just needed a little comfort. And if Nash could do that, then he guessed he would be okay with being forward for one. He wrote on the pad in his tiny hand writing, then put it on the table in front of the guy.

'It's okay. No need to be upset.'

[dylan flambyte parker]

Dylan glanced up as the pad of paper bumped into his elbow, lips curling as he spun to glared at him. "I have every reason," He snapped, then studied him a moment, almost curiously, eyed the pad.
"You mute or something? Deaf?" He almost sneered, but managed to just barely bite it pack, gesturing to his throat, then ear in sequence to his words, eyes still glaring and agitated, the now bloody napkin held firmly to his nose.

[nashville 'nash' aspen greer]

Nash watched him for a moment, reading his lips. "I lost.. most of my hearing.." He choked out, pointing to his ears beneath the beanie. 'My step mother tried to poison me. I lost most of my hearing because of it. And my lungs are failing.' He wrote, then nudged it towards him before taking another bite of his melting treat. He could feel his tongue starting to go numb.

"-can.. read your lips i-if you.. don't talk too fa-ast.." He coughed into his hand, the effort of speaking making his throat hurt. He could hear the words in his head, faint and far away. He wrung his hands together above the table, looking over at the guy.

[dylan flambyte parker]

Dylan tilted his head, watching him curiously, glancing at the notepad to read the rest of the explanation. He drew the bloody napkin away from his nose, replacing it with another clean one. He leaned over, snatching up the pencil in his hand. 'You sign? I learned from a guy I know.'

He slid it back over. He only got along with Terance because TJ didn't argue, and was quiet. And when there was nothing to argue about or pick at, when somebody didn't annoy him, he could tolerate them. But Dylan didn't have 'friends'. Didn't feel he could ever be safe doing so, didn't like himself and therefore couldn't like others.

[nashville 'nash' aspen greer]

He looked down at the paper and nodded. 'But most people prefer this. It's a lot less complicated.' He wrote, pushing it back. He finished off his frozen yogurt, pulling the magazine back in front of him. He closed it, tapping his fingers on the cover. He didn't expect this guy to talk to him. He didn't expect him to sit there much longer, to be honest. The boy didn't seem like the kind to care much about a kid who couldn't hear. He could always have something else to do. Like watch paint dry or grass grow.

[dylan flambyte parker]

Dylan shrugged. 'To be honest anything is better than listening to people bitch and moan.' He passed it back, keaning back and tilting his head, waiting for the blood to finish clotting before cleaning off any blood around his nose. Getting up, he tossed the napkins in the trash, then returned.

He didn't know why he sat back down, but he did. Maybe it was the spur of the moment, maybe because he was avoiding going back to the tattoo parlor.
He removed his leather jacket, revealing fully sleeved arms, more tattoos peaking from the neck of his shirt.