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Post by patrick on Jan 27, 2007 12:57:31 GMT -5
Patrick had been sitting on his worn cordory couch, enjoying a cigarette and a lionshead when he heard a wrapping on his door. He had nodded nearly napping. . .jk when he got up and opened it. He was only wearing his favorite and most comfortable pair of jeans: they had a brown paint splotch on the right pocket and a hole at the left knee.
He found his brother waiting at the door looking slightly frazzled with his hair sticking up at odd angles and an air about him as if he'd been crying earlier.
"Hey, come in here," he sasid gesturing him inside. "What's the matter with you? What're you doing out now?"
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Garrett Speelers
Undecided Male
Senior - St. James / Hot Topic Employee
First class fuck up. Third class rock star.
Posts: 333
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Post by Garrett Speelers on Jan 27, 2007 16:57:09 GMT -5
Garrett grinned guiltily when his brother let him inside. This was why he loved coming here. It didn't matter what was going on with Patrick, he'd always let him in.
"I didn't want to go back home," he said. "I'm supposed to be working on a project with a friend now."
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Post by patrick on Jan 27, 2007 17:15:19 GMT -5
"Did he hurt you again," Patrick asked, putting out his cigarette in his ash tray adn taking a seat on the couch. "'Cause I swear to fucking God, I'll go over there and kill him now if you want me to."
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Garrett Speelers
Undecided Male
Senior - St. James / Hot Topic Employee
First class fuck up. Third class rock star.
Posts: 333
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Post by Garrett Speelers on Jan 27, 2007 17:20:48 GMT -5
"No," Garrett quickly assured him sitting on the cuoch next to his brother and stealing a sip of beer from Patrick's Lionshead.
"I told a kid about Cullens," he said awkwardly.
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Post by patrick on Jan 27, 2007 17:36:36 GMT -5
"Oh," Patrick said.
He sat in silence for a few moments, letting the menthol and nicotine he'd just had soothe his senses. He wrapped an arm around Garrett's shoulder and patted his back.
"Come here you little fairy," he said as he did so. "I told before, you can't let that shit bother you."
He stood up and went over to his bureau. He rooted through the clothes and found a long sleeved black shirt that he rolled up slightly revealing a leather wristband on his right wrist. He grabbed a leather jacket he had gotten from the salvation army and tossed a black cotton jacket to Garrett.
"Here, put that on," he said.
"Why?"" Garrett asked. "Where are we going?"
"We're going to get some real drinks," he said. "That'll take your mind off things."
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