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Post by jean on Jun 8, 2009 15:21:32 GMT -7
I run, it follows
I speak, it swallows
With long parties and overbooking shoots; Jean-Michel needed to break from his life. Canceling his week (more so leaving message to his clients at an ungodly hour) and informing his staff, the man left the bustling blur of the city and moved with speed away from the lights and noise into the country and within an hour or more the man arrived at his destination; the family vacation home in Whitstable Beach. It had been years since anyone resided in it but for some reason the two level made of wood and stone still looked inhabitable.
With long parties, overbooking shoots and keeping his side project running smoothly; Jean-Michel needed a break from it all. Canceling his week shoots (with an ungodly hour phone call), informing his staff and appointed one of his most ‘useful’ bartender in running things in his absence and packing his North Face Terra 60 bag with the essentials; he boarded his Custom Deep Cherry Red Desmosedici RR Ducati and raced out of the bustle blur of London out towards his family vacation home in Whitstable Beach.
It had been years since their family had went there; but the desolate and decaying wood of the two stories home that held nothing but custom wooden furniture was all that Jean-Michel wanted. Though he arrived to the home around nine in the morning he fell asleep on a lounge with his bag on the stairs, helmet and riding gear left where he walk and back French glass doors open and screen locked. Hours he dreamed of nothing as his drained body gathered the energy from the moving warm water and moist air that coated the area. By the time he awoke the sun was already setting and he felt a little bit more ‘alive’.
Placing his things within the their rightful place upstairs and out of sight he placed his pair of swimming trunks he emerged onto the back porch with some scruff on his cheeks from not caring to shave and hair still holding its birds nest view. With a few strides he left the home locked with the key around his neck and moved closer to the soft crashing waves. Feeling the cold water engulf his toes he took a few more strides till it was at his waist and dove deep feeling the water shock his body. Refreshing, alive… it was like cleansing his mind and body from the sins and indulgences he does every day. Swimming until the home was almost invisible to his eyes he treaded water letting his body float as he watched the moon rise as he glided closer back towards the shore.
I am where it takes me.
I love, it breaks me. |
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Post by ferrari on Jun 8, 2009 16:23:25 GMT -7
‘‘and if you would call me your sweetheart, [/font] then maybe i’d sing you a song[/color][/font]  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ferrari Marissa Spade walked along the beach with her flip flops in her hand and her arms crossed as she felt the cold water touching her feet. It was pretty late and Ferrari knew she ought to be getting home, you don't know what could happen in this city at night, but she just shrugged it off and kept on walking. She was thinking about what she woke up to that morning. She woke up in a luxurious king sized bed that was in a room that looked fit enough for a king, but it was no king she was with. She was with yet another nameless man, much older then she and absolutely stacked with money. Ferrari thought about how much she had made that night, but remembered even more about the knife she ran across her wrists as she got home. Thinking about that, Ferrari uncrossed her arms and looked at her scared left wrist and bit her clenched her fist, feeling the pain of wrist as she stretched her skin. She looked away from her scares and clenched her teeth in anger and emotional pain.
Ferrari hated her life, it was miserable. She was eighteen and she knew that her life would be over in, hopefully, five years or ten. The young girl, unfortunetly, did not want to live for ten more years. She hoped that maybe on day she'd get killed by one of the men she served, her old one bedroom apartment would burn down on top of her or maybe even... She looked out onto the ocean, "Drown..." she said quietly to herself. Ferrari ran her fingers through her long black hair, ruffling it a little, messing it up. She had been so caught up in her thought that she had only just realized she had walked almost the entire length of the beach. She stopped and was just about to turn around and head to the terrible place she called home, until she saw a figure just a few feet ahead of her in the water. She tilted her head and sqwinted her eyes to try and see. Her bad eyesight got the best of her, it always did.
Ferrari decided to approach whoever or whatever was in the water and began to walk forward. She knew the saying, "Curiousity killed the cat," but she couldn't help herself. She was naturally curious. As she got closer she saw that the figure was a person. A young male, fairly built and alone. Ferrari had to admit that he was very attractive, but his face was so innocent shined in the moonlight that you could almost say he was... beautiful. She thought for a minute, thinking about turning back and leaving him alone, but her friendliness got the best of her and she started toward him once again. As she was walking, she kept her eyes on him. Not physically able to turn them away. She got nervous as she got closer, though she would have normally just have left, not payed attention to him at all, but there was something about him that actually attracted her. Something that not usually happened.
She was about fifteen feet away from the young man now and she was, surprisingly, beginning to get nervous. This was something that not usually happened a lot. She knew that when she got nervous, she got clumsy. Ferrari looked down at her feet as she continued to walk, making she didn't trip over them and make a complete fool of herself. She glanced up quickly and saw that she was about a foot from actually walking on top of the young man. She looked at him for a moment and then she slowly began to sit down beside him, not noticing if he had looked at her or not, but she looked at him anyway when she had sat down and she smiled lightly. "Hello... I'm Ferrari." She asked nervously, swallowing silently as soon as she had finished talking. She had no idea what this handsome young man's reaction would be. She hoped it would be good.
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TAGGED; The wonderful, Jean-Michel Laroque.
STATUS; Post Complete.
WORDS; Six Hundred And Eighty Two.
MUSE;[/color] Day And Night by Kid Cudi. OUTFIT;[/color] Outfit.CREDIT;[/color] kaylax090 at CAUTION!, my chemical romance for the lyrics, blah blah blah. ADDITIONAL NOTES; I'm really sorry about it being so long, but I had a lot of muse. :][/SIZE] [/center][/font] |
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Post by jean on Jun 8, 2009 17:25:21 GMT -7
Clouds far off towards the west glittered with the signs of another storm which made the air around the beach become cooler. Though he felt at ease his body had too much energy and the swim was just not working on burning it off but his body had other things in mind; food. Last thing he had to eat was sometime last night during the binge of drunken stupor. Though his stomach angrily revolted its own feelings he laid still floating in the water before hearing breaking in the waves. Rotating his body so his knees dug into the moist sand and was at waist deep he ran his fingers through his hair to pull it back from his vision.
With what little light was shining from the moon pushing through the clouds he knew the sound was not from the ocean itself. Running his hand through his hair taking some of the salty water from his face into his hair or towards his ears to run down his neck he nodded softly to the girl. She seemed small and how she held herself was timid. She was young; almost close to his youngest sister age but must be older if she was out here at this hour. “Bonsoir…” he stated with a deep cling to his home of France on his lips. His eyes looked around seeing only his home and one farther off in the distant making him wonder if she was from there. “Jean-Michel” he stated as he stood feeling a bit inferior in height that was gifted to him by his father.
“Do you live nearby?” he questioned not sure if she was a local or not. She was thin… his mother side was kicking in and with his grumbling stomach wanted to get something to eat but only stood within the waking water around them. "Don't see many around this time until later in the summer escaping the city," he stated with a look to the growing storm nearby. ooc ;; sorry so short. brain hates me seriously. |
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Post by ferrari on Jun 8, 2009 17:58:13 GMT -7
‘‘and if you would call me your sweetheart, [/font] then maybe i’d sing you a song[/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ferrari continued looking at the young man and was startled slightly when he looked towards her. She looked into his beautiful, hazel eyes. When he spoke, she practically melted by the sound of his accent. She had always had a soft spot for accents. She could also tell that he was not the kind of person that would just tell her to go away, which she met a lot in London. Her spoke his name, Jean-Michel, with that same accent. He stood, making her feel much smaller then he was. She remained seated on the cold, wet sand. She looked down at her toes, wiggling them in the water a little. She then shifted her head abruptly when she heard him speak once again. She looked up at him as he spoke, but when he had finished she shook her head. Starting to get up, she slipped back down onto the sand and looked ahead of her, eyes closed. She really hoped he hadn't noticed. She started to her feet again, this time actually getting to stand up straight.
Ferrari brushed some sand of her legs that were now a little wet from the ocean, they would soon be dry probably from the cold air that was blowing toward her from the open sea. She shook her head lightly, "No, I live a fair few blocks away from here." She said, looking out at the sea and then back at Jean-Michel. She crossed her arms again, getting fairly chilly from the cold air blowing. "I just came out here to get away from it all. Umm... Work, has been a little... bad... lately. Had to get away from it all." Ferrari said, stuttering a little from the cold. Sitting down had not been that good an idea. She looked down at her legs and moved her toes in the sand. She wouldn't really call what she did to make a living really work. More like a miserable life style. She looked back up at Jean-Michel who was a giant compared to her small stature of five foot and four inches. She was a tiny girl and hated it, she was always treated like a child due to her size and that she looked like a fourteen year old girl. She continued looking at Jean-Michel, smiling lightly. He was kind, thank god. You don't know what kind of person you would meet in London at this hour.
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TAGGED; The wonderful, Jean-Michel Laroque.
STATUS; Post Complete.
WORDS; Four Hundred And Four
MUSE;[/color] If I Could Turn Back Time by Cher. OUTFIT;[/color] Outfit.CREDIT;[/color] kaylax090 at CAUTION!, my chemical romance for the lyrics, blah blah blah. ADDITIONAL NOTES; A little shorter, but I still have my muse! :][/SIZE] [/center][/font] |
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Post by jean on Jun 8, 2009 19:40:04 GMT -7
Listening to her words he nodded softly seeing through the darkness that evens the closest house less than a block was dormant and black. Not many came near London unless on vacation or if they knew how to live in it. Sure, the famous son of Laroque could live in it but he had his fingers in the good stuff like tabloids and making the scary look good and appealing. It was how he kept his head on his neck. He watched her hold herself and ripples the water around her feet but with his body burning so much from his metabolism and swim he didn’t even move his arms to shield himself as a gust from the ocean curled around them. He felt bad and looked to the dotted chain around his neck to the key dangling on it.
“Would you like to sit and have something hot to drink? You can get sick walking back to your residence from here… getting something warm into you can help you,” he stated feeling his mother talk through him. ‘Jean-Michel! Get her something to drink and a blanket! Poor thing is going to die of pneumonia!’ “You don’t have to come in or anything; the porch can block off the wind so it’s a nice view, you can’t deny it right?” he questioned with a smile to his statement. Sure, it might be slightly weird to have a complete stranger ask for a cup of tea/joe within the pitch darkness… kind of like a nightclub without the music. He moved a little bit towards his home for the week but still kept his vision to the woman. |
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Post by ferrari on Jun 8, 2009 23:00:02 GMT -7
‘‘and if you would call me your sweetheart, [/font] then maybe i’d sing you a song[/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ferrari was looking out onto the ocean until she heard Jean-Michel speak once again. When she heard his voice she looked to him. Her teeth were clench tightly together as she held her arms, rubbing them every so often. She nodded while he spoke and then he invited her into his house. She barley knew him, she would hate to put him in any trouble. "I couldn't... I would hate to appose." Ferrari said softly, looking up at him. She felt the cold water touch her feet and she took a few small steps up the beach in order to get away from the water. It was freezing outside and she then thought about how far her house was from here. She noticed Jean-Michel begin to walk up the beach, she followed behind him. She looked up at him as he walked forward. He was walking a lot faster then her. Her short legs had to make two strides in order to get the length of one of his. She tried to keep up as best she could. She continued thinking about how cold she would be walking home and about how it would be so rude to just go into his home after having met him not even ten minutes ago.
The thought of her dieing while walking home was almost tempting, but she also had the thought of getting to know Jean-Michel if she went with him. Her curiosity got the best of her once again. He seemed like an interesting person she would like to get to know. "Well, I guess. It is really cold and I don't have anything to put on." Ferrari said softly, almost in a whisper. She continued trying to keep up with, almost unsuccessfully. She had to keep her eyes on her feet so she wouldn't fall face first into the cold sand. "Umm... Thank you." She said a little louder then she had spoken before. Thank you was something she said very seldom as she never really had the need to. Nobody ever did anything nice for her, she was there for when they needed her and then she was useless. She was used to it by now, but being treated with kindness was something almost entirely new to Ferrari.
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TAGGED; The wonderful, Jean-Michel Laroque.
STATUS; Post Complete.
WORDS; Three Hundred And Seventy Eight.
MUSE;[/color] Switchback by Celldweller. OUTFIT;[/color] Outfit.CREDIT;[/color] kaylax090 at CAUTION!, my chemical romance for the lyrics, blah blah blah. ADDITIONAL NOTES; Really tired right now and can't think of very good words, sorry if it sounds immature? :] Haha![/SIZE] [/center][/font] |
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Post by jean on Jun 9, 2009 10:06:02 GMT -7
“It is hard to oppose when it is an invitation,” Jean-Michel stated with a soft chuckle; not many were gifted with the opportunity to sit down within his residence and have a non-alcoholic drink or food. Regardless he needed to get something in his body before it would attack him and eat him from within. His stride was still stuck on city walk (or run way walk if you wanted to put him in a small perspective). Hearing only her faint words that struggled in movement he slowed his paced like he would with his youngest sibling. Reaching the entrance to the back porch he looked to the girl that timidly thanked him but still he chuckled light hearted, “Not a problem,” he stated as he turned the lock and opened the door so it stayed open for her to follow through.
Not wanting to get any small flying insects to circle around them he ventured within the darkness of the porch finding his cigarette lighter and lit a few candles around a small table that looked like a chunk of a cathedral prayer candles were pulled from and placed for usage. Wax of all colors melted and cooled, the design was quite unique and was even used in an older photo shoot. For now, it was a place for light and even warmth. “Please sit, do you have a preference? Coffee, Tea, Brandy?” he questioned as he ventured within the darkness of his residence. Years of coming to this place and moving within it after every blackout he didn’t need the light just yet. Emerging for a few seconds he placed a large soft blanket on the back of a chair for her. “Excuse me, need to dry off…” he stated before disappearing once again into the darkness.
The only sounds he made was the wood bending to his weight as he moved up the stairs to change into something more fitting. Emerging back within a minute he was in a dark jersey drawstring pants and towel over his bare shoulders that ruffled his hair around into a slight mess. Still his body burned within and though the steam he produced when swimming was long gone he still had sweat coming from his brow line as he leaned on the door frame separating the porch from the kitchen. “I am going to also cook something, if you would like something please feel free to say so,” he stated before turning on a single light over the stove that silhouette his frame. He was craving eggs… fried eggs and rice… something not so much common on London but overseas to the east within the Pacific. |
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