Re: **** in a Box ---- Trixie's hand is resting peacefully on Emmett's lap. Somehow, that small gesture, with possibly no meaning at all, irks me. Her hand is dancing on the surface of his denim jeans, playing with the fabric as she runs her delicate fingers across the material. Emmett doesn't seem to mind. His face is a blank canvas, but the smitten look in his eyes tells me otherwise. This was like receiving the Oscars for him. The small playful action is making his nerves spark like fireworks. "U-uhm... S-so..." Stammering. One sign of being smitten. My eyes avert to Trixie, looking for any signs of caring. She doesn't. Only giggles more and places her free hand on his acne free face, caressing the skin. I don't mind romantic affection, but when a girl like Trix goes overboard with flirting... "Ahem. We're supposed to be practicing, Emmett." "Dude, you sound like that totally freaky teacher of ours." I ignore that comment, and turn to face Trixie. She isn't embarrassed or anything like that. She just stares at me calmly as if I was blocking a TV that was airing her favorite show. "Ugh. Whatever. What song are we playing?" "Fans have requested us to do either Gymnopedie No. 2 by Kevin MacLeod or Payphone by Maroon 5, Captain Emo." "Ughhhhhh." The dark and shady looking pianist cracks his knuckles and stares at Emmett, waiting for his signal. No longer sitting on the race car shaped couch, he takes a deep breath and strides confidently forward. "MEN, THIS IS A TIME OF DECISION. AND MY DECISION—" "is to play Payphone." "... You fucking know me too well." Trixie doesn't object, nor input an opinion. I see her sitting comfortably on the couch-bed, her head down. An awkward silence surrounds her. Everybody looks at the hunched girl, wondering what was going on in her mind. A snore that burst the room's silence made Ace walk over and slap her back. "Ow!" "You were asleep." "I knew that!" "Good." The manchild walks back to his drum set. I rub the back of my neck, silently begging for this day to end. Trixie and I need to talk. -- Three songs later... I rub my sore wrists and tap Trixie's shoulder gently. When she doesn't respond, I grab her arm and haul her out of the door, ignoring Emmett's protests. The door closes as Zane restrains the heartthrob from chasing me down the huge staircase. "Ow! What the hell was that for?!" "First of all, tell me what THAT was!" "Nothing!" "Oh yeah? Well the right answer was 'I DON'T KNOW'. Now tell me what's up before I tell your parents that you've been hitting on a spoilt cabbage." "He is NOT spoiled!" "AHA, so you admit!" Honestly. When Courtney forced me to take her manipulation classes, I never found my new manipulating skills to good use until right now. And God should zap me if I said I didn't enjoy it. -- Short update. Knight is on a hiatus.
Re: **** in a Box Somehow, the band reminds me of the band Eye Candy in the Korean TV series, Shut Up! Flower Boy Band
Re: **** in a Box ;D I was born to entertain, baby. ,_, with that said, I'll make Zane pole dance in a stripper club if I manage to write more chapters. xD Maybe I'll make a seperate series for Zane... Idgaf. THE CHRONICLES OF ZANE! D:
Re: **** in a Box Oh gosh. The Stripper Zane..in HD! What is wrong with my retarded mind today. e.e