quote the raven ; what a bore!

[preston grey harris]

YOU CAUGHT ME IN THE MIDDLE DAZED AND CONFUSED
i was following the good steps fancy free and footlose and something aint quite right but if you get them on your side then we'll have a good time

[/b][/color]
I GET ALONG SINGING MY SONG, PEOPLE TELL ME I'M WRONG;
f u c k ' e m[/font][/center]

'All you little suckers, come off its.' Pete mumbled, rolling a third joint to smoke. The other two hanging out of his mouth like a walrus. He was totally wasted out of his mind, face red, eyes so loopy, what a sight for a guy who's just got here. Preston would rather let the night drag on and on til finally it's somehow morning and there's unflushed vomit in the bathroom. Okay, that wasn't EXACTLY how he enjoyed spending his wild rockstar lifestyle evenings but it was more or less his usual blueprint of whenever he ventured out to clubs. He did alot. Perhaps not as excessive as Pete there... The third joint fell out of his mouth, he jumped and grabbed it after it rolled to the floor. 'Yeoch, I almost lit my pants on fire haha!' Pres grinned, wondering if he was finding this funny with him or at him.

The music was blaring yet somehow it has dulled into background music. The partying crowds, jumping and constantly moving were like insects crawling on the walls. The flashing lights sometimes hit you in the eye, but anyone with a drink in them do not mind. Pres and his friends mainly claimed the territory of the couch in the western side of the bar. Riot In Me groupies hung around acting generally skanky. He usually ignored them, especially when Lucy was around. She acted all the more assertive when they were around, practically pulling his face away to share a kiss. Damn, he loved Lucy more than any other girl he's been with. He felt he could read her well but lately she's been rather distant. She didn't even want to come around tonight. She was usually more social than he was. When he tried to mention his slight annoyance to Pete on the ride over, he farted and said that ativia yogurt is dangerous business.

"I need another drink!" he said, taking an offered joint which was freshly rolled by Pete. He swiftly got to his feet, someone immediately taking his spot. Making his way through the crowds like a pro, he realized how definitely needed another drink. This was going to be a long fun night. He could imagine something exciting happening then returning back to the tour bus with an awesome story to tell Lucy to make her feel guilty for not coming. He leaned against the bar counter. "A smirnoff." he requested setting a bill on the counter. 'Old fashion shirly temple' said the bartender, setting a drink down besides him then taking Pres' offered bill. A lopsided smirk spread on his face. "What fag's drinking that? It's nonalcoholic." he said loudly. Why go to a bar and not indulge in the alcohol. After all, that's all a bar is. A cesspool for drunks! He looked to who the owner of the drink could be.

TAGGED?! shaaaaane!
COUNT?! 478 words
COMMENTARY?! shammywowpow! no godmodding intended, just sort of getting to the thread point xP if it bothers you let me know, i'll be more than happy to rewrite/edit!

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[shane traeger bailey]

Caught up in the moment

But not in the right way

Clubbing was never Shane's thing. In fact the ideal night was definitely just hanging with some friends either watching a movie or having a little jam session. But here he was anyway, dragged out to Illinois's premiere night club. Sometimes he wished he wasn't such a pushover, but it was just his nature. So after about a minute of putting up a fight, his friends got him to tag along. Once they entered the smokey atmosphere of the club Shane knew he didn't belong. Sure he had been to his fair share of clubs and knew what to expect but something about tonight was different. Maybe it was the way that the few people who had accompanied him automatically made their way to the dance floor leaving him all alone or the fact that a particular group in the back of the club was particularly rowdy tonight.

Shane took a glance around the entire club before settling down at the bar, the best bet for a simple conversation. Everyone seemed to be having a good time and he wasn't one to be a buzz kill. Shirley temple please. He said when the bartender finally came over. It was a pretty queer drink, no doubt about it, but Shane knew nobody was paying particular attention to him. He turned to the dance floor and watched, only half interested. It was getting pretty late and things on the floor were getting pretty crazy. But instead of watching the girl on girl make outs or the dry humping, Shane zoned out, scenes of the day's show skimming through his thoughts. He couldn't help but think of his new guitar, sitting at home all alone. Maybe his friends wouldn't notice if he just skipped out, after all both were currently occupied by a member of the opposite sex. It was a very tempting plan, but if by any chance they wanted to find Shane later on he would feel way too guilty for leaving them. old fashion shirley temple. The bartender slid the drink down to him, his face perfectly stoic even though he must have been laughing on the inside. Thanks. Shane said in a genuine tone, placing a couple crinkled dollar bills on the counter before turning around to prop his elbows on the counter and sip the delicious cherry and sprite combination. What fag's drinking that? It's nonalcoholic. It was clearly a male voice coming from Shane's left. Any idiot knew whoever spoke was extremely intoxicated so Shane knew to keep his temper. He wasn't one to fly off the handle but rudeness was never tolerated and he wasn't afraid to use his fists if necessary. Shane cleared his throat a little and just turned to see who it was. Of course it would be someone from Riot In Me, typical drunkards. He had never actually met this fellow but he knew he recognized him from the band. This one was going to slide, this guy reeked of pot and booze, getting in a tussle wasn't worth it.

lyrics; poppin' champagne by all time low
outfit; here
word count; 507
notes; nah it's all good. im diggin the drink choice. god modding is necessary in these types of situations.

[preston grey harris]

YOU CAUGHT ME IN THE MIDDLE DAZED AND CONFUSED
i was following the good steps fancy free and footlose and something aint quite right but if you get them on your side then we'll have a good time

[/b][/color]
I GET ALONG SINGING MY SONG, PEOPLE TELL ME I'M WRONG;
f u c k ' e m[/font][/center]

Preston stared at the guy who seemed to be deaf. "Hey asshole, I'm talking to you!" he said, all the more loudly so that maybe more than this queer would hear him. The bartender set his drink in front of Preston, perhaps in a more quick fashion so that Pres may walk away now and not make a scene. In a regular prep's words; as if! A sly smirk came across him after he took a few sips of his drink. My, he loved that great taste of a cold drink in a building that felt more like the inside of a giant drumset rather than a club. He loved it. What a way to be the music? What a way to just live a little, the tour buses would get so cramped and drab, bars always had a way of lifting Preston's spirits.

So he had a choice didn't he? Give into his childish mischief concerning strangers who generally deserve trouble- as anyone does right? -and possibly get in a little bitty bit in trouble. Or he could return to his friends who were more like fools and listen to them babble on and on about Joy Division, Billy Joel, and Ray Charles. (Somehow they always managed to come up in coversation together.) Or which Beatle did the most drugs out of the band? What unsolveable mysteries that Pres could happily miss some of. . . What was he thinking? This guy wasn't going to give him any crap. He was a full blown gay, just look at the way he's dressed and come on, who drinks shirley temples here?

Ha, Preston bet anything that he wasn't a member of any band, but say, a hair stylist. Why were guys dressing themselves up like they do? You had to earn that right, Bowie, Elvis, they all understood that. All Preston was wearing some old tshirt, a very old pair of tennis shoes, and jeans, it was all he felt he could afford anyways. Though, admittedly, Preston did like his snazzy hats Lucy was always buying for him. His tattoos were exposed, and he was always excited to wear them out with pride. Okay, to be fair, he wasn't that dressed up. But the vibe was definitely there. Pres was practically a living, walking gay-dar. It was amusing Preston to no end in his head. Must be the drink and pot.

"Whatever man. Forget it. Take care." he said, as if giving up on his tough guy act and making the peace sign. Oh, Lucy would either think of what he was about to do with delight, after all who doesn't like a laugh? She enjoyed it when Pres made scenes usually. Or she may not approve, scream at him in telling him so. Girls are so confusing. Well, we'll never know. She wasn't here, now was she? Reaching into his pockets, he took out a very small power pack of GHB that Pete handed to him for some sleep. It was only dangerous when mixed with alcohol, he wouldn't need to worry! When the guy was looking away, in some sort of distraction, Pres slipped it in then returned to his friends. Sipping his drink, half heartedly listening to their conversation as he tried watching Shane.

TAGGED?! shaaaaane!
COUNT?! 546 words
COMMENTARY?! well good! =] and i just went right on ahead with the fun. haha.

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[shane traeger bailey]

Caught up in the moment

But not in the right way

Shane didn't have a bad temper, he wasn't one to just fly off the handle. But arrogant and rude band douches do not go over well in his book. So while the guy a couple seats down from him made a couple of asshole comments on Shane's preferred drink choice, he continued to ignore him. He knew it was the best way to handle the situation. When actually confronted with a band douche Shane's temper might just slip away. While he didn't like to get into fights, he knew that they were the only solution at times.

Something about the guy made him think he was just looking for a fight, maybe it was his duty to just kick his ass to get it over with. A long drawn out night of putting up with comments on his sexuality was not what Shane had in mind. Every once in a while he would check the dance floor and be reminded that his friends had found someone to have fun with while he got to sit alone at a bar and get harassed. Just what he imagined his Friday night turning out to be.

While taking a look out into the crowds of people a flash of movement caught his eye and when he looked back the guy was gone. What had the asshole done now? Probably slipped something in his drink, Shane thought to himself jokingly and took a swig of the cherry goodness. It tasted different then his last sip, not very noticeably but it was still there. So the fuckbag had done something.

And his patience and self control was gone, out the window, bye-fuckin-bye. What the fuck. Shane said allowed to himself. He stood from the bar and marched straight back to where he knew the bands hung out. Of course he was sitting back there in the room reeking of pot and alcohol. What the fuck did you put in my drink? Shane yelled above the noise of the club. If it was a fight the guy had been looking for, he certainly got it. No way was he walking away scott-free now. He would be more then willing to step outside the club and do an old fashion fist fight, it had been a long time since Shane's last one anyway.

lyrics; poppin' champagne by all time low
outfit; here
word count; 386
notes; sorry, i have no muse. when the fight begins itll come back to me.

[preston grey harris]

YOU CAUGHT ME IN THE MIDDLE DAZED AND CONFUSED
i was following the good steps fancy free and footlose and something aint quite right but if you get them on your side then we'll have a good time

[/b][/color]
I GET ALONG SINGING MY SONG, PEOPLE TELL ME I'M WRONG;
f u c k ' e m[/font][/center]

"Do you recognize that guy over there? The doofus with the faggy drink?" Preston asked Peter as he watched with quiet glee to what would happen if the guy actually drank the entire glass. 'Hm... Isn't that the straight edge guy from Hollywood Whores. What's he drinking?' Of course! That's who it was! Why didn't he realize it sooner! "Oh-ho!" he laughed through a puff of his joint. This was too good! Preston was even more pleased with himself by his actions, no matter how immature they may have been. People looked over at him, picking up on Preston's excitement. They knew Preston well enough to see that something may happen soon. It seemed only a second, Pres glanced at his cell phone hoping that Lucy may have texted him to say she was coming after all- and Preston generally hated the texting thing. He really didn't want her to miss this. But his inbox was as empty as he last check. He looked back up, about to take a sip when he saw that ...what's his face... Shane!... charging on towards him! Oh boi! He straightened up and slid closer to the edge of the couch as Shane walked over to his crowd. Handing the drink aside to Petey, he watched Shane coming over patiently. His trademark grin was plastered on his face, staring back at Shane's furious face just for the purpose to piss him off even more.

A joint was hanging loosely in between his lips. He took it inbetween his fingers to speak in a nearly bored tone. "What's wrong bud? Someone spiked your drink did they?" he played indifferent and shrugged. His friends snickered which actually made Preston annoyed. Was this high school again? Damn, he'd happily give up the chance to relive that experience. He gave them looks but only briefly then stood up to face Shane. He was still grinning, knowing he was giving himself away. He took a drag of his joint and blew the smoke at his face like in the movies. "It was just a little something to loosen you up a bit. What's a guy drinking a shirley temple going to do about it?"He made a toothy smile. Too bad the guy figured it out, it would've been fun to watch him enjoying himself and see the club as a young Keith Richards would. Now it looked like he was going to get a romp around a club for taking the liberty to try to get someone to have some fun and make a fool out of himself. He could feel a reclusive excitement tensing inside him, ready for a fight or ready to taunt him into it. He's got a drink in, a few joints, he was feeling gloriously lucid and waring to remind people why he has his reputation. Another quick drag, glancing around at the dance floors then back at his victim. "I've got a question for you. Why this club? Isn't there one across the street, one that'd you'd fit in with better? Maybe there you'd be okay with being drugged." he laughed.

TAGGED?! shane!
COUNT?! 538 words
COMMENTARY?! no worries!! and my post is crappish too. lol, preston's a jack ass sorry XD

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[shane traeger bailey]

Caught up in the moment

But not in the right way

Was this really happening? Shane questioned himself. He never flew off the handle like this. Usually he was so much more patient and witty about things. This was way different though. This jackass couldn't and shouldn't get away with slipping things in people's drinks. Shane was almost glad it had been him instead of someone who would have kept on drinking.

As he made his way over to Preston he noticed the sly look on his face and the way he found entertainment in pissing Shane off. This only made his blood boil more. Willing all of his self control to contain his desire to kick this kid's ass, Shane planted himself in front of him and let Preston speak. What an arrogant ass, Shane thought to himself. The condescending tone he was speaking in did not fly. Did this guy assume Shane was automatically a pussy for being able to say no to drugs and alcohol instead of succumbing to the peer pressure just like every other mindless fuck? He was going to have to teach this guy a lesson if he was going to keep treating people this way.

When the smoke blew into Shane's face he took it like a man, despite wanting to cough his lungs out at the disgusting smell and taste. Preston was taunting him, daring him to do something out of character. It was working, unfortunately. You think you can go around treating people this way for your entertainment? A guy drinking a shirley temple is going to kick your ass. Shane couldn't believe the things coming out of his mouth, but they were coming out and there was nothing he could do about it. The guy just openly called him a fag, the club across the street was for homos. That was just out of line.

He didn't want to get kicked out of the club, so if a fight was what the guy wanted they would have to take it outside. That was fine with him. Shane just wanted to rough him up a bit, show him just how far Preston's head was up his own ass.

lyrics; poppin' champagne by all time low
outfit; here
word count; 356
notes; haha i like his ass-y-ness.

[preston grey harris]

YOU CAUGHT ME IN THE MIDDLE DAZED AND CONFUSED
i was following the good steps fancy free and footlose and something aint quite right but if you get them on your side then we'll have a good time

[/b][/color]
I GET ALONG SINGING MY SONG, PEOPLE TELL ME I'M WRONG;
f u c k ' e m[/font][/center]

Bam!! Preston said all that and was always ready to continue on. It was just like most people said; 'You're the hemorroids of life. You know why? You're a pain in the ass!' A very smug grin stayed planted on his face with no intentions of dropping or being wiped off as many people would threaten. Invincible he was and he could turn anyone into a punching bag- except that guy over there with the funky hat or perhaps Pete when he wasn't high enough and in a sour mood. And definitely not Lucy with a language as colorful as his. [he meant luciana in a way of verbal punching bag, he'd never hit her!] Nah, Lucy could always put him into his place, which was why he was always thinking about her and wondering where the hell she was, when he in his paranoia, was avoiding him! Even here and now, a little drunk, stoned, and stupidly asking for a fag to try to put on his big boy pants and try to punch him without opting for the low blow- you know, fight like a man!- he was thinking about what she'd say, or do, smoke or drink- or what choice swearwords she'd pick as she pretended to panic and beg him not to cause a fight.

People are so easy to taunt! It was too perfect with this guy. Sure, he couldn't really see it in his eyes in a literal sense but he could feel it in his bones that he was getting in his head. He felt like a dog caged, ready to be set loose as soon as the motion came forward with a bang. And you hear the hint in Shane's tone? Very obvious. Poor guy, he'd later feel pity for the guy. Afterall the most easily taunted are the ones with the issues. Preston was lucky, he had his issues but as far as anyone knew, they were only drugs and his attitude. He wasn't going to lie about that and he felt no shame, so he can easily shrug anything off and say 'so what? Fuck you.' His insecurities were so secret in his spine and would always be eating him away in the quiet of sleepless nights. He laughed at Shane's stupid face. "Yeah, yeah sure. He can try!"

Shane wasn't doing anything though. Which was pissing Preston off because he hated waiting for what everyone KNEW was coming. So, with a silly up and down shake of his brows, he picked up one of his friend's very alcoholic drink and, you guessed it, splashed it into Shane's face and too-pretty-for-a-guy's hair. "You looked thirsty." he explained with a laugh in a slight pose that almost seemed to say 'Ta-da!!'. Oh, let the games begin.

TAGGED?! shane!
COUNT?! words
COMMENTARY?! i do too xD i like how shane wants to be more like a gentleman and fight outside. haha.
and all this is written while i'm listening to hippies singing about peace and love.
ooo, random plot idea that you can say no to! what if they get arrested for making such a scene and in the jail cell they talk, sort of become friends through it? lol, i think it'd be pretty funny.

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[shane traeger bailey]

Caught up in the moment

But not in the right way

Shane very well knew that Preston was winning this battle. He was creeping inside his head and pulling at every string that kept him composed and calm. But though Preston was winning this battle, Shane was determined to win the war no matter what it took. Forcing down all the rising feelings of anger and frustration Shane stood before Preston and tried to get his point across. It was useless, anyone could tell. This guy was far too high and drunk out of his mind to give a flying fuck what Shane was saying. If it hadn't been for this guy's impairment he probably would have punched him by now, but the fight was a little lopsided, favoring Shane, the only one who could actually see straight. Though despite his moral issues, he did believe in giving people what they wanted. These thoughts buzzed through his head as he noticed people starting to watch them, after all they were making a bit of a commotion. Heads turned and Shane began to ball his hands into fists to further control himself.

Preston laughed aloud to Shane's determined and completely serious face, what an asshole. If anything Shane would have to kick his ass to prevent him for treating any one else like this. When the drink splashed into his face, soaking his head, hair, and shoulders with the sticky alcohol Shane knew that was the final straw. After minutes of debating with himself he had decided. Preston had pulled at every strand now and Shane was falling apart. Taking his fist, which was still balled from anger, he landed one right beneath Preston's eye. It was forceful, all the anger that had been building up in Shane was channeled into the blow. The shock of the bone of bone collision sent a shooting pain up Shane's arm. He immediately retracted it upon impact and held his left hand, his dominant hand and the one he used to punch, in the manliest way he could cradle it. A blow like that was sure to send any man backwards, especially one who's balance was already affected.

In mid punch Shane had noticed how those who watched eyes' opened wide in amazement that such a pretty boy could actually start the fight. It almost gave him a sense of accomplishment. So despite his aching knuckles, a smile broke out on his face, finally relieved of all the pressure that had built up on him during the debate on whether to kick Preston's ass or not.

lyrics; poppin' champagne by all time low
outfit; here
word count; 421
notes; hehe love this <3. ooh i LOVE your idea, i think it's grand. do you want shane to be all sour and like 'no, i dont wanna be friends' and then he cracks? or do you want shane to be the one who wants to be friends?

[preston grey harris]

YOU CAUGHT ME IN THE MIDDLE DAZED AND CONFUSED
i was following the good steps fancy free and footlose and something aint quite right but if you get them on your side then we'll have a good time

[/b][/color]
I GET ALONG SINGING MY SONG, PEOPLE TELL ME I'M WRONG;
f u c k ' e m[/font][/center]

The drink was dripping on him, nice and liquidy and velvetlike... Oh mercy, he was a little more high than he thought. Never the less, his head tilted slightly as his mouth made a dopey smile as he watched his majestic work. He was almost jealous, tempted to pour a drink on himself. It was reminding him about a song, about titanic and the icey cold water freezing their lungs turning to vodka. What a song. Oh yes indeed, no one would hold back after having their face splashed with a spitty drink. Not even a monk or... an anger management therapist. And just when Preston thought Shane was truly a pussy, truly someone better than the rest, a monk, an anger management therapist, that Preston has obviously wasted his best efforts, Shane folded to his will. Wham-o, Preston felt knuckled slamming into his cheeks with a force he'd never expected from such a wimp. Being a little wasted, naturally Preston's tall yet thin body fell back, on the small table and back to the couch, sort of. He landed on the ground, sort of. It didn't matter, he never really kept track of where he landed in the wild night outs like these anyhow. All that mattered was that, he ignored the fucking pain, become once again invincible, and beat the son of a bitch to a pulp.

In no rush, he got to his feet while trying to make sure he kept his balance in his dizzying vision. He didn't take notice of the people watching. As long as they were watching right? Affirmative. Even with an injury, he liked his attention. Hot damn, his face was stinging! Shit, he should've had some horse before coming here. He was such a lazy ass.... A look at Shane, in this tilting spinnin' building, he was fucking smiling. The douchebag ... well, look at him! Smiling and standing proud! What was he doing? Waiting for people to take pictures of him acting mannish, as if it was such a rare bright moment for him. Well, way to go. You punched a drunk down for spilling his spitty drink on him. Yeah, whatever. The fag was getting it. Before giving another moment to suspence or him to smirk, he lunged at Shane. He'd take him down to the hard ground, let him feel it rough as he wasn't so drunk and numb.

He had him on the ground, but how clumsy he was. He barely had no idea what he was doing, he threw a punch at Shane's chin but felt himself falling out of the pinning. And people were freaking out and screaming out. Preston was blinded and deafened from them. His focus was on Shane. This was a game, this was war, this was... business? Yeah, whatever. It was just him giving himself reasons to go to confession this weekend. One question, has he prayed enough hail mary's this week? Because his face was hurting, even now but not that bad. He was drunk! Could this possibly mean that Shane had a bad ass streak in him that Preston had underestimated and should fear where this could go? Ha! Gotta love the milliseconds of uncalled doubt.

TAGGED?! shane!
COUNT?! 536 words
COMMENTARY?! yayyayayay!! both? he's like 'i hate this guy but maybe i should give him a chance?' so yeah. i can imagine preston will be like mean but nice? XD like cocky/strange/hung over 'what, you're too good for me? you asshole! you should be my friend'

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