baylenfetch

[baylenfetch]

rather than going big for the ugly sweater contest, adrien had decided to put on his regular holiday sweaters. his taste in fashion was not excellent, anyway, by all accounts. although playing it safe meant that he tended to have pretty boring outfits in usual circumstances, his choice of clothing was probably the least terrible at an event where people actively tried to wear their worst sweaters. “you know, i have never felt this fuckin’ fashionable in my life. it’s a holiday miracle,” he said before sinking his teeth into a jam doughnut. 

Not owning any particularly festive outfits, Baylen had kept it simple with a long black coat. He’d had it for many years and it was beginning to look mangled along the edges, a tangle of frayed threads and mucky marks. “You look like a bauble.” Baylen muttered, not feeling overly festive but appreciative of the warm food and probably having eaten more than his fair share. “Don’t see the point to all this. Freezing my arse off for the sake of what? A few store bought snacks? I thought this might be boring, but, even I’m impressed with how committed it is to it.”

[baylenfetch]

diana stood there, halfway sitting on her bike as she watched the whole thing happen. she wasn’t going to lie, she felt a little… scared. she liked to give people the benefit of the doubt, but still, she had seen way too many angry people in her life to feel comfortable right now. “… o-okay.” she stammered, and took a few steps back on her bike. the way he looked at her was enough to make her nervous.

“do… do you need any help… with your phone?” she couldn’t help her curiosity. diana hated that about herself at the moment. she could be curious about anything else except for this right now.

Baylen squinted at the younger adult, unsure at first whether or not they were being serious. “This thing?” he held up his phone, as if it wasn’t obvious what she meant, but his head was in so many places at once that even a little bit of confirmation that he was on the right tracks would be comforting. “It’s fucked, mate.” he put it back in his pocket, trying to calm down. 

“It just chews up money. Didn’t get a single call out of my last top up. Piece of shit.” he snarled. He’d been trying to contact his sister, but with her so set on never speaking to him again, his money had all been spent on voicemails of varying length and desperation. He took a deep breath and tilted his head skyward, allowing the cold air to give him a moment to think. “S-Sorry.” he muttered after a few moments. “It’s all just a bit shit right now, isn’t it?”

[baylenfetch]

mike gave a friendly smile, nodding his head in response. “yeah, i might later. thanks for not kicking me away.” he joked, hoping the man wouldn’t take the joke too seriously like the previous one. mike was someone who couldn’t help but make jokes a lot of the time. it’s what happens when you spend too much time on stan twitter all night long, is what he always thought. mike quietly listened to him as he spoke, taking his laptop out and opening up the boring assignment he was given. he really could do it blindfolded, so he didn’t care that he was speaking to someone while doing it. “oh? i’m used to it, i guess? i don’t know. been playin’ with a computer ever since i was little when my mom got a desktop.” he explained with a little shrug. “my brain is already fried anyway.” mike chuckled. “why do you hate it?” 

“Yeah, s’alright.” he nodded, not wanting to come off as mean. He just preferred keeping himself to himself. He listened to the other’s tale of having grown up around technology. It was all very foreign to him. Even in the present day, his home town of Kalgoorlie probably didn’t have too much by way of technology. But, it especially didn’t when he was growing up. “That’s crazy you had a computer so young. I was in my mid-twenties when I got my first one. My friend had made it in prison and given it to me when he got out.” he nodded, remembering back to being that young and interested in change and new experiences. He was much too tired for that now. “It’s just not for me, is it? It’s all maths and electronics. I prefer art and things like that. Things with wiggle room. Computers either work or don’t, don’t they?”

[baylenfetch]

Ivy just calmly waved at the rest of the room. “Typically I wouldn’t invade anothers person space like this so trust me when I say I checked to see if there was another outlet and this is it.” She told him as she took a sip of her coffee. She wasn’t really a social butterfly, there were a few amount of people she enjoyed talking to so typically she wouldn’t just go up to anyone and try to strike up a conversation so really he had nothing to worry about if he also didn’t like conversations. She looked over at him as he spoke about his phone. “They only get worse every year, the older the phone gets the suckier the battery gets.”

“Fine, I guess.” he huffed, moving his seat along slightly to give the other more room. He looked around, just for the chance that he might see something the other had missed. “You’d think they’d realise that people that really want their phone to be alive probably don’t want to be huddled up next to each other.” he exhaled out of his nose, laughing slightly at his own statement. 

He tutted and rolled his eyes at the other’s comment about mobile phones. “Don’t see the need to go out and get a new one every year anyway. Mine’s, like, seven years old. Still rings just fine. Doesn’t need to have a gold jacket on or whatever it is they sell to you these days. Still rings, just for more money.”

[baylenfetch]

Trying his best to mask the laughter that threatened to leave his lips, Clay simply nodded at the man’s words. “Alright, fair enough. No biting it is, then.” The blond answered while he mocked a rather disappointed tone, taking a sip from his coffee before his eyes were back on the man. He shook his head at the question. “No, not an artist. It’s Clay as in Clayton but nobody really calls me that anymore but her.” Clay shrugged his shoulder, furrowed brows at the male’s ramble. “Baylen, huh? That’s a… different name. At least it stands out more than Tom or Steve, don’t ya think? You’re the first Baylen I’ve ever met.” He made the input, eyes glancing back towards the street outside the window.

“Yeah, been back for a few months now.” Clay vaguely answered, not comfortable with sharing too much about himself with the stranger. “What about you? Can’t say I see the appeal of Mapleview if you’re coming from Australia.” 

“Clayton? Never heard that one before. Sounds like crayon...” he trailed off before realising he may be seen as being insulting, which was by no means his intention. “It’s nice though. Being different is good. Except for if you’re in trouble though. If my name was mentioned back home, there was no doubt it was me that was about to get his ears chewed.”

“Were you on holiday or did you just go travelling? I haven’t really put any roots down here just yet. I’ve travelled about a bit, but here seems just fine for now. Nothing for me back home, so, why be anywhere? Y’know?” he shrugged, not wanting to get into any substantial topics of who fled from where and for why.

[baylenfetch]

“it’s… it’s just a joke. don’t worry about it.” he quickly explained what he said. mike smirked, feeling amused at what the man was saying. “well, not literally. i just mean that i almost always sit in this general area.” mike shrugged, chuckling. 

he took a seat, and tried so hard not to immediately took a sip, because he just knew he would burn his tongue yet again. it’s a stupid mistake that mike never failed to fall for. mike simply nodded in response. the man seemed to have a strange demeanor about him. mike didn’t know what to take from it, but he was someone who gave the benefit of the doubt. “oh… if you want me to sit far away from you, just say so.” he suggested with a friendly smile. “i’m just here to finish up a coding project i’ve got, and study up for exams.”

Raising his eyebrows, he nodded in conclusion to the other’s joke, already shrugging it off. He suspected it wouldn’t have been very funny even if he had understood it without an explanation. Although, even with one, he didn’t really find much sense to be had. “Oh right.” he finally added, quietly. He’d never supposed anyone would choose to sit in the exact same place every day. Despite him being the man who would only go to the store or listen to the radio if it were his assigned day for such. Some things made more sense than others to him and both probably made no sense to an outsider. 

“You can sit there. You probably need the...” he tapped his index finger on the table a couple of times, trying to remember the word. “The plug, socket, thing. For your laptop.” Feeling rather out of place, he pulled his drink closer to himself, still gripping onto the heat as if he would perish the moment it left. “I don’t understand how you kids all type so fast.” despite being an above average pianist, Baylen was one of those people who text using a single index finger, jabbing at each key as if it were a mode of attack. “I hate all of it, to be honest. Wish it would all just shut up. Does it not fry your brain looking at it for so long?”

[baylenfetch]

[baylenfetch]

“Lying? Who said I was lying? You’re probably just not attending enough Broadway productions these days. I’ve been told I’m the Southeast Asian Idina Menzel of the new generation. But, like, I’m more than just my race, you know? And I’m not here to be the next Idina. I’m here to be the first Primrose. Someone heard Idina crying ‘cause of me, though. Like, ‘oh, this kid is so talented, how can I compete?’” She snorted. Maybe if she actually devoted much time to music, there would be a small chance that she’d be threatening a superstar like Idina Menzel with her talent right now, but the obvious truth was that she was merely pulling his leg. More seriously, she admitted, “Music is… a nice distraction.” She said, “I’m doing pre-law in university. I’m very passionate about it. That doesn’t give me a lot of time to play music. But I do allot times for playing.”

Having no idea who Idina Menzel was, Baylen nodded in agreement to everything she was saying completely blindly. He hadn’t be ‘into’ music in a very long time. He listened to the same radio station two days a week. Tuesdays and Wednesdays. They occasionally played music but he never retained any of the information about it. He was already tired of Christmas songs sneaking into the environment when he was shopping.  

“I’m sure if you keep playing you can be as good as Indiana Jones, or whoever you said. Remember, never think of it as practising, you’re just playing.” That was advice his mother ha given to him as a child, advice which he regurgitated whenever possible. “Law, hmm?” he queried. Baylen had many run ins with the law in his lifetime. He didn’t consider any part of it to be necessary or beneficial to anyone. “You planning on being a judge or something? The powdered wig isn’t worth it, trust me. You’d be much happier on the piano.”

[baylenfetch]

atticus releases a breath he isn’t aware he’s holding when the other doesn’t scold him upon his explanation, the tension in his shoulders easing somewhat yet there’s still the situation at hand. placing a hand on his heart for a brief second, the teacher offers his new found companion a grateful grin and murmurs a soft “ legend; thank you. ” there should be a part of him that feels incredibly guilty for imposing on the other’s space, or possibly dragging them into something that has nothing to do with him but … the guilt is only slight. perhaps on another day he’d feel different, just not today. 

green eyes scan the vicinity for the woman he’s aiming to avoid, yet when he hears the thick australian accent he spins his head back around. it’s fair to say it’s taken him aback a little, evident by the way a grin creeps upon his lips. “ well uh, i hope i haven’t done anything. not this time anyway. ” atticus informs with a gentle tease, now focusing his attention to where exactly he’s pointing. “ no no, not her. i’m not quite sure who that is actually. ” nevertheless, she would be someone he’d want to avoid on a day like today anyway ─ in fact, perhaps atticus wants to avoid everyone except a select few, come to think of it. turning his gaze so that he’s not looking directly at the target, atticus discreetly points to the woman at the counter and begins to speak. “ see the woman in the blue sweater at the counter? she’s a lovely woman, god bless her soul. any other time i would stop and talk but … she just talks a lot about her child who’s not even in my class. does that make me a bad teacher? ”

Baylen gave a knowing nod. Sometimes playing the part for someone else was the difference between life and death. He didn’t know what the other man was up against. Besides, he felt it kind of thrilling to potentially be someone’s alibi. Who knew what crazy hijinks they could end up in together. It was almost exciting. 

All of his imagined plots and schemes came quickly to a stop when the other explained why they were causing such a hushed scene. “Oh, a mum, ay?” he nodded his head understandingly, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve come to the right place. I used to be a teacher, actually. In the process of getting back into it.” he lied, both to Atticus and himself. “And I was the best at avoiding the mums. They all think they’ve birthed a genius. None of them want to think they just might be average.” he thought for a while about back then. He didn’t really avoid people, they most likely wanted to avoid him, he was always coming down from something and looked like he’d been pulled through a sewer. His memories crashed back to reality and he continued. “So, what do you teach, Teach?”

[baylenfetch]

“have you really known fear until you’re in the kitchen by yourself at 2 am in the morning and you hear someone seemingly talking to you out of nowhere?” asked adrien. “‘cause the other day, i was just downstairs to drink some water at home and a radio was playing at our neighbors’. the pop star singing sounded like some ghost talking to me. i was shitting myself, honestly. i know i can be a bit grouchy, but i don’t think i quite deserve the ebenezer scrooge treatment.” he sighed. “please, holiday ghosts, leave me alone this season.” 

This was one of the weirder ways someone had introduced themselves to Baylen, but not the weirdest. He quickly settled on the idea that sharing weird stories was how they would connect and he attempted to see it through. He nodded slightly and took a sip of his beer. “I don’t believe in ghosts, personally.” he commented, “but, I’ve seen shit that wasn’t there and I’ve felt fear from it.” he paused, realising what he’d said made him sound concerning. “I mean, being alone on the streets at night, hearing a stray dog kick over a bin or something. It sounds so boring but when you’ve nothing to defend yourself and no one else is around.” he smirked and shook his head. “It’s honestly a one way trip to brown town, mate.”

[baylenfetch]

eden gives the gentleman a smile, she wasn’t mad at him, she just wanted her coffee, she was tired, “no worries” she says in reply. she tucks some hair behind her ear, “it’s not a common name” it’s true, eden’s mother thought it would be fun to give her a name that was a little bit different than the rest. “dude, don’t worry about it. it happens, oh yeah? what’s yours” she asks, “again, don’t worry about it. do you want me to get you another coffee?” she asks, taking the drink from him.

“It’s a nice name though. Biblical.” he commented aloud with a small nod of the head. “I’m Baylen, it’s also an unusual one. Even back home I didn’t meet another.” His mother had called him such due to his ginger hair, as his sister’s hair had been so blonde that it was almost perceived as white, it had been a pleasant change for their family and was documented on the day of his arrival. He gave an awkward laugh and looked away, “It was supposed to be a hot chocolate actually, its so cold I didn’t even notice that I’d lifted anything other than a cup of warm stuff.” he tapped his finger off of the table repeatedly, it was a release of nerves, but not necessarily bad ones. The lady seemed nice, but he wasn’t ready to relax just yet. “I’d really appreciate that actually, I don’t know where mine’s gone.” he began slowly fumbling in his pockets, trying to fish out his wallet. He had the money to buy another, it was the social interaction that was the real cost to pay at these places. However, his inner raccoon was hoping she’d tell him to put the money away. 

[baylenfetch]

“Sure.” The girl may not have been the most socially adept, but even she knew what that was code for. I don’t remember you. Or, I barely remember you. “I am still playing,” she affirmed. “And every time I press on the keys of my piano, I always think, ‘This one is for the man who helped me become the best instrumentalist that I could be! Mr. Baylen Fetch, you changed my life; I will never forget you!’” This was a lie, but who knew? Maybe this would bring a bit of cheer to the poor guy’s life. If nothing else, it’d be funny to see him react to her tall tale. Hey, she was human, like anyone else. Sometimes, she liked to mess with people.

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. Even he wasn’t going to believe that for a second. “Well, I’m glad you’re still playing, even if the rest of that was just you lying to my face.” he tilted his head forward ever so slightly. “Just don’t lie about playing. It’ll show next time you do.” he warned, with absolutely no right to do so. Baylen hadn’t played since before the accident. He’d been in the process of starting up again for almost a year now. Not a single key had been touched within that time. “So, what are you doing now in the big bad world? Been a while since I saw you and I’ve yet to hear that devotion spiel at the beginning of any broadway numbers, so I’ll take it music is more of a passion?”

[baylenfetch]

Ivy was on her daily mission of getting some coffee before going into work. There was no way she’d survive the work day later if she didn’t drink some coffee now and now that it was freezing she needed a warm coffee drink more than ever. After she ordered her coffee she looked at her phone noticing that the battery was low and she needed to charge it and it was a good think she always had an extra charger in her purse. She looked around the room and found an outlet but there was already a person sitting near it. But she wasn’t one to shy away and she needed to check her emails without her phone dying so she made her way over. What she wasn’t expecting was for the person sitting there to snap at her for coming over. “I’m just going to plug my phone in so it doesn’t die.” she told him even though Ivy being her typical self felt like she didn’t really owe him a response on why she was over here to begin with but that was just her mentality with everything.

Baylen exhaled sharply out of his nose. “And it has to plug in right there, does it? There’s none even a bit further away?”, as much as his asking felt pushy and sarcastic, he was also wondering this for himself. Silently relieved that she seemingly wanted nothing to do with him, he turned away, blowing onto his drink as if to cool it, but really hoping to push the hot air towards his face. After a few moments of feeling uncomfortable with the other’s persistent presence, he looked once again to his phone. It was old and cracked in more than one place, but he didn’t care about it enough to fix it. He checked that he had no notifications, even though he rarely had any at all. “I don’t know how you manage to wear these things out so fast anyway.” he sighed, “It’s just a brick of shit”

[baylenfetch]

[baylenfetch]

THE UNCOMFORTABLENESS CAUSED by Clay does not go unnoticed by him and he was incredibly amused by the stranger. “Yeah, biting.” He simply said as if the man had actually made a question. His blue orbs stayed trained on the other as he clearly struggled with trying to assort his words, only sipping away on his warm drink and enjoying the show. “I felt nostalgic today. This used to be where I sat in my younger days. Not that I spent too much time in coffee shops or anything.” Clay scoffed before he looked back at the stranger. “I’m sorry, man.” He finally said, a laugh escaped his lips as he placed his mug on the table. “I actually didn’t mean to bother you. I was just messing with you before. I’m Clay.”

Painfully unaware of his own outlandish behaviour, Baylen was too set on the idea that the other was trying to cause him harm or at the very least severe discomfort, which was proving successful. “No biting.” he stated, more of a plea than a demand. The other’s unwavering eye contact was a searing hot light  burning into Baylen’s skin, like a bug under a magnifying glass. He squirmed in discomfort. 

When the other started laughing, Baylen tried to laugh back but was still concretely disturbed, causing it to just seem overly forced. “Clay...” he tried to centre his thoughts, repeatedly tapping his fingers off of the table. “Like modelling clay. Was your mum an artist?” he began to ramble, his heart, somehow not yet bored of almost permanently doing so, was still hammering away against his ribcage. “I’m Baylen, it basically means ginger, which was probably cruel of my mum to name me. It’s of French origin and I’m clearly Australian, why didn’t she go with Tom or..Steve.” He fell silent. 

“Have you just come back here or something?” he exhaled, catching his breath.

[baylenfetch]

something didn’t feel right to diana, and she didn’t know what to do about it. earlier that day, she had walked past the southern bean coffee shop while on her way to run some errands at the grocery store. while normally nothing would catch her attention in the windows of that shop – she never liked their drinks to begin with, – today her eyes settled on a man twice her age, talking to her young unrelated cousin. again, diana normally would not care, and like normal, she continued walking. but something about the way he looked and shifted in his spot made her concerned. 

it’s been about half an hour, and she was now on her way back to chestnut drive to take the groceries home. she had put the reusable bags in the basket she had at the back of her yellow bicycle, and took off. that is, until her eyes settled on that man again, now walking down the sidewalk while looking at his phone. diana couldn’t help but slow down and stare at him from a little distance behind him. he looked annoyed, like something he just read or saw on his screen disturbed his peace. diana could’ve just passed him and cycled back home, but she found herself approaching him slowly on her bike, while still keeping her distance. she thought she could easily cycle away if he turned out to be some creep. “uh, sir… is everything okay?”

Baylen wasn’t great with technology. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand it, he just refused to keep up with its ever advancing ways. His phone did what he needed it to and that was all that mattered. He’d been trying to contact his doctor for some time now. However, they were only available for calls for half an hour a day and the line was almost permanently engaged. Having redialled more times than he was willing to recount, he’d finally gotten put on hold, his phone was to his ear and his fingers were anxiously tapping along the back case. Suddenly, the hold music cut off and his ear was assaulted with four sharp tones. He looked to the screen: ‘insufficient credit.’

“Fucking - argh!” he barked in frustration, throwing his phone only to have to go pick it up again. “Stupid!” his snarls were stopped only by the intrusion of a voice. An unrecognised voice much softer and younger than anyone he’d know or want to know. He looked the stranger up and down, the bicycle enough to put him off answering. He disliked cyclists. The other was young, seemingly innocent. Not something he wanted to have the credit of destroying. “Everything is just great.” he answered through gritted teeth. He paused, distracted by his phone vibrating as it warned it was powering off due to low battery. His eyes bounced from the phone back to the strange lady. “Just great.” he repeated. “Jog on...” he paused, making a hand gesture for the other to leave. “Cycle..”

[baylenfetch]

“Yeah. That’s one way to greet one of your favorite students,” teased Primrose. Well, former students. And she didn’t really know how he felt about her. It was difficult to tell. Still, although he wasn’t the most forthcoming about his problems — particularly because he himself was blind to them — the girl always felt that something was up with him. She pitied him. “I’m just avoiding some people from church. Don’t you remember me? Primrose Dagohoy. Not to brag, but amazing young piano player who likes to bring boxes of chocolate milk to practice?”

“Primrose..” he repeated, slowly and softly. It had been a while since he’d played piano himself, let alone taught anybody. A lot had happened since. A lot of things he didn’t want to think about. He began to realise that this person knew an older version of him, one that had been buried under stupid decisions and scrap metal. “Ah, Prim!” he gave a soft smile, he vaguely remembered her, but didn’t want to make her feel bad. “How are you finding it out there in the big world? Still playing, I hope.” he furrowed his brow in playful sternness, “I don’t have favourites. I like all of you equally.” a tired smile scrawled across his face. It was nice to be somebody else for a little while, even if that somebody was just yourself, but, a better version.