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Post by sean michael cutler on Feb 29, 2012 20:02:41 GMT -5
Sean had been singing all morning, needed the practice and it was something to do on the weekend before he headed to the high school for his weekend vocal lesson outside of school. He finished his song, setting his guitar down. Not a lot of people here, but that was okay. He wasn't here to entertain though, just sing. Stretching, he smiled faintly at a boy he passed, heading towards the counter to order a coffee. He hadn't even eaten breakfast yet, asked for a muffin and a black coffee.
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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 29, 2012 20:13:01 GMT -5
Nash watched the guy pass, and then looked back down at his book. He wrote something down in his notebook, pulling his beanie down over his ears. This virus or whatever it was he had caught was kicking his butt. He felt like crap, and it didn't help that he had so much class work to do.
"Rational emotive behavior therapy was first developed by psychologist Albert Ellis during the 1950s." He mumbled to himself as he wrote it down in the notebook, his voice quiet and barely audible. He turned the page, continuing to read the article. He coughed into his jacket sleeve, then sniffled. 'I feel like crap..' He thought, pulling his sleeve down over his hand.
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Post by sean michael cutler on Feb 29, 2012 20:20:55 GMT -5
Sean took a seat at an empty table, groaning softly as he stared down at a text. Labelled at a sexual predator for one mistake, it was a shock he worked for the high school. Especially his after school private lessons aside from his teaching. He just had to get validated every month, get information that said even though it was on his record, he was clean.
He still had a good while before they dropped it from his record. Setting his guitar across the table, he glanced at the others quietly, biting into his muffin and taking a sip of coffee. He made a face, swallowing the scorching liquid with a wince, coughing in surprise.
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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 29, 2012 20:37:50 GMT -5
Nash glanced up as the guy sat down, then continued to study the article in his text book. He didn't want to be studying, he wanted to be at home, under the covers. He felt horrible. He got up from the table to throw away his empty cup and get a new one. He banged his leg on the table and doubled over.
"Ow.." He groaned. He rubbed his leg, walking over to the counter. He got another coffee, and walked back to his table, sitting down. He sighed, taking a sip of it. He sat it next to the book, trying to find where he left off.
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Post by sean michael cutler on Feb 29, 2012 20:43:46 GMT -5
Sean's lips parted, about to ask if he was alright, but the guy seemed to shake it off. He shrugged, picking his guitar up and kicking his feet up on the table, leaning back in his chair some and beginning to play with quick fingers, humming in the hushed area. A little girl with her mother smiled, and he smiled faintly. He began to sing again, not sure why he was in the mood for the current artist. Maybe just the setting of the calm area. Soon he was completely lost in the music, facial expressions, every movement he made, as if the song were a simple expression of himself.
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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 29, 2012 20:58:08 GMT -5
Nash couldn't hear him, no matter how close he was. He laid his head down on his arm, switching his notebook to the other hand. He slowly started writing the article's most important notes. He was probably the only one in the place who wasn't watching the guy. But he wouldn't know. He couldn't hear him. He yawned, turning the page. He propped the book up in front of him, looking up at it to read it. He put his phone in one corner and his coffee in the other.
'If I lay like this much longer I'm going to fall asleep..' He thought.
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Post by sean michael cutler on Feb 29, 2012 21:04:58 GMT -5
Sean soon decided on playing guitar quietly. He didn't know what time it was really, it didn't matter. A few people came and went, not lingering long after they had what he needed. After awhile longer he set it down, glancing over at the male who was still there through the entire time.
He couldn't deny he was attractive, but he seemed busy and uninterested. He shrugged it off. It didn't really matter.
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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 29, 2012 21:19:13 GMT -5
Nash's youngest sister came bouncing up to him, tapping him on the head. "Nash." She said, but he didn't look up. "NASH!" She screamed in his ear and he looked up.
'Can't hear you.' He signed, sitting up. He rubbed his eyes, a yawn passing his lips. She took his paper, writing down that his mom wanted him home now.
"T-tell mom she can.. screw off." He said flatly, turning back to his book. His sister was talking, but he couldn't hear her. She bopped him on the head and he groaned.
"Listen!" She fussed, stomping a foot.
"I c-can't hear you!" He retorted, and she walked off in a huff. His hearing was much worse since he was sick. He could only hear someone if they literally screamed in his ear.
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Post by sean michael cutler on Feb 29, 2012 21:27:50 GMT -5
Sean glanced up at the fuss, frowning. So he was deaf? Made sense enough. Shrugging, he finished his coffee and muffin and got up, throwing them away. He smiled faintly as he passed the guy, blue eyes vibrant, though he refused to let them have any persuasion over anything. He hoped to make him feel at least a little better if he could.
Yawning softly, he rubbed at his face, reaching for the folder by his guitar and flipping it open to grade homework.
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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 29, 2012 21:37:23 GMT -5
Nash watched him go, something about his eyes drawing him in. He didn't know why, but he had the urge to go sit by him, see what he was doing. It's like everything else had been erased from his mind. 'He's not human..' He thought, thinking that very few species had the ability to lure people in, especially Nash. He was a merman. His voice was alluring. But his step mother had cheated him out of that.
He watched him carefully, pulling his coffee towards himself. He was about to raise it to his lips when his mother came in through the door, her heels clicking on the tile. "Still looking at guys." She said, but he didn't hear. He looked up, drawing his eyebrows together.
"I d-don't have to come.. home. I'm nineteen." He said. And he had no intentions of going back to her house. She grabbed him by the ear, yanking him up. "Ow!" He cried, the pain worse because of his infected ear. He scrambled to his feet, wishing so bad that Dylan was here. 'She's gonna finish what my step mom started..' He thought, unable to hear her screaming.
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