~ OoC Link ~ Coming soon. "WHAT?! FIVE THOUSAND BUCKS FOR A GUITAR?!" "Well, sir, it is a vintage Les Paul's, used by Slash himself. It even has the signatures from all the members of "Guns'n'Roses" right on the back. See?" "But still, eight hundred? Its an old guitar, its already been used, and its got some "road miles on it", if you know what I mean. Couldn't you settle for eighty dollars, or maybe one hundred?" "I'm sorry sir, but I can't lower the price. I'm not making any money off of it, Slash is.. Look, if you buy it, I'll throw in a free amplifier and you can pick out a guitar pick of your own. I'll also give you 20% off your next purchase." "... Fuck. I really shouldn't, but at the same time, I really like that guitar... Fuck." Ca-CHA CHING! "Would you like a carrying case to go with it, sir?" "Sure, why not." "Then that'll bring the total price up to $5050." God dammit.. "Are you paying with cash or credit, sir?" "(sigh) Credit.." ~~~~ Exiting the hobby shop, Dylan took in a breath of fresh air as he went over the consequences that would arise thanks to his reckless purchase. We can forget about Chinese Food Wednesday, and the rent is gonna be late again.. Damn it Dylan, why do you always do this stupid shit close to Rent Day? the young man thought as he cursed the latest in a long line of stupid transactions he had made. Adjusting the heavy instrument in his hands, Dylan realized he should have just gotten a delivery boy to ship the stuff to his apartment. The combined weight of both the Amplifier and the guitar itself was enough to make his lanky arms tired in minutes. Dylan was never the "strong man", but even in the past he had been able to carry heavy stuff before. This feeling of exhaustion was on par with the feeling you'd get trying to hold an anvil over a cliff while balanced on a tiny China dinner plate. All while wearing nothing but your underpants and a series of weights tied to your chest. It seemed outlandish, but that's how Dylan felt: outlandish. C'mon Dyl, you can do this mate.. And, HEAVE! the British man thought as he lifted the heavy objects into the air respectively. The strain on his arms was starting to make them sore and he knew he had to move quickly before he dropped the $5050 worth of merchandise. This stuff cost him a fortune, so he would be pissed if he let it break before he got the chance to use it once. Like the epic, heroic beast of a man he was, Dylan hobbled like a mentally challenged penguin all the way to his bicycle. Gently placing the expensive guitar and amplifier on the ground, Dylan unlocked the chain attaching his bike to a lamppost and shoved it into his pocket. Then, the realization of a more serious issue dawned upon him: how the hell was he going to get home with all this crap, on a bicycle, one of Man's "easiest-to-flip-over-and-fall-off-of" modes of transportation. Shit. I can't seem to win today, can I? Grabbing his iPhone, Dylan quickly searched up the number for his best friend and roommate, Thomas, and clicked it. Holding the phone to his ear, Dylan waited for Tom to pick up. "Hey dude." "Tom, hey." "You've reached Thomas.. I'm not in the casita right now so leave your low down at the ding dong, asta." "Hey Tom, its Dylan. Listen, I'm kind of in a pickle right now. Could you come and pick me up? I'm at the corner of-" You have reached the voicemail system. Dylan sighed before he continued speaking. "Ok, ok...come on." To leave a message, just wait for the tone. "I know how to leave a god damn message." When you are finished recording, just hang up, or push pound for more options. "Really hang up? No shit... I was just going to keep on talking till he decided to check his voicemail." For delivery options, press 5. Dylan grunted in frustration before he continued once more. "Just give me the damn beep!" To leave a call back number, press 6. To page this person, press 7. "COME ON!" To repeat this message, press 8. "I will fucking stab you computer phone lady!" To mark this message as urgent, press 11. "There is no 11 you fucking whore!" Hanging up angrily before the automated voice could continue, Dylan scrolled through the list of names on his phone once again. Eventually he found Jean, Thomas' girlfriend. Clicking her name, Dylan took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Thomas never answered his phone and right now, Dylan needed him to. "Hey, Jean? You there?" BOOP You have reached the voicemail system. "OH COME ON!" To leave a message, just wait for the tone. Before the entire one-sided argument could continue, Dylan shut off his phone, closed his eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Once he finally found himself relaxing, Dylan opened his eyes and looked at the newly purchased equipment. "Well.. Looks like I'm out of options. May as well call a cab.. Dylan thought before he grabbed the handle of his bike and clicked the button to make it fold up. Manually folding bikes, god how Dylan loved technology. When he had everything set and ready for the drive home in a taxi, Dylan walked (and dragged his stuff) to the curb to wave down a cabbie. Despite the attitude of one certain lanky individual with brown hair, life in Silver Falls seemed totally normal. The quaint Canadian city was just as calm and relaxed as it usually was. People going about their daily lives, exploring and learning more about themselves and the world, and keeping up with the latest trends an styles of the generation. Nothing could disturb the peace here short of a natural disaster. They say that Gods watch over the city, controlling everything that the inhabitants do and defining their life decisions and choices.. But then again, this isn't the Sims, now is it? Now, lets take a look into the daily lives of a select group of individuals and observe how they act. This is going to be fun, isn't it?