Tap. Tap. Tap.

Alexander's long fingers drummed against the table. His right hand was the impatient one. Leaning hunched over the table, green eyes scrolling along the lines of a book. His left hand bent behind his neck, under the collar and stroking the label of his long sleeved white shirt. A cable ran from the pocket of plain black trousers to his ear. One ear bud hanging friend while the other played some music. Alexander Tyr didn't care what he was listening to while reading. His attention was on the book, the story and the characters within. He always enjoyed losing himself in the words, a world so much better than the real one. Characters far more interesting and unique then himself and the people around him. Even though Americans were an interesting and varied bunch in this place. None of the more outstanding characters weren't around. The library seem reserved for people like him and a few others when it wasn't being used for study.

It wouldn't last, he had a lesson soon. He'd have to leave this particular literary world in favor of the real one and an art class. He liked art, that's why he chose to take it. Its just he would much rather read, a nerd to the core it would seem. With a stretch he completed the chapter. Dropping the book regretfully in his shoulder bag. Then he simply waited with his head in his hands for the next lesson to come. Still ignoring the particular kind of music that intruded on his senses. He was curious about what would be happening in this class. They had just completed one project, now to start another. He always looked forward to doing something new and creative. A way to put his ideas and imagination down on paper.

Are You Ready by Creed spilled from the radio of Chauncey's black Jeep Commander. Her fingers drumming the steering wheel as she pressed the gas, rocketing a 65 in a 45 zone. Her ass gets caught and that's an automatic court date. Last damn thing she needs was something to add to probation. She pulled into the parking lot of the bar, Bailey, the main bartender, leaned against the wall. A cigarette in his small hands. Bailey was a short man, legally a damn midget. But he had a sexiness to him only he could claim. Tattoos created sleeves on his arms, his dark hair short and disheveled, a five o'clock shadow hung to his face, and a tongue ring that made women scream his name.

"Chauncey." He nodded his small head to her in greeting. His dark eyes traveling down her body as he ground the cigarette into the wall.

"Shouldn't you be in arts n' crafts about now Bailey?" She held the door open for the squat man, chuckling as he flashed her the finger. Zee's Pool Hall was a two part building. A bar on the top with several tables and even a small dance floor. The pool hall was down a small flights of stairs, in a basement like cave. Cigar and pot smoke clouded the air, Manly shouts sang with the loud crack of pool balls. Ever since Chauncey moved to NY, she spends her days here with Randle and Devin. Fellow gamblers. Chauncey bounced down the stairs, looking for the bear of a man who promised an Eight-ball. He leaned over the pool table in the corner.

Maneuvering her way around the pool tables she gave Devin a healthy punch in the ribs. He chuckled and pulled her in a headlock. These men where just as loud and stupid as her, she considered them blood. And will, and has done anything for them. Chauncey wiggled her away from his grasp and watched Randle jump the cue ball. "Foul."

"Damn it lass, I know that." Randle's thick Irish accent growled at her. "My hand slipped."

Chauncey erupted in laughter. "Shit, your just a fucktard." Devin crackled in laughter behind her as she pulled a pool stick from the rack. "You playin Eight or Nine?" She dusted her hands and cue with powder chalk. Randle shot her a black glare, his features pulling together. He was a large ass man, six-four and two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle. Gorgeous with deep green eyes and dark hair. And one hell of a temper. Devin was the complete opposite, thin and lanky, blonde hair with ice blue eyes and bubblier than Dolly Parton. How the hell he managed to hang around here eluded Chauncey.

"Eight." He quipped, a goofy grin on his face. "Hows classes." He leaned on his pool stick, white chalk on his cheek. Chauncey rolled her eyes at the question as she leaned over the table. School can kiss my ass.

"Its good." Like a sniper she drew in a breath and held it, sliding the pool stick between her fingers to smash into the cue ball. An exhale danced with a loud crack as the glistening white cue ball knocked into the purple striped 12, pocketing in the left corner. Last thing she wanted to talk about was Biology or Chemistry. Four hours of Biology notes about drove her crazy today, now it was time to just play pool and get shit faced.

Charlie was earlier than she had expected to be. The girl slipped out of her Aaadorable mini cooper and looked at the school. She had Art soon, and she really didn't want to be late for that. Last she was the teacher muttered something about how obvious it was she wouldn't succeed. Because of her hair? That had generally pissed her off. The sighed, walking into the school. Her laptop bag hung on her shoulder as she made her way for her first class, happy she wouldn't be late.

Props & Mayhem by Pierce The Veil played in her headphones as she made her way to the classroom. They were going to do another project and Charlie was generally excited. The crimson haired girl loved art, it helped her through many things. Plus if she was talented enough, she could be a movie makeup artist! She made it to the classroom, one of the first. She strode over to her seat that she always sat at and waited for the others to get there.

Wulan Lestari was fuckin' pissed.

... okay, so even Wu had to acknowledge that pointing out that she was pissed was like pointing out that the sky was blue, or that a scene kid was being a whiny twat-- it was pretty much a given. Even wondering why she was pissed proved just as often a fruitless endeavour, because the answer generally boiled down to 'just fucking because'. A directionless, torrid anger had simply and suddenly flooded her veins like a sanguinary pathogen-- it was in her blood. Innate, natural to her.

Not that Wu put that much thought into it. She simply decided 'fuck it, I'm pissed now' and figured maybe she'd find a scene kid to beat the ever-loving shit outta. That always made her feel better about things.

Unfortunately, she hadn't really thought that plan through. The whole time on her way to Zee's, she was thinking about the glorious beating she was gonna bestow upon some dumb little emo fuck for committing the grievous crime of bastardising Wu's beloved music. Oh man, it was gonna be biblical. This was gonna make the Mayweather - Gatti fight look like a playdate between friends. I mean, sure, generally Wu preferred her fights to be entertaining, and in most cases beating the shit outta some skinny little shithead with too many colours in their hair wouldn't have been any fun to her, but when it came to the scenesters, Wu was always willing to make an exception. If she wanted a real good fight, she knew where to find one-- but sometimes, you just wanted to beat the crap outta somebody, y'know? Everybody has those moments. Wu just happened to prefer taking them out on scene kids.

Which was probably why it wasn't until she pulled up to Zee's Pool Hall, hardcore punk booming from her beat up old Toyota Celica at outrageous volumes, that Wu realised that if she wanted to beat the shit out of a scene kid, this was almost certainly not the place where she'd find one. "... oh for fuck sake," she rebuked herself for her thoughtlessness. Well, fuck it, she decided with an irascible sigh as she shoved open the door of the car and heaved her considerable bulk out of it. She was already here, wasn't she? Might as well've gone on in and made the trip worth it with a stiff drink and maybe a good fistfight. Pffffft, maybe, she mocked herself sardonically as she approached the entrance. As if it's possible to spend more than a minute in Zee's without havin' a fight on your hands.

Nobody walks into Zee's without being immediately sized up by everybody there-- judgement is passed as to whether or not the fresh meat has the guts and the muscle to stick around, or if they're destined to be chewed up and spat back out like so many others who make the mistake of thinking they can strut right into Zee's like there ain't nothin' to it. For her part, when Wu slammed open the doors leading into the pool hall and strode in, there was no such judgement. After all, she wasn't a new face here. If anything, she was as much a fixture as the ultra-conservatives dipshits who wiled away their days smoking cigars and shooting pool-- she just didn't come here for the pool so much as the booze and the company. Zee's guaranteed alcohol and violence-- and to Wu, that spelled a good time.

Finally the MP3 player switched to a song that he didn't particularly like. It got him moving, for the last minute or so he had just been sitting staring at the table. He stood and disentangled to music player from his pocket, checking the time before turning the device off and stowing it back in his pocket along with the matching headphones. Alexander swung his bag strap onto his broad shoulder and lifted his art folder from the space opposite him that it occupied. Half of the mass of that particular luggage wasn't even art work for his course, a sketch book for his own works and a set of notepads for ideas and brainstorming. Brainstorming wasn't politically corrected but that wasn't so much his problem.

The trip to the art room wasn't a long one. He expected to be arriving along with the others so he was moderately surprised when he opened the door to a mostly empty classroom. Mostly empty because it was still occupied by a single character. Certainly Charlie stood out with her heavy make up and deep red hair, he had noticed her before. Their teacher had unleashed a little rant about punctuality just the last lesson before Charlie turned up late, because Charlie turned up late. It wasn't all that surprising to see her on time since he wasn't aware of her being particularly tardy before the one event. She wasn't someone you missed, even if there were a number of other people around with the same fashion sense.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, sheepishly. He seriously didn't think he was early and now he felt incredibly uncomfortable. Awkwardly he stepped through, saying nothing and looking straight towards the clock. He let out a little sigh, if the one in the classroom was correct than he was early. Which mean he'd have deal with fixing his own time. Not right now though as he moved to his seat a little bit across and behind Charlie's. Settling down and storing his bag under the table before taking his personal sketch pad from its folder. His eyes shifted across to glance at the room's other occupant. Her hair was rather something, he kinda liked the color. A deep vibrant red. Of course he found her attractive but that wasn't particular unique and he meant nothing by it. He quickly turned back to his sketching. Tapping the pencil on the paper trying to think of something to work on. By the time the rest of the class arrived he'd hadn't achieved anything, other than I generally wanted it red like most of his drawings.

Looking up, the girl noticed another had come into the class room. She gave the dark haired young man a smile. Alexander was his name, wasn’t it? As kind hearted as she was, the girl had the hardest time remembering names. Ah, yes, his name was Alexander. Setting her things down, she cringed as her violin case made a loud thud against the hard wood flooring of the room.

“Good morning,” She said softly to the only other person in the room. She had never really spoken to him before, maybe a quick ‘hello’ if even that. She sat down in her seat, watching as everyone else began to file into the room. Finally the professor came in and noticed that Charlie had made it on time, if not early.

“I see you’ve made it on time, Miss Sykes.” He said, smiling at her in a mocking sort of way. Yes, please be punctual or you’ll be berated by a man with a major in art. She almost said, but if she ever had the heart to, she knew it would be a lost cause. He would probably lecture her on respect if she did that. Instead, she ducked her head and looked at the pen she held in her hands. She gave the tiniest of sighs.

He then started off about the project they would be doing, although Charlie wasn’t paying much attention until he said something about grouping in twos for the project. “This might also help you to create a friendship with your fellow classmates. Isn’t that right, Charlie?” There he was again; talking to her like she was his personal clown.

Instead of lashing like he would hope, she gave him a bright smile, “Of course, Mr. Polanski,” She stuck her tongue at him when he turned his back to her. Yeah, it was childish, but who cared? He was making fun of a girl thirty years younger just because, which was immature in itself.

“The pairs will be at random, so don’t think I’m trying to punish you. As fun as that would be.”

The man began to rattle off the pairs, looking at each individual before he told them who they would be paired with. Soon, he landed on Charlie.

”Charlie,” He said with a grin, ”You will be paired with Alexander Tyr.” He motioned to Alexander and Charlie looked over at the dark haired boy. She gave him the tiniest of smiles before returning her attention to the front of the classroom.

Holly sat cross-legged on a bench inside of the library, with her computer on her lap, like it almost always was. She stared down at the screen, typing furiously and working to get past the firewall of the insurance companies, which really wasn't that hard. Leaning back with a sigh and a smile, she broke through the last wall and finally got into the medicinal area. "Good job, me," she said, filling out the form on the website that would send all of the appropriate painkillers to her house. It wasn't for recreational use, because Holly DID NOT do drugs. She was a computer science nerd, not a drug dealer. The painkillers were for her grandma, who had been discovered to have cancer in her kidneys. She had just had a transplant, and their legal insurance didn't cover the painkiller expense. So, Holly resorted to hacking. It seemed to be one of the only ways she could help someone.


Holly shut down her laptop and put it back in the heavily padded briefcase because she never knew when she might drop it. Her computer was her everything. Standing and brushing back her bright-red streaked hair, she walked out of the library and down the walkway towards her house, which unfortunately passed Zee's and The Panther. Her hair might make her look like a hard-ass, but she was a nerd through and through. She just hoped it didn't look like it tonight.

Logan had just moved to NY. It was so much different from the smaller city she came from before. This place was huge and it never seemed to sleep. Logan's father wanted her to go to the school here because he feared that with the way she looked she'd never accomplish anything in school. That always upset her. Sure, she dressed edgier than most teens but she was as quiet and a flower most days. She wasn't afraid to stand up to her father though. She wasn't afraid to stand up to anyone when she felt it necessary.

Logan was not living with her parents. When they shipped her off here they made arrangements for her to live alone. She didn't have to worry about money or her naggy parents, which was awesome. Logan got off of the bus and looked at her phone directions of the place she would be living while she attended school. She walked about a block or so before coming to her destination. It was a modern looking apartment complex. She opened the double doors and pulled her apartment key out of her pocket. When she reached her number she breathed a sigh before opening the door. It was a lot better than what she had expected and her parents had the place fully furnished for her arrival. Of course it was a bit more girly than what she had hoped for but then again her parents didn't know her quite as well as they thought they did. Logan threw her bag down and flopped on the couch to nap for awhile

Mr. Polanski was such a stereotype teacher it hurt. With a name like that and a classroom manner like his he had the making of an unlikable story character. Of course he always passed Alexander over most of the time. That's what you got for sitting quietly and simply working. Then again that was unfair on Charlie, as far as anyone could tell she wanted to work as well but Mr. Polanski had somehow decided he didn't like her. It wasn't exactly something you would want from your teacher, but at least he taught them art in the end. Alexander was eager for a new project though his lack of energetic smile didn't give that impression. Really Alex gave it no more attention that usual. He was slightly curious who he would be paired up and simply lent on the desk.

”Charlie, you will be paired with Alexander Tyr.” Mr. Polanski motioned to Alexander, who straightened in his seat. That was somewhat ironic since she was probably was the one singled out and he was the one ignored most of the time. Also since they were the early pair that day. He turned to Charlie and smiled with a small shrug before looking back down quickly when she turned away. He didn't find it particularly complimentary that their thoughtful teacher's tone suggested that pairing up was anything other than punishment. Tyr didn't know who Mr. Polanski thought he was punishing. Alexander wasn't exactly comfortable around woman. Something that he should be ashamed of at 19.

He waited for more to be covered, Mr. Polanski led them through some examples of collab work. Which styles meshed well and how to coordinate your individual images. He spoke like he knew and to be honest Alexander didn't have much to contest about that. He always worked on his own and in fact he didn't give much concern to the theory from art classes. Although coming from him that meant that he probably knew and absorbed as much as someone not as diligent at studying but still learning. When Mr. Polanski finally stopped repeating some book's three paragraphs on the subject he allowed them to start working. Eager to get on with his work but also rather cautious about working with Charlie, of whom he had not true opinion.

"Uhh... I guess we need to sit together." He began slightly uncomfortably, shifting his cargo to the desk adjacent to her's, its occupant had already paired up. "Well, I'm Alexander. I guess you know that already. Call me Alex or whatever. I don't mind." He didn't stumble over his words and managed a sincere smile. At least he didn't mind being paired with an attractive girl. Although 'didn't mind' was used loosely. It was already determined he was uncomfortable but despite that, Charlie's looks were a plus.

Logan woke up feeling well rested. She looked at the clock and noticed that she had slept through the night. It was 5:03 A.M. almost her normal time to get up for school. She took a quick shower and found a pair of ripped black skinny jeans and a loose fitting shirt that said "rebel child" on it. She did her makeup and drank some coffee before heading out to school.

When she arrived she was almost overwhelmed by the size of the school. She took a deep breath and got out of the cab. She dug around in her school bag to find her Schedule. The first class was history in room 177. She didn't really know where the 100 floor was. She regretted now not going to orientation night.

After wondering for awhile Logan found the correct class room and seated herself away from any and all preps.