adrianmasri

[adrianmasri]

19, 40, 48

19. What book did you love as a child?

"Goodnight Moon, I think it was."

40. Where do you see yourself within the next five years?

"I don't know. Five years older, I guess. Hopefully a whole lot wiser."

48. What's the most ridiculous thing you believed when you were a child?

"That a blanket can protect you from anything."

[adrianmasri]

Here he was. Again. Letting himself get grated by the waitress at Shooter's. He liked it, though. It made him smirk, amused to say the least, and as she turned to face him, he doubled down, scooting just ever so slightly closer. He wasn't sure why he enjoyed being around someone mean to him — he didn't usually swarm to that kind of treatment, but maybe he stayed because he knew she couldn't deny some sort of lone spark that had ignited between them. Was it just lust? Either way, he was grateful. His head had bowed listening to her, concealing his smile, as if the words rolling off her tongue were some sort of dirty joke. He shook his head, lifting his gaze to meet hers, "I drink whiskey when I want to drink whiskey, I don't touch gin, and," He flashed the inside of his coat, "My pockets are empty." He countered, and though she thought she knew him, he knew whatever figment of the imagination that shrouded her gaze of him was all just skin deep. A dream. If he could keep it up, maybe she wouldn't be bored with him.

"You're off," He leaned in, speaking closely to her ear, "And I'm here because I liked what I saw at Shooter's." And just as casually and swiftly as he'd leaned in, he leaned back out, away from her. The bartender then asked him what he wanted, and he ordered the only thing that came to mind: a beer. Not that he would drink much of it anyway. As cool and as calm as he appeared, he was really just a man, heart beating fast, nervous, and at the whim of whatever she wanted. He was only mortal, after all. His drink was ushered quickly to him, but he didn't touch it, although she tapped her egregiously ridiculous fish bowl of a glass against it. 'Cheers to bad decisions and whatever this is turning into'. Only then did he lift the glass to his lips to take a sip, and only then did he peel his eyes from her own. Her challenge was enough, however, to prompt him to take her hand and begin pulling her out to the floor, "Lead the way."

she watched him like she already had him figured out — not in that dismissive way most people did, but in the way that made you feel seen even if you didn’t know what she was seeing. there was heat in her stare, but something cooler just beneath it. curiosity, sure. maybe something else. a flicker of recognition she didn’t want to name. her drink hit the bar with a quiet thunk as she turned toward him fully, shoulder brushing his now, casual but deliberate. she didn’t bother pretending she hadn’t noticed the way his gaze had trailed over her — it was part of the game, and bex always played to win. “don’t need your name to clock your type,” she said, low and certain, like the bass was vibrating the words out of her lungs. her gaze flicked down, then back up, steady and unflinching. “you walk in like you’re allergic to being looked at too long, but your whole vibe begs for attention. the jacket. the jaw. the whole i might write a novel if i get my heart broken one more time energy. it’s not subtle.” there was something amused behind her words, but not cruel. if anything, it was teasing, affectionate in its own jagged way — bex didn’t throw her interest around casually. if she was poking, it meant she was intrigued. “lemme guess,” she continued, fingers now trailing the condensation of her fishbowl glass like she was tracing constellations, “you drink whiskey when you wanna remember, gin when you wanna forget. keep some beat-up notebook in your jacket with half the pages filled with shit you’d never admit to writing. tell people you’re fine, but your playlists say otherwise.” she let that sit for a second, then met his eyes again, a little smirk curling her lips. “or maybe i’m way off and you’re just here ‘cause someone told you the bartender from shooters wears less clothing when she’s off the clock.” her eyes sparkled with mischief. “spoiler alert — they weren’t wrong.” bex leaned in slightly, scent of tequila and something citrusy clinging to her skin, voice pitched just for him beneath the pulse of the music. “you’re here. that counts for something. so—” she picked up her glass again, tapped it lightly against the rim of his beer with a faint clink — “cheers to bad decisions and whatever this is turning into.” and then, without warning, her tone shifted — still playful, still edged with that wicked humor, but something deeper threaded underneath. like she was inviting him in while daring him to try. “but let me warn you,” she murmured, voice brushing his ear like smoke, “this place doesn’t do half-hearted. you either get in the pit or get outta the way.” she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again, eyebrow arched in challenge, lips glistening from her drink. “so, what’s it gonna be? you gonna dance, or just stand here looking like the poster boy for brooding regret?”

[adrianmasri]

[adrianmasri]

WINDSOR BAY ASK MEME #1

This meme runs from June 30th-July 3rd

Welcome to Windsor Bay's very first ask meme! Before we jump into all the fun, we just want to go over a few basic ground rules. This is not mandatory but, if you reblog this post you MUST send out questions to everyone participating. Please try to check the re-blogs tab as often as you can, as not everyone is always online at the same time. Keep in mind that ask limit is unfortunately one annoying thing that everyone is bound to run into at one point or another. So don't get discouraged if your inbox doesn't overflow with questions right away, it may just take a bit of time to do so! Keep in mind that answering questions does NOT count as a form of activity and that replies should not be pushed to the side or completely ignored during this allotted time. Last but not least, have fun!

Below the cut are a list of numbered questions to send:

What's your go to karaoke song?

Are you close to your family?

Do you have any tattoos or piercings?

What's your biggest fear?

Describe yourself in five words.

When you're sad, what's something you do to cheer yourself up?

How long would you last in a zombie apocalypse? Would you have a certain strategy?

Do you collect anything?

Where do you feel the most at home?

What's the worst thing you've done out of spite?

What are your best and worst childhood memories?

Are you a good cook?

What is looped around your key ring?

If you owned a castle, what would you want it to look like?

What's a deal-breaker when it comes to dating someone?

What's your favorite candy?

Who was your first kiss?

Who or what makes you feel safe?

What book did you love as a child?

What toppings do you order on your pizza?

How do you deal with failure?

When things break, do you prefer to fix them or replace them?

What would you consider a perfect day?

Would you consider yourself an optimist, pessimist, or realist?

Do you believe in the phrase “opposites attract”?

How would you want to be remembered after you die?

If you could go back in time and give advice to your younger self, what would you say?

What's the most useless fact you know?

What small change in a sport would make it more entertaining?

What's a genuinely hurtful comment you can't forget?

What is your relationship status?

Do you think people can truly change or do they just learn how to hide their flaws better?

What's the pettiest hill you're willing to die on?

What's something you've forgiven but haven't forgotten?

If animals could talk, what kind of animal would gossip or cause the most drama?

What's something you hate that everyone else seems to love?

If your life had a narrator, what voice actor would you want it to be?

If your love life had a Yelp review, what would it say?

If you were arrested with no explanation, what would your friends and family think you did?

Where do you see yourself within the next five years?

Do you prefer the beach or the pool during summertime?

What's one song you've had stuck in your head or on repeat recently?

What was your favorite board game as a child?

What is your most treasured possession?

If given the opportunity to go on a date with your celebrity crush, which restaurant would you take them to?

Which Disney princess are you most afraid of?

What's a smell that immediately transports you back in time?

What's the most ridiculous thing you believed when you were a child?

If you were a ghost, what place would you haunt and why?

What's a completely irrational fear that you have?

[adrianmasri]

"Well," Adrian began, "It looks like my non-existent schedule just cleared up, so dare I say I have time for the long story?" He jested lightly, although he commended the way the other was ultimately so open. They had just met after all. Adrian couldn't ever envision himself telling anyone much about anything, never mind someone he'd met on the street. Although, wouldn't that be the perfect person to unload all onto at the end of the day? Just someone who happened to be standing there — someone you may not see again. Either way, it was at the very least admirable. He wished he could be more that way, he really did, but something paralyzed him. Nevertheless, he was a better listener anyway. Adrian put his hands in his pockets and began to stroll. The sun was still high up in the sky, but falling over the overcast day, "Hit me, man. I'm all ears."

"yeah, that's for sure," leon starts walking with the stranger. he feels rather comfortable with him. making acquaintances and friends from scratch is hard, and weird. but sometimes, there are people like adrian who leon thinks could get along just fine. "nice to meet you, too," he nods his head and tilts his head to one side as he considers the term washed up in town. you could definitely say that about leon. "listen, i got a long story and a short story," the blond chuckles. the long story would let the other know about the tours, the heartbreaks, the writing sessions in chile. the short story, well it's more of the superficial version of the whole thing. "i think you should choose carefully," leon jokes. the town they walk through isn't crammed by all means. only a few people walking on the sidewalk across. the blond isn't someone who's very private. he usually overshares -a lot- and it doesn't really bug him. but it does make him feel bad if the others aren't interested, so it's best to keep to himself. he wonders what it'll be today.

[adrianmasri]

A flash of flirtatiousness — a turn he couldn't have said he'd expected. Most of his customers were nice, but not that kind of nice, though he made no attempt or had no intent of thwarting off the attention. He wasn't usually certain if someone was interested in that way; he never assumed, mostly to avoid the great sense of disappointment when that answer was 'no', but he felt he had a grasp on this particular instance. She was digging him. Ivelisse. And he couldn't help but feel pulled in by the melody she was playing, one that was fun, a bit bold, and most importantly, keen on him. He laughed lightly, "Chat you up? And here I thought I was just helping a loyal customer," Adrian teased, turning around briefly to retrieve his phone. "We close at eight, so in uh- fifteen minutes," He told her, turning back around to face her. "Listen, if you want, just text me what you're in the mood for and I'll pick it up." The male insisted, pulling up his messages, and setting the device down in front of her for her to use, "I'll send you my address and you can meet me over in, I don't know... Forty-five minutes?" An offer that seemed fair, or so to him. It gave him enough time at least, to get the food, get home, and pick up the clothes that had certainly been left on his floor. This whole thing was nuts, but in a good way — a spontaneity he didn't know he needed.

she  was  young,  but  that  didn’t  mean  she  was  naive.  ivelissse  had  been  forced  to  toughen  up,  to  put  her  expectations  and  needs  out  on  the  table  and  almost  daring  people  to  take  them.  there  was  no  time  anymore  for  boys  that  were  nervous,  that  stepped  around  what  they  wanted,  and  she  was  pleasantly  surprised  when  adrian  took  that  bait.  was  it  too  soon  to  consider  moving  on ?  was  there  still  a  portion  of  her  heart  that  was  grey  and  withered  and  numb ?  absolutely.  but  how  could  they  deny  the  spark  that  neither  of  them  had  been  expecting ?  “amongst  other  things,”  ivelisse  hummed,  keeping  her  cards  close  to  her  chest  —  for  the  moment,  anyway.  he  was  also  a  man  that  had  taken  her  by  surprise,  caught  her  off  guard  ;  someone  cute  and  kind  and  knowledgeable  with  a  rockstar  sort  of  look.  historically  their  taste  in  men  hadn’t  been  all  that  great.  criminals  and  ruffians,  hooligans  that  found  thrill  in  scaring  others  and  terrorising  those  that  were  beneath  them.  adrian  was  sweeter  than  that,  a  ripe  fruit  after  years  of  sourness.  “and  someone  i'm  intrigued  by.” she  hadn’t  had  any  plans  after  the  visit  to  the  record  store.  if  adrian  hadn’t  offered,  they  would  have  likely  returned  to  their  small  trailer  on  the  mountainside  and  listened  to  a  record  or  two.  they  would  have  taken  a  seat  on  one  of  their  fold - out  camping  chairs  and  watched  the  sun  disappear  behind  the  clouds,  falling  asleep  beneath  starlight.  this  was  a  better  outcome.  whether  it  went  anywhere  or  not,  wasn’t  the  boy  worth  taking  a  chance  on ?  “takeout  and  a  movie.  now  you’re  speaking  my  language.  and  i’ll  take  this—”  she  pulled  a  sleeve  out  of  one  of  the  nearby  boxes ;  power,  corruption  &  lies  by  new  order,  “—so  that  you  can  say  you  weren’t  totally  using  your  shift  to  chat  somebody  up  if  someone  asks  what  you  were  doing  for  the  last  half  an  hour.  when  do  you  close ? ”  maybe  she  would  have  time  for  a  quick  cigarette  before  they  went  back  to  his  place,  or  maybe  a  moment  to  run  a  comb  through  their  hair.  it  was  rare  that  ivelisse  cared  much  about  their  appearance  ;  looking  as  though  she  had  slept  in  eyeliner  from  the  day  before  was  all  part  of  the  look.

[adrianmasri]

— ADRIAN A. MASRI —

❝ It does not matter where you've been, my friend, only that you have been, and that you have returned, here, unwavering, with stories unbound. So, unburden all.❞ - written on a Moonlight Diner napkin, crumpled up on a half-eaten plate, mindless, and disposed of by the end of the night by a busboy simply on his way out.

[adrianmasri]

Flattered, he was at the very least that she'd been more than willing to accept the wrapped mystery record that he had chosen. He was iffy on the premise — it was a commitment, and the price of the vinyl was no less the same as if you'd picked it off the shelf. So at the very least, he was flattered that she was willing to take his pick. No one else's. Just his. That had to mean something, didn't it? Or was it just out of pity? He handed it to her regardless, his eyes scanning her face, watching her smile grow into something absolutely contagious. He matched it, dimpled, "Yeah, I think you'll like it." He told her, more seriously this time, as he hoped she would believe that he would only steer her in a good direction. He could help but match her expression, the male dragging his tongue over his bottom lip before biting down. Playful. He mirrored her movements subtly, "And if you don't, come back and find me." Adrian looked down at her mouth, pausing, his honeyed eyes interested, "I'll make sure you leave satisfied."

"Yeah, I'm sure we do," He made a gesture for her to follow with his hand, and led her down to the 'B' section in their rock corner. Quickly, he flipped through, plucking Abbey Road out, along with their other two albums they had in stock, Let It Be and Revolver, setting them out side by side, "This will be all the Beatles we have." He told her, leaning against his elbow that was propped on a box of records. The male quickly ran his hands through his hair, almost nervously, and certainly boyishly as he watched her. Their eyes connected, and he said nothing, but she looked away, and feeling rather dumb, he shook his head gently, "Sorry-" He lightly laughed, looking back up at her, "I uh- I have to know your name." The male told her, suddenly realizing that he may have been a bit too forward, if not frictional with his words, "— I mean," And extended a hand, "I'm Adrian. It would be a pleasure to officially meet you."

"Maybe I'll save it for sometime in the future when I'm feeling spontaneous." She loved the idea behind the blind date with a record, but her music taste was far too mainstream and she knew the wrapped up records were most likely from artists she had never heard of before. "Well, if you picked this one, maybe I'll reconsider." She reached out for the vinyl and tucked it under her arm, making the decision to buy it and see what this man's music taste was all about. It was hard not to notice the man's cheeks flushing with a light blush. Phoebe couldn't help but bite at her bottom lip as she tried to contain her growing smile.

Her eyes lit up at the mention of The Beatles, then again everyone was a fan of the classic band in one way or another. The blonde followed behind to the appropriate bin and added his next recommendation into her growing pile of new music. "Well I think these two are a good start when it comes to new music." Her eyes locked with his, as her lips turned upwards into a bright smile. "Well you mentioned The Beatles when talking about Flyte, and that had me wondering if you happen to have Abbey Road?" That album happened to have one of her favorite songs of all time, Here Comes the Sun.

[adrianmasri]

He laughed at her joking jester, two hands raised to signify paws. A werewolf. As if. The irony amused him, as she was no beast. Nowhere even close. Actually, she was quite the opposite of him, dare he even call her impression cute. She'd proven that, at least he'd thought she had. It struck him—and he hoped that he was wrong—that if he were to tell her that he thought she was a nice girl, she'd disagree with his assessment. Perhaps it was the slightly jaded exterior she seemed to boast during their first meeting, or the quick quips, but he felt this was the case. He looked up and over at her when she said his name. He liked how it sounded coming from her. Maybe that was an odd thing to think or feel about someone you'd just met, but he did. He hadn't heard his name spoken to him in what felt like some time, and his attention held, attentive, on her eyes. Her words again were rather warm, no less than complementary, and the very act made a small blush find his cheeks, though he remained calm, collected even, looking down at the counter, "Is that what I am to you then? A kindred spirit?" He smiled, looking back up at her, "... The full moon does work in mysterious ways, doesn't it?" The male left it at that, half-joking, remaining a bit ambiguous with his tone. It wasn't as if he were trying to play hard to get, but his take was more of a natural defense. The last girl he showed interest in, he was too open — came on too strong, and it was abused. He didn't want that to happen again. But was he interested in Ivelisse? Certainly. He listened to the tapping of her palms against the counter, and then the rather confident response that parted her, almost as if she'd been expecting it. His head tilted to the side, and he swallowed thickly, hoping he could match her forwardness, pawn to pawn, "Take out then? And a movie at my place." It was becoming late after all, nearing eight, the town winding down for the evening. The worst she could say after all was no.

ivelisse  was  a  younger  sister,  and  so  she  had  dealt  with  her  fair  share  of  joking  remarks.  it  meant  that  they  were  quick  in  their  responses,  razor - sharp  in  their  wit  ;  she  hadn’t  had  much  of  a  choice.  “and  how  do  you  know  i  wont  be  coming  after  you  when  the  moon  is  full ? ”  she  asked,  baring  her  teeth  and  raising  both  hands  in  fake  claws  —  her  nails  were  painted  black  and  chipping.  despite  the  sudden  return  to  insincerity,  her  eyes  remained  dark  and  settled.  there  was  something  surrounding  adrian,  almost  like  a  fog,  that  drew  ivelisse  in  ;  she  had  only  visited  the  store  for  one  thing,  after  all,  and  there  they  still  were,  listening  to  artists  they  had  never  heard  of,  reluctant  to  turn  around  and  leave.  “adrian,”  it  was  like  she  had  battered  the  offer  back,  an  invitation  for  him  to  reach  out  and  take  what  he  wanted.  “you’re  cooler  than  the  other  people  that  are  usually  stationed  back  here.  they  usually  just  leave  me  to  get  on  with  whatever  i’m  looking  for.  music  fans  are  always  looking  for  someone  like  minded,  right ?  a  kindred  spirit.”  their  hands  remained  clasped  for  a  moment  longer  before  separating.  ivelisse  took  a  moment  to  ponder,  to  stare  at  the  ceiling  and  wince  as  though  they  were  reviewing  a  packed  schedule.  in  actual  fact,  the  only  things  set  in  stone  were  their  broadcasts  —  otherwise,  most  of  their  day  was  spent  listening  to  music  or  smoking  outside  of  their  trailer  on  the  mountainside.  “i  don’t  think  i  do  have  any  plans,”  she  eventually  replied,  drumming  her  palms  against  the  counter,  “is  that  you  asking  me  to  spend  time  with  you,  adrian ?  if  so  —  i  like  dinners  and  movies.  i’m  not  really  a  long - walks - on - the - beach  kind  of  person,  and  definitely  don’t  buy  me  flowers.  a  pack  of  marlboro  reds  or  an  LP  goes  a  lot  further.” 

[adrianmasri]

So, there he was. Supernova. The boredom had finally set in, or was it just burning intrigue in disguise? He figured he might see her, he figured he might not, but either way, the night was young and he was out to see what he could get from it. After walking to the club from his flat and waiting in line, he made his way in. It was busier than he expected it; the place must've drawn in the youth from surrounding smaller towns and boroughs, comprising a large part of the Windsor nightlife. A vein of neon lines, loud music, and busy excitement. The club wasn't that large, but perhaps it was just the mass of moving bodies that made it seem so tightly packed. Adrian was more of a wallflower than a spotlight monger, but that didn't mean he didn't go out. He enjoyed getting lost in a large crowd from time to time, wandering from light to light, like a moth to the flame. A migratory creature — an easy thing to be in New York, where he lived previously, and bars filtered the streets like end of a cigarette butt: there was no escape from the noise.

Noise. He'd found it certainly, the room he was in, booming from the street, intoxicating, and now he was in it. His advantage came with his height, as he could spot one of the bars to the right of the floor. He made his way over, moving through crowds one at a time. Something pulled at his black leather jacket — a hand that hadn't meant to, and so he pressed on, unable to help but move to the music that seemed to pull the room in. He loved it. Club music wasn't something he listened to on the regular, but to have this many people in sync with a beat was close to magic. He approached the lights of the bar and looked around for a spot, only to see that a pair of familiar eyes were on him. So he was fated to see her. His dark eyes connected with her own, and he faintly squinted, a small smirk finding his expression to pair. She was looking at him like she'd spotted him before he had her, and it made him wonder if she had perhaps been looking for him. No. Not a chance. He was just someone she'd seen before. He made his way next to her rather than anywhere else. Would he call her a friend? Perhaps in this context, when everyone else around them was anything but. At least he knew her name.

His eyes traced her frame, all glitter, mid-drift, and chest, down to her long, exposed legs, his gaze traveled. She looked fantastic. Why wouldn't she, though? It seemed a near-impossible task for someone with her gene pool to look anything but. Her tease found him through the music, and his smirk certainly found her. "You don't even know my name-" He told her with a smile, playful, as he squeezed into a spot beside her at the bar, "What makes you think you know the first thing about what I am and what I'm not?" His chest faced her, his elbow propped up on the counter, a smile on his lips, awaiting her sure-to-be quip.

closed starter: adrian masri!! (@adrianmasri) || location: supernova!! - on the clock (sort of), off the leash ( most definitely)

the night had cracked wide open at supernova. the bass was thumping — relentless and low, the kind you felt first in your chest and then in your bones. lights strobed overhead in bursts of violet and electric blue, casting long shadows and slick glows across every glitter-dusted surface. the crowd pulsed like a single body, all hips and hands and heat. bodies swayed against bodies, drinks clinked, and the dj had just dropped something that made the entire dancefloor erupt like someone had lit a fuse. and in the middle of it — not behind the bar this time, but floating somewhere between hostess, chaos conductor, and minor celebrity — was bex. she wasn’t technically working, but she was definitely on. if you knew her from shooters, you might’ve expected leather and steel, but tonight was a different vibe — black mesh layered over a strappy top that shimmered slightly when she moved, low-rise pants hugging her hips like they were sewn onto her body, and boots that added just enough height to keep her eyes level with most of the crowd. her curls were wild and deliberate, a halo of defiance and glitter. she wasn’t trying to blend in. bex never did. she had a drink in one hand — some neon-pink monstrosity in a small fishbowl that could have been fruit punch or jet fuel — and the other trailed lazily along the edge of a bucket special perched on one of the vip tables, half-filled with melting ice and empty bottles. she’d already done her rounds — checked in with the bouncers, flirted with the bartender for extra limes, gave the dj a mock salute and promised him another round if he kept the crowd moving. and now? now she was leaning back against the edge of the bar, letting the music roll over her, watching the entrance like she wasn’t waiting for anything — even if she clearly was. her eyes skimmed the crowd with practiced disinterest until something — someone — caught in her periphery. a familiar shape. familiar swagger. tall, easy confidence wrapped in broad shoulders and just enough mischief to make her smirk before she even turned to look. well, look who finally took the hint. she didn’t call out to him. not yet. instead, she plucked a cherry from her drink and popped it into her mouth, slow and unbothered, like she hadn’t clocked him from the moment he stepped in. then she leaned forward — elbows on the bar, chin tipped just enough for the club lights to catch on the glitter dusted along her collarbones. “took you long enough,” she said once he got close enough to hear her over the bass, her voice low and edged with a teasing rasp. “thought you might be allergic to fun.” she didn’t reach for him, didn’t press — just let the words hang there, playful, challenging, a spark dropped into kindling.

[adrianmasri]

Tamino. Fascination

[adrianmasri]

At the mention of fashion design, Adrian smiled. He went to school for Music Theory—well, briefly went to school for Music Theory— and knew the type. In the realm of college majors, Fashion Design was only a skip, hop, and a throw away from Music. Not apples to oranges, but rather apples to other kinds of apples. Liberal arts were all the same. They all were sneered at by the others, and maybe they deserved it in a way. Were most of them going to end up as baristas and waitresses, trying their very best to strike gold and sell their art? Absolutely. But Adrian wouldn't have it any other way. It was what he was good at: music, and if you enjoyed what you did, then you didn't work a day in your life. Right? He had since enjoyed his time working at the record shop, helping people just like here. It made sense, he supposed, that the stranger before him took to fashion. She was dressed nicely in a unique fit, but nicely, as if some thought had been put into it.

As she continued to speak, he realized he could envision the 'perfectionist' attitude you probably needed to make clothes, or design them. She seemed collected and confident, and kind, because as she suggested that she bring him a coffee as a 'thank you', he immediately shook his head, "No, I couldn't accept." He told her, though his smile remained, "I'm just doing my job. And believe me, I get paid. This definitely isn't volunteer," He lightly capered, trying everything he could to sway her. A small, but playful smile tugged at his lips as he leaned against the table and crossed his arms over his chest, "Listen... If you buy the record, then come back to show me what you made with it, we'll be even steven." He stood up straight, making his way behind the counter, "From one artist to another — coffee is good, but the creative process? Priceless."

Signe's   smile   grew   the   moment   she   laid   eyes   on   the   pink   pastel-swirled   sleeve.   "French   neo-psychedelic   pop?"   she   echoed,   amused   as   she   accepted   the   vinyl.   Her   eyes   scanned   over   the   sketched   art   design,   taking   in   the   details   of   the   subjects   outfits,   the   line   work,   and   even   the   peacock   that   found   itself   on   the   cover   for   some   reason.   As   always,   art   seemed   to   inspire   her   faster   than   anything   else.   Her   mind   was   already   racing   as   she   turned   the   record   over,   her   fingertips   tracing   over   the   typography   of   the   tracks.   Finally,   Signe   looked   back   up   at   him   with   a   grateful   little   smile   and   nod. "It's   for   a   moodboard,"   she   explained,   tucking   a   curl   behind   her   ear.   "I'm   a   fashion   designer   --   well,   an   aspiring   one   anyway,   who's   currently   stealing   every   ounce   of   inspiration   I   can   get   my   hands   on."   A   soft   laugh   slipped   out   as   she   wiggled   the   vinyl   in   her   hands   for   emphasis.   "No   crochet   though,   although   never   say   never."   She   returned   her   gaze   to   the   record   in   her   hands   and   nodded,   already   pleased.   "This   will   work   though.   I'm   already   picturing   a   whole   collection   in   my   head,"   Signe   bit   her   lips,   her   eyes   sparkling   with   excitement.   "So,   do   you   have   a   favorite   coffee   order?   Because   if   this   turns   out   to   be   my   new   creative   ritual,   I'll   absolutely   be   back.   Might   as   well   treat   the   man   who   knows   his   stuff."

[adrianmasri]

Adrian laughed and shook his head, "Nah, I'm not allergic to anything," He told him, "I just happen to hold the vastly superior opinion on desserts. Y'know, I'm the brownie prophet, just spreading my word." He capered, his tone less than honed, blunt, but unserious. He was already really quite chummy with the stranger, and he decided that he liked him, whoever he was. Adrian really didn't have a type of company when it came to friends; he found that he got along with all sorts of personalities, but it was nice when something just seemed to click. After all, being new in town, it was quite a bit lonely not having anyone to really talk to, not in person, at least. Perhaps this could be the end of that. Adrian looked down at his feet briefly. The other had a point. He'd been waiting awhile, and he wasn't a beach person anyhow, and the whole idea of going was merely on a whim. Adrian looked up and over at the other, "You have a point, man." He sighed, "At least 'Sprinklestown' won't leave me on the hook. Or leave me wind-burnt." He agreed, "I'm Adrian, it's nice to meet you." The male extended a hand then, and smiling, he began to walk down the street, leading the way, "So I take it you just washed up in town too?" He ran a hand quickly through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead. "What brings you here?"

leon stands still, trying not to laugh, the stupid grin on his face is enough to hold for barely a few seconds. he even holds his breath, not sure why. when the other man tells him his eyes aren't that bad, the blond sighs and laughs. maybe he doesn't look that high, but he still is. good thing he's been a functioning stoner for years, even though that's probably something he shouldn't brag about. "are you insane? nuts are... like... what the fuck. the best," leon laughs. "oh, are you allergic?" at the mention of the bus, he looks one way and then the other. never ever has he had luck with public transit. except back in chile. that country really knows how to make buses and subways work. "eh, the beach is overrated anyway," leon shrugs his shoulders. "i mean. i love it, but if you have to wait for more than ten minutes for a ride, i don't think it's very much worth it. do you even have a towel?" he wonders. "listen, you could keep waiting or we could go to sprinklestown and just hang out. it would probably be more fun than standing around?" his sentence ends in a question and the blond realizes he's talking too fast again. he takes a mental note to take a breath. "i'm leon, by the way."

[adrianmasri]

Adrian squinted, "Man, I don't know, hold still..." He told him, looking into the other's eyes, an almost comedic moment between the two men, and he recognized that. A grin found his features, amused by the situation, "Eh, they're not too bad." He told him honestly, and having lived in numerous cities where the substance was regarded as casually as booze, he was less than phased. It wasn't something he usually partook in, but he'd been around it plenty enough to know when someone had. The honesty made Adrian laugh, and he figured if there was anyone who had a care in Windsor, it certainly wasn't whoever was next to him. He favored the energy — it reminded him of the friends he had back home. Adrian smiled, almost snorting at the way the other repeated his word. 'Sprinkles'. The guy was zooted. The brunette shook his head, rubbing his eyes, "Oh come on, there are worse things than sprinkles. Like nuts. Nuts in desserts are the worst." He lightly protested, although he wasn't much one for sprinkles either. Such pointless, tasteless things. Adrian shrugged, "You're more adventurous than I. I'm just dumb, evidently," He told him, "I thought the bus would be a fun way to get to the beach. But here I am, no further than I was fifteen minutes ago."

"ah, man," leon chuckles and drops his head, shaking it slightly. "are my eyes that red?" he grins. probably, he just went through a whole gram of the stuff and the munchies are definitely what he's feeling right now. he can't help he struggles to be alone, and being new to the town, loneliness can hit like a truck in only a few hours. so yes, he turns to weed. it's not as bad that he needs to drink a six-pack of beers too. that's so very two years ago. "well, no point in denying it," the blond laughs and shrugs his shoulders. "sprinkles," he echoes the other man's words. "sounds like what i'm looking for, even though i hate them. but they usually come with pastries and i like those," he chuckles. "what about you? leon asks the other. he doesn't mean to pry, but the stranger seems bored out of his mind. the blond notices the bus stop sign next to them and nods his head, "i thought bus rides in towns like these were a myth. i would hitchhike," he jokes. "where are you headed, anyway?"

[adrianmasri]

Adrian was waiting for the bus. And waiting. And continually waiting, so it seemed. The American public transport had never been keen anywhere he'd lived. He thought for a moment about getting a bike, but then thought about how ridiculous he'd look on a bike, not to mention where he would store it? His studio apartment, nestled a few blocks from where he stood, was full of his instruments and a bed that altogether took up half the vicinity already. Never mind it all. He was simply destined to wait, in doom, for the bus then. He wondered if the trip to the beach was worth it. He wasn't much of a beach guy, but something about taking a long walk on the pebbly shore called to him on his day off. He was approached then by someone he'd never seen before, and his head turned to look at the guy, his shoulders following after a few moments. Adrian initially let out a light laugh. The stranger smelled vaguely of weed — of New York City and downtown Denver, and it brought back a strange wave of nostalgia for Adrian, "Ah, I don't know," He began, putting his hands in his pockets, "I think there's a place a few blocks from here called Sprinkle's, or something like that." Adrian gestured down the street with his shoulder toward the direction he'd come from. He passed a cake shop on his daily commute, though the name of the shop had slipped from him. He smiled and looked at the other, now curious, "... So, what, man? You got the munchies or something?"

he's been here for only two weeks but leon hasn't really been out that much. he found a studio space next to the radio station and has been working there pretty much all day every day, and if he's not, he's at home sleeping and probably getting stoned. but today the sun's shining bright and he's really in the mood for something other than his typical americano coffee that he pours himself in the morning. as he walks out into the downtown streets, he wonders where the fuck he should go. the blond sees someone standing by, and he's never been shy or introverted, so he approaches them with a smile. "hey," he says. "sorry to interrupt, but you're from around here, aren't you? i'm looking for a place to get a donut or something. or maybe one of those creamy cheesecakes? i guess you can tell i got a sweet tooth, and i'm craving sugar like crazy. anyway, do you know a place nearby?"

@windsorbaystarters

[adrianmasri]

'You're not nobody' — the sentiment that cascaded from the stranger surprised him, only because he wasn't expecting it. Not after the harmless, but cutting-edge banter she'd shamlessly dished his way, a jab here, a jab there, but now it was a trickle of tweeness. The feeling made it a little harder to swallow, even though he'd, for the most part, been joking about being 'nobody'. Although what if she had said it on a day when he meant what he said? And there were days when he could mean it in a literal sense when he said it, sure — everyone had those days. But what does a person do when someone tells them something so defiant to their inner monologue that you just had to believe it? He wasn't sure, and maybe it was dumb, but he felt like wrapping up what she said as gently as he could and saving it in his pocket for later. Because he wasn't sure he'd ever been told something that thoughtful. It was then, when he realized she was being earnest, he tried his best to revert, "Oh yeah? How do you know I have a heartbeat?" He capered, "It is a full moon tonight, and you never know. I might just be an apparition stuck in time."

Primal Scream. Familiar sounding. As much as he'd like to have every song he'd ever heard before recorded in his head like an iPod, he was only a mere mortal. With a soft nod, he made note to listen to it later. He turned around from the phone plug to see that she was leaning against the counter, head in her hands, eyes closed, simply enjoying the sound. He understood immediately, and he knew that their appreciation for music was matched if not paralleled. He found himself watching her for a few moments, snapping out of it as soon as she extended a hand. He stood up straighter and took it, "Adrian." The male smiled a small smile, "Ivelisse." He repeated, as if to taste the name on his tongue — one he'd never heard before; now one he supposed he was sworn to never forget, "It's nice to meet you." He shook her hand, lithe, warm against his palm. He decided then that she was pretty damn cool, so he decided to make an effort to see what was there, "So, you have any plans for the rest of the night?"

ivelisse  had  once  been  the  same,  somebody  that  was  ridiculed  and  picked  on  for  turning  up  to  school  in  the  same  clothes  she  had  worn  the  day  before,  or  without  any  money  for  lunch.  instead  of  standing  by  and  letting  it  happen,  though,  they  had  packed  a  bag  and  left,  and  years  later  returned  to  windsor  bay  as  an  entirely  changed  being.  someone  with  hardened  edges,  someone  with  higher  walls.  it  was  why  it  was  so  easy  to  be  mean,  to  throw  words  like  darts  —  shoot  to  kill.  gradually,  though,  they  were  softening,  and  their  head  tilted  as  the  worker  spoke  once  more.  “you’re  not  nobody,”  ivelisee’s  brow  furrowed,  “you’re  flesh  and  blood  and  bone  and  you  have  a  heartbeat,  i’m  assuming.  hold  onto  that.  you  never  know  when  it’ll  be  taken  away.”  she  had  lost  so  much.  she  didn’t  want  to  lose  him,  too.  there  was  a  part  of  ivelisse  that  felt  as  though  they  already  knew  each  other  even  if  they  had  only  just  met. she  heard  his  response,  and  raised  him  her  own.  “movin’  on  up.  primal  scream.”  positive  messages  were  often  lost  on  them.  ivelisse  had  stared  into  hell  and  had  those  dark,  glowing  eyes  stare  right  back  at  her,  and  yet  how  could  they  not  cling  to  messages  of  besting�� the  darkness ?  of  shining  on  in  spite  of  it  all ?  it  had  been  a  long  time  since  anyone  had  understood  her  as  much  as  this  stranger.  the  last  person  that  ever  dared  was  dead  somewhere,  or  in  prison,  or  somewhere  far,  far  away  from  ivelisse  — hopefully  forever.  did  she  want  such  a  fate  for  the  sweet  boy,  the  one  that  knew  bands  before  they  were  cool  and  seemingly  had  endless  knowledge  of  strange,  niche  bands  they  had  never  heard  of ?  dark  eyes  continued  to  track  him.  after  a  moment,  she  followed  and  leaned  her  elbows  against  the  desk,  head  in  her  palms,  watching  the  clumsy  plug - in  of  his  phone.  when  the  music  started  playing,  their  eyes  flickered  closed  —  the  gentle  drums,  the  swimming  melody.  although  she  hadn’t  heard  it  before,  she  swayed.   ♪   and  i'm  gonna  see  you  again  …  ♪ she  opened  her  eyes,  offered  a  pink  and  glossy  smile.  “i  like  it,”  they  answered.  an  outstretched  hand,  an  offering.  “i’m  ivelisse.  eva-leese.”  it  came  naturally.  nobody  ever  seemed  to  get  it  right  the  first  time.

[adrianmasri]