My Oc
The music that came from the bagpipes in front of her made the weight of the bags in her hands seem lighter. A lot lighter that was, even though it wasn't out of the joy she felt when she heard that music. Her scrunched nose and furrowed brows showed the mixture of annoyance and near-disgust that played within her. Did he really have to play the bagpipes? As if being a street performer wasn't pathetic enough.
The logo on her sunglasses matched the one on one of the shopping bags that was held up by a manicured hand. "GUCCI", it said in minimalistic black letters on an ivory background. She'd be able to resell the bag alone for more than her mother made in a week, although she never would give it up. If one couldn't afford the item, one shouldn't pretend to by getting the bags... at least that was her view on that hype.
With a glance similar to the one she'd give a disgusting squished bug, she passed a few strangers and stepped closer to the musician. Her gaze scanned the few coins in the hat that had been placed on the ground. Hesitantly she took her wallet out of her purse and opened it to take out a new looking bill and place it in the hat. What followed was a surprised head tilt from the performer, who bowed to her as if she'd just given him a medal.
"Please don't flatter yourself, just get a decent fucking instrument." She snickered, her tone being as stuck up as her attitude. After those simple words, he was no longer deemed worthy of her attention and she turned away from him.
Taylor
Turnys Bar and Grill stood open, both doors swung wide open and propped with door stops. Round tables crowded along one side while the deep base of a man's voice crooned over the whispers of those drinking. The lights inside had been lowered and the ones on the small stage turned up bright to highlight the male who held a microphone loosely in one hand. The bar had only been open for a little while but some folks had already stopped in for a quick one after they had gotten off work and Taylor used his breaks to sing. The owner let him keep the extra tips from it which really helped and his voice was good enough. The shadows had lengthed slightly outside and at the end of his song, he stepped down from the stage, waving off the requests from a few patrons for him to sing another. "I'm parched, man. I'll get back on there in a few hours. Should stick around or come back then." Taylor said as he went back behind the bar and clocked back in. Later that afternoon, just as evening was beginning, he got a phone call from his neighbor about someone throwing rocks through his windows and asked if the cops could come up to his job, since he couldn't afford the leave yet. The cops agreed and he went outside to meet them, telling the regulars he would sing when he got back inside. Leaning back against the wall, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out and lit one while waiting. His nearly black eyes gazed along the side walks, watching the short interactions between people and humoring himself that he was part of it. He could see the grocery store, but honestly had never paid much mind to it before, unless he needed to buy noodles that is.. It didn't take long for one of the cops to show up and start talking to him.
After the conversation, he went back inside, it had taken most of his break but the manager told him to go ahead and sing anyway. With a nod, he walked over and stood up in stark relief of broken down and worn blue jeans and a simple grey shirt tucked in.
My OC
She was sure that he wouldn't react. He had allowed for her to give him the money and that was that. He wasn't responding after all and why would he? It was not like he would be able to change her mind because she was right. Bagpipes were lame and quite frankly had to be banned from the promenade too. It ruined the entire shopping experience for her and everyone else and she'd make sure to inform some important people and share her observations and annoyances with them.
Truth be told, the city counsil was hardly looking forward to another one of her visits but each and every single member knew her by name and they'd all have trouble saying no to her. Of course she didn't really have a say but her father did, and she'd make his life a living hell if she wouldn't get her way.
Her attention already taken away from the man's performance, she started to make her way back through the crowd and towards the other side of the promenade when all of a sudden, a strong and insisting grip was made on her right arm. It was clearly present even though there was a certain caution to it, as if there was no intention of actually hurting her.
"Unhand me, you filthy cockroach" She hissed, not caring enough to look over her shoulder and see who she was dealing with. The hand remained where it was, persistent but not threatening.
The music that came from the bagpipes in front of her made the weight of the bags in her hands seem lighter. A lot lighter that was, even though it wasn't out of the joy she felt when she heard that music. Her scrunched nose and furrowed brows showed the mixture of annoyance and near-disgust that played within her. Did he really have to play the bagpipes? As if being a street performer wasn't pathetic enough.
The logo on her sunglasses matched the one on one of the shopping bags that was held up by a manicured hand. "GUCCI", it said in minimalistic black letters on an ivory background. She'd be able to resell the bag alone for more than her mother made in a week, although she never would give it up. If one couldn't afford the item, one shouldn't pretend to by getting the bags... at least that was her view on that hype.
With a glance similar to the one she'd give a disgusting squished bug, she passed a few strangers and stepped closer to the musician. Her gaze scanned the few coins in the hat that had been placed on the ground. Hesitantly she took her wallet out of her purse and opened it to take out a new looking bill and place it in the hat. What followed was a surprised head tilt from the performer, who bowed to her as if she'd just given him a medal.
"Please don't flatter yourself, just get a decent fucking instrument." She snickered, her tone being as stuck up as her attitude. After those simple words, he was no longer deemed worthy of her attention and she turned away from him.
Taylor
Turnys Bar and Grill stood open, both doors swung wide open and propped with door stops. Round tables crowded along one side while the deep base of a man's voice crooned over the whispers of those drinking. The lights inside had been lowered and the ones on the small stage turned up bright to highlight the male who held a microphone loosely in one hand. The bar had only been open for a little while but some folks had already stopped in for a quick one after they had gotten off work and Taylor used his breaks to sing. The owner let him keep the extra tips from it which really helped and his voice was good enough. The shadows had lengthed slightly outside and at the end of his song, he stepped down from the stage, waving off the requests from a few patrons for him to sing another. "I'm parched, man. I'll get back on there in a few hours. Should stick around or come back then." Taylor said as he went back behind the bar and clocked back in. Later that afternoon, just as evening was beginning, he got a phone call from his neighbor about someone throwing rocks through his windows and asked if the cops could come up to his job, since he couldn't afford the leave yet. The cops agreed and he went outside to meet them, telling the regulars he would sing when he got back inside. Leaning back against the wall, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out and lit one while waiting. His nearly black eyes gazed along the side walks, watching the short interactions between people and humoring himself that he was part of it. He could see the grocery store, but honestly had never paid much mind to it before, unless he needed to buy noodles that is.. It didn't take long for one of the cops to show up and start talking to him.
After the conversation, he went back inside, it had taken most of his break but the manager told him to go ahead and sing anyway. With a nod, he walked over and stood up in stark relief of broken down and worn blue jeans and a simple grey shirt tucked in.
My OC
She was sure that he wouldn't react. He had allowed for her to give him the money and that was that. He wasn't responding after all and why would he? It was not like he would be able to change her mind because she was right. Bagpipes were lame and quite frankly had to be banned from the promenade too. It ruined the entire shopping experience for her and everyone else and she'd make sure to inform some important people and share her observations and annoyances with them.
Truth be told, the city counsil was hardly looking forward to another one of her visits but each and every single member knew her by name and they'd all have trouble saying no to her. Of course she didn't really have a say but her father did, and she'd make his life a living hell if she wouldn't get her way.
Her attention already taken away from the man's performance, she started to make her way back through the crowd and towards the other side of the promenade when all of a sudden, a strong and insisting grip was made on her right arm. It was clearly present even though there was a certain caution to it, as if there was no intention of actually hurting her.
"Unhand me, you filthy cockroach" She hissed, not caring enough to look over her shoulder and see who she was dealing with. The hand remained where it was, persistent but not threatening.
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