* / gotta be a good life , [c]

[veronicabeau]

Feet tucked into the sand as she sat crossed-legged in it; the position as close as she would get to the sand- afriad to wreck her outfit. She giggled silently to herself, remembering the trouble she'd gone through to find the rather simple-looking blouse and jeans. But that was just how Veronica was, would always be, she assumed. When her mind was made up there was no denying her, she would continue until the deed was done. And such was why she'd been late this morning, tearing up her dormroom just to find the outfit she'd had planned out the day before. The sun shimmered on her already golden hair, no matter how sloppy she made her ponytail it still came out looking as though a stylist had done it. And she'd gotten glances from schoolmates, disgusted looks on the girls' faces. But she'd dismissed them with a shrug, it wasn't her fault everything she touched turned to gold.

Her spine was stretched vertically, the new acoustic laying in the sand at her side- a smile appearing on the female's face every time she looked at the wooden beauty. With the creation in her hand, she imagined herself playing the beautiful music it could make. There was no doubting the fact that she wouldn't ever be world-wide, but it cheered her to believe she could atleast be a well-known artist in the town. Her brows came together for a moment as she looked to the sunset. She just.. needed to learn how to play the blasted thing, first. And it wasn't that she didn't apply the knowledge. In fact, a friend of hers had mentioned a tutor that could help her, but of course the fact that they pointed out he was rather good-looking gave her more motivation.

Gosh, though. She understood the whole 'fashionably' late statement, but honestly? Sundown and he wasn't here yet. The view was nice, but definately not worth spending a whole Tuesday night staring at. Lyrics from Marooon 5's 'She will be loved' poured from her bare lips quietly, hitting every note with grace. She strummed on the guitar with much effort, but gave up after no success. Instead she tapped the beat of the song on it, her conscious wandering away from reality as she let herself go.


char; rooni. <3
muse; ehhh.
words; fouroneseven.
letterto; claude- inky. :D

[Claude Walker]

i hear you breathing in, another day begins

Placing his smooth, beige acoustic guitar in the back seat, Claude rammed the aged Camaro's seat into it's original spot - hearing a click of confirmation. He hopped in the driver's seat, right hand jamming in the keys while his left struggled to reach for the door. Why was his Cam acting up?! He slammed the door, and it groaned a wretched creak in response. It wasn't that he disliked the car, he was just in a rush. Plus, he, ironically enough for being a dude, didn't really know how to take care of the thing. He wasn't really savvy with mechanics.

Annoyed, he shoved the wheel - a honk blaring him in the face in an obnoxious response. Dropping his head back against the seat, his eyes closed, and he breathed out heavily. This girl was gonna hate him. Eyes re-opening, he sat up. "I got this I got this. C'mon baaaby please!" He crooned, jamming the keys back in. Success. The old beauty roared back to life. God, if anyone heard him when he was alone they would probably think he was some freak. Always talking to himself.

He yanked the stick shift into reverse with no hesitation, his free hand fumbling to grab the seat belt and buckle it securely into place. Putting his right hand on the passenger seat's head rest, he looked behind his car and instantly began backing up. "Shit!" He jerked the car to an immediate halt, his heart sinking and then racing like a demon. He totally did not see that person pulling past! Man, he was not on top of it today. Dragging his hand down his face, he shook his head and then proceeded in backing up - without killing anyone this time. That would be an awful, yet ironic, joke if it actually happened. It was a brief thought. He admitted to himself that he probably wouldn't feel so great about becoming a Surgeon for a good while. Killing more people than he even got a chance to save. The marks were going to be against him.

Pulling out of Balston's campus, he, admittedly enough, sped his car past the, well, legal limit. Fifty miles per hour on a thirty-five residential zone. His wide, blue eyes scanned the road. Watch a cop totally bust me. He didn't have any wood to knock on about that, either. Why was his heart still pounding? Jesus, this wasn't some episode of CSI. He took the shortest route: freeway, the closest exit, and finally into the parking lot closest to the Ventura Pier. He parked his car, grabbed his guitar, and hopped on out. While striding toward the Pier itself, his thoughts all rushed at once. Thinking of some sort of apology.

Striding across the beach, his eyes skimmed the area. That's when he realized he hadn't even met the girl before! All he knew was she was blonde, and probably had a guitar, right? Unless she expected to use his. Then, he finally spotted a suspect. ..Was she singing? An approachable smile growing on his face, he headed on over. "Hey! Are you here for the guitar lesson..? Ooor..?" His raised his brows with the question; unsure. "Was supposed to meet someone here. Well, at least a good while ago!" He laughed. He had the typical, casual outfit: sandals, dark shorts, some white tank top with a design on it, and a gray jacket.

the stars are falling out, my dreams are fading now, fading out

---

lyrics •

[/color][/i] your love is a song - switchfoot
notes •[/color][/i] sorry that took a lil while! school & such D; but here we go! <3
& i'm too lazy to do an outfit...
[/blockquote][/justify][/size][/blockquote]