( college. it's not the thing she wants to do, but it's a thing she does nonetheless, funded by guilt-ridden parents with more money than sense. for a moment, she considers ucla — something close to home, familiar — but the allure of anonymity draws her to the east coast instead.
why she chooses athens is a mystery. (trini goes to savannah for graphic design. the two cities aren't that far apart. far from home doesn't have to mean totally alone.)
today, the campus is empty, most of the school gone on the last week of winter break; she's opted to ride the train an hour south into the busier streets of atlanta, where she can wander and shop until her feet give in.
or, at the very least, until she's in desperate need of caffeine. like she is now, standing in line at a coffee shop downtown, listening to the bass pumping from someone else's headphones. she's not sure whose, but at least it makes a good beat. something to dance to while she waits. )
[ Baby is late, which is something he usually never is. It makes his shoulders tense, his fingers beat in time with the song he's playing, drowning out everything else in the coffee shop with its angry political message. His head bob with the beat, as he checks his watch once more.
Might as well cancel altogether. He's not going to make up the time, now, and the good thing about not being indebted to criminals anymore - he can actually reschedule things without worrying for his - or his loved ones - lives. He's just getting his phone out to send a message when he feels a rush of air at his back and turns his head, raising an eyebrow at the girl behind him, who's looking to be swaying to music - without wearing any kind of earphones. ]
Huh.
[ He follows the noise with a chuckle, even if can barely hear himself over the music blaring in his ears, spewing about not doing what he's told. And maybe the fact that his music is so loud is why... after a second, he pulls out one of his earbuds, with a question on his features. ]
(she's scrolling through something on her phone — a feed of images, some of which she taps at with her fingertips to save for later, while others she just skims past — so she doesn't notice the stranger's appraisal of her single-attendance dance party right away. it takes a moment. more specifically, it takes the cough of the girl behind her in line, a pointed noise intended to draw kimberly's attention away from the world and social media and up into reality, in the hopes that she might notice the large expanse of open space that has so far gone unfilled. it seems neither of them have managed to follow the queue very well.
with a bit of a wry smile, kimberly steps forward, closing in on the man's personal space; when he extends the earbud, she accepts with little hesitation. ) Yeah, okay, ( and she takes it, just like that, between slim fingers that make easy work of nestling the white piece into her ear. the short cord means they're now connected in the queue, two people sharing a small footprint of space in the shop as they wait for their turn to order.
the song is loud, of course, but she's used to that. music blares in gyms, and she's never been one to listen to things quietly when she does put in her own earbuds. better to have the music loud to drown out the sounds of her shoes hitting pavement on a run, or to ignore the sounds of interrupting strangers on her train ride into the city. )
I like this, ( she murmurs; she realizes as soon as she does that he can't possibly hear her over the track. a tug at the connecting cord, and when he pulls his own out again, she repeats, ) I like this. It's good.
[ She repeats herself, probably thinking he can't hear her over the loud bass, but he doesn't need to. Most of the time, he doesn't hear anything, anyway, and that is how he prefers to live his life. Better than the constant ringing that drives him to insanity when he's not listening to anything.
The song switches, from Killing In The Name Of to Guerilla Radio. Baby just smiles, looking at the girl. Man, she's tiny. ]
Yeah? [ He nods. ] Rage Against The Machine. Still not sure that rock has ever got better than it was in the 90's.
[ Sad, that the band fell apart as badly as it did. ]
Are you angry? ( a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth, and kimberly pushes her phone into the back pocket of her jeans; her hands free, there's opportunity to snap along with the beat, swaying to and fro just enough to avoid tugging at the delicate cord of the headphones. ) Long coffee lines getting you down?
( maybe there's more to it than that, but she doesn't know him well enough to know. she only knows that he's pretty cute, and that he has a decent taste in music, and that he's one person in front of her when it comes to her desperate need for a mid-afternoon caffeine boost. )
Most of my angry music goes into kickboxing class. It's kind of fun to pretend you're kicking somebody's ass to the beat, you know?
Frustrated, [ he answers, because it's the truth. ] But it's nothing big.
[ He'll get over it, and most importantly, he doesn't really feel like going into why, with a cute stranger in a coffee shop queue. There must be better ways to spend his time. ]
That's cool. I've never taken kickboxing - not really that graceful. [ When he's not driving. ] Didn't realize you did it to music.
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killertrack) wrote2017-09-01 07:34 pm
what if. an au.
why she chooses athens is a mystery. (trini goes to savannah for graphic design. the two cities aren't that far apart. far from home doesn't have to mean totally alone.)
today, the campus is empty, most of the school gone on the last week of winter break; she's opted to ride the train an hour south into the busier streets of atlanta, where she can wander and shop until her feet give in.
or, at the very least, until she's in desperate need of caffeine. like she is now, standing in line at a coffee shop downtown, listening to the bass pumping from someone else's headphones. she's not sure whose, but at least it makes a good beat. something to dance to while she waits. )
no subject
Might as well cancel altogether. He's not going to make up the time, now, and the good thing about not being indebted to criminals anymore - he can actually reschedule things without worrying for his - or his loved ones - lives. He's just getting his phone out to send a message when he feels a rush of air at his back and turns his head, raising an eyebrow at the girl behind him, who's looking to be swaying to music - without wearing any kind of earphones. ]
Huh.
[ He follows the noise with a chuckle, even if can barely hear himself over the music blaring in his ears, spewing about not doing what he's told. And maybe the fact that his music is so loud is why... after a second, he pulls out one of his earbuds, with a question on his features. ]
Wanna share?
no subject
with a bit of a wry smile, kimberly steps forward, closing in on the man's personal space; when he extends the earbud, she accepts with little hesitation. ) Yeah, okay, ( and she takes it, just like that, between slim fingers that make easy work of nestling the white piece into her ear. the short cord means they're now connected in the queue, two people sharing a small footprint of space in the shop as they wait for their turn to order.
the song is loud, of course, but she's used to that. music blares in gyms, and she's never been one to listen to things quietly when she does put in her own earbuds. better to have the music loud to drown out the sounds of her shoes hitting pavement on a run, or to ignore the sounds of interrupting strangers on her train ride into the city. )
I like this, ( she murmurs; she realizes as soon as she does that he can't possibly hear her over the track. a tug at the connecting cord, and when he pulls his own out again, she repeats, ) I like this. It's good.
no subject
The song switches, from Killing In The Name Of to Guerilla Radio. Baby just smiles, looking at the girl. Man, she's tiny. ]
Yeah? [ He nods. ] Rage Against The Machine. Still not sure that rock has ever got better than it was in the 90's.
[ Sad, that the band fell apart as badly as it did. ]
I definitely recommend when you're feeling angry.
no subject
( maybe there's more to it than that, but she doesn't know him well enough to know. she only knows that he's pretty cute, and that he has a decent taste in music, and that he's one person in front of her when it comes to her desperate need for a mid-afternoon caffeine boost. )
Most of my angry music goes into kickboxing class. It's kind of fun to pretend you're kicking somebody's ass to the beat, you know?
no subject
[ He'll get over it, and most importantly, he doesn't really feel like going into why, with a cute stranger in a coffee shop queue. There must be better ways to spend his time. ]
That's cool. I've never taken kickboxing - not really that graceful. [ When he's not driving. ] Didn't realize you did it to music.