The Wanderer

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Tart, Jul 24, 2015.

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  1. The Wanderer
    The sunlight split through the cracks of the blinds in uneven strips, skittering against the bed in which a young man was sleeping in soundly. He was exhausted from the late night show his band and him decided to do the night before, and a big party was afterwards so things just... blurred together. He'd gotten home around 4 in the morning and collapsed in his bed, in which is where he laid now. Really, home was just a rundown little apartment he shared with one of his bandmates, but things weren't necessarily working out between the two of them living together. So Logan suspected he'd be kicked out in a matter of days. It wasn't that big of a deal to him, due to how he was used to such circumstances, and was sure he'd find some other place to stay at till he could afford something of his own.

    Logan opened one eye to take a peek around the messy room, and let out a long sigh as he could feel a sharp headache coming in. He winced as a ray of sunlight hit him directly in his line of vision, and exasperatedly sat up and flung the covers off his body. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he contemplated actually getting up and starting the day. He could easily just call in sick and call it a day, and if anyone were to tell him otherwise just raise hell. But, of course, he remembered an important practice/recording session he had scheduled at a studio later on today. Logan ran a hand over his face and stood up, the bed squeaking in protest from the loss of his body weight, and he shuffled out of the room with a towel in hand. After a quick shower and other regular hygiene rituals, he pulled on something a bit more formal then his usual attire for the occasion. He sent a quick text to the rest of his bandmates informing them of the schedule once more before grabbing his guitar case and stepping out the door.

    It was a beautiful sunny day with a light breeze, the sky matching Logan's baby blue eyes. He walked with a bit of a pep in his step, considering his day was starting out nice besides the nasty headache and killer hangover. But, of course, he was used to these things as well. He plugged some earphones into his ears and turned the volume up, getting lost into the world of music he often wandered off to when facing walls of stress. Music to Logan was like the other drugs he found himself going back to; It made him feel better, in control, and free. It was something he relied on and took pride in making it, and it was one of the few things that genuinely made him happy. Taking a glance at his phone, he read the time as 1:00 PM, and had about 30 minutes to get to the studio before they were scheduled to start at 1:35. And so, Logan's day started.


    ~ @abalint ~
     
    #1 Tart, Jul 24, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 14, 2015
  2. Robert awoke at the normal 6:00am. He rolled out of bed and looked out of his bedroom window. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, making Robert smile widely. Dressed in his pyjamas, Robert made his bed. Once his covers were neatly flattened and the duna was folded over properly, Robert went to the bathroom. 6:08am. He flossed, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and washed his face. 6:20am. Next, Robert got dressed. Picking out a simple grey-blue button front shirt and a pair of casual dress trousers, Robert changed and neatly folded his pyjamas. 6:26am. Lastly was breakfast. Robert went into the apartment kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal with strawberries. As the cereal flakes soaked in the milk, Robert turned on his stereo and listened to the music. Taking a seat on the sofa, Robert relaxed as he mentally prepared himself for the day. There a lot going on as usual; a typical Friday morning. The playlist consisted of classical, country, and soft rock. While this wasn't that unusual, there was one thing that set this playlist apart from others; it was completely instrumental. Robert hated listening to music in the morning that could disrupt his own thoughts with words. Instead, he compiled a playlist of only instrumental versions of songs. Once he was finished with his breakfast, he rinsed the dish and placed it in the dishwasher. 6:37am. He was on schedule, so he grabbed his coat, scarf, and satchel before returning to his bedroom. The last few things were his personal calendar, which was now safely stored away in one of the many compartments in the satchel, and his French Horn. The instrument itself wasn't that heavy compared to what it could be, but the case added quite a bit of weight. With the instrument in his left hand, Robert was off to Keynote Studios, Samantha's recording studio. 6:45am.

    As Robert walked through the busy streets of the city, he weaved in and out of the morning work traffic. Most were making their way to subways or to taxis, while Robert kept to the sidewalks. He continued to move at a steady pace until he saw the studio come into view. With an exaggerated sigh, Robert slid the key into the door and entered the building. 7:02am. After placing his stuff in a small side office, Robert began to open the studio for the day. It took him all of 30 minutes until the building was fully lit and up-and-running. 7:32am. While he was opening up, Samantha walked in along with the few others who worked in the relatively small recording studio. The studio 'opened' at 8:00am, but the first group scheduled was never any earlier than 8:30am. This gave everyone time to settle in. Robert placed the large calendar with every appointment for the next week on an open wall. Robert finished his morning responsibilities right on time, as usual, and took a seat at the front desk next to the receptionist. He looked over another smaller schedule and waited for the first group to arrive.

    The day went by rather normally. Robert sat in some recording sessions with specific groups that required a French Horn in the background, but that was normal. It was 1:15 and the group that was in Studio 3 was doing a final run before they had to pack up for the next group. Robert sat at the desk as he waited for the next appointment. This wasn't anything new. As the minutes went by, Robert nibbled on a salad with dried fruit. This was one of his favorite snacks. As Robert ate his small meal, he heard Samantha arguing with someone on the phone. Robert guessed it was either a client wanting to reschedule or her boyfriend. Robert's mind drifted to Roman, Samantha's boyfriend. He wasn't exactly a gentleman and Robert didn't particularly like the guy. But he was good to Samantha, except for the normal arguments over who left the toilet seat up, etc. Despite knowing that it was probably just a small argument, Robert hated when Samantha had to raise her voice. It was nothing short of terrifying. Although she had a bit of a temper, as soon as she walked out of her office, she was the sweetest thing on the planet...too bad she was still in her office. 1:27pm.
     
    • Love Love x 1


  3. Logan Price
    Logan had stopped by a coffee joint on his way to the studio and ordered himself a straight black blend before heading off again. The studio was actually not that far away from his apartment building, so that helped his situation and guaranteed he'd get there on time. He was typically always late, so this would be a game changer and probably give the people who work at the studio a good impression. Not that he cared. All that he wanted to do was practice, record, and get the hell out of there so he could go spend his time elsewhere. Logan was a pretty impatient guy, and liked things to finish up quickly so he could run off and busy himself with something else. And if someone dared to waste his time, it didn't really end up well for either of them. Taking a couple of sips from the cup, he rounded a corner and saw the studio in the distance and the band's van parked by the sidewalk. They were currently unpacking their instruments and what not, taking things inside to help set up. They waved towards him and beckoned him over. Brookie, the bassist, jogged up towards him. "Yo! Where the hell have ye' been? We're about to get started." Logan rolled his eyes and swatted the back of his head with his palm. "Geez, shut it will you? I've got a killer hangover, and your blabbing isn't helping." Brookie frowned and rubbed the back of his head where Logan hit. "You always have a damn hangover. Wouldn't be surprised if your coffee was spiked." He shot back, walking into the studio with the others. Logan scowled and walked in behind him.

    It was smaller then he thought, but it still looked nice and inviting. He walked down a couple hallways or so until he reached the designated room they'd be playing in. Logan pulled open the door and glanced at the man who inhabited it. He observed him casually and cocked an eyebrow. "Uh, hey, I'm Logan. Scheduled to have a recording done at 1:35?" he extended his hand to greet the other man, then placed it back in his pocket. He was still holding his coffee cup, it was about halfway filled, so he took another sip before setting it down somewhere. "Let's just get this done. Brookie, Ron, Willie! Hurry up, we don't have all day." He called to his bandmates, before going back into the hall to help Ron get his drums into the room. After a bit of shuffling around and ordering from Logan, the instruments were set and tuned. "Alright, we're all ready to go. Umm.. now's the time to give us the rundown of the rules or whatever. You'd be surprised with how many studios have a long ass list of rules and 'expectations'." He rolled his eyes thinking back to his previous experiences, and watched the other male thoughtfully. He looked to be in his early twenties, with curly brownish hair and nice eyes. He was on the semi-formal side with his attire, so Logan definitely felt glad he'd picked something along those lines as well. Logan may not care what people think about him, but sometimes making a good impression really helped him and his band out.
    ~ @abalint ~
     
    #3 Tart, Jul 24, 2015
    Last edited: Jul 24, 2015
  4. Robert eyed the young man carefully. There wasn't any way he could be older than himself and there was the scent of booze that lingered around the man. This wasn't something that Robert liked. Ignoring his annoyance with the man, Robert straightened himself as he stated, "The sound booth is through those doors. Your guy can adjust the levels and work out of there. If he needs any help with the equipment, feel free to ask. We expect our clients to act accordingly; no trash left behind, no cigarets inside the studio, no alcohol," Robert paused here for a moment as if to see what Logan would do. But before long he continued, "No fighting, whether it be within your group or with another client. If you have a disagreement, please take it elsewhere. Lastly, please finish when your time slot is up. We have many artists who utilise our facilities and need to keep our schedule. That's all. If you need help with anything, feel free to ask. I'll be at the front desk. If there is someone else with a name tag, they can also help you." That was all that Robert needed to say. Usually, the clients already knew the studio's policies, but these guys were new. Robert secretly hoped that they wouldn't come too often due to the stench that clung to each individual. While the others weren't nearly as bad as the first, the scent of alcohol lingered. Robert feared that the booth would in turn smell afterwards. But this wasn't something for Robert to concern himself with at the moment. For now, Robert went back to the front desk and continued with his paperwork.

    After a good half hour, the stack of papers were dealt with. Most were bills that needed to be mailed off. The rest were business papers. Robert stood and stretched as he glanced at the clock. 2:04pm. All of the booths were filled and the sessions wouldn't be over for another half hour at least. Robert decided to take a walk around the studio and listen to the various artists. The first was a jazz singer along with various hired musicians. Her sound wasn't anything unique, but her words stirred a feeling deep inside of him. Despite this unique quality of the songs, Robert wasn't impressed. It wasn't like he didn't appreciate good lyrics, rather he focused on the musicality of the song instead. The next was a small ensemble recording their music. This was unique because it was 6 guitars. They all huddled around two microphones as they played perfectly in time with each other. Robert appreciated this type of music. It took many years of playing together to be so in sync. He lingered there for a few minutes before moving on to the next. This one was the young alcohol group. Robert was about to walk past the booth entirely, but something caught his ear. The voice...there was something about the voice. Definitely punk-rock, but there was a uniqueness about it. Unlike the mainstream voices, this one lingered; much like how Janis Joplin's does. Robert found himself standing there listening to them. It was pleasing to the ear. As Robert listened to the music, he made mental notes where things could be improved...at least in his mind. They were things like using an inverted authentic cadence instead of a half cadence, syncopating the guitar and drum rifts instead of having them in unison, or having a turnaround instead of resolving to the tonic or root.

    Finding that he was biting his lower lip in deep though, Robert moved away from the booth. Although he didn't want to think of it, the alcohol infused group was most interesting. Part of him wondered why the lead vocals were confined to such an immature sounding group. While this was only his opinion, Robert felt that the vocals deserved something more substantial supporting them. As he sat at his desk, Robert saw that there was still another good 20 minutes before the next round of groups came. Leaving a note on the desk top, Robert took his French Horn and satchel and headed to the back room, but not before stopping at the employee bathroom to brush his teeth throughly. The note was for whoever sat at the desk next. In the back room if you need me. --Robert. The back room, as it was commonly referred to was actually an old recording booth that was rarely used due to some electrical issues. Despite it's inability to competently record, it had very good acoustics. Robert pulled up a chair from the corner and placed it slightly closer to the back wall. When he sat in it, his back was to the glass. Robert preferred this position because the French Horn is not a forward facing instrument. This set up allowed for the sound to bounce instead of being absorbed by the padded walls. The next thing he set up was his computer and a footpedal. This was something that he did on the streets usually, not the studio...but he decided to have fun today. With his laptop hooked up to the internal speakers in the booth, Robert began to play. The full, rich, round sound filled the room immediately as he began to loop different phrases.

     



  5. Logan Price
    Logan listened with a blank face, not really paying attention to the man's words as he went on and on about whatever expectations they were expecting. Sure, he wouldn't smoke or drink in the booth, but he couldn't guarantee what his bandmates would do. That was one thing with Logan; He could be a hell of a rule breaker and do nothing but cause trouble, but if he really didn't want to and just wanted things to run smoothly, he'd control himself and temper for the most part. His other pals... he didn't know what they had planned. At least Logan knew he could keep a close eye on the little idiots and hold a tight leash of control. Once the man finished up with his rules and what not, he walked out in his business-y manner, and shut the door. He could tell that this man wasn't quite fond of him and his bandmates, but this was the least of his worries at the moment. So much for a good impression, however. Logan sniffed his jacket out of curiosity and chuckled, nodding slightly. Alcohol unsurprisingly clung to the fabric like glue from the night before's events, and gave the hint to why the other male seemed so snooty towards the band. Logan just rolled his eyes and ordered the other's to get into starting position so they could start.

    Things were running smoothly about half an hour later, the band in the middle of one of their lighter songs written by Logan. Usually their songs were heavy and angry, hence the name of the band, and involved tiny bits of shouting and rough singing. Logan typically never went full on with his vocals in these songs due to the truly softer tone he genuinely has, and would instead sing downheartedly and lower to get the musky feel of the band. But, this didn't mean that he doesn't write side songs for himself to sing on the side and not with the complete band, so this is what made him stick with the current band he was with. Besides, they were getting sort of popular nowadays, so that was another reason why Logan decided to stay. As he sang, he closed his eyes to focus on his guitar playing and the second guitar's echoing by Willie, his eyebrows creased together as his fingers swiftly pressed down to form chords and other notes in precise precision. This song was relatively sad, so Logan made sure to come out with his voice a tad bit more to give it just that feel. He opened his eyes once more to hit a relatively high note, and caught sight of the man from before who had given them the rundown of the rules. Eyebrow arched in pure curiosity, he watched as the other bit his bottom lip in thought and moved on, Logan internally smirking at the way the other seemed to linger to listen in on their song. After a minute or so the song ended with the plucking of the guitar fading off as the vocals held a note, and Logan nodded to his crew before strapping the guitar to his back and clapping. "Alright guys, nicely done. Now hurry up and get these instruments packed up so we can get out of here." He ordered, pointing about as the others shuffled around. "Logan, let's get a drink after this, yeah?" Willie piped up, brushing his long black hair out of his eyes for a change. "As if that drunkard needs anymore alcohol. Have you smelled him?" Ron shook his head disapprovingly and frowned at Willie. "Shut the hell up both of you and get out of my sight. Besides, you all reek of it too." He hissed back, flicking Ron's head before walking out of the booth. He needed to speak to that man before he left and inform him they were leaving a couple minutes early. Walking towards the desk, he found a note with something scribbled on it to inform them of his absence to the back room, wherever that was. Logan figured this was the man from earlier, and walked about trying to find where this back room was. After a while of fruitless searching and irritation, Logan stopped in the middle of the hallway and gnawed on his bottom lip in thought.

    There in the corner sat an older looking booth with a light hum coming from it, the lights turned on. Logan walked towards the room with his thumbs looped through the belt holes of his jeans in a casual manner as he pulled open the door. Inside, he was greeted with the sight of the man he was looking for in the separate part of the booth with his back to the glass, playing what appeared to be the french horn. Robert, from whom he now knew from the note, was continuously clicking on a laptop he'd set up and was making loops that soon pulled together to form the full song. Logan sat back and watched with interest, his blue eyes flicking about as his hand pressed down to form different sounds, the instrument piping out rich tones. He was pretty awesome at playing, he had to admit that, and he even knew some of the songs he was playing. Logan waited until he finished before lightly tapping on the glass, informing him of his appearance in the room as he stepped into the little recording place. He cleared his throat before speaking, "Hey, just needed to inform you we're leaving a bit earlier then planned so your whole... schedule thing isn't screwed up." Logan shrugged and glanced at the french horn. "I heard you playing. You're pretty damn good, man." He admitted before giving a small grin and folding his arms against his lower chest. Logan didn't know what else to say then, so he just looked about the room a bit before exhaling lightly. "Uh.. anyway, you must be Robert?" He already knew the answer to that question, but he wanted to make small talk for the sake of being able to. Besides, he knew this man wasn't very fond of him, and that egged Logan on to take up more of his time. He also knew that this man, or Robert, had some what of an interest in his band or even himself. And that alone made Logan curious. Why would such an uptight looking individual have any interest in punk looking dirty Logan?
    ~ @abalint ~
     
  6. As he played, Robert’s mind became blank. He stopped thinking about the world, and lost himself in the music. Yes, it was mostly just pop hits and songs that he enjoyed, but they calmed his restless mind. The longer he played the more he felt that someone was watching him…But that’s impossible. There’s no one around. The thought slipped from his mind as he finished the last part of the song. The last note rang out, hanging over ever so slightly, giving the instrument that hum associated with resonance. That one sound could put Robert’s mind at ease in any situation. Just then someone addressed him. Robert looked up from what he was doing with a bit of a jump. He wasn’t expecting anyone to disturb him, let alone Mr. Price. After a moment, Robert stood to greet the man. With his instrument in hand, Robert opened the door to the room and stood face to face with Logan. His horn was held tight to his body as he replied, “Thank you Mr. Price. I hope you were satisfied and will come back soon.” Robert was glad that the kid remembered the schedule and was even proud of him to be considerate of keeping things running smoothly. The second comment was harder to reply to. Not wanting to sound pompous, Robert smiled and thanked Logan with, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I hope my absence at the desk hasn’t caused you any problems.” The smile lingered as Robert waited for Logan to make the next move, all the while his mind was searching for something else to say.

    With the conversation at a standstill, Robert glanced at his watch. 2:26pm. “I’m sorry, but I need to clean up. The next group of artists will be arriving shortly and will need my assistance,” Robert stated factually. He didn’t want to be rude to a customer, but he also didn’t enjoy being with this guy. For the moment, he hoped that this comment would facilitate the man to move on. After a minute or two, Robert turned away and began to pack up his stuff. The first thing was his instrument. He went over to the trash bin and began to empty the water keys (aka spit valves), effectively cleaning the instrument. Once that was done, Robert place the horn into the case and zipped it up tightly. Then he placed his mouthpiece into its pouch and stored that away in his case. Then he moved to the laptop. Shutting it down and placing it in his satchel, Robert moved without hesitation. Everything had its place. Robert moved like a man possessed. It took all of 7 minutes to finish. In that time, Robert gathered his stuff and walked back to the door where Logan was standing. With a small gesture, Robert motioned for the two to return to the front desk. As they walked, Robert, against better judgement, tried to make small talk. "Your band is very good. Compared to what I've heard, you aren't that bad. One thing that you have is a unique sound," Robert stated as if he were giving the results of a pregnancy test. While this wasn't a lie, Robert withheld other, more critical comments.
     



  7. Logan Price
    (( Okay, this post is super crappy, but I needed to give you something or I'd feel like a total jerk haha. Really sorry again, my day was... crazy with family issues and bleh. Expect better posts in the future!! ))
    Logan quirked his eyebrow and watched this older male pack up his belongings, not really having anything to say. It wasn't like they were total buddies or anything, but rather... awkward acquaintances with bad first impressions. He didn't exactly know why he was bothering to make small chatter with Robert or even take his time to find the guy, but it was something along the lines of Logan being a bit annoying and interested. After 7 or so minutes of standing in the doorway waiting for the other individual, he finished up and motioned towards leaving the back room. They walked in stiff silence for a bit until Robert spoke up.

    "Your band is very good. Compared to what I've heard, you aren't that bad. One thing that you have is a unique sound,"

    He couldn't stop the little smirk that played on his lips, his hands finding their way to slide into his back pockets as they continued to walk back. "Is that so, Robert? I was under the impression that you wouldn't even bat an eye towards my little punk band." He mused nonchalantly, the words slipping off his tongue in a bit of a singsong voice. He realized then that the two were nearly similar in height though Logan stood a mere inch taller, and just this was amusing to him as well. "Anyway, you should know that I'm open to more... harsh critiques. I'm not a complete baby that needs to be sheltered from critical point of views." His accent came out thick when he spoke this time, though completely involuntarily at such a time. Usually when he decided to speak more formally, his accent layered on in a subconscious attempt to make himself feel more... formal. It was just an odd thing of his. "So, what do you do with that french horn of yours? You're great at it.. do you have your own concerts and whatnot?" Logan questioned, looking up from the ground to glance at Robert.
     
  8. Robert understood that their conversation was awkward and a bit uncomfortable for both of them, but he felt that it was better than walking in silence. He listened to what Logan had to say. His response was rather interesting. As Logan continued to speak his accent grew stronger. This made Robert smile. It wasn't that he was laughing at the younger man, rather he was intrigued. They didn't have far to go, but Robert wanted to answer. Thinking for a second, Robert replied, "Music is music. It's up to the listener to decide what they want to 'bat an eye towards'. While I have my favorite genres, I do not hold one in prestige and others in contempt." His voice stayed level, but the air about it changed. While his word choice was still methodically picked and refined to demonstrate his abilities, there was something more informal about the conversation now. It was as if Robert had forgotten that their relationship was strictly, employee and customer. "As for critiques, I am not in the best position to express them. Due to my lack of knowledge about the genre, I cannot confidently relay my opinions. There might be some 'norms' within the genre that define it, which I am not aware of making my critiques ill-informed." Robert continued to walk until they reached the front desk. Once there, Robert placed his belongings behind the counter. He smiled at the compliment before replying, "Thank you for your compliment. As for concerts, I perform with the local orchestra as well as subbing for the local theatre. Mostly, I work here or on the streets as a street musician."

    Despite the lighthearted, or at least what Robert considered lighthearted, conversation, there was no denying that their relationship had changed. Robert straightened himself and smoothed out his shirt, "Thank you Mr. Price for using our studio. I hope you enjoyed your experience. Please come again." With that Robert put on a smile. Then he picked up a sharpie and began to cross of the names of the groups that were about to finish. By now, people were starting to appear in the front to inform Robert of their leaving. The next few groups had already arrived and were setting up, despite not talking with Robert first. For the most part, these groups were veteran customers so Robert had no qualms with them bypassing him. But there was a woman standing behind Logan waiting to be addressed. Robert knew her as Serina Griffins, a jazz singer who had come in for a recording session for the first time with Keynote Studios.
     



  9. Logan Price
    "Thank you for your compliment. As for concerts, I perform with the local orchestra as well as subbing for the local theatre. Mostly, I work here or on the streets as a street musician."

    He nodded at this and thought a bit before replying. "Ah.. my band and I just play at ragtag joints and make little recordings here and there to try and get the word out about us. We've.. progressed from our beginning years by a lot, but we still have a long way to go." Logan had noticed that the atmosphere of the two grew more relaxed from the first time they'd spoken to each other, and it was less awkward and formal. Robert seemed more casual now with him, but of course he still held his oh so formal image and choice of words. Eventually they reached the front desk and Robert continued to place his belongings into their own little areas behind it, and straightened up to look at Logan. "Thank you Mr. Price for using our studio. I hope you enjoyed your experience. Please come again." He shook his head and laughed lightly, "Please, Robert, just call me Logan." He offered a small smile and turned around to leave until bumping into a woman who was standing behind him. He held back the line of curse words he wanted to mutter under his breath and gave her a pained smile. Don't go off on her. Good impression, Logan... good impression. It took a lot of strength to control his little outbursts he was so prone to having, but he just continued to smile at her before extending a hand to shake. "My apologies ma'am, I was just leaving." He spoke a bit stiffly, but it wasn't too noticeable unless you were searching for it. With one last glance at Robert, Logan turned to walk back down the hallway and to the booth he'd left his bandmates in to pack.

    Brookie opened the door to hand him his guitar, and frowned. "Where the hell have ye' been? C'mon, we're goin' to get something to eat. Willie's paying." Logan just shrugged and followed them out the door, always feeling gloomy after he had to fight back a near outburst. They hopped into their beat up van and instantly turned up the radio before tearing down the road, the males chattering loudly over the music. "Dude, Ron, you were killer on the drums today. Feeling good about something?" Willie piped in from the back, planting a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Nah, just felt ready is all. From all the practice Logan makes us do. He may be a lazy lil shit, but he sure as hell wants things to be perfect." Ron laughed, shaking Logan's seat with a grin. "Hey now, you don't have to live with the guy." Brookie muttered, rolling his eyes. Logan just rolled his eyes with a small smirk on his face, listening to the other 3 chatter back and forth before parking in front of a small cafe. It wasn't very popular, which is why they loved it so much. It was small and had a very vintage feel about it, and even had an old beaten down jukebox that rested in the corner. Sometimes it worked, sometimes not. Luckily they hit the jackpot and it was in full swing, music pouring out of its speakers. Logan walked over to it and flipped through the choices before settling on good ole Guns n' Roses, Paradise City soon filling the little cafe. He lit a cigarette and walked to the booth the others had picked, taking a slow drag as he relaxed into the seat. His thoughts kept shifting back to Robert and the awkwardness of their first meeting, and how it shifted so randomly. They weren't best friends or even buddies, but he couldn't deny the fact that they'd gained some sort of.. knowledge of each other.

    ~ @abalint ~
    (( Sorry! I realized I didn't tag you, and I don't know if you got this already or not, so I'm doing it just in case. :3 ))
     
    #9 Tart, Aug 2, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 3, 2015
  10. Robert nodded as Mr. Price, Logan took his leave. When he knocked into Ms. Griffins, Robert feared the worse, but to his surprise Logan was very respectful. His respectfulness made Robert smile as he watched Logan leave. Afterwards, Robert was stuck behind the desk for the rest of the day, due to a phone call about the recording studio. Artists went in and out throughout the day. None we real stand outs. Occasionally, Robert's mind went back to Logan and his group. Part of him wanted to express his critiques and somewhat rearrange their songs, but he knew that wouldn't go over too well. Instead, Robert finished his work and closed up the studio. It was late and he was alone. Everyone had left already. Robert had promised Sam that he'd close up after a few hours of practicing. Robert kept his promise. After the door were locked and all of the lights out, Robert made the trek home. It would have taken all of 10 minutes to get home by subway, but there was no way he'd take public transport.

    Robert had his instrument in hand while his satchel was slung over his left shoulder across his chest. With a glance to the sky, Robert smiled. The stars, while difficult to see, were out. But that all changed in an instant. Robert wasn't sure what happened. All he knew exactly was that it happened fast. People yelled and there were lights..more like flashes. The next thing he knew, he was staring at the stars again, but this time it wasn't because he wanted to. Robert thought to himself, That's not a bad view. I won't mind staying like this for a while. Soon his vision clouded over and the world went black.

    Samantha got a call a few hours after 10. Immediately, she found herself at the hospital looking over the body of her cousin. She was pale white as the doctors worked on others in the emergency room. Robert was caught in the middle of a drive by shooting. He was shot in the abdomen. It wasn't fatal, but the bullet was stuck in the his flesh. They operated when he got to the hospital, now he was just lying in the emergency room bed. Robert would have to stay at home and do nothing for a while. He wouldn't like that. Sam feared what he'd do with that amount of time alone. She glanced at the bloodied satchel, which the doctors said slowed the bullet. His french horn case was soaked in blood. Sam checked that his instrument was fine, but the case was ruined. There were so many other thoughts went through her head, as she began to doze off herself.
     



  11. Logan Price
    Logan and his crew spent the rest of their day in the booth, chatting and making plans about future gigs and signings. They were all pretty excited as to where they were headed, but Logan was... distracted. He wanted to head home and get his fix on the drugs he relied on. He was a junkie after all, but only got his fixes on weed, ecstasy, and the occasional LSD trip. He wouldn't ever mix these three together of course, or he'd be saying hello to death a lot quicker. Tapping his fingers on the table with a dull rhythm, Logan glanced up to look out the window that sat on his side. The day was ending and the sun was slowly making it's way down, the sky getting dimmer as time went on. He blurred out the voices of his bandmates and the music pouring out of the jukebox, entering a rather trance as he rested his chin in his hand, elbow propped up. He was bored, tired... and wanted to just go home already, get high, and drink away his problems. With these things in mind, his eyes settled on the sidewalk alongside the cafe, a figure walking in the distance holding something in his hands. Though Logan wouldn't want to admit it, his vision wasn't the best, so far away objects were a bit of a struggle to focus on when his vision blurred them together. Squinting slightly to try and make sense of the figure, Logan lightly bit the inside of his cheek from focusing. The figure seemed to be admiring the starry night sky as they continued to walk down the concrete sidewalk, their pace slowing down ever so much. Then, out of nowhere, a cheap looking car came skidding around the corner, its windows rolled down as a hand pointed out of one of them. The hand held a silver pistol, and it didn't hesitate to fire at the walking figure, the civilian falling to the ground limply as the car rolled off quickly. Logan stood up abruptly and bolted out the door, his bandmates looking around confused as the sound of the gun had been fired off. People were yelling and pointing, looking about confused. Slowing down to a mere jog, Logan stopped at the side of the male eyebrows creased in recognition. "...Robert?" he murmured, kneeling to try and get a better look of how serious the situation was. The bullet seemed to have struck the males stomach, or abdomen. Quickly pulling out his phone, Logan reported the emergency.

    A couple of hours had gone by now, Logan still at the hospital for questioning due to being a witness of the situation, and partially because he was a little concerned for the well being of the male. If it had been any random ole stranger, he'd answer the questions and leave immediately, not wanting to talk to the person he 'saved'. But, considering he already had some... ties with the male, he figured staying would be the best option. One of Robert's family members were called, and a woman arrived shortly after the call, Logan recognizing her as the woman at the studio. Standing up from the chair he'd been sitting in outside the room, Logan quietly entered and looked at the unconscious male in the bed, and the snoozing female. He didn't know what to do then, so he just sat in one of the chairs inhabiting the hospital room and waited. Nurses came and went, checking on Robert and making sure he was doing well, changing out blankets and what not. From what Logan could hear, the male would have to take it easy for a couple of days. Another hour or so, and a policeman strolled in holding a clipboard, eyeing Logan. "Sir, if you could kindly step out the room with me and answer some questions regarding the drive-by shooting, that'd be most appreciated." The man smiled, and gestured towards the door. Logan stood and walked out with the cop following behind him, and leaned against the wall. "Where were you when you witnessed this shooting?" Logan sighed, "I was at a cafe near the scene." The man nodded and scribbled something down on the clipboard. "And what all did you see?" Thinking for a moment, Logan thought back to the previous hours. "I saw the victim, Robert, walking down the sidewalk when suddenly a.. 1990 Ford Escort came around the corner, driving off. It was red and run down quite a bit, and I believe the shooter's weapon was a silver pistol." The policeman continuously wrote down these things on his paper, and nodded before smiling some. "Thank you for your time and answers. We'll get back to you if we need anything else to help the case." Logan nodded, and walked back into the room.
    ~ @abalint ~
     
  12. Robert was lost in a vast dark expanse for a few minutes, but eventually his subconscious took hold. His mind slipped into a hole, not unlike that in Alice in Wonderland. While his mind fell farther and farther from reality, his body was taken to the hospital via ambulance. Robert knew that something had happened, but he didn't know what exactly. The only thing on his mind was where he was falling and what would happen once he finally hit the bottom. As he fell, flashes of light appeared. Robert wasn't sure what to make of these flashes. At first, he ignored them, but they got brighter and brighter. It wasn't like the light was harsh or anything. Instead, the light was warm and welcoming. Robert turned towards the light and it grew and grew until it felt like it would overwhelm him completely. But just as it was at its brightest, it faded and Robert was left in the dark again. He was alone and scared. There was just a loneliness left behind. Robert didn't want to be alone any more.

    Samantha was asleep when Robert awoke. He wasn't exactly feeling great; his mind was groggy and his side hurt. He was confused. When he looked around, Robert found himself in a hospital bed. His chest was wrapped in a thick bandage and he barely move. Everything hurt when he shifted posistions. When he finally gave up moving completely, he looked around the room to find a familiar face. It was Mr. Price, Logan. Why was he here? Robert opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry and it was hard to speak. "Why...why are you here? Where's here?" Robert asked somewhat confused. Looking around a bit dazed, Robert placed a hand on his side. He was hooked up to an IV which moaned slightly as he moved his arm. Robert kept his gaze on Logan as he waited for an answer. There was something in Logan's eyes that told him something terrible had happened.
     



  13. Logan Price
    Logan had spent the time dozing on and off, waiting for any sign of consciousness from the other male. Minutes blurred into hours and hours blurred into a big mixture of exhaustion and anxiousness. His bandmates were probably confused as hell, his phone buzzing some as the messages piled up from the crew. After about 5 missed calls and 12 unanswered texts later, Logan finally gave in and walked out of the room, dialing Brookie's number. After about the 3rd ring, the male picked up with a bit of a rush, obviously out of breath. "Logan! Geez! Where are you? Are you still at the hospital with that guy? Is everything o--" Logan interrupted his chatter with a sigh, running a hand down his face. "Well.." He was tired, and irritated. "Things seem to be going fine, the man's looking to be alright, and I'm still at the hospital." He answered the questions sternly and huffed. "Now tell the rest of the crew to stop calling me and texting. I don't have time for it right now, and I'm dead tired. See you whenever.." Logan muttered, ending the call before Brookie could say anything and placing the phone back into his pocket. He walked into the room once more and sat down, returning to his previous activities, which consisted of watching the unconscious male quietly and checking the time every few minutes. Just as he was about to try and catch some more z's, a rustling came from the bed, the other male trying to move about in pure confusion. Logan sat up quickly and bit his lower lip in thought, thinking of how to explain the events that had taken place.

    "Why...why are you here? Where's here?"

    His jaw stiffened some as his mind tripped over multiple thoughts, thinking of the best way to lay the news out in front of the other. "Good to see awake. You're currently at the hospital due to a drive by shooting you were unfortunately part of. I assume you were walking home from work when it took place, and I was at a cafe nearby with my band. Car drove by, you got shot, I called the ambulance." He spoke bluntly, his volume soft in the quiet room. He'd decided to just come out with it rather then beat around the bush. The man deserved a straight forward answer. Logan ran a hand through his hair before sighing some. "I stayed here to make sure you'd wake up and if the police would need more answers." He stood up and placed his hands in his back pockets, his nice shirt from earlier a bit wrinkled from snoozing. His hair stuck up in some places messily, but it just seemed to suit the male nicely. "Anything else you'd like me to explain?" Logan asked, looking at Robert with a quirked eyebrow.

    (( So sorry for the wait!!!! )) @abalint
     
  14. Robert wasn't sure if he should thank the man or not. Nevertheless, he watched the man. A certain calm washed over him as he wondered what was going to happen now. He saw Sam asleep in a chair not far. She looked a mess. He felt bad that he caused her stress. That was something that he'd always done to her. His attention returned to Logan as he searched for words. At the moment there wasn't much else he needed to ask. But then it hit him, "Where's my horn?" Frantically, he looked around the room. His mind was racing as he wondered if his precious horn had been stolen. His heartrate sped up like crazy and the monitors beeped with irregulation.

    A nurse came in and looked at Logan for a moment before saying, "Hello, Robert, please calm down." She was calm as Robert freaked out. According to his charts he was OCD and prone to panic attacks. "Calm down Robert," she said again, pushing him gently back into the bed. It was obvious that he wasn't calming down. Robert was starting to hyperventilate. Immediately another nurse came into the room and gave Rober a shot to calm him down. Within a few minutes, Robert calmed and was staring at the ceiling. He wasn't really concentrating on anything. Instead, his mind seemed to be somewhere else. The nurses left but not before looking at Logan and saying, "Please try not to excite him."

    [[sorry for the late reply]]
     


  15. Logan Price

    "Where's my horn?"

    Logan pursed his lips at the question and glanced around the small white room, looking for the familiar case that held the man's French horn. As Robert began to grow anxious and his breathing staggered, Logan frowned deeply and stood. Just as he was about to try and console the man, a nurse came in and ordered him to keep quiet, while another rushed in to give him a quick shot. They then turned and informed him not to excite or rile up the other, and Logan nodded some before pulling up a chair next to the bed. Robert was currently just staring at the ceiling with a blank expression, not seeming to be concentrated on anything in particular. "Um.. I'm pretty certain one of the nurses took the horn to get cleaned.. but it's perfectly fine." He assured, letting his own hands flop into his lap tiredly. He'd been at the hospital for hours now, but he was glad to see that the other was conscious and alright for the most part. He was fairly worried as to where Robert would stay for the time being, since he couldn't exactly move around and do a whole lot of things by himself due to his injuries. With a grim frown marring his lips, Logan clicked his tongue and glanced at the clock, watching as the seconds ticked by. The room was quiet, filled with the steady breathing of Sam sleeping, and Robert's rather shuddered ones.
    "Do you remember anything that happened?" Logan asked curiously, eyebrows raising as his forehead creased a bit in thought. He could personally still hear the ringing of the gunshot in his ear, along with the screeching of tires along the street. His fingers twitched as his body craved for a cigarette, a damn cancer stick. Really, his body craved for a lot of harmful products and potential deadly substances, but did this stop him from caving in and fulfilling these deathwishes he called cravings? Nope. In fact, this probably egged on to the fact that he even did these things. Perhaps Logan himself was a walking deathwish.
    @abalint

    ( I'm planning to be a whole lot more active! Sorry for the wait! )
     
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