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Post by --- Isabel Abi van der Woodsen on May 22, 2009 0:00:16 GMT -5
Izzy had just finished her dance class, she had never been that fabulous, never had the dream to be a dance because she knew she would never have made it, she just liked to have fun with it and shake off a little steam. Her favorite was Hip Hop and Jazz, even if she failed misserable at Jazz. She could have cared less how bad she looked.
But the sun was shining and she had nothing to do, so she stopped by her apartment, grabbed her Yorkshire Terrier mix, flyers she had printed off and headed for central park with little Ollie. She knew it was so typical, the stuck up little rich girl with her pocket sized puppy, but the only reasons she didn't have a big great dane was because she didn't think it was fair to have any big dogs in the city. Not in an apartment, even as big as hers.
The flyers were advertising for a new roommate. She could more than afford a place on her own but she wasn't sure she was quite ready for life totally on her own yet. She had only just moved out of her dads apartment, now she had graduated and was going to FIT it just seemed like a good idea. Still, she knew finding someone wasn't going to be the easiest feet so she had made the rate a little lower, in the hope of getting someone that she would actually get along with.
She started off sticking the flyers to trees but it didn't take her long to get bored and it didn't take Oliver long to give in and stop walking, stubborn little rat. So she made her way onto an open spread of grass and dropped herself down, laying in the sun and tanning her already well bronzed body.
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Post by rae on May 22, 2009 15:24:33 GMT -5
Indie was not dressed for the hot weather; black skinny jeans, a white dress shirt, a slick black tie and a black cardigan with the buttons done up to give the look of a V-neck sweater. His gutair was in its travel case, neatly strapped to his back. With his hair pretty long for a male and of a jet black colour, anyone would think he would be burning beneath his clothes. In all honesty, he wasn't. Indie could never be warm enough.
His black dress shoes made the gravel crunch beneath his feet as he walked down the footpath of Central Park. It was busy, as to be expected on sunny day such as this one, and with it so busy, he was not surprised to be recognised by two teenage girls. He smiled a soft smile as they approached him nervously, a notepad, pen and camera in their hands. Modestly, he signed them a note each, and stopped a passerby to take a photo of them all together. His arms around both their shoulders, he smiled as the camera went off, before politely leaving them standing there. Sometimes it could be annoying, but he enjoyed being stopped like that, it showed that people cared, and that was all he had ever really wanted in life.
Indie found a large bit of grass, with noone but a young woman sunbathing nearby. He liked it. After sitting cross legged on the dry patch of grass, he unstrapped his gutair from his back and placed it on his laps. Pick in hand, he strummed a few chords, humming a new tune he had been toying with, before beginning to sing.
Did it hurt, when you fell, from heaven?
Did you know, did you know, I loved you?
Is it hard, stuck there in my dreams?
Oh do you know, do you know, you are.. my dream.. girl.
Indie sang, he accent sticking as he did so. He kept quiet, his tune soft and gentle.
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Post by --- Isabel Abi van der Woodsen on May 23, 2009 19:53:19 GMT -5
It didn't take long for Isabel to drift off into a light sleep, not that you could tell through her big, bu eyed sunnies. She hadn't been out long when the sound of music brought her back to earth from lala land. The little Yorkie mix was curled up next to her, still sleeping as she sat up, her curiosity wanting to put a face to the sound of the music. As soon as she set eyes on the guy she looked puzzled. Jeans? Dress shirt? Cardigan? Was he crazy?
She was lay there in her little white short shorts and a yellow tank top and she was roasting like a Turkey on thanksgiving. She kept the crazy comment to herself though. She didn't want to interrupt his cute little song. Cheesy as it was, that was just rude, to burst in and ruin it. It would be like someone coming and starting a conversation with her when she was posing for the camera.
Unfortunately, little Ollie didn't have the same manners as her. He'd been woken by her movement and before she had a chance to lurch and grab his burberry leash he was running the short distance between her and the overly dressed guitar player. "Ollie! You little crap bag!" she shouted in her thick New Zealand accent as she jumped to her feet, he had a bad habit of running off but he stopped when he reach the guitar player and started to yap at him. If it could be called yapping, sounded more like a bird chirping it was that squeaky and high pitched.
Izzy snatched up and wrapped her skinny hand around his skinnier muzzle "Bollocks, I'm so sorry, the little rat just bolts like that sometimes, you'd think I'd get used to it and learn to, like, tie him up or something but..." she stopped and menatally slapped herself for going off into ramble mode "I'm Izzy." she finished, forcing herself to stop talking before she started off again.
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