, -- the sound of settling

[sav]

"Please save me!"

Roland tore his eyes away from the print of the latest issue of the New York Times to stare at the skinny girl sliding into the booth across from him.

"Don't you look lovely today?" Noel Banks, Ro's roommate of a solid five months, looked far from lovely. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a bun that Roland had witnessed her fixing up in the bathroom earlier that morning before she rushed out of their apartment with her uniform only buttoned up halfway and apron thrown across her shoulder. The purple bags beneath her pale blue eyes told everyone who stared at them: "I have the worst hangover of my life. Do not fuck with me." And by the way things were running with the morning rush, no one had given her any shit yet.

"You're an asshole. If you hadn't convinced me to go out last night to meet that one loser friend of yours I could have been in bed sleeping for twelve hours instead of drinking 'til my head was practically buried in our toilet." The hostility in the tiny blonde's voice grabbed the attention of the couple sitting in the booth beside them. Both of their heads turned to look at Noel before snapping back to look at their food. They must have seen the bags.

Roland smirked at his roommate before turning his attention back to the story printed across page seven. "I don't recall ever asking you to join me to go meet up with my loser friend, whose name is Dave in case you were wondering. You were the one who insisted that you go with me because you heard that Lindsay Lohan or some other washed up Hollywood star would be at the same place." How she had even come up with that made no sense to Roland whatsoever. An Irish pub was not an A-Lister type of place to be. If that were the case then maybe he wouldn't be eating burnt toast with overcooked scrambled eggs and high pulp orange juice for breakfast.

Noel opened her mouth to continue to be the smartass she was before she slowly closed it back up and slumped against the booth. "I am not in the mood to deal with you."

"You came over here. Did you expect me to take over your shift and send you home? Even if I was nice enough to do that for you, which at this point is debatable, I wouldn't have the time. I've got an audition at noon." Ro explained as he flipped the page of his paper in one swift movement. He could feel Noel's evil glare on him. Boy, did Roland know how to push her buttons or what?

"I'm leaving. Good luck on your audition. I hope on the way there a cab runs you over," Noel climbed her way out of the booth and smoothed out her apron. The couple turned their heads to look again, this time allowing their gaze to linger a little too long. "What?" Roland snickered at the aggression that wreaked her words. As soon as the couple went back to picking at the food on their plate Noel turned to glare at Ro one more time before stalking off to go take another table's order.

"Have a wonderful day, roomie!" He called after her and even from across the restaurant he could hear Noel heave an exasperated sigh.

Ten minutes later Roland finally folded up his paper and set it back down on the surface of the table, reaching for his cell phone for one hand while the other dug for money hidden somewhere within the depths of his jean pockets. He would never hear the end of it if he didn't at least tip Noel something. After fishing out a five dollar bill, the boy hastily slid out of the booth and began walking toward the tiny restaurant's exit. "See you later, honey!" Roland heard one waitress, Estelle, cry from the kitchen as he pushed on the handle of the metal door.

"I'll see you later, Estelle! Keep Noel in check for me while I'm gone, kay?" By the time he finished his sentence he was already outside, back on the somewhat familiar streets of Hollywood. His hand dove for his pocket once again and pulled out a sheet of paper with an address scribbled across it. "Alright," Roland's head began to crane from one side to another as he searched for the street he was supposed to take. You think that after being in the area pretty much every day since he had moved to L.A. that he would be more capable of at least figuring out one street out of the several he could choose from.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Ro cursed under his breath and check the time across the screen of his piece of crap cell phone. Eleven-thirty. Roland's feet got moving then. Fuck it. He would at least attempt to make it on time.

The honking from the horns of taxi cabs echoed in Roland's ears as he weaved his way through crowds of people and ran across streets while in his frantic pursuit of one stupid venue. He thought back to what Noel wished him in the restaurant and laughed to himself. As if that would happen. Taxi cab drivers had to be smarter than that, right? He must have spoken too soon.
"Oh shit!" Roland shouted as one of the yellow cabs made a sharp right turn and quickly inched toward him. Within just enough time his feet dashed him off the charcoal road and hopped onto the sidewalk, but left the cab serving out on the street, abruptly slamming on the breaks before a man climbed out of it.

"What the hell is your problem, man?" He screamed at Roland and began taking steps closer to him.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't even see you coming. Maybe you should be more aware of the people around you the next time you decide to suddenly switch into the turn lane though." Ro retorted and held his hands up coolly, trying to sound as calm as possible.

"Look, asshole! I don't need some prick from the streets telling me how to do my job. Maybe if you weren't such an idiot you would have had the common sense to use a Goddamn crosswalk!" Venom spit at Roland as the cab driver was finally at arm's length, pointing his finger at his chest.

"How about you just get in your cab now, alright? There wasn't any damage done and I'm not going to give you shit for making a poor decision. It's whatever."

"Who do you think you are? Don't you tell me what do to do alright, dick? I don't need any of your lip." The driver drove his finger into Roland's chest this time twice and glared at him with his dark eyes. Out of all the cab driver's in L.A. Ro just had to get this one.

"Hey, let's keep our hands to ourselves now, okay?" Roland said evenly and slowly reached down to put the man's hand back down to his side.

One second his hand just barely grazed the guy's skin and the next the driver's fist hit the side of Ro's head, sending him into the building beside them. "Don't you fucking touch me!" And with that the man came at him full force again, making both of his hands into fist.

Now this was fucking ridiculous.

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this is a completed thread and it's... open to anyone! it's got a long word count, but that's all due to sudden burst of muse. i'm listening to death cab for cutie - transatlanticism 'cause it's awesome. that rpattz graphic up there was made by me. steal it & i won't be to happy with you! ):<

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[devonblakewest]

Devon rested her head against the window of the taxi cab. It wasn't comfortable but she was tired and the day was only starting. Well, for L.A it was. For Devon West it was time for a nice nap in a soft bed back in her apartment. If she ever got home, that is. The traffic in L.A today was congested and she found herself slowly getting irritated that today wasn't going to do her way. Nothing ever went her way. At least she didn't have a hangover this morning. The constant beeping and yelling would have made her head pop off.

After another few minutes of resting her head on the window and waiting, just waiting, for the taxi to move she gave up and threw a few bills at the driver, "Thanks anyway. I'll walk from here." She muttered, stepping out into the traffic. She quickly jogged between the cars till her feet were both safely on the sidewalk and looked around. She'd only been living in L.A for a while and directions were never her strength, "Fantastic." She muttered to herself, pulling her purse tighter to her side and heading down the street, keeping an eye out for anything familiar.

Walking wasn't any better than the taxi ride; people bumped her left and right, only making her temper simmer as she pushed forward. After passing a familiar diner she felt better, knowing she was almost home. Thinking of only her bed and a long nap and a bath somewhere along there she didn't notice the two angry men that were now causing a crowd to circle around them, "Of course!" She called out, nearly slapping her hand to her forehead. This was the last time she was staying a friends house after a long day of work and parties. This was ridiculous.

"Move!" She yelled out, not waiting and shoving her way through. Devon was no heroine and she didn't like to butt into other people's business. But Devon West was tired and wanted a nap. She was willing to do just about anything to get what she wanted right now. She paused when she could finally see the two men and stepped in between them.

"Knock it off!" She called out, holding her arms out to stop them and in turn giving them each a glare, "Get back in your stinkin' cab before my foot goes up your ass!" She snapped at the taxi cab driver. They were all the same, and since his cab was still nearby with its door open, she made the safe assumption that it was his, "Don't you have better shit to do?" She huffed, directing it at both the guys before placing her hands on her hip, waiting for either one of them to break it up before she was satisfied enough to leave.

Devon was in pain now. From her toes to her head. Her feet hurt from spending hours in the flats she wore. The simple dress she had on from the day before wasn't meant for a walk through L.A and her hair was probably just as messed up as her makeup.

Upon waking up this morning, she'd brushed her hair but didn't bother to do much else. And rinsed her face, but she was hoping to be home within the next hour or two to finish her grooming. She felt like shit and her mood was dwindling down. These men were lucky she didn't shove them both into the traffic.

this fails!

[sav]

Just when Roland was expecting another punch straight to the jaw a high, demanding voice put all the noise from them and the group of people crowded around them to silence. "Knock it off!"

The girl who stood at what Ro would guess five foot five had long ebony curls falling over her shoulders and make-up smudged around her pastel eyes. Now this was a girl that Noel could possibly get along with if they were to ever meet. They could share stories about their several Hollywood encounters before drinking themselves to sleep. The life of struggling actors was so glamorous.

"Hey, how about you go back to your corner, alright? This ain't none of your business!" There was always a line and this man had just crossed it.

Once the cab driver's attention went from the girl back to him Roland made contact with his nose with his fist, sending the driver flat onto the concrete. The man groaned in pain as his hands went to his nose, covering it so it was out of everyone's sight. Roland could see the blood running down his face though and knew he had broken it. The boy slowly kneeled beside him, his arms propped out on his elbows to show the man that he wasn't going to strike again. "We're done here," He spoke softly as the crowd around them slowly began to disperse. Roland checked out the damage he had done on the cab driver and nodded to himself. Usually he wasn't for fighting, but when you attack someone who was only trying to stop the situation, especially when that someone was a lady, that didn't fly with him. He stood up straight again and regained his composure, scanning the area around him. Things were pretty much back to normal and the only people that bothered to look at the driver now were the ones who stepped over him. "I suggest you go get your nose checked out, buddy. That was a nasty fall."

The boy's emerald eyes landed on the girl's once he spun around. "Are you alright?" Roland asked as he moved toward her, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. The look across her face was one that he couldn't exactly decipher. How were you supposed to react when someone practically calls you a hooker? Ro began to wonder what kind of hookers this guy had been seeing. Certainly by the dress hugging the curves of her body you could tell she was not a prostitute. This girl did have some class and dignity, which was why Roland decked the guy in the first place. That was why he was sticking around now.

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this is a completed thread and it's... not open! it's got a short word count, but i promise it'll get better! i'm listening to death cab for cutie - stable song 'cause it's awesome. that rpattz graphic up there was made by me. steal it & i won't be to happy with you! ):<

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[devonblakewest]

Devon's temper flared at the taxi drivers comment. She knew she looked bad, but not that bad. Today was, sadly, one of her better days. She turned toward the driver, ready to slap him when someone flew past her and punched the driver in the face. Devon didn't get a thrill from fights, she saw no reason for them. But when she realized it was the other guy who punched the driver, she felt herself smile a bit. Wouldn't it be a girl's dream to have some guy, a slightly cute guy, defending her without being asked? Just the small knowledge of knowing she was safe around someone was nice. She knew Jack would defend her, hands down, no question asked, when it came down to it. Which is why she trusted Jack with her life even though they never really talked about it. Lucky for him, they just clicked right off and had no awkward moments. Unless Devon made them for pure entertainment.

She watched as blood covered the drivers face and hands. She stood with her hands on her hips, feeling nothing for the driver as he got up and the people started to disperse. Blood was shed and no one wanted to stick around for that. She turned her attention back to Ro when he directed a question at her and just shrugged, "My morning could be so much better

[/b]." She muttered, feeling suddenly self conscious now and just wanting to get home to take a long shower and look somewhat decent. And a nap. She was starting to think that a nap wasn't going to fit into her day. Because promptly after noon or one she was supposed to start working on the costumes for another upcoming movie. Sketches sounded easy to other people, but Devon knew that detail was everything, but details weren't put into sketches. They were worked out when the costume was actually being made. Which, again, Devon was in charge of. And she had her own line that was starting, and she had to think of ways to work that into the movies so that people would start to recognize her name and line. Yes, the glamorous life of struggling actors. Or crew members.

"Thanks for that heroic move[/b]." She added after a moment of fiddling with her outfit. Then she held out her hand, "I'm Devon West." Announcing her full name was now a habit. When hanging out with Jack, people heard Devon and wondered if they knew her so to clarify they didn't, she said her last name. Usually people clicked her name to Jack, but that wasn't about all the recognition she ever got. She didn't have a huge problem with it. Because she knew that if or when she got famous enough for her name to be flashed on magazines, it meant her parents would find her. She'd run away from home by the time she was barely eighteen and hadn't spoken to them since. It'd been years and she still felt the spark of anger and disappointment in her parents. Its not that they were bad people, they just... sucked. If people were to ever meet her parents, she prayed that would be never, they probably wouldn't believe that Devon was their daughter. Not that her mother would announce that proudly. They'd had a falling out from the moment she was born. Sometimes Devon wondered what it would be like if her older brother had been born. But that was rarely and only when she was too alert to fall asleep. Hollywood sucked the energy out of her though. Maybe she'd die young and not have to worry about ever seeing her parents again.
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