Lake Kenforth

(Just saying everyone get ready to transition to the next day..)

Kate smiled as he caressed and stroked her cheek for several minutes, before leaning in slowly, easing his way towards her. She could feel the caution as he slowly placed his lips upon hers. Her logic made her assume in was because this wasn't something he did often, so she decided to take his pace enjoying the feeling of her lips moving in harmony with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his hairline.

Eventually she pulled away slowly smiling at him, keeping her arms around his neck. She glanced at the clock on the wall noticing it was getting rather late. "You know we should probably go get some sleep. Everyone else is probably already in bed if not heading there." Kate said reluctantly standing up, she leaned over pecking a kiss on the neck lightly. "I'll see you in the morning." She whispered, pulling away with a soft smiled as she walked to her room closing the door gently with one last glance at Damien, before getting in the bed.

As she laid there a unmovable smile on her waiting for sleep a thought crossed her mind. "The only other person who makes me smile like this is Phillip..." She murmurer to herself, saying it out loud and bringing fourth a new round of thoughts as he mind tried to develop the idea but refused to see the possibility that the definition of her her relationship with her best friend could be incorrect . That there could be other feelings lingering in her heart but before her mind could delve any farther she began to drift off into sleep.

It was still dark when Philip woke up. As his eyes adjusted in the darkness, he noticed Tina was still sleeping; her back against him. He gently stood hoping not to wake her, grabbing his knapsack he took off; silently closing the door.

Some Lights were still on as he went down the stairs, but there were no presence of the others as he surveyed the area. Before guiding himself towards the back door, he grabbed a pack of beers from the kitchen and headed towards the patio. Soft breeze from the mountains brushed into his face which reminded how summer was always “sweet” here in Lake Kenfort. It reminded how carefree and simple it was. Somehow he wished to go back in time and be how they were before. He wanted to escape this present where things became complicated.

The patio was dimly lit, enough for Philip to appreciate his surroundings. As he leaned on one of the patio’s poles, he gazed upon the lake where the sun started to risefrom the horizon. He watched the lake as it slowly reflected the young sunlight. It was breathtaking; admiring how everything seems to be anew as a new day begins. Like every start of a new day - Philip wanted things to turn out differently once everyone wakes but he knows this is false hope. As he placed his bag on a nearby table, he opened a bottle and drank to quench his thirst.

On the pole he was leaning to earlier, he noticed there were familiar small white dents. It was clearly that visible for the patio’s light was focusing on it. As he touched his upper lip and he felt the scar, he laughed at the thought because he knows that marks came from him. When Philip and Kate were about 9 years old, one summer Kate dared Philip to imitate Tarzan. Nonchalantly, little Philip accepted; hanging from one of beams he planned to jump on one of the poles like a squirrel clinging to a bark of a tree. As he took off, instead of the his arms catching the pole, his face took the responsibility instead. Because of the pain he lost his balance and landed on the floor leaving him bleeding and unconscious. “Things I do for you, Kate.” he laughed again.

He remembered as he woke the morning in the hospital, Kate was there with his parents all night. She didn’t want to leave because she wanted to make sure Philip was ok and she was also blaming herself why he ended up hurt. As Kate noticed he was up, she started crying again saying sorry repeatedly because she asked him to do something stupid. Philip explained to her that it wasn’t her fault, he continued that pole was cursed and didn’t want to be touched. Kate pinched him instead because she knows he was just making it up. From that thought, Philip concluded that he was bad liar. He reassured her again that he will be good in no time. But this time Kate believed her giving him her sweetest smile.

Seeing Kate cry was the worst moment of his life thus promised to himself, that he wouldn’t do something that would make her cry again. But from last night’s turn of events, he broke his promise. He just wished he could see Kate smile again. He pulled out his sketchbook and charcoal pens out of his bag and claimed one of the chaise lounge. As he settled down and given enough light, he started to draw Katelynn’s portrait.

As Philip focused on her smile, he realized that he never really did deserve it. It was always for someone who Kate will love or someone who will make her happy; yet he concluded he was neither of it. As he recall the moment how happy Kate is as she was walking side by side by the Damien, he tried to admit to himself that there could be a possibility that Damien would be good for her. He just wished that he would not end up like Shaun (Kate’s former boyfriend) who fell in love for another girl.

The sun was already shining bright, when he decided to take a break from drawing the portrait. He stood up from his place and stretched his body; he also noticed that his left arm is already full of charcoal smudges. Sitting for long time made him decide to take a swim in the lake. As he glanced back at his piece, he knows that there are still a lot of details missing but he can see Kate’s perfect smile. After finishing his fourth bottle, he paced towards the lake.

Tina was already up when she saw Philip leaving the Patio from her window. Haunted by curiousity, she decided to go to the place and see for herself what he was doing there. As she arrived, she instantly saw his bag on the table and a couple of finished bottles. She didn’t find it unusual since she knows that he likes to drink a lot, which is a common interest for them. However, as she looked more closely at her surrounding she saw his sketchbook and some charcoal pens lying on the lounge. She went towards it and examined what he have drawn. Instanly, she recognized Kate’s face. Rage started to fill her inside, she was annoyed by the fact that Philip was still thinking about Kate; ignoring the fiasco that happened last night and the fact that her girlfriend is still here with him. Out of anger, she pulled the sketch, crumpled it into a ball and threw it away as it stumbled under a table. She then sped back to cabin.

The water was a bit cold when Philip jumped in the lake, but thankfully it’s summer so the water is bearable. He did a few rounds from the booeys and back. As he felt his tiredness came over him, he decided to get out of the water. Fortunately, his swim relieved him of the mental stress he was carrying earlier. He got back into his clothes and trodded off towards the pacio. As he was gathering his things back into his sack, he noticed that Kate’s recent portrait was torn off the sketchbook. He felt exasparated that someone dared to ruin his work. Yet, as he thought of it, there’s only one person in the lake who have the motive to do it, it was Tina.

Philip rushed into the cabin hoping to find Tina. He wanted to tell her off to mind her business and not to destroy his stuff. He wanted to tell her the he had of enough of her “Kate” drama and if she can’t keep up being with Kate she should leave now. Suddenly, he heard a familiar car’s revolution so he headed towards the garage instead. He saw Tina in reverse; maneuvering her car towards the road. As he reached the driver’s window. He asked her, “Where are you going?”

Tina ignored his question but instead dared to say something else. “Don’t you realize why things are going on like this Philip?” She paused and put her car back into neutral. She looked at him again but Philip didn’t give an answer. “You’re so weak that you don’t let yourself be honest about you really feel. You always take the path which you think you are comfortable in and as you go on you end up hurting other people and not realizing, yourself too.” She continued.

“You’re a hopeless case Philip; your family, art, friends. The only thing that’s nice about you is that your loaded but I know that you know that’s not enough.” She shifted her car’s gear to one.

“So the least thing I can do now is knock sense in to you. Now, you clean up your own shit.” With that last words. Tina drove out of Lake Kenworth, leaving Philip standing aimlessly. As Tina’s word sank in, he want back in to cabin, hoping to grab for another beer.

(Day Before)

Rosie grinned as Kris struggled to find words as he explained what he was up to. "Yeah, okay, got it." she teased and bounced on her bed, running a hand through her wavy hair. But, the question he shot at her, she wasn't ready for. "What are you planning to do after this summer?" She had to think about that one... Sure, she wanted a career in music... sure she wanted to play college lacrosse... But it was hard to choose. And so far, she was steering towards lacrosse because she already got a scholarship... And to the college she wanted to go to... A pretty good school in general, and also they had the number one team in the nation. So, she decided on her answer.

"I'm heading out to Northwestern University. Scholarship for lacrosse, so that's a biggie..." she said slowly and then grinned. "Or, I could try and get into music. Dunno if I could if I tried but that's worth a shot!" she chirped. Then, a few minutes later, she heard footsteps down the hall, people heading to bed. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow! See ya!" she chirped and herded him out of her room with a friendly grin, and shut the door. Although, she has been here for probably two or three hours, she was exhausted. Before she came she was practicing pitching and batting for baseball, and then shooting for lacrosse, and then she spent a few hours on her music. Writing, playing, and singing....

Rosemary took a few minutes to get ready for bed... Pulled her hair up into a messy bun, took off her makeup, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and got on a tank top and some black Soffee shorts and climbed into bed. Of course, she'd lie there a few minutes, and then she would either read, or right. Maybe sing quietly and turn the keyboard volume down so she could play. But none of that happened... she slowly drifted to sleep.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


The next morning, Rosie's eyes fluttered open, and she lied in bed on her stomach, sheets tangled up around her legs and shoulders. She groaned and shut her eyes, already knowing she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Figures. So, it was around 8:30 ish now, maybe 9, and she got up, moving turtle slow. She trudged across the room and grabbed clothes at random, settling for an orange swimsuit if they went swimming, a gray and black striped wide shouldered/off the shoulder top, and some old denim shorts that had a thin brown belt. And, her usual beachy wavy styled hair. But, she never had to take off her silver heart locket that hung around her neck. She never took that off... ever. Her mom gave it to her, and she had the key. There was a little key hole in the middle, that she had the matching necklace. At the thought, Rose ran her thumb across it with a sad smile, then got back to business. She applied her usual amount of makeup... barely any unlike some girls. She she slid on her black flip flops, and put her phone in her pocket and she was good.

Soon enough, she was in the kitchen, making some coffee, that she really didn't need. It was her jumpstart... Then, she pretty much raided the pantry, settling on a PopTart, a yogurt, and an orange. She pulled it all together, and sat on the counter eating and awaiting her coffee. She was the only one down there, but she suspected it wouldn't be long before somebody else came. She hummed quietly, fully awake now, and cheerful as ever.

Kate's eyelids fluttered open as she felt the sunlight stream into her window. She sat up stretching ash she looked at the clock only to see it was fairly early, along with the picture that had been in her room for as long as she could remember. It was a summer when they were about 8 years old and the Lefeuvre's had decided to take Phillip and his siblings back for two months of the school year.

She could remember being upset about having to start the school year without her best friend. One of there parents had taken the picture when Phillip was comforting her and gave one to each of them in a failed attempt to dull pain from their brief separation. Katelynn and Phillip had spoken to each other on the phone and the Madison's even took a weekend trip or two, to visit until the Lefeuvre family came back.

Looking at the picture she sighed, wondering how Phillip was this morning especially after the escapades with her and then Damien hitting him in her defense. Katelynn got up deciding to shower, do her morning dance session to keep herself in practice. As much as she wanted to see Damien she wanted him to get some rest, this was his vacation.

Kris walked into the kitchen still in his pajamas' like he did when he was home his eye lids still heavy with sleep. He went to the fridge grabbing the orange juice and pouring a tall glass of juice.

He jumped slightly hearing a noise behind him on the island. He turned around seeing Rosie eating breakfast. "Holy crap you scared me, Rose." He said leaning on the counter. "Make a little bit more noise next time, you're like a cat. Too quiet." Kris said with a grin taking a sip of his Juice.

"How did you sleep? Good?" He asked looking at her. "Dream about me?" He said playfully wiggling his brows.

Kate had gotten out of the shower dressed in her casual practice dance clothes. She was looking around her her room for her shoes, "Where are they..." She said to herself softly her brow furrowing in thought. "Maybe they are in my car."

Grabbing her keys she headed out the back door of the house closest to the drive and garage and saw Phillip walking back to the house his expression off. Unable to resist find out wrong with him she stopped him looking at him. "Hi..." She said softly tracing the bruise on his face before moving her hand away. "I'm sorry.... for everything. I shouldn't have have made such a big show about what happened otherwise this would have never happened. It's funny how one of us never fails to get hurt because of something the other did...More times then not its me who gets you hurt." She thought about stupid dare they had when they were 9.

Kate pulled him towards the garage with her. "I need you to come help me find my ballet shoes. I always miss place them and your the one who always is successful in finding them." She said with a frown. "I really need them. My morning practice is my favorite one of the day..." She said stating a fact she was sure he already knew. Kate walked into the garage turning on the lights and walking to her Audi."Besides, I want to get done before Damien...." She said digging in her trunk noticed he wasn't responding like he normally did. "Are you okay Phillip? You know I forgive you for last night right? So if your worried about that, don't. Unless something else is bothering you." She said having a feeling something happened this morning. "Is it Tina?"

Time had lost significance to Izzie, and so it seemed it was well into the night before she realised just how late it was and decided she didn't care. Sleep had always represented to her not a peaceful release, a rest from the labours of the day, but instead merely an arduous process, an attempt to secure that release, an attempt which rarely resulted in success. Her mind was weary and yet somehow only all too alert, desiring the blissful rest of sleep and yet determined to avoid the very same act of drifting into calm unconsciousness. That was a realm which represented uncertainty, the dropping of the guard she ceaselessly maintained in her endless state of wakefulness, and she only ever, unwillingly, sank into that state, every few days, after which she returned to long years, it felt like, of sleeplessness.

So when Izzie paused from her playing, drifting back into reality from the music she had only just been losing herself in the process of creating, and realised that she'd been sitting here on these steps for more than a couple of hours, the Brazilian woman merely gave a sigh and stood up, guitar held still in her hands. She had no intention of going back up to her room and whiling away the late night hours there. Instead, she felt, perhaps she would go back in and discreetly pick up a few beers, and then she would merely remain outside, where the air was refreshingly cool and she could feel securely, safely alone...

The night came and went. Izzie had returned to the front steps of the entrance, a small number of empty bottles littered about her as she whittled away a brief blues-esque bit she had come up with and was in the midst of polishing when the nascent rays of the reborn sun began to cast their orange-yellow glow over the dark horizon. The nineteen year old woman paused upon the realisation that morning was now upon her, upon the cabin and its inhabitants, and then, in the silence that ensued, she thought she could hear, distantly, the sound of an automobile driving away from the cabin. Well, that's weird. Her brow furrowed a bit. For what purpose was someone driving away at this early hour? Guess I'll find that out later, she reasoned with a shrug, reaching down to the last of the bottles scattered around her within which was still contained some of its liquor. She brought the neck to her thin, chapped lips, feeling the beer swirling down her throat as she resumed playing. Concerns about the rest of the people in the cabin could wait until...well, until everyone was awake and shattering this lovely little peace she'd found in the incipient hours of the morning.




Alex, for his part, awoke some hours later, lying across his bed on his back. His eyes slowly opened, and the first thing he thought--ah hell. It's morning. The large man shifted over to his stomach, trying to salvage a few more precious minutes of sleep--but he then reminded himself of his quarrel with Izzie, and that all but made sleep impossible. Well, one day, he figured, was enough for her to.....well, not immediately snarl at him to leave her the fuck alone if he tried to talk to her. Or maybe it wasn't. Sometimes it took all of five minutes for Izzie to recover from anger incurred by some trivial, insignificant thing--and sometimes Alex spent days exasperated as Izzie refused to cease being furious over something similarly paltry and senseless. He groaned as he attempted to push his heavy frame off the bed. Guess it's time to find out now, eh?

Alex laboriously dragged himself out of the bed, and then trudged over to the closet where he'd hung up all his clothes to retrieve a new set for the day. Lazily he tugged on a pair of regular-fit dark blue jeans, a bit faded from the years, following it by tossing off the shirt he'd slept in and following it with a tight-fitting black t-shirt unadorned by any design that could attract unwanted attention--seeing as his wide, stocky build accomplished that for him as it was, Alex had learnt to opt for unassuming clothing--before making his way to the nearest bathroom to take care of his morning hygiene routine. He most certainly didn't expect he'd find Izzie anywhere on the way--much though he loved his friend, she...didn't always list hygiene at the top of her priorities, which was why she sometimes went days without so much as changing out of her boots. With a heaving sigh, he went about his typical morning business, finishing off by shaving away some of the dark stubble that had sprouted to grace his features, and then slapping some cold water on his face to wake himself up some more.

Having done all this, Alex proceeded down the stairs, descending back down into the kitchen--though Izzie was not there. Curious. She was normally ravenous in the morning...and the afternoon, and all times in between, as well as all times after. Point being, when it was breakfast, Izzie was normally eating. But when he reached the kitchen, he found only Kris and Rosemary eating at the counter. "'mornin'," he greeted them, suppressing an inadvertent yawn before looking from one to the other. "Hey, you wouldn't've happened to've seen Izzie around, would ya?" Figuring she was up earlier than he was--that is, she probably hadn't fallen asleep in the first place--maybe someone had seen her around.

Kazuya was about to approach the kitchen when he saw Kris Sanders pass by and enter it. He had been suppressing an unexpected yawn when he saw him walking sleepily still in his pajamas.

Kazuya actually slept until 4 am, when he suddenly woke up for no explainable reason at all. He tried all possible means to fall asleep once again but it didn't work. Instead, he just busied himself with playing online games on the portable play station that he brought with him. It was only around 7 in the morning when he decided to prepare himself for the day. He took a quick shower and changed his clothes. As he was sorting out the dirty ones for laundry he reminded himself to ask Katelynn about directions for the nearby laundry service later that day. He also planned to buy some of the things that his sister forgot to pack.

Speaking of his sister, he rummaged through his luggage and searched for his cellphone. Her sister repeatedly and adamantly told him yesterday to contact their parents once he arrive at Late Kenforth. It really amuses him with the way his family tends to him. Since he is the youngest of the three, he is usually babied to the point of being spoiled. His mother and sister for instance, never fails to check on him daily. It was also because of this that he got used to someone else taking care of things for him. His everyday needs such as laundry, preparing his meals or preparing his bag for school is always covered by one of the mother hens.

When he saw his phone, he immediately noticed the expected missed calls and voice mails. He opened one and saw the familiar face of his mom. She was asking if the he was satisfied with the place. He shook his head exasperatedly and pressed the options button. He quickly typed a reply and snapped his phone close as soon as he saw the message sent flash. Pocketing his phone afterwards, he stood up and turned to his room. He was about to debug another program when he heard his stomach grumble.

Feeling the imminent hunger, Kazuya reluctantly headed towards the kitchen around 8:45. He thought that nobody would be awake early this morning, he had been planning to get some food, prepare a cup of coffee and just lounge around his room the whole day.

He actually knew so little about Kris Sanders, and the little that he know about him, is that he's part of the baseball team and an active sport player. Aside from that he didn't have the chance to have a conversation with him and he really didn't want to start now.

Hearing his stomach grumble noisily, obviously begging for the food that he wasn't able to eat yesterday night, he then proceeded to directly enter the kitchen. He'd just give him a small sign of acknowledgement, Kazu thought wanting to avoid any confrontation with the other guy. It wasn't anything personal really. It was just that from Kazu's personal experience, people like Kris and he doesn't mesh well. Still staring straight, aiming for the fridge, he walked inside.

He almost did a double take when he turned his head and finally noticing Rosemary Montez undeniably looking radiant this morning, sitting at the counter. "Ro-" He uttered stupidly gaping at the blond haired girl before him.

"You know we should probably go get some sleep. Everyone else is probably already in bed if not heading there." She told him, but her eyes betrayed her. She didn't want to leave anymore than he wanted her to. But their time was up for that evening, and as magical as it was--it had to draw to a close sometime. She kissed his neck affectionately, whispering sweet words into his ear."I'll see you in the morning." She would say, closing the door behind herself.

Damien too stepped towards his door, down the hall and to the left. It was a quaint room. Bookshelf. Bed. Small T.v. The quilted blanket neatly folded by the housekeeper. He sat down on the end of the bed, knees folded and bent, arms hanging in-between. Kicking off his shoes, he felt like he were dreaming and so he drew in a deep breath, exhaling powerfully. He was still soaking in the moment. Still reeling. Before he even realized it, he had fallen to sleep. Slipping of as his body completely relaxed without his even knowing about. At first, it felt more like literally falling. Then just before he was about to hit some unknown pavement--he decelerated rapidly and 'drifted'.

Damien was suddenly jerked awake by a sharp pain to his back right side. So much pain coursed its way so rapidly, that Damien jumped and choked on air as he rolled off the bed quickly. Landing on his hands and knees, bowing his head to his arm he groaned. He had nothing in which to staunch the level of pain. Veins began to sprout along the underside of his skin, along his arms, neck and temples in particularly. His breath was caught in the back of his breathe but he managed to sputter "Son of...bitch.." As he crawled his way to the adjoining bathroom, he grabbed on to the sink and forcibly--with wobbling knees made himself stand. The first time he slammed down on his knee, the second he fell backwards but caught himself with his left arm.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he was a deep shade of red. His eyes full with fresh tears, and his lungs panting emptied of breath. He was struggling to even swallow as he made himself undress and step into the shower. His hands outstretched before him, holding him up by clinging to the slick shower wall, stabilizing him as the hot water beat down on his back. Slowly though, he slid to his knees and then, eventually bent forwards, buckling from the pain. He could hear the cacophony of hard throbs as his blood pressure rose through the roof causing his heart to beat even harder. His eyes, deadened by the overwhelming shock of pain stared at the floor while his forehead rested against the floor.

After a while, the hot waters that steamed as they poured through the air, became frigid and cold. A stirring Damien reached up weakly and turned the shower off before forcing himself to dress once again. It was almost robotic. He had t work two jobs like this, one summer vacation allowed him to take only a few extra moments. He stumbled back to his room grabbing his shirt and putting it on before nearly tumbling down the hall and indeed the stairs. He fumbled through the kitchen not too long before he found the fifth of Jack and guzzling more than a third of it in just a few seconds. He opened the doors, leaving them so before he ambled off down the driveway.

"Ahhh..." He groaned and yelled like he were already drunk, but it was in fact frm the pain. He spat at the ground, revealing that it was purely blood and not actual spit. His eyes were full of tears and he was aimless as to where he was going, or why. He just knew the intensity of the pain. That was when he heard shouting, it sounded full of contempt. He then heard something, a name. Philip?

“So the least thing I can do now is knock sense in to you. Now, you clean up your own shit.”

He watched the car speed away, the red lights as it drew to a stop at the end of the driveway glowed like neon signs. Damien d\took in another large gulp, heaving breaths as the pain seared his side over and over. He could no longer walk straight, not because he was drunk, but rather his pain. He limped as his leg instinctively began to cut back on its work load on his right side, if at all. His right arm too, was affected. The swollen area near his remaining kidney's small tumor, was much larger than it had been. He panted again. " Come on you son of a bitch..." He urged himself, looking out to the small walk to his car. He limped all the way there, opened the door and sat there.

Through out the night, he would polish the entire bottle off. Drinking it slowly as to stay somewhat inebriated. He sat with one leg in the car, and the other outside the vehicle. Damien watched the outline of the sky begin to glow with the sun as it rose up from its grave, the dark violet clouds outlining the deep lavender backdrop. The pink sun seeming all too surreal. He admired the beauty it beheld. He then thought of Kate and his eyes drifted to her window. His thoughts of how he could be right for her. Then why he should be with her. One thing he did know, he wanted her. But did she deserve him, or someone who could live long enough to see her happy. While taking deep breaths to fight of the pain that was still catching his breath, he then thought of Philip.

"That's what I'll do then..." He muttered with bloody, dried lips. He pulled himself out of his famed Charger, turned around and ventured into the woods to think more on what he knew he had already decided...

Piper opened her eyes from the sound of everyones footsteps outside her door. She had always been a light sleeper. Immediately, she knew she wouldn't be ale to fall back to sleep, so she slid out of bed and stretched her arms above her head, before getting dressed into her outfit before making her bed.

She jogged down the stairs and walked into the kitchen, popping some toast into the toaster. Some people were already there, but she was never a morning person, and decided not to talk to them incase she snapped at them.

((Short post, yet again :/))

Tearing off a corner of her PopTart, Rosie giggled when she startled Kris. "Surprise!" she chirped and jumped up to sit on the granite island in front of her. She pulled her legs in =to a criss crossed position and nibbled on her breakfast, and took a sip of her now ready coffee. "Make a little bit more noise next time, you're like a cat. Too quiet." that was a lie. Sure, whenever she moved she had a knock of being almost completely silent. But that was only when she wasn't talking. And it was hard to keep her motor mouth shut, so that wasn't very often. "Well, I do have cat-like reflexes." she teased and with her hand made a claw-like gesture with her right hand. All of the sudden, Kazuya walked into the kitchen and Rosie grinned with a friendly wave. "G'Morning mate!" she chirped. Another sentence blurted from Kris' mouth and she arched her brow.

"How did you sleep? Good?" He asked looking at her. "Dream about me?"

Rosie laughed and walked past him to get to the trash can to throw away the wrapper of her PopTart. She grinned and shrugged. "Oh yeah. Definitely. But I'm pretty sure those are called [i][nightmares/i]." she teased and smiled mischievously. Rosie hopped back onto the granite counter top and held her coffee, taking a few sips. French Vanilla had always been her favorite. That and caramel. But, he number one favorite place had to be Starbucks. Nothing could beat that. A yawn escaped her, and she ran a hand through her hair, her shirt hanging lazily off one shoulder. Rosemary thrummed her fingers against the counter, her teal painted nails making a complex, but musical beat.

(Short post >.<)

Philip’s relationship Tina was not a perfect one but he still did care for her and he also knows that she did too. But for Philip he knew too well it was something that wouldn’t last for the fact that they’re just using each other for their own benefit. As he watched Tina drove off, somehow Philip felt relieved that she’s gone but in the end he still felt broken. At that moment, what surprised the most is the words she said before she left. He knows that all of them were true but he didn’t want to admit it to himself just yet.

When Philip was about to walk up the steps as she heard someone call out; he knows that voice too well, it was Kate’s. As he turned, uneasiness came over him. He hesitated to see at her first yet he realized he might be considered rude if he just walked away. He just didn’t want Kate to be angry again. With a straight face on, he waited for her to continue.

"I'm sorry.... for everything. I shouldn't have have made such a big show about what happened otherwise this would have never happened. It's funny how one of us never fails to get hurt because of something the other did...More times than not, it’s me who gets you hurt." Philip studied her closely as she said these words. He felt alleviated that Katelynn’s anger subsided. Yet, he wanted to disagree because it was always his actions caused him his own hurt. He wished to say that it was never her who caused any of them ever since. When he was about to speak, Kate suddenly changed the subject.

"I need you to come help me find my ballet shoes. I always misplace them and you’re the one who always is successful in finding them."

Philip smiled at the thought. Back at Ridgewood, Kate attends this regular ballet classes after school. Before Philip got interested into dating every girl he finds attractive, he would always wait for her at the studio and they would go home together. (He didn’t know how to drive yet because people are only allowed to drive in France when they turn 18. He learned to drive in the States.) He would always notice how Kate would carelessly shove her things inside her trunk. And before the practice the next day, she would ask him where she placed them. He thought she was just doing it purpose because he would always find it in the most likely places.

"I really need them. My morning practice is my favorite one of the day..." Kate paused. Philip nodded at the fact. He moved close to her in order to find her “missing” shoes. "Besides, I want to get done before Damien..." Kate Continued. Philip cringed as he heard Damien’s name. He didn’t to talk about Damien, yet it seems unavoidable.

"Are you okay Phillip? You know I forgive you for last night right? So if you’re worried about that, don't. Unless something else is bothering you. Is it Tina?"

Philip turned his head, he didn’t want to talk about Tina just yet. He just wished to close his issue with Damien in front of Kate. “I’m sorry for what happened last night, Kate.” He said picking up some things searching for the buried shoes. “At first, I didn’t know what came in to me but I realized that I was jealous of you being with Damien.” he said honestly; he wanted to glance at her but hesitated. “But now I promise you, I won’t interfere again.” He reassured her. “But if ever the odds do not turn out well,” he continued on as he walked away from the trunk and went towards the convertible’s back seat. As he caught sight of the shoes, he bent down and picked up the shoes. “I would always be here for you.” He smiled as he reached out her shoes to her hands.

Damien could feel the earth beneath his feet; fertile top soil, branches sprawled out before him and twisted their way up trees so very high. The air was crisp, he could feel the early morning chill as it passed him by like a stranger waving. It caressed his face, and even as he found it hard to breathe from the pain he manged small inhales to suction the air into his lungs as best he could. He took the air in as it rolled off the water of the lake, as a child took small sips of water. Though no one one not in the immediate area of him could see, he had turned paler since yesterday. He still had the taste of blood on his lips, and in his throat though it had dried.

Damien had thought long and hard about what he was going to do. He stared at his reflection, often wondering if it felt the same pain he was in now. It must've had to, it looked like shit. He often joked with himself about serious things, especially matters of importance. He had done it so many times before, he was astonished he even mentally recognized it as a joke. The larger part of him, didn't want to do it. It was scared to actually. But the part of him that was responsible for that little girl back home--the one he saw more as a daughter than a sister--that part of him was resolute. It had, in a lapse of judgement, fallen for it own whims and realized what it had done now it sought out a way to correct his actions.

He stared down at the placid, unmoving waters. Vacant eyes stared steadily back. The water held no ripples, no imperfections, no flaws. It felt no pain, no fear of the unknown, and if it were known, it didn't help any. His frown carried onto his doppelganger, he stared down and realized he had been carrying an empty bottle of Jack all night. He lifted the bottle, it didn't even have a drop left. Whatever he hadn't drank, had evaporated. He then got an idea, as it would be hard to explain to her why he was carrying around an empty. He simply sighed, he'd have to explain why there wasn't empty bottle laying about. Of course, with what he was about to do--it would be expected of him.

Damien had decided, that the best way to protect Katelynn's young heart, was to break it. Break it before it could flourish into something wild and rampant. Something beautiful and powerful. Of course, he'd wish she could be like that...with someone else. He simply could not leave her in this world, heartbroken and alone if he passed and she fell for him. He turned his head to spot Philip heading over to Katelynn's car. He sighed again, and began to limp his way towards his fate. Every foot fall his heart ached more and more, every moment that passed was numbing him. If he was being a hero, if he was trying to be what's right for her--why did it have to hurt so much?

“I would always be here for you.” Philip handed Katelynn her shoes.

"Philip..." Damien called out his name commandingly, continuing the tensions from before. His breath, oddly labored, but due to the sun shining right over his shoulders--they would not see his pale textured skin. "I would have words with you...Come with me" He simply said, not even bothering to linger around. Uncharacteristically, not even glancing at Kate. It was hard, it was hard for him not to. It was like not noticing the sun or the moon, or the stars. It was like not noticing the water that you were drowning in.


He led Philip a fair distance into the woods, and that when he would begin to see how pale his skin was from yesterday. His eyes drooped, and sweat was glistening from all over his face. How his eyes had changed from the fearsome person that he was yesterday, or maybe the friendly guy that fixed cars. Today they looked almost alien, even to Damien himself who turned his back to Philip and stepped a few paces away. He seemed to be in really deep thought."I'm sorry..." He said, "About yesterday. I told Kate, I told her I wished it was for all the times he pissed me off. All the cockiness, all the flamboyance--but it wasn't. It was because he hurt you. Made you cry like that. I wanted him to cry too. If I couldn't make him feel what you felt, then I'd damn sure give him something to cry about." Damien swallowed, lowering his head as he turned back around.

"Let's get some things straight here. Between me and you. I don't like you. I don't like how you use women. I definitely don't like that you've taken that girl for granted. Now don't get me wrong, I'm sure there were times were you stepped up, but there were a lot of times you could have done much more and you chose not to. I don't care about your dating every fuckin' girl from her to Timbuktu. I don't. I don't care if you want to fuck every girl from her and every state and country to Japan--I don't give two shits. You treat that girl right there--" He thrust his finger past Philip's head authoritatively pointing towards where Kate was. " You treat her differently." He looked Philip in his eyes long and hard before lowering his arm slowly.

Damien stepped backwards a few steps. "Yesterday there was some talk about me," He bowed his head and the lifted it looking Philip in the face once again. " Something you weren't man enough to say out loud. Something you didn't have the balls to say to my face." He nodded, his face blatant with disdain. " I am a convicted felon, Philip." Damien confessed. " But not for some bullshit charge. I took a torque wrench to my daddy's head until my mother pulled me away. I was sixteen. I had watched him beat the tar out of my mother and me, and I was not going to let that be the life for my sister." He said fiercely, with great pride. " So I took a plea bargain, was sentenced two years, got in a scrap after an inmate with some poor aim and the right timing took my kidney and got me another year for nearly killing the man. Shit, maybe it wasn't so bad after all." He chuckled mildly at himself.

Damien found a four foot stump protruding and sat down with his hands on his knees. "I'm dying Philip. Ain't no cure for cancer, not with one kidney left and that one being the cancer riddled one." He nodded, looking around as he felt the moment about to arise. The moment where he felt there was no turning back, but there was also no other way." Some men have got to know when there just won't be a happy ending. Mine came last night after she kissed me and went to bed. Woke up pissing and spiting and throwing up blood. But that ain't nothing new for me. You know how many of those nights I've had taking care of a three year old that calls me daddy when shes really my sister? Yeah, explain that." He smiled looking down at the ground sadly.

"That's why I can't let her fall for me anymore. I spent this whole year," He gestured with his hand by cutting the air into segments. " Whole year, just trying to talk to her. Every time I'd take notice of her ballet, or her swimming. I'd just choke up and quietly exit. Some people just don't get the good endings, they don't get to walk off in the sunset holding their hand or waking up the next morning just watch them dreaming. Wondering, praying that its you they see in there. All I know...all I've ever known is sacrifice. I gave up who I am for who everyone wants me to be. I gave up my life for my sister, and make no mistake I'd do it for Kate. But this..." His eyes became dull, losing their exuberance.

"I feel tired Philip. I feel real tired. And its no matter how much sleep I get. I'm in pain constantly. I'm lying to my little girl, telling her...I'll be okay when inside everything is screaming run for hills its coming down. I drink.." He held up the bottle of Jack. " ...And I drink, if only to stave off the pain for a few lonesome, loathsome hours." He muttered, the looked up at Philip's face. " I can't be her white knight, her protector. I can't her lover, her best friend. I can't be those thing, you understand?" His eyes tiredly looked at Philip. "I'd rather be something she hated me for that I am not--than love me for something that may yet be. I want to, I really do. But I can't. I can't be a failure as a brother, as a father and as a lover and a friend. So I'll be something I know I can be--a simple disguise, that guy that's blindfolded and about to be sent in front of a firing squad. I can be that guy. Just...don't tell her I said these things..at least wait til everyone leaves here, I leave here and you two are alone..." With that he stood up, and limped past Philip leaving him to the quietness of the woodlands as he made his way back to the house.

But it wasn't long before he doubled over in pain, clutching his sides as blood ran between his lips spewing to the ground. He heaved his next few breaths, taking time before he very shakily stood upright once again and resumed walking laboring as he did. He was stubborn, entirely so. But he made his sister a promise, he would find some joy this summer. He was going to stay here until he had. He couldn't lie to her about that. Telling her he was okay when he wasn't, that was one thing. Like any parent figure he didn't want her to worry. Telling her he couldn't find enjoyment, well, that was another.

Damien made his way to his car flipping down the blindfold he caught the pack of cigarettes that attempted to fall. He then opened his console grabbing his zippo. Placing one of the American Spirit full flavors between his lips, he flicked the zippo open and flicked the flint sparking a flame. He drew in in the intoxicating tobacco, letting the paper sizzle and pop as it burned. With a haze of gray smoke expelling from his lungs next, he felt the mask he had bore fore for so many years slide back on.

“I’m sorry for what happened last night, Kate.” He said picking up some things searching her buried shoes. “At first, I didn’t know what came in to me but I realized that I was jealous of you being with Damien.” he said. Kate looked at him shocked, shaking her her head about to speak tell him he had nothing to be jelous about. “But now I promise you, I won’t interfere again.” He reassured her before she could speak out again.

“But if ever the odds do not turn out well,” he continued on as he walked away from the trunk and went towards the convertible’s back seat. As he bent down and picked up the shoes. “I would always be here for you.” He smiled as he reached out her shoes to her hands.

"Thanks," She said thanking him for the shoes and what he said "but Phillip, I don't understand...I mean you have nothing to be jelous about. You've been a part of my life for as long as I can remember and my best friend for years. You're my number one." She said referring to what they used to call each other as children. "I didn't go anywhere when you started dating people...and neither will you."

She said giving him a smile just as she heard Damien making her head snap over to him. " Philip..." Damien called out his name commandingly, continuing the tensions from before. . "I would have words with you...Come with me" He simply said, not even bothering to linger around.

"Good Morning Damien." She said with a smile pausing when she realized he hadn't responded. It was a strange foreign event that pierced her heart

"Damien...!" Kate called gently, frowning as she realized he was avoiding even looking at her. She was about to speak again when she felt Phillip place his hand on her as if telling her to just stop and let him talk to Damien.

She bit her bottom lip gently as they walked off. Kate sighed making her way to the outdoor patio deciding to practice outside. Hoping she would find out what was going on soon enough.

Kris sat listen to Rose tap her hands on the counter as Alex came down. "Hey man." Kris said as Alex came down. He had no problems with Alex, who was a very calm relaxed guy that stayed out of everyone's way. Just the way he like it.

"Hey, you wouldn't've happened to've seen Izzie around, would ya?" He asked Kris. Who shook his head.

"Nah I think we are the first ones up dude...unless she was outside or something." He said honestly. Although he rarely paid attention to Izzie. They weren't exactly the type to get along . It wasn't even that they had done something to one another, their personalities just clashed in a bad way.

Just the Kazu came down staring at Rose in a way that made Kris narrow his eyes. "Ro-" He stuttered stupidly gaping at her.

"Did you need something Kazu or did you fry your brain with one of your inventions?" He sneered, the jealously in him inflaming. "Because trust me when I tell you she's not interested in babbling moron."

Damien spotted Kate moving across her lawn towards the patio. Every part of him wanted to go after her, to explain to her so earnestly. But what he felt he had to do was separate them by yet another wall. Nevertheless he found himself breaking his own rules yet again. Sauntering up to the opposite side of the porch he went in and grabbed a couple of cool ones from the fridge. He nudging the door to the patio open with his foot. He leaned against one of the support beams. He then twisted one of the caps off as he leaned shouldered on one of the support beams.

Watching her bend and flex, loosening her body in preparation for the graceful lithe movements to come. She was perhaps so focused on her ballet practice that she hadn't noticed he was there, or maybe it was just easier to interpret hurt feelings from his rudeness from earlier. How could he blame her? Damien took another sip of his beer, trying to wash the guilt and the physical anguish away while simultaneously taking drags from his cigarette in between. There was not much else going on since yesterday, except this alcohol was like venom running in his veins.Yet the words that was holding in now, the fear, the blame--it was truly was what felt like it was killing him.

A thousand words. A thousands words and he couldn't even say a word. He just held it in. He couldn't tell her how beautiful she looked, or that when she was concentrating really hard her nose would crinkle just a bit. It was the small things he took notice of. Things that, perhaps no one else did. He knew she was upset, and he knew how to fix it. But he couldn't. This was what this Damien was about, that's what he did. His mind screamed, it pleaded and urged him to--just this once be selfish. To let himself have this girl, to keep her precious heart should she be able to give it to him. He remembered that last night, how she kissed him. He wanted that again. But this was what the good guy did right? Gave selflessly for the reward of her happiness and not breaking her heart one way or the other by letting her get any closer.

He was so confused. If this was so right, why did it all seem so wrong now?

Silently, he pulled the glass door open. He ambled into the kitchen, stumbled more like it and from his holding beers it could be construed as the alcohol. In reality, However, it was in truth his kidney. He placed the bottles, three in number, two unopened and one that was opened on a counter top.

"So," He began, playing off that he was drunk. Then again, it was much harder with his paler skin, tired eyes and beads of profuse sweat dripping down his face. " How is everyone this morning?" He questioned everyone in the kitchen, the other guy Kris, Rosie, he wasn't sure about the others, he had to close his eyes and brace himself inconspicuously against the bar. He quickly made himself a scotch on the rocks. His habitual, and what some would call destructive--he'd call it just another Friday night. Only mildly expecting answers from anyone considering their first day, he continued watching Katelynn.

"This will a be long summer." He said with a sigh, taking a healthy swig of his glass.

Rose jumped when Alex came down and she smile with a small friendly wave. "Morning Alex!" she chirped, already in her usual happy-go-lucy mood. Whether it was in the moring, or at midnight, she was almsot always in a good mood... almost. Alex had asked if they've seen Izzie, and she shook her head.

"Nope! Haven't seen her." she replied honestly and innocently. To be honest, Rosie wasn't a huge fan of Izzie. She was practically her exact opposite. Violent attitude, kind of ignorant, but one thing she had in common with her, was that they were both independent, and didn't really care what people think about them. That is probably the one and only thing that doesn't have her at Rosie's throat, and Rosie at her's.

Kazuya began to talk, and he kind of stared at Rose, makin gher blinka nd look away awkwarly. Then Kris snapped.

"Did you need something Kazu or did you fry your brain with one of your inventions?"

"Because trust me when I tell you she's not interested in babbling moron."


Rosie narrowed her eyes. Kris had kinda gone too far with that one. He could have ignored it, just like Rose had. So, she leaned over the the bowl of fruit and grabbed a few grapes, and pelted them at Kris. "Hey, Kris! Hush! It honestly doesn't matter!" she said and threw a few more at him. With her throw, as a pitcher, it probably had a little sting or burn to each grape bouncing off his chest. SHe couldn't help but have a little giggle slip fro her lips. but, once again when she told him to be quiet, her voice rang with a unique sound of authority. Alhtough she was small, she was still tough.

(Probably wont post as much today and tomorrow... playing a double header lacrosse game today, and ten minute halftime game during a colege game tomorow...)

When Kazuya saw Rosemary on top of the counter, all coherent thoughts left his mind. He found himself staring-no gaping, looking quite dumb, at the blond-haired girl. He promptly shut his mouth close and continued to silently study her, his face reddening when their eyes met. With her shirt hanging lazily off one shoulder and a smile pasted on her beautiful face, the black-haired Japanese boy couldn't help but be mesmerized by the girl.

"Did you need something Kazu or did you fry your brain with one of your inventions?"
He had been so entrance with Rosemary that Kris Sanders' statement totally surprised him. Quickly snapping his neck towards him, he found himself being directed with the baseball boy's narrowed eyes. "Because trust me when I tell you she's not interested in babbling moron." He then added sneering towards him.

Kazuya didn't honestly know what got to him. Aside from seldom crossing paths with each other, rarely in fact, on the school, he never really had a real conversation with him before. Kazu heard that he had a girlfriend, someone by the name of Rosemary but he knew full well that she wasn't the same Rosemary Dawn Montez. He didn't know what his problem was, but what the the baseball fanatic said was obviously crossing the lines.

Kazuya's aware that he did looked somewhat idiotic staring mutely at the petite girl, but it wasn't any of Kris' business to tell him on to it. If there is one thing he didn't like, it was those people who act all high and mighty as if they owned the whole universe. Those persons who seemed not being able to stop their mouth from opening and spewing out 'constructive criticisms' to those they don't like.

Narrowing his eyes despite his lackadaisical nature and general avoidance of argument or debates of the like, Kazuya opened his mouth, opting to answer him. But before he could feel his irritation increase and take over his passive attitude, Rosemary suddenly spoke out of the blue surprising him once again. "Hey, Kris! Hush! It honestly doesn't matter!" She said after pelting the other guy with some of the grapes that she got from a nearby bowl.

Looking astounded and a somewhat touched with her defense of him, Kazuya felt his ire waning. When he heard her giggle soon after, the black-haired man almost let out a chuckle as he saw her charming and childlike face.

He decided not to answer Kris' comment and instead focused to Rosemary. She had looked convincingly authoritative even in her small stature. He let out a small smile once their eyes met and turned to the fridge on the side. "Morning to you too, Montez." He said as a response then he looked around and finally noticed Alex inside the kitchen too. He faced him and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Once he got over the pleasantries, about to approach the refrigerator and get his food, he was after all itching to leave for his room, the glass door of the kitchen was silently opened.

In came a stumbling Damien who acted drunk but actually looked like he'd been to hell and back-- with his pale skin, tired eyes and the beads of sweat dripping down his face. Kazu was about to ask for his well being as he had just noticed the other guy bracing himself a little conspicuously against the bar but quickly changed his mind once he saw him preparing a drink.

"This will a be long summer." He heard him say and Kazuya found himself lost for words as he just stared at him, wondering. He wasn't aware of what happened last night. After he realized how stupid he was asking both Izzie and Alex uncharacteristic questions, he immediately went to his room and slept early. Studying the drinking guy, he noted that Damien looked sicker than he did yesterday. 'Did he got himself drunk all night?' The black-haired asocial guy thought to himself, still looking at him quietly.

Philip hesitantly followed Damien towards the forest. He was unsure the reason for this sudden confrontation but if he wanted to know he needs to go with him. When Damien stopped walking, he readied himself anticipating that the event would go “physical” again, however; things turned out the way he didn’t expect. He was at awe as Damien narrated his family’s past. He felt ashamed because he was ignorant at first to learn Damien’s bitter history; which is something Katelynn knew all along. He didn’t fully understand why suddenly Damien was telling all of these to him. He wanted to know so he listened as he continued on.

As these very words came out from Damien, Philip’s eyes widened. He had no idea that he was sick and learning that it was cancer he knows that his life is hanging on a thread. He felt jealousy rushed again through him as he heard Damien mention he had kissed Katelynn, but he held it in. Yet, Damien explained after that moment, he was awoken by the complications of his sickness. Philip studied him closely and noticed he is indeed pale and weak. Then he talked about how his sister came to know him as her father rather than of a brother. Philip came to a conclusion that Damien had been carrying a lot on his shoulders.

“That's why I can't let her fall for me anymore...”

As Damien finished talking about Kate, Philip felt the sadness resonating from. It was almost the same longing they have for Kate; however, for Damien it seems like a tug of war. Figuratively, at first he is encouraged to pull the rope but as he struggles he realizes that he can’t win the battle. He is still clinging on but he wanted to release it and be free. Philip reflected that maybe Damien does not realize that the others like his sister, mother and Kate are pulling the rope with him and once he let go, the people who were pulling might end up hurt or fall.

“What would you have me do then?” Philip asked him. However, Damien did not respond.

Somehow Philip felt they were in the same disposition. They are both afraid to do their utmost desire for the fear of failing to reach the expected. Yet, the difference is that Damien have already tried and assumes it was never enough. Though for Philip, he just never really did do anything about it he just clinged on to the comforts of life.

Philip thought about Damien’s sister and the things he did for her. He understood that Damien did everything for her to save her from the life she could have been living. He had the courage to stand against that life and sacrificed himself for her. But he just can’t understand, after all that why can’t he do the same for Kate. Philip didn’t feel glad at the fact that Damien is giving up on her. (Even though it would most likely end the “rivalry”.) He just believed that Kate didn’t deserve any of it at all, he didn’t want to see Kate to be hurt again. At this thought, he grasp tightened.

“You’ve already done a lot, Damien. But, Why are you giving up now?” Philip just shouted at him as he limped out of the forest. Then he thought of Kate. “Kate will understand. She always does.” Philip whispered.

-----

Philip headed back to garage hoping to Kate. After all the things that happened, he wished to see her but he knows he can’t say a word just yet. He remembered that Damien wanted him to tell her all of he have said in the forest; but Philip knows he is not the right person do it, it should be him. When he reached the garage, he saw no one.

“The day is just starting and a lot has already happened.” He sighed to himself.

As he was leaving the garage, he realized that he hasn’t showered yet after he went swimming in the lake. He went back to his room bringing his knapsack along with him.

(OOC: I felt like I was overthinking when I was writing this one. And sorry for the late post, I was tending to 2 abandoned kittens the whole day. ;[ )

Is he looking at something in particular on me? Damien contemplated, feeling Kazuya's eyes upon him. It felt like he was being burned through from behind. His eye brow would reflexively cock, lifting up somewhat as he polished off his scotch. The glass jingled like bells as the ice tumbled about in the amber liquid. He inhaled sharply through his nose, still feeling peering eyes upon him. He sighed and sat down the glass with a noticeably forceful manner, although it wasn't really slamming the glass down--more like when one ha finished a shot of tequila. His tongue fumbled with his teeth, his head shaking as he muttered something to himself inaudible to everyone else in the room.

He had heard Philips shout: “You’ve already done a lot, Damien. But, Why are you giving up now?” The truth was, he didn't want to give up on her. He didn't want to quit. Not after last night. It was more than just a kiss to him. It was a sweet release. It was like that prize he had waited for all along, fought for all along. But 2 or 3 or 3 and 4 years was not enough time. Everybody had an outlook on where they wanted to go, who they wanted to be. He would not ask her to change her future for him. He'd damned first. He'd rather be something she hated, something to drive her focus--than something to hinder her. He had seen her dance, and thought of it now. How beautiful she was in that quiet movie in his head. Dancing for her was like flight to a bird, and he would not be the one to clip her wings.

He then stood up, having sat down at one of the bar stool and walked around the counter, opening the cabinets. Inhaling again as he looked at the selection of booze. " Ah, binge drinking...wonderful stuff that." He said obviously loud enough for everyone to hear. It was perhaps 8 or 9 in the morning and he was already grabbing the bottle of Bacardi Rum. Damien turned around to everyone that had gathered. He stopped and stared at everyone for a moment. " Okay," He said, placing the bottle on the counter clapping his hands together with a deep breath. " Intervention time...Okay.." He jokingly said. " Right, so after this bottle I promise...I know I promised--never again." He said, letting his hands out to his sides.. " But relapsing is so damn cool." He said with a grin, grabbing the bottle he turned and made his way out.

He wandered for a while. What more was there to do. Half the people were mad at each other, half were in the kitchen probably wondering what in the hell just happened, and others--himself included were too confused or scared to have any fun yet. Hopefully, that would start to change as the day went on. In the mean time, he spotted an unfamiliar face, sitting at a picnic table. Meandering towards the table, he slammed the bottle of Bacardi on the table in front of her. Not really as an intimidating factor, more to get her attention. He could tell from yesterdays scowls towards that other guy, whose name he really did not catch--she was a woman of a different sort so had to be handled as such. Also, she was there at the confrontation of sorts between himself and Philip.

"I may have to punch that Jap. He may be a ninja. I don't know honestly--Just that he kept looking at me. He might try to pull one of those swords out and I'll club him over the head with my tire iron." He said sitting down across from her, he was panting again. His face had regained some of the color lost by flushing. It wasn't from embarrassment, nor meek shyness. It was from overexertion. "But you and I, we're going to connect." He gestured between Izzy and himself." Cause, well, everyone else is either pissed off, giddy, jealous, or in a state I can't fathom." Damien said, breaking seal of the bottle of Bacardi. "Drink?"

(OOC: No problem Kaze! Hope you don't mind the minimal "leash" I placed on Philip. Hope those kittens are doing well! ;( )

Izzie had seated herself at some picnic table she'd come across in the vicinity of Kate's house, still none to eager to return to the house and...what was the term? Oh yeah. Deal with other living things. Always a hassle.

Her guitar rested at her side, for she'd decided she was done playing--at least, for a moment. Instead, the headphones perpetually shoved into her ears were now booming into her head Slayer's War Ensemble--relatively easy listening, at least as far as Izzie was concerned. She expelled yet another jet of thick, suffocating smoke before replacing the pencil-thin filter of the cigarette she'd just lit right back in its home between her lips, her hand tapping along the rapid-fire beat of the thrash metal classic against the denim coating her leg. She'd taken another long, laborious drag from the smoke, still following along Tom Araya's aggressive snarl, mouthing along the violent words. Propaganda death ensemble, burial to be, corpses rotting through the night in blood-laced misery...

Slam.

Even over the furious din of tremolo guitars and blast-beating double bass drums, Izzie could hear the sound of something being pounded down on the polished wooden surface of the picnic table--which wasn't hurt by the fact that she could, y'know, see the object in question. Which was, as it were, a bottle of Bacardi, and if she followed up the hand enclosed around it, tracing up the arm which the hand happened to be attached to, her eyes fell upon the face of one Damien Lewis.

"I may have to punch that Jap." Izzie raised an eyebrow at this. "He may be a ninja. I don't know honestly--Just that he kept looking at me. He might try to pull one of those swords out and I'll club him over the head with my tire iron." Damien seated himself across from Izzie, looking as though he was sweating bullets for whatever reason. "But you and I," he continued, waving a hand between the two of them. "We're going to connect."

"Connect, huh?" Izzie retorted almost immediately. "Well, ain't that rich. Connect. Just outta curiosity, what makes you think I'm remotely interested in 'connecting'?" Since when did Damien Lewis have anything to do with Izzie? She'd hardly spoken to him before. She'd heard rumours about him--but never one particularly interested in...well, anyone, Izzie hardly paid attention to them, more than content to go about her life with absolutely no contact with Damien Lewis. Except now he apparently wanted to 'connect' with her...

Yeah. Right.

"Connect, huh?" He heard her remark. "Well, ain't that rich. Connect. Just outta curiosity, what makes you think I'm remotely interested in 'connecting'?" He could tell just by her tone, what kind of woman she was. Rough along the edges, so guarded she was like a damn Swiss bank. He smiled, and laughed, panting as he called her out. " Well, for starters" He began taking a healthy drink of the light-bodied rum drinking it more like it was a Bud Light rather than any other hard liquor. It had a smooth texture, and a dry flavor. " I'm about the only other person that has any common characteristics--I mean, other than that one guy you hang with." He leaned back momentarily before he sat the bottle back on the table and scooted it towards her.

His eyes, they would be different than before. Before they held kindness, pronounced their intentions very openly. Now they were very obscure, his face very stoic despite his body's obvious nuances. He seemed very calm, nonchalant. Most would consider this very unnerving. Like staring at a prisoner that was smiling at them while they were put to the electric chair. His deep brown eyes glistened while he smiled, pressing folded fingers along his cheekbone and spreading his thumb aligning along his prominent jawline. He had very noticeable stubble. It wasn't unkempt and was very flattering to his face.

"Of course, you're welcome to try and make friends with a ballet dancer, a philanderer, an Aussie,what I can only assume is a tech geek, a baseball player, and two gals--who don't seem to have anything in common with you at all." He sat there and had listed all the others, aside from his self, and their qualities. His smile became a smug one, but not cock in an obnoxious way entirely. He placed his hands on the table, before fishing through his pockets for his cigarettes and his zippo which he skillfully flicked open and then lit. He burned the end of his cigarette, puffing a couple of quick bursts before he laid the cigarette on end in front of her. He then continued to light one up for himself.

" I mean, I know you and your friend like to enjoy bitching at each other, or so it seemed the other day when I was near the pool--the scowling glances aside. I figured you could use someone else to yell at. Just be warned, I like to yell back." He nonchalantly commented, taking a draw on his cigarette, re-situating himself so that he leaned more so back against the table, than towards it.

After finishing her morning practice where Katelynn had worked on her pointe exercise, she sat down in the chair on the patio. She remember seeing Damien going outside towards where a few of the picnic benches were.

She hesitantly stood up not knowing if he wanted to be alone, but after a few minutes of thought decided it didn't matter. He had been acting so different than he had the night before, he completely ignored her earlier and didn't even bother to acknowledge her. She wanted to know what was going on with him.

Walking out to short distance not to far away from the house Kate came up behind Damien, who was about 10 feet away. Only to be surprised that it wasn't just Damien that Izzie was up there. She was about to speak out when she heard something come from Damien's mouth that made her heart drop. "But you and I," he continued, waving a hand between the two of them. "We're going to connect."

Kate quickly backed up behind a tree a little ways away so she wouldn't be seen trying to listen.

"Connect, huh?" Izzie said. "Well, ain't that rich. Connect. Just outta curiosity, what makes you think I'm remotely interested in 'connecting'?" She looked around the tree to see Damien's response only to see him smile, and laugh. The very same smile he gave her yesterday...'Her smile' or so she thought. Feeling the burn of tears filling her eyes Kate turned around trying to silently make her way back to the house.

"I'm about the only other person that has any common characteristics-." She heard him say before he was out of earshot. Kate shook her head wiping her eyes.

Kate's heart felt like it had a million pounds of weights on it, ready to shatter at any moment. A feeling she had felt once before when she was betrayed. Katelynn thought he would be different, that he seemed like he genuinely cared. In the end it turn out to be a false image that she had created trying to find the good in people that sometimes didn't exist.

She thought Damien might of had the same feelings for her that she did for him but he was just using her until his real prize could be reached...which was apparently Izzie. In the end he was just like Shaun...someone who could just so easily toy with people's emotions.

Walking into the house Katelynn made her way upstairs carefully avoiding the kitchen full of people. She walked to Phillips room, noticing her eyes we're red when she passed the mirror. Knocking on his door she sniffled trying to appear more stable then she was actually feeling. When he finally opened the door she walked in hugging him. "It happened all over again." She said trying to keep her tears a bay. "Damien was never really interested in me...he's just looking to 'connect with Izzie'. I heard him and I saw them."

Pulling away she crossed her arms squeezing herself slightly as she sat on his bed not really want to leave, see or deal with anyyone else for now. Sighing she spoke again, "Am I that horrible? Does my money out shine me so much that I won't find someone?" She asked softly.

"You are the only one who's always there for me. Care's about how I feel. Is actually interested in what I do and doesn't just tell me things because you think that's what I want to hear." Kate said softly looking at the spot in front of her before turning to Phillip. "What makes you so different? Why don't you disregard my feelings, thoughts, and wants like they do? Take advantage of me? Because apparently I am that naive and stupid that people think they can get away with it."

His responce was a hearty laugh, eliciting a hardening of the glare in Izzie's eyes as they narrowed on him irascibly. "Well, for starters," he said, stopping to take a swig out of the bottle of Bacardi before forging on. "I'm about the only person who has any common characteristics. I mean, other than that one guy you hang with." His brown eyes, bearing a stoic, unrevealing manner to them, met Izzie's own sharp glare, eyes encircled with the dark shadows of insomnia--almost, it seemed, granting more flame to the gleam of her unrelenting glower, a glare that could wither a grown man to nothing at a mile away.

Well, perhaps that was something of an exaggeration, though it was true not many people saw that glare and then decided 'hey, she seems like someone I'd like to talk to, I should go bug her'. Evidently Damien Lewis did not follow this infinitely more sensible line of thinking, for if he had any reaction to the vicious cold gleam she met his nonchalant gaze with, he did well not to show it. Instead, he was making a show of not doing the sensible thing--by which was meant going away. It caused a knot to come up in Izzie's mind that she refused to allow any signs of to emerge to the surface of her stone-hard, cold countenance--What the hell does he want? There had to be some sort of reason this random babaca she'd hardly spoken to before was now approaching her like he was planning on...hell if she knew. But he definitely had to have something up his sleeve, some motive for coming here for no reason and just deciding it was time he and she 'connected'--it was just the question of what.

"Of course," he continued onwards. "You're welcome to try and make friends with a ballet dancer, a philanderer, an Aussie,what I can only assume is a tech geek, a baseball player, and two gals--who don't seem to have anything in common with you at all." He adopted a smug sort of smirk about his smile, which elicited further irritability from Izzie. She didn't like smugness. How many people had she seen wearing that same kind of smug-ass grin pasted across their face that she didn't decide needed a good ass-kicking right after? Well, fuck if I know, I don't keep a goddamn list of people whose asses I've kicked. She crushed out the now-spent cigarette butt in her hand, placing its ashen remains on the surface of the table. "I mean, I know you and your friend enjoy bitching at each other--or so it seemed the other day when I was near the pool, scowling glances aside. I figured you could use someone else to yell at. Just be warned, I like to yell back."

At this point, Izzie broke the cold harshness of her facial expression. A bitter, venomous smirk instead graced her thin, coarse lips to match the smug one he wore, a malicious glint arising to her dark eyes. "If you think I came here to try and make friends with a ballet dancer or two gals, or to find someone to yell at..." She reached out, grabbing the bottle of Bacardi he'd edged towards her, and downed a generous swig of it, wiping across her mouth with the back of her tattooed hand. "You obviously figured wrong."

Ray shook his head, and walked back to his bagadge. "There is nothing for me here."He said, walking into the kitchen with his things. ((Sorry its a super short post, I have really nothing to write))

"If you think I came here to try and make friends with a ballet dancer or two gals, or to find someone to yell at..." He watched her snatch away the bottle of Bacardi with a grin.He was glad that even though he was in so much pain, pain that would make any average man double over like a prepubescent teen with kidney stones. Yet that pain failed to translate on his face now. His eyes watched her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and finished her statement. "You obviously figured wrong." He simply chuckled again, taking the bottle for his turn for a drink.

"Oh, yeah, I can see you arm being twisted there." He held the bottle as she relinquished her hold on the beverage. He pointed at her, not yet taking his turn to drink, as though it were a simple game. "Yeah, I can see that. You like it kinky. I can understand that--kinky is good." He laughed, practically mocking her proclamation with a smartassed comment. However just as he was enjoying himself, he felt prying eyes upon him and instinctively--he knew who was looking at him. Katelynn. He looked down, staring down into the bottle as if asking it rather than himself if he should turn around to greet her.

Decidedly, he chose not to.He simply sighed,feeling the levity of his mood let out of him. He then took to the bottle, downing the liquid to both ease his kidney pain and to ease his troubled mind. Setting the bottle down between them, he drew a deep breath and watched Isabelle. Taking notice of the 'finer' details. He took particular interest in several of tattoos. In lighting, yet another cigarette, his habit of freight training beginning to expose itself--he pointed at her Motörhead War Pig tattoo in particular.

"You a fan of Motörhead too, eh?" He spoke the cigarette on the edge of his lips, his eyes furrowed only slight his eyes being more or less used to the smoke rising up into them by now. "I have a Les Paul with Limmy's, M'Dee's and Cambell's signature on it. You can have it if you want, my step-father doesn't know much about English rock bands--He still thinks Queen is still around." He laughed, flicking the ashes of his cigarette as he held backhandedly. He then stood up, but it wasn't to walk away but to pullup his pant leg on his right leg. Beneath was quite a surprise. A twenty inch Hibben Bowie Knife. Fourteen inches of blade came unsheathed as he drew the knife. It had a hardwood handle made of Hickory and the brass cross-guard was polished to a sheen. Ingrained in the hilt was the Confederate general Robert E. Lee. It was inlaid as though branded there by a poker

Sitting back down, he carved in diminutive numbers and lettering, his trailer address and the number of the trailer. "Whenever you want, you can swing by this address.." He said, concentrating on carving the old wood of the table that was worn from the elements. "If I'm not there, just say you're a friend and you're picking that old crappy guitar up. I'm sure my step-father would love you for it." He he leaned back only after plunging the tip of the large knife into the wood. He would take another drink of Bacardi only to wash it down by inhaling a long drag off his cigarette nonchalantly.

"Those other tattoos, they're Egyptian. You get them for any particular reason?" He questioned, leaning back.

"Oh yeah, I can see your arm being twisted there," he said, taking hold of the bottle but merely pointing a finger at her. "Yeah, I can see that. You like it kinky. I can understand that, kinky is good." Izzie's brow knotted--she couldn't tell exactly what the hell that meant, but she had a feeling that whatever it was it was mocking her. Seemed a safe enough assumption. Didn't help that he was, it seemed, staring at her now, his eyes raking over the strong muscles of her form and, it seemed, examining the amalgamation of tattoos and scars that laid across the canvas of her dark skin. She picked up the cigarette that had been laid on the table, taking a generous puff of it before returning his stare with her own glare once more. "Well what the fuck are you starin' at?" she demanded irascibly, his staring making her, as it were, a bit uneasy. She was used to people staring at her: you kinda had to when you stood head and shoulders over most people, and she didn't exactly dress inconspicuously. Nevertheless, she could deal with people staring at her as she passed by. She did not like someone right in front of her staring at her, especially when she had no idea what exactly they wanted out of her. But then, she intended on figuring that one out soon.

"You a fan of Motörhead too, eh?" he mentioned, the cigarette still between his lips bobbing up and down with the words; he seemed to have taken note of the War Pig adorning her left arm. "I have a Les Paul with Lemmy's, M'Dee's and Campbell's signatures on it. You can have it if you want." That was the point where Izzie kinda stopped listening because she was too busy thinking what. Hold up now, did he just say I could just have the fucking Les Paul? Who does that? No one just up and gave some stranger a Gibson Les Paul--much less one that'd been signed by all the members of Motörhead. While she was still trying to figure out the degree of mental retardation that just had to be present in someone who not only walked up to her and actively started talking to her, but also offered her a Gibson fucking Les Paul for free, Damien stood, retrieving from his jeans...a massive fucking knife. She judged the blade, just by eye-balling it...thirteen, fourteen inches in length. And it was fancy as all hell, with a polished cross guard and some old dude with a beard inlaid in the hilt. Huh. And here Izzie'd always figured, at the least, that Damien probably had been raised in and/or now lived in relative poverty much like Izzie herself...at least before he started busting out the Les Pauls and the crazy fancy knives.

With aforementioned crazy fancy knife, the guy set to carving some words and numbers into the wood of the picnic table. "Whenever you want, you can swing by this address," he remarked, leaning back as he finished carving what Izzie presumed to be the address into the wood of the table. "If I'm not there, just say you're a friend and you're picking that old crappy guitar up. I'm sure my step-father would love you for it." And with that, he stuck the knife into the wood of the table by the tip of it, taking another drink of Bacardi. "Those other tattoos," he continued as he set the bottle down. "They're Egyptian. You get them for any particular reason?"

"Enough questions," Izzie grunted sharply, even though it was the first question he'd actually asked. "What do you want?" There was no need for elabouration, and no need for sprucing it up with politeness (or, y'know, manners, which she lacked direly). He had some sort of ulterior motive; he knew it, she knew it, and she wanted to know what the hell it was and for what purpose he was spontaneously interested in her.