playing with [F]ire ;

[CHRISTIAN TONY WEBB]

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LEAVEMYDOOROPENJUSTACRACK
((T A K E M E A W A Y F R O M H E R E))!!!

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Christian sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked around the room. There were crumpled up pieces of paper everywhere and he was going to have to clean them up. Today he just couldn’t think of anything to write – nothing sounded right. Looking down at the lined paper in front of him he bit his lip, wondering what was wrong with him. He had gotten two sentences down that weren’t crossed out and it had taken him nearly two hours. But even these two sentences he didn’t like. As a writer he knew now was a time to take a break, grab some coffee, and come back to it later. Only there was a problem with that thought: the coffee cart wasn’t open. Why? Because it was a shocking three in the morning. Christian hadn’t gone home last night after he had one of his headaches and claimed he was just going to be staying late. Of course, staying late turned into him staying all night and now he wished he would have gone home and gotten some sleep. But he hadn’t wanted to drive with his vision slightly blurry and his head throbbing. Throughout the night he had been sitting at the same chair tearing pages out of his notebook over and over again. Every few hours he’d put his head on the table and fall asleep for about a half an hour before something or another woke him up and he went back to wanting to kill his current writing assignment.

Normal people that hadn’t spent the night here would be arriving around six in the morning or five if they planned on chatting, getting high on coffee, or actually had something to do. But sometimes Helena showed up early just to be here early and maybe, if Christian was lucky, she’d get here sooner than five so he could at least relax a bit before work actually started. Standing up and kicking his spinning chair away from him he walked out of the room and headed to the bathroom. About ten minutes later he returned looking a little better but not much. If there was one thing Christian couldn’t pull off it was not sleeping at least four hours a night. Today was going to be miserable and it was days like these that he wished he was living his actual dream: at home, working for himself, become a well known author and it wasn’t that Helena prevented this from happening, she was just the main reason. There wasn’t a reason in the world he would leave this building for good if he knew she wasn’t going to come with him.

Pulling his blackberry from his pocket he leaned against the door frame of the writers studio, glancing at his new e-mails. There was one from his sister, Sarah, and he smiled as he opened it, scanning over it before replying. Sarah and Jessica were the cute ones in the family, at least in his opinion. And it only helped that they looked exactly like each other. When they had first been born Christian had mixed them up so often he eventually started doing it on purpose. But now that he only saw them once or two a year he didn’t joke around with them as much as he used to. Because he missed them, mostly, and he knew from their daily e-mails that they felt the same way. His parents, however, never e-mailed him. It was expected by now but at first it had been shocking and he had felt like he had been kicked out of the house and the family. When Thanksgiving rolled around for the first time he had gone home and been surprised to see how much his parents had missed him.

Hollywood was taking its toll on him though. It was turning into a stressful working environment with all the drama and he felt like his apartment was the only place he could relax completely. If there was one thing Christian hated it was drama and there was a lot of it in this building. No matter what type of drama it was, even if it was over his job, he would back out and give in because it was just easier like that. Girlfriends also caused a bit too much drama, even at this age: that’s why he didn’t have one. Maybe he just needed a vacation. He could go home or drag one of his old high school friends on a road trip with him. Something to get him out of the office and not worrying about everything, just for a week or two, but what was he kidding himself? There was no way he would actually go through with that after what happened last time he went on a road trip. The trip consisted of crazy driving and the hospital. Stitches for Christian and crazy headaches ever since. Not that anyone knew that. He wasn’t about to go to the doctors and be told he had a brain tumor or something. No, it’d be better to just live his life and die, brain tumor or not, when he died. Hopefully not in the hospital.

He told himself he was just going to sit down and close his eyes: he wouldn’t actually fall asleep. Sitting back down in his chair he pushed his notebook away from himself and put his arm down on the table, resting his head on it. Despite what he told himself he was asleep in seconds. His blackberry buzzed beside him on the table but he was already asleep and failed to notice.





Comments„ „  that was intense (not really)
Lyrics„ „  Fireflies by Owl City
Word Count„ „  nine hundred and fourty
Tagged„ „  Kem!
Credit„ „  Goes to caitlin_express@CAUTION 2.0<3

[HELENA DANE WILLIAMS]

Generally speaking, Lena needed but a couple of hours of sleep per night - the bare minimum being two of 'em. Life was too short to be wasted with sleeping, she deemed, and she wasn’t about to snore hers away. Not when there were so many other things one had to do – books to read, places to be, people to meet and chocolate to eat. A whole world was waiting for her – a whole list of books pending and waiting for her to have time to devour them and a bunch of people she had to talk to. She barely had time for these in a day’s time and she wasn’t about to spend more than a fifth of it sleeping – not until the day had three more hours for her to squander so. It was her philosophy regarding sleep, and she kept it quite strictly – even though sometimes a girl needed to sleep more than 8 hours. Namely when you were either suffering from PMS or were royally fucked up.

Hey, it had happened - sometimes. Some very non-descript times. Like when she’d thought her last script was going to win an Academy Award and that crappy movie about the dog had won instead. Or when your first goldfish had died. Or when the guy she’d liked for a week during her sophomore year had turned out to be gay. Or even when the Spice Girls split. (That had been one of her greatest adolescent traumas, really.) In times like those, a marathon of Friends, chocolate and loads of sleep were allowed. But in such sad times like those, one did not have the detachment to stick to one’s principles – not when you were in mourning, damn it!

She’d woken up startled by her PDA’s alarm clock, as usual and almost jumped out of bed with fright. Fumbling between her bed sheets and nearly tossing the whole bedding of her bed to the ground, she frantically searched for her cell. When she finally found it, she hit the small red button of it – the force of habit being larger than her discernment in finding it, at this moment – her eyes now already wide open. Was she never going to get used to it?! It wasn’t even a beeping sound – she’d changed the thing to the meekest vibration possible. Yet, it still managed to frighten her every single time. It may have been the fact that back when she’d been in High School she’d tried her best not to wake everyone in the house with her morning habits, or the fact that she always had her brain programmed to wake up and turn it off. But it did freak her out every single darned time it rang. She sat down on the edge of her bed and brushed a hand through her hair, – now completely messy and unruly. Certainly because of her nightly tendency to shift and kick - this information having been shared recently by one of her friends, and having been punctiliously denied by Lena every single time it was brought onto the conversation.

The girl closed her eyes for a couple of seconds and lay down yet again on her back, grabbing hold of her cell phone again and checking to see if she had any texts. Obviously, she did not. It was four-something a.m – a morning time when no one in their perfect minds would be up. But for her, of course. Lazily, she shifted so to be laying on her stomach and opened her messaging system to do what the force of habit told her to do – which was basically text Christian first thing she got up and last thing before laying down, something she’d done ever since she could remember herself. Which was for about as long as she remembered him.

DEAREST:
MORNIN’. =]
KISSES, LENA

Not very original, she knew. But one couldn’t be that original for that many years in a row – slowly, she’d stopped putting so much thought into that gesture and just realized it was part of her daily schedule as well as breakfast. Maybe more important, really – since she often skipped breakfast when she didn’t have time for it, something she’d never do with her daily texting with Christian.

Small smile on her face, she got up and directed herself to her bathroom for a quick shower – or what she intended to make a quick shower. The warmth of the water was a bit too tempting for her to quit it in less than fifteen minutes when she basically let the water flow freely – yes, not very ecological, but she couldn’t care less. If there was one thing Lena wasn’t, it was ecological. Also, she didn’t eat healthy food, didn’t believe in abortions and hated Obama – and she’d keep on being like that for as long as she damned liked it that way. She could afford the water, she was sweating her arse to have the money to pay for it – so she would take as long as she well pleased with her baths. Sometimes, she would feel guilty about it – others, she would… not. When she finally stepped out of the shower, her long blonde hair still dripping wet and a towel wrapped around herself, the first thing she did was to check and see if Christian had replied.

He hadn’t.

She pursed her lips a bit when staring at the screen of her PDA. Usually, she’d give him five minutes – ten if they happened to be angry at each other. Probably, he was just asleep. She huffed a bit and threw her cell carelessly back on her bed, where it bounced a bit and nearly fell off – her breath having been caught for a second there. Well. She liked her cell, thank you very much. So it was with relief that she picked it up from its location and carefully – almost lovingly – put it on her bedside table.

Hey. It was womanly inconsistent, yes. But it was Lena for you.

Swiftly, she got dressed, randomly throwing on some of the clothes her family had picked for her – not really bothering if they matched – combed and blow-dried her hair, pulled her bed sheets up and punched her pillow onto its designated place. Then she grabbed hold of her bag, threw her cell and wallet into it and ran downstairs – only to climb them up again to go fetch her keys. Good thing she’d remembered – last time, she’d had to call Webb at midnight for him to come over and open the door for her, seeing he was the person who had it that lived closer to her. It was him, her parents and her elder siblings. Down the stairs she went again, gripping a jacket that was carelessly laying on one of the chairs on her way to the door, opening the door and stepping outside.

It was a cold autumn morning, the type that left her all pleasantly tingly and that made her nose burn a bit with the frosty air. She pulled her coat around her and buttoned it to the very top before turning around, closing her front door and heading for her garage to fetch her car – her Chevrolet, bought solely because of the song and the successor of the post that had previously been held by the car her parents had first given her and that she’d inherited from all her three elder siblings and that had been perfectly murdered about a month after she’d got her driver’s license, at nineteen in an accident involving a dog and a garbage truck. Needless say that her next car had been bought with her money.

On the way to Renegade Studios, she passed by a Starbucks that was open 24 hours a day – one that she was a frequent customer of, given her late night and early morning wanderings – and grabbed a couple of muffins and two cups of coffee. Obviously, they were appropriate for the people who were going to eat/drink them – her muffin was blueberry, whilst the other was chocolate chipped; her coffee was a smooth breva, while his was… well, that awkward-contraption-of-a-thing Christian called “coffee”. Armed with both of them, she arrived at the Studios about half an hour later, stuck herself into the elevator and got out on the Writer’s Studio – the one solely reserved for writers. Like her. And Webb. She wasn’t sure whether he was there or not – he still hadn’t answered her text – but she had a hunch he was going to be there. If not… well, there were plenty of people who liked chocolate chipp muffins.

He was, though. And by the looks of it she saw – while struggling to pass through the door with the small paper bags without its closing on her – he was pretty dead asleep after a night of intensive work like the one she’d had a couple of nights before. God, she felt sorry for him. A small soft smile lit her face as she silently lay the bags on the table, trying not to make too much noise and sat down on the table across him. She picked up her own bag with her coffee and sipped a bit from it, lingering on the taste. Funny how she used to hate coffee and now seemingly couldn’t notlive without it. She licked her lips a bit and leaned forwards to grab a napkin – when she saw the boy in front of her opening his eyes. She continued her motion and grabbed the said napkin, tilting her head to the side and saying cheerfully: “Good morning sleepy head. Did I wake you up…?” Then she merely cleansed her mouth – more because she felt she needed to than because of any actual need – got up, grabbed the bags, turned around the table and sat next to him, handing him his and leaning back on her own chair and taking another sip of her drink.

NOTES && So cute.
WORD COUNT && 1653
TAG && Christian Webb // Cookie!!!

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[CHRISTIAN TONY WEBB]

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LEAVEMYDOOROPENJUSTACRACK
((T A K E M E A W A Y F R O M H E R E))!!!

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Christian hadn’t thought about all the little details that came with staying overnight at the office quite yet. He was in the same clothes as yesterday and hadn’t eaten in way too long – someone important was going to notice and ask why he was wearing the same clothes. The conversation would be easy to go about imagining.
”Hello, Mr. Webb…Why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”
“Well, Mr. Boss Man, I spent the night at the office.”
“Did you not think about bringing an extra set of clothes?”
“Uh, no, sir. It was decided at…the last minute.”
“I see. Did you forget to pay your rent?”
“What?! Do you think I’m going broke or something?!”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Oh, right…I’m sorry, sir. My rent is paid: I just didn’t feel like driving home last night and had a lot of work to catch up on.”
“Why didn’t you want to drive home last night, Mr. Webb?”
“You see, I got in a car crash and now my head’s really screwed up. But no one knows that…Except for you.”
“My, my, Christian. You sure have an interesting life right now. There’s a lot of drama.”
“Drama? What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard? I thought you would be the first to hear.”
“Hear what?”
“Your friend, Helena, is dead.”

And that’s when he woke up, rather startled for that matter. But despite that small matter he opened his eyes rather slowly, squinting for a moment as his contacts figured out where they needed to be again. God, he needed to take those out and put his glasses back on before his eyes really started to hate him. Sitting across the table from him was the one person he was in the mood to see: Lena. And it only helped that she wasn’t actually dead, unlike his boss had said in his dream…Why had he called his boss, Mr. Krinkle, boss man in his dream? That was pretty much the one thing Christian would never do when he was awake, though apparently he’s more than happy to do it in his sleep.

Lena sounded cheerful as always, making him groan as he sat up. Feeling un-manly he reached up and smoothed his rather long hair out so it wasn’t sticking out everywhere anymore. It was only a matter of time before Lena made some sort of joke out of that anyways. ”Mmm, yeah, you did,” he mumbled, assuming that it was true. If she hadn’t come in he might have actually gotten some sleep, or at least more than – he glanced at his phone for the time – a half an hour of sleep. There was no way he was going to make it through the day. But he was still glad that she was here because if anyone else would have woken him up the chances of him exploding at that person was 3 out of 2.

He had leaned back and closed his eyes when he felt Lena sit down next to him and he opened one eye curiously only to see coffee and a muffin – that were obviously his. Almost jumping out of his chair he grabbed his muffin, took an overly large Christian sized bite and then put it down as he swallowed, sipping his coffee. ”Thanks, Lena,” he said, leaning over to pat the top of her head playfully. After a moment of staring at his muffin and glancing around the room he stood up, grabbed the empty trash can and began walking around the room picking up crumpled pieces of paper. There had to be at least a hundred of them: Christian was appalled. Rubbing his chin as he sat back down he looked at Lena, picking up his muffin again as his phone vibrated and fell off the table, making him wince. Stupid blackberry. Leaning down he picked it up and looked at it, scanning through his texts and smiling when he saw the one Lena set him almost an hour ago, the one he expected each and every morning. Most of the time he replied within minutes but today, well, he obviously hadn’t. Oops. He felt no need to explain because the reason was obvious: he had been deep asleep and honestly hadn’t cared who had been bugging him at that moment in time. ”I had a long night,” he said instead, figuring she would understand. From his knowledge he wasn’t the only one that had done this a few times in the amount of time he had worked here, writer or not.

Turning his eyes back to his blackberry he scanned through his new e-mails before setting it down. And the second he put the damn thing down it buzzed again, making Christian glare as he picked it up, but his gaze instantly softened as he saw that Sarah had written back. Lena wouldn’t have to ask who the e-mail was from: the look on Christian’s face clearly said that it was the one of the two people he actually liked in his family. Deciding to reply later he set the phone back down, finishing off his muffin. The muffin had acted like dinner and breakfast and it hadn’t worked so well, but it was better than nothing, that’s for sure.

Mornings like this were often the ones that put him in good moods later in the day. But considering he felt like he could fall asleep again, even with his coffee, he knew that this day just wouldn’t be the best one for him. After all, if coffee couldn’t cheer him up the only other option was Lena but he doubted that was going to happen this morning.







Comments„ „ . . . fail.
Lyrics„ „ Fireflies by Owl City
Word Count„ „ nine hundred and fourty seven
Tagged„ „ Kem!
Credit„ „ Goes to caitlin_express@CAUTION 2.0<3