., paper tiger

[arthur]

- - - It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for charles to kick one girl from his apartment at the early hours of the morning, just to wake up a few hours later in pursuit of the next girl he wanted to invite home. the second he was served with divorce papers, he had gone off on a spree of womanizing, drinking, and getting high that hadn't stopped even in the nearly six months since the divorce went through. he was twenty and already divorced, in his mind, that meant he was allowed to have some fun. being tied down to a relationship since he was sixteen, marrying the woman he thought to be the love of his life at seventeen, and watching it fall apart so soon after must have been excuse enough. if he wasn't with his friends, he was working on bedding another woman. if he wasn't doing either of those things, he was laying in bed with a joint in his mouth and his eyes transfixed on the bright television showing scooby doo or some other random cartoon on television. currently it happened to be an old 'johnny bravo' episode where johnny was transformed into a fly due to some random science accident that charles couldn't quite wrap his head around. laughing loudly from his bed, charles had completely forgotten about the girl who had been using his shower. she was a college student that he'd met at a bar the previous night, and although she was a beauty, he could care less about her existence at the moment. not to mention the fact that he couldn't even bring himself to show her much of a good time the previous night. he fell asleep while she was given head and by the time he woke up the next morning he'd completely lost interest.

- - - Which was perhaps the main reason the girl got herself out of bed, made use of his facilities and left in a bit of a fit. "oh, and you might want to get yourself checked, baby. since you blew me and all, the first signs of gonorrhea-"

getting instantly cut off by the slamming of his front door, charles went back to fiddling with the lit joint and keeping his eyes trained on the cartoon. "well excuse me,"[/color] he mumbled as he stuffed it back in his lips, inhaling deeply and instantly regretting treating it like a cigarette. he'd already shut his laptop and tossed it to the other side of his bed. if sawyer was still determined to hang out with him regardless of his feeble excuses of being 'sick,' then so be it. he refused to believe the concept that he wouldn't manage to get in her pants if she came to his apartment to get high with him. instead her simply persisted that he was sick with a cold and if she came over, she would catch it. when at the end of the day, he was sick in a much different way and was convinced that he'd end up giving it to her. which brought him to the swift decision to meet her at the park instead of allowing her to come to his place. it wasn't going to be until later that day - giving him plenty of time to nap and attempt to work off the hangover that was ruining his brain functions - that he would be meeting up with her, but his mind had already formulated theories on how the evening would pan out. sawyer would show up at the park, they'd smoke weed under the stars in some secluded corner of central park, and hope that no one interrupted them. not that they were too terribly at risk of getting caught. charles knew his hiding spots around the park and no one in their right minds were going to be sitting in the park on a saturday night after a hurricane and swooped through, creating a muddy mess of the park.

- - - After sleeping much longer than he'd intended on - in fact, charles hadn't quite remembered even falling asleep - he pushed himself from bed. it was nearly time for sawyer to be arriving at his place, so he quickly sent her a text asking her to meet him at the park instead of his apartment. at least then they wouldn't sleep together and he wouldn't have to deal with the stress of wondering whether or not he'd given her his 'plague' that he'd been passing around the random girls he'd been sleeping with. sawyer was a girl that he couldn't simply ignore for eternity or push out of his life. if he gave her gonorrhea, he would have to hear about it and it would greatly ruin a lot of potential, future, possible interactions with people in his life. tugging on a pair of blue jeans and pulling a shirt over his head, charles was nearly ready to head out. he grabbed his stash and stuffed his pockets. new york police weren't going to stop him. it was dark and he was practically royalty. it was like walking on gold when you were a spencer and regardless of the fact that charles took advantage of the fact, it was nights like tonight where he appreciated knowing that he wasn't prone to getting caught with his pants around his ankles - so to speak.

- - - Deciding to simply walk from his house to the park was perhaps one of the worst ideas he'd come up with. it was a long walk and it was a massive park. did he even tell her where to meet him? was she even going to listen or was she going to make her way to his apartment ignoring his change of scenery. it was cold, he hadn't thought to bring a jacket, and as he finally got into the park, his feet seemed to sink into the muddy grass of central park. " mother fuck, fucking bad idea, dammit."[/color] dropping his weight onto a park bench not far into the park, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, pulling a cigarette from it and placing it between his lips. if sawyer couldn't find him in the park, then she'd call him. and if she did neither of those things, then it was all the better for him so he didn't have to deal with another awkward encounter. he couldn't even wrap his head around how their conversation had gone so wrong in the first place, but he couldn't imagine an in person conversation going much better. instead he passed the time - what felt like hours in his already inebriated mentality - taking a long drag from the cigarette, exhaling and playing with the smoke as it floated around until fading into the night air. if she didn't show any minute, he was planning on getting up and going back to the warmth of his bed.

notes - - for karen. , sorry, i suck at starting.

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[sawyer edwards]

- - - - <sub>Sawyer, was, to say the least, one of the rarest girls you would ever find on the streets of New York. She was the theatre, artsy girl. One who spent her time in little vintage stores, or on broadway street, aspiring to one day end up on one of those stages. She didn't care for the fancier things in life, and would rather wear jeans, and band t-shirts than a fancy designer dress. Sawyer was raised in Savannah, Georgia. A quaint, wealthy southern little town a few hours from the Florida coast. She had spent childhoods in the Hamptons, and rather liked being so close to the city. Her years in Georgia taught her about being hostile. It taught her to appreciate everything that her family could easily hand her. Her father was a senator for the state, and her mother was a famous fashion designer. Her childhood revolved around fashion shows, public speaking sessions and nanny's. Sawyer saw the ugly side to the fancier things and swore she'd never end up like the girls she loathed more than anything. She attended one of the best arts schools in the south, Savannah Arts Academy, and had the best four years a girl could ever have. Landing the lead role in Thoroughly Modern Millie her senior year topped off her years with the theatre department at SAA. She had spent her entire time at high school capturing every moment with her Nikon camera, and her polaroid cameras. She had few relationships over the years and gained the best friends a girl could have. Sawyer attended some of the hottest parties and spent most of her time wondering what her life would be like in the next few years. No where in there, did she ever imagine, that she'd up here. In New York City. Center of Broadway. Home of everything American. This was the only place she belonged. She'd even been studying at NYU's, Tisch School of the Arts, studying musical theatre, with a minor in photography. The two things she'd love most were combined in the place she loved most. It all happened like a dream for her, and she never really understood how the hell she ended up here.

- - - - Never in a million years would she ever picture getting to attend more events than she had prior to arriving in New York. Getting to go to fashion week, premiere's, opening nights on broadway, restaurant openings.. all because she was an Edwards, and because she had connections. Life seemed to zip by like some sort of whirlwind storm. She had just begun her freshmen year, and had only been in New York since the beginning of May. Her family had been staying in the Hamptons, and left Sawyer alone in the city to explore and get the full experience of living on her own. At the end of the summer, her family left their Hamptons beach house to return to Georgia. The first week of being in New York, Sawyer had a chance encounter with an English boy - a hot English boy, and ever since then, the two had some sort of connection. He was definitely completley goregous, but he wasn't the type that Sawyer would ever be interested in. She was drawn towards the artistic type - skinny jeans, glasses, that kind of thing. Not someone who looked like they just stepped out of an ad for a high end fashion line. Those types of boys just never seemed to be interested in her, well, at least until now. The two had seemed to find common interests, and had begun hanging out. He was obviously distraught and had one thing on his mind. She wasn't the type to just give herself to somebody. She wasn't the type of girl who slept with anyone who gave her the time of day. Sawyer wanted a real relationship - one with ups and downs, not just an easy hook up. She could find that anywhere, and it didn't make her family look good if she was always on the front cover of magazines. The two always seemed to be smoking together, or getting wasted together. She'd never, however, let him touch her. Or kiss her, for that matter. He was just one of those boys who just meant too much to her to ruin that kind of friendship. He was different, and she hated admitting, but he was kind of perfect. In an imperfect way.

- - - - It was a Saturday night, and Sawyer's nights somehow always ended up with a boy. Any boy. Not sleeping. Just hanging out. Whether it was smoking it up at Charles' house, or going out to eat with friends. She was never alone by herself, she was always with somebody. After an extremely awkward conversation earlier that day, the brunette boy had invited Sawyer to come over to his house to smoke a bit. As always, she couldn't decline an offer from him. Although, the thoughts of actually sleeping with him would forever be on her mind everytime she walked through the front door, it wouldn't make her want to sleep with him. She just always wondered if it wasn't some type of trap to get her pants off. He was a twenty year old boy, why wouldn't he be thinking about sex? Spending most of her Saturday in a hoodie and pajama pants, she decided to finally get dressed. Throwing on a pair of tights, black shorts, a tank top, combat boots and a jacket, she her purse, and grabbed her iPhone and car keys, and locked the door to her apartment. Halfway down the hallway, her phone vibrated in her pocket and she knew it was Charles. "Fuck! Central Park?!"</sub>

[/color] Of fucking course. Leave it up to Charles to change his mind last minute. Finally arriving, she parked her car in one of the parking spaces and grabbed her phone, and placed the keys in her purse and draped it over her body. Finding him sitting on a bench she let herself sit on the opposite end and before he had a chance to say anything, "What the fuck were you thinking?! It's chilly, it's in a public place and the police could arrest us! You're fucking insane, Spencer. Fucking insane."[/color] In no time, though, this moody person would be replaced by a chill, relaxed girl. Whenever the two got around each other, something just kind of clicked. It was weird. How they could yell at each other, but still they'd never be distant from one another. "Oh, and your stupid fucking bullshit lie about you being sick, yeah, no. You've used that before. Don't fucking lie to me, Charles."[/color] At this point, she was more than ready to be handed a handful of pot, or a cigarette.. it didn't matter which. She was too boiled over to even care.


notes & etc, sorryyy for the suckiness. ; outfit ; country music ; <3 them.
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