IT'S JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS , chris

[chelsea]

tagged for Chris Hughes! set in the late afternoon on a Wednesday, just outside of LA. :D AF561B

---

Chelsea had been really busy for most of the morning. In fact she had been busy for the past two days, redecorating. It had pissed her off, because it was one room and it wasn't even big! She had turned her spare bedroom from boring and bland into a nice and bright guest bedroom. She had rigged up all the boxes that the new furniture had come in to the back of her motorcycle and had taken a trip to give them to a friend, since they were moving house. Once done there, she was taking the ride back to her area, to pick up something for dinner so she could get home and have something to eat, take a nice long hot bath and chill the fuck out watching Law Abiding Citizen with a bottle of beer, or two.

Sat on the Harley-Davidson that she adored, with her half-helmet clipped around her chin and a skull-design bandana covering the bottom half of her face while a pair of aviator sunglasses covered the top half. Not to look like an outlaw, not to look cool or intimidating. It was to keep things from flying into her eyes and mouth because nothing was as annoying as dust, dirt, wind, rain, hair or bugs getting in your face. Though she did pick this particular skull bandana because it was pretty much a skull face mask that generally looked badass and suited her well. It either impressed or scared little kids, both of which she found to be really amusing.

She wore a pair of jeans, with a greyish Affliction tee shirt that had a black distressed design, with an emblem on the front shoulder and then a black set of wings printed on the back. She wore the leather jacket she always did whenever she took her bike out, because it was reinforced in places such as the elbows, the shoulders and her upper back and there was other protective padding that was removable if she didn't need the bulk. As she didn't ride a sports bike, she tended to wear the minimum amount of protective clothing. For her, it was more about comfort than style. She didn't feel like she needed it, not on the type of bike she had.

She'd hate to have to wear a whole suit with a full helmet and some big bulky boots, not to mention she'd look (or at least she'd think she would look) fucking ridiculous. Thankfully, she had always preferred the cruiser bikes and more classic machines. They were just so beautiful, much better than some crotch rocket. And on her sleek black beauty, Chelsea manoeuvred through the busy streets, making her way home to the apartment she had which was just outside of the City of Angels - Los Angeles.

[misfit]

[/size][/ul]

[chelsea]

You know when you wake up sometimes, and you just think "today, is just not going to be my day"? I do believe, it was one of those days for Chelsea. As a confident and experienced rider, she never really anticipated getting into accidents. She had in the past, but they were always minor. Usually it would be people forgetting to indicate or coming out around a corner without checking for oncoming traffic. And if it was enough to make her lose her balance she would usually get right back up and give the driver a lot of lip. I wouldn't call it full blown road-rage unless they gave her attitude but she could get so pissed at people in cars. Or cages, as her dad called them. There was nothing out of the ordinary on the road, she would have never expected it to happen. She was just routinely cruising down the road, she didn't even see the Camaro coming up behind her.

But when she did, it was too late. When she looked in her mirror, it was just seconds before the front of the car clipped the back of her motorcycle. And from then on, she was in fate's hands. Chelsea tried her best, thinking of any other time she had had a near-accident and did a wobbly ride along the road but managed to stay upright and could carry on. She tried her best but it was the back of the bike that was skidding out of control and then she lost control completely. She could barely keep a hold of the Harley, the back began to swing around in the middle of the road as if wanting to take the lead. And she was on her side and she decided to let go. It was better to just let go and get out of the damn way rather than hold on and potentially be crushed by your own bike, the machine weighed a hell of a lot more than Chelsea did. She was more worried about sliding into traffic, even the Camaro that had bumped her.

She had never been much of a religious person. But at this moment, everything seemed to go quiet and she just prayed that she'd make it out alive. She heard the horrible scream and screeching of her bike as it skidded across the tarmac. Oh god, her poor baby. Her head smacked into the ground but she just closed her eyes and tried to focus on getting to safety. However the impact had winded her momentarily and she took a sharp intake of air as if someone had just sucked away all the oxygen around her. She came to a halt, slumped on her side and in pain in various spots.

It was typical of Chelsea, amidst her own agony, to be thinking of her bike and it's state. If you knew Chelsea, you knew how much that motorcycle meant to her. It was almost bordering the point where the girl was going to give it a name. Chelsea and her brother Callum were both given the choice on their eighteenth birthdays by their father Harrison: receive a car or receive a motorcycle. And both of them picked the latter. She tried to breath, her heart was pounding so fast that she could feel it in more places than her chest but also in her ears and in her finger tips. It hurt to breath and she cursed to herself, hoping that she hadn't broken a rib or done anything worse. And then everything went dark and quiet. She passed out for roughly seconds over a minute. But as she opened her eyes she was on her back, she could feel her arms and hands shaking. She felt like she was buzzing, it was probably from adrenaline and shock.

Her head hurt so much. A half-helmet offered you the minimum in protection. She felt her cheek was warm and tingly, she reached up to touch it, feeling that it was grazed. She brushed the stones from it and closed her eyes. The sunlight was uncomfortable. "Motherfucking...fuck." she said, breathing deep and winding. Shit. She was going to be really pissed if she had concussion. You know what? She was just going to be really pissed in general. She didn't want to sit up, mostly because she ached all over and wherever she was in pain, it literally felt like it was throbbing. But also because she didn't want to see the state of her bike. She heard a few cars coming to a stop around her, presumably to help her out. But as stubborn as ever, she was already trying to sit up by herself.

---

I thought it was good! But I understand having to get comfortable with a premade. <3

[misfit]

[/color] he told her, his voice calm and even. It held more confidence than he felt right now and he wondered how he was remaining so serene about all of this.

However he was doing so, he was damned glad for it. Removing his glasses, he tucked them into his jacket pocket and looked into her eyes. "I'm really sorry about this." he said, feeling awful that someone was hurt because of him. His mind began roaring with different thoughts. Yes, he would pay for this. He would fix her bike and everything, she wouldn't even have to ask him to. Christopher was good for it. Another thought hit him, thank God Alfie hadn't been in the car with him. His seven year old son didn't need to be in a situation like this at such a young age. He didn't need the scare. Chris dropped to sitting position next to her in order to make sure she didn't try to get up again since he had removed his hand from her shoulder. He felt downright awful.

"I'll make it up to you." he muttered, hoping that if he kept talking, whatever injuries she had sustained to the head wouldn't sweep over her and cause her to black out. Christopher, of course, didn't know what would happen but he was determined to make it right.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/ul]

[chelsea]

She found his words reassuring and found it terribly nice of him to come to her side and say such a thing. But she still swatted his hand away, being a typical PMSy bitch. "You're sorry?" she scoffed, leaning on her side while running her hand over the side of her thigh. She had scraped across the tarmac so much that it had ripped her jeans and her skin. Not a deep wound, just a minor gash. It had been the leg she had gotten trapped beneath her bike when it and herself went on the side. "You're sorry." she said again, as if the very words aggravated her (which they didn't). She unclipped her helmet and tossing it to the side. "Are you fucking blind or something? Jesus Christ." she said, her words dripping with annoyance, and angst.

Chelsea really didn't mean to sound like or come across as a bitch. She just couldn't control her emotions right now and the first one that almost always brimmed to the surface in this one, was her temper. She had always been a hot-headed girl and her natural instinct was to bite now and bark later! Maybe she was just getting all mad at him because if she didn't, she would start to cry. She was upset about her bike, she was in pain and she was annoyed. She just wanted to be a typical girl and burst into tears. Which was so unlike Chelsea. She wasn't one of those girls who never cried. I mean shit, Chels would burst into tears every time Mufasa died in Disney's The Lion King. But when it came to having a rough tumble, she was generally brave. Maybe this was more than your average 'tumble' considering she'd just been knocked off a motorcycle. Maybe she had every right to cry. But she was being stubborn and she just wanted to yell at someone. Why not yell at him?

She shook her head. At this entire situation and how ridiculous it was. She was literally just planning to go home and chill out. And now she was going to have to go to hospital and be stitched, poked and prodded, scanned and x-rayed and all this other bullshit. She didn't feel good at all, so she wouldn't be a total idiot and say she didn't need the hospital. She felt how hard she hit her head and how much her torso hurt. And right now, she was starting to feel nauseous. Great, the last thing she needed was to puking up her guts all over the fucking road. Shit, Chelsea just realised she was still in the middle of the road. She looked helplessly over at her Harley-Davidson. It looked alright until you looked across the road at the bits that had come of it were now scattered across the tarmac and she was sure that when it was stood up and not on it's side, it would be covered in scratch marks. Chelsea sighed heavily and put her hand to her ribs and hunched her body as if about to curl into a ball.

He spoke again and she looked up at him, cupping her hand over her eyes so shield her gaze from the sun. He'd make everything up to her? She was actually taken back by that. I mean, it was amazing he hadn't sped off and done a hit-and-run. And then, as she looked at his face, she realised that she was recognised him. And why did she recognise him? Because he was a really rather famous fucking actor. "Shit. Are you fucking kidding me?" she said to herself and whined. "Please tell me you that you just look like Chris Hughes and you're not actually him? Please?" she said, but she actually said it in a light-hearted voice and softly chuckled a little bit. But then stopped because it hurt. "Great. That's just great." she added. She sure hoped that media didn't get wind of this because that was the last thing she wanted or needed. Pain or no pain, anyone trying to bother her or sticking a camera in her face about this, was getting a punch.

"ACTOR KNOCKS WOMAN OFF MOTORBIKE" as a headline, people trying to get her story or her picture, trying to find out what her status was and if this was going to turn juicy because she had lost an arm or was dead or something. "I'm fine, really." she said, though as she said it she was swaying where she sat because she felt nauseous and dizzy. Oh yay, concussion! "I just...need to get out of the road, man." added Chelsea, with a glum little look on her face as she stared at her bike. It left a wobble in her voice as she spoke up again. "My baby..."

[misfit]

[/color] he said, more to himself than her. Christopher didn't want her to hurt herself anymore than she already was because he knew that she had to be in some kind of pain. And for that, he was sorry. More sorry than he could ever be about something. After a moment, she looked up at him, her hand shielding her eyes from the glaring sun as she peered up at him. Christopher watched as recognition dawned on her face when she realized...

That he was Chris Hughes. She asked if he was kidding her and he just sat there quietly, letting her take a moment to absorb it all. Christopher listened as amusement took over her voice and she asked him to please tell her that he was a Chris Hughes look alike and not actually the actor himself. She chuckled some and then stopped as if it hurt her. She muttered something about great, and he watched her silently. "I don't think you need me to confirm that." he muttered uselessly, "I can if you want however." he told her, knowing he had several pieces of identification on his person that he could use if need be. He doubted that she would need that reassurance however. Her eyes and brain told her what she needed to know.

After a moment, she told him that she was fine and tried to move once more, saying that she needed to get out of the road. As she said this, an ambulance came cruising towards them and stopped a few feet back. Chris glanced up at them just as she looked towards the wreckage the road had made of her bike and he heard her whimper something about a baby. Christopher looked at her and there was regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry. My grandad's a mechanic. I can get it fixed up for you, if you'll let me. I'll cover all expenses, of course." he told her, his hand coming up to stop the paramedics from coming closer. "Do you want transport?" he asked, his gaze finding hers. "I'm not a doctor, but I'd say you're in pretty bad shape."[/blockquote][/size][/ul][/blockquote]

[chelsea]

Holy mother fucking shit. It was not everyday that one could say they got the wind knocked out of them by a movie star. "No, no it's okay." she said, trying not to chuckle. But this was just completely ridiculous! And actually really embarrassing. She had watched a number of his movies before and here she was on the ground after being clipped by him. "I thought you were supposed to be a good driver." she said, referring to the series of movies he was in, that involved him being a car driver. She cracked a cheeky smile, trying to show that she wasn't going to blow up at him because of this - or if she did, she didn't really mean it - and then she bit down on her pierced bottom lip and brushed her cheek. That was gonna be a nice bruise in the morning. This was all so very overwhelming and sudden. She looked around in confusion and despair. Totally irrational thoughts were jumping into her head, about the plans she had made to go out with friends tomorrow night and the fact that she had work tomorrow.

None of it was important but it was what she was thinking about! She brushed her hand through her jet black and bright blue dyed hair and watched as an ambulance rolled on up. God, she hated being fussed over. And that was all the paramedics were going to do and bombard her with questions. She just wanted to go home and watch Law Abiding Citizen, watch her man Gerard Butler get revenge (and go butt naked…). When Chris offered to pay for her bike, she shook her head gently. "You don't have to, man. It was an accident. Unless you hit me on purpose, then fuck yeah you can pay for it." she said. Humour was a good thing. Humour meant that Chelsea was not dying and she was not going to beat this dude within an inch of his life. Not that she could right now. Considering every time she moved her arm it hurt like a bitch. But it was not the worst pain she could imagine she'd ever have to go through, so Chelsea did what she did best - gritting her teeth and bearing it.

But she agreed with Chris. Better to be safe than sorry right? She thought about the likes of Natasha Richardson, the fabulous actress who died after a bump to the head who appeared to be completely fine after her accident. She was on the sidewalk now and watching a guy drag her baby across into the side of the road. She snapped back into reality to answer Chris. "Oh, right. Yeah I guess." she said as paramedics began to approach. Was Chris coming too? She looked at her bike again and licked her lips. A paramedic dropped to his knees beside her to start checking her out. Medically speaking. Giving her the once over, asking her did this hurt, did that hurt, could she do this and do that. Look at me, look over there, follow the light. She explained she had blacked out but not for very long. Yada yada yada. She knew a concussion was probably at the top of the injury list. Wasn't her first case of it and it certainly wouldn't be her last. She'd had hangovers worse than concussion. She'd deal with it.

But they wanted her to go to the hospital, just to be sure. Just to get checked out, make sure nothing was broken or busted inside. Keep an eye on her, all that routine stuff. And fuck it. She liked hospital food, believe it or not. Lets do it. She borrowed a pen and a piece of paper from someone and scribbled down her name and cell phone number and the number of a good dude at a garage who would come pick up the bike if need be and she handed it over to Chris, asking him to call the number, give her name and number to that guy and stay with her bike until he picked it up (unless he couldn't). "I'll be fine, really." she said to reassure him that she wasn't going to die or anything so he didn't have to panic. And then got a ride in the ambulance to the hospital. But boo, those whores. They didn't put on any flashing lights.

---

NOTES: I hope what I put was okay in the last paragraph, lol. Gave him her full name so he can ask at the hospital when he comes to check on her. <3

[misfit]

[/color] he said jokingly, his mouth quirking up in a charming grin. After a moment the ambulance showed and he stopped their approach, waiting to get her approval before allowing them forward.

Christopher offered to cover all expenses on her newly busted bike and she told him that he didn't have to. Unless, of course, he had hit her on purpose. Then hell yeah he would be paying for it. Chris shook his head in amusement before looking back at her, "Consider it covered. Even if I didn't mean to hit you." Once that was established, the paramedics moved forward to check on her and Chris sat back by her side, watching them curiously as they checked her pulse and her heart and everything in between. Once they finished the preliminaries, the woman asked for a pen and paper. When one was produced, she began scribbling on it and then it out to him, letting him know that was giving him her phone number and name as well as the name and number of a guy who would pick up her bike for her. Christopher nodded as he looked at the paper, taking in the information as she was loaded into the ambulance. He looked up once the vehicle was rolling away and only then did he stand. Chelsea Erin Bray. Where had he heard that name before?

Shaking his head, he pulled out his cellphone and called the man listed there. He introduced himself and told him what the scenario was. Minutes later, the two clicked off and Christopher walked back to his car, inspecting the ding on the front of it. He shook his head and sighed, waiting for the man to arrive.

TWO HOURS LATER.

Christopher made his way through the hospital parking lot and into the building. He figured that whatever had been done to Chelsea was over with by now and wanted to visit her. Why? Well, Chris wasn't sure about the reasoning behind it. But one thing he knew, she was beautiful, even all banged up like she was. Scrubbing his face with the heel of his hand, he forced himself to chill out for a few moments before approaching the counter. "I'm looking for Chelsea Bray's room." he informed the petite blonde behind the counter, who practically swooned when she caught sight of him. Slipping off his aviators, she practically gawked before regaining her composure and quickly began skimming through the pile of folders in front of her. "Room 228. I'll show you." She told him and Christopher knew she was breaking some form of regulations for him. Normally, Chris knew, you had to be a family member to be able to see someone in the first few hours after an incident. Apparently, this girl was overlooking that small fact because he was famous.

Well, Christopher never said you couldn't take advantage of your position whenever the oppurtunity was open to you. Shaking his head as he smirked to himself, he followed the woman and watched as she cracked the door and peeked inside. When she was satisfied with what she saw, she opened the door a little wider and stepped out of the way. "Ms. Bray is ready to see you, Mr. Hughes." she told him with a smile. Christopher walked past her and glanced back, "Chris." he said, turning his back to her once more as he walked into the room and shut the door. He leaned back against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest nonchalantly. "Bike's taken care of." Christopher said, looking over at Chelsea. "How are you feeling?" he asked, feeling kind of dumb for not thinking of anything more clever than that. Wasn't he supposed to be smooth and charming? Yeah, right.[/blockquote][/size][/ul][/blockquote]

[chelsea]

What a weird event. She just couldn't get her head around it! In the ride to the hospital, she started to feel really nauseous and was determined not to throw up but the jiggling around in the ambulance was not helping. She must have spent the first hour in the hospital going through a series of tests and scans, mostly on her head and her ribs. Which was just fucking hilarious, they decided to just give her a CT scan, which meant she had to take out her piercings. All of them! Chelsea having to explain that she had nipple and labia piercings, really amused the nurse who was accompanying her. Oh they did have a giggle over it, Chels trying desperately not to laugh. If she did have a fracture, it was the smallest of all splits that ever could exist. They were pretty sure it was just bruising but even that would take about three weeks to heal. With pain medication, it would stop being annoyingly painful after the first week.

As for the concussion? It was minor. But because she was unconscious at one point, though she tried to tell them it couldn't have been for more than a minute, they didn't know that for sure and wanted to keep her in over night. Whatever. A day or two off work for Chelsea! Which meant boredom. And you couldn't sit around boozing in a hospital. Shit. They had really only just finished stitching up the side of her thigh, when a nurse came in to ask if a visitor was welcome. Chris had come to the hospital, which was nice of him. What a gent he was being. Whether it was to cover his own ass or simply because he was one of the nice guys in the world, she appreciated it. Because the pain didn't bother her nearly as much as the damage to her bike. She dreaded having to call her dad, because he would at first be really worried, then mad that someone ran into her, then totally bummed out that the bike he worked on was broken. But most of all, he'd be glad his little girl was alright.

And she was. Chelsea was absolutely fine, she hurt but happy pain drugs would help with that, she'd have some nice bruises and would have to rest for the next few days. But she was fine, she'd been through worse! She smiled wearily as Chris stood in the door, sat there in her gown and her undies, buried under a cosy blanket that reminded her of a baby blanket. She didn't feel naked because of being in a gown (she did nude modelling, when would being naked ever make her feel uncomfortable?) but rather, because she had none of her piercings in! From her tongue to her lip, to her private piercings to the plugs in her earlobes. It felt so weird! "Yeah? Thanks, I appreciate it." she said with a nod and chuckled, holding her ribs and coughing to clear her throat because she sounded groggy. "Oh, I'm fine. Tender, you know? But totally fine. I don't feel like throwing up anymore. Yaay." she said in delight. "What about you. Are you okay?" she asked, feeling a little bit more friendly now than earlier.

At the end of the day, it was just a bike, right? Even if she loved it. It was just a bike. It could have been a lot worse and for that, she had to be thankful. She'd keep on telling herself that to stop herself from being a total bitch when he was nothing but apologetic and willing to help. Being involved in a crash was scary for any involved. So she just wanted to make sure he was alright too!

[misfit]

[/color] he told her. Now I'm a little stirred, he thought uselessly. "But otherwise I'm okay. Relieved to know that you're fine and in one piece." he said with another genuine Hughes smile. He glanced away from her, feeling a bit awkward that he wasn't sure what else to say. Why had he come here? It wasn't like he knew her at all...Damn.[/blockquote][/size][/ul][/blockquote]

[chelsea]

It was completely understandable that he was shaken up. Chelsea had never crashed into anyone before but she would imagine that shock and guilt were immediate after the impact. They could both be content and thankful that it was only a minor accident. "Totally. And I'm, uh, I'm sorry I tried to bite your head off back there." she said with a light shrug of her shoulders. She had been meaning to say it back at the scene of it but typical stubborn Chelsea couldn't take back her anger at the time. She had had enough time and space to calm down a bit now. "I'm a hot-headed little pain in the ass sometimes." she said in a coy manner, biting down on her the side of her bottom lip while the other side of her lips was curved up in a smile, creating a little dimple beside it. She lifted up her tattooed arm, which was the good side for her ribs, and gave him the thumbs up.

"Yeahh man. It takes more than a bump from a car to break me." she said, totally dismissing the idea of a care doing any proper damage to her. "I've had worse knocks, believe me." she said and grinned. Like that one time when she was something like nine years old and she fell off of a high wall. Chelsea was convinced she had broken her ass! But apparently all she got was a seriously bruised tailbone area and lower back. She was lucky not to have broken her fucking spine. She remembered it like it was yesterday, the way she had winded herself so much that she couldn't breath properly and her brother had to ignore the fact that her back was sore to give her a slap on it. And when she took a breath, she threw up all over him. And then cried, a lot.

She broke both wrists on different occasions, one time getting into a fight during a game of outdoor hockey in school and having a stick whacked across her arm. She screamed bloody murder because her first reaction was to hit the bitch. Which she did, with the wrong fucking hand, the one that was injured. The other wrist broke after landing funny while on a dirt bike excursion and she didn't even realise it was broken until she had walked with her bike back to the main building, unstrapped her gloves and saw bone. "You wanna sit down?" she said, gesturing to the seat beside the bed. Unless he wanted to stand in the doorway, which was fine. "I'm glad you're here. I hate hospitals." she said and brushed her bangs out of her face. Not that they sucked, she loved that they helped people and made them all better.

But they just made her feel uneasy. Not anxious or anything, just uneasy. And lonely, she had been sat by herself with nothing to do and no one to talk to except nurses every now and then. She hated being told what to do too, but she was trying to be a good little patient considering she had to stay overnight. When her friend got off work, she was going to grab Chelsea some shit from home like pyjamas and an Ipod so she had music at the very least. "They want to keep me overnight. I'm gonna go insane if I have to sit around by myself. They better put me on a ward." Chelsea said with a cheeky little snicker. Let them try and not. Just let them. She would be the biggest pain in their asses until she was around other people! "But really, thanks for coming. It's really nice of you." she said with a nod.

---

NOTES: I can't stop admiring/enjoying your sig pictures. Damn yoou. -shakes fist- xD

[misfit]

[/color] he whistled for good measure, not being able to find the right words to describe what he would do to someone who messed up one of his most prized possessions. He could completely get why she had flipped on him earlier, he could tell she was devoted to her bike. It was clear in her eyes.

Christopher commented that he was glad that she was fine and in one piece and she responded by saying that it took a lot more than a bump from a car to break her. She grinned and he did as well in return. She told him that she had had worse knocks and he wondered what they had been. Considering she had a bike, probably something along those lines. After a few moments, she offered him the seat that was next to the bed, asking him if he wanted to sit down. Without a word, he crossed the room in a few easy strides and dropped down in the seat as she told him that she was glad that he was here because she hated hospitals. "And why is that?" he mused, watching her as his chest warmed with the knowledge that she welcomed, maybe even wanted, his presence.

They sat there for a few moments and then Chelsea piped up, telling him that they wanted to keep her at the hospital overnight. She mentioned that she would go insane if she had to stay here all by herself. She commented about them putting her in a ward. Christopher laughed when she did, his blue eyes beaming with the joy of it. She thanked him for coming, saying that it was nice of him. Christopher nodded before speaking, "It's the least I could do." he said with a shrug. "And, if you don't want to be alone here, I can stick around until they try to kick me out." he said, another grin creeping up onto his features. Something about this woman intrigued him. Maybe it was her fiery spirit she had displayed to him only hours before. Maybe it was her resolve. Damn, he didn't know, but he was determined to find out. Even if that meant sitting here for hours, as long as she wanted him to remain, just to be with her. Gah, he felt like such a creeper for some reason. Maybe because he sounded like a stalker.

He gave himself a mental shake and focused back on the female next to him as he sat back in his chair. Christopher didn't mind hospitals at all. They represented good things to him in all honesty. His twin half-silbings Jackson and Jamie had been born in a hospital. His son Alfie had been born in a hospital. Yes, it was all happiness, sunshine, and flowers when it came to hospitals for Christopher. At least, so far it had. No one that Chris had known had died here. "So, I bet it's not everyday you get hit by someone famous." he said with a laugh. No, he wasn't being arrogant or anything of the sort. Christopher was just trying to make conversation and, well, that was the best he had come up with. Lame. With a capital L.

ooc; lol, yeah, i know. i'm the same with it. i'm glad you like the sig.[/blockquote][/size][/ul][/blockquote]

[chelsea]

She couldn't ever compare her bike to the important status of a child, especially if it was your own but in that same sort of way, she saw her bike as her baby, just like she referred to it as earlier. And seeing it all messed up, it upset her and it angered her. Chelsea actually felt guilty, because Chris was nothing but polite, apologetic and understanding about the entire situation from the start, while earlier on she had been ready to stab him for the accident. One day, she would really have to start working on controlling her temper. She gave this mock-serious “I know, right?” expression when he whistled at the very idea of someone trashing his bike, or whatever possession. She was sure that whatever his toy of choice was, it was awesome. Oh to be able to afford such things! He passed by her bedside and took the seat, while she tried to get comfy at a different angle to face him.

And she shrugged one shoulder lightly. Why did hospitals weird her out? To be honest, she had never really thought about it. Just any time she had been there, waiting around with upset or ill people, that chemical and overly-clean smell would hit you and it was just an unsettling environment, except on kiddie wards. Unless there was some really sad and uber-sick looking kid that would just break your heart. "I don't know, there's just something about them that gives me the heebie jeebies. I guess 'cause if you're here and it's not to like, have a baby or get a life-changing transplant, you ain't here for a good thing. You know?" she said, trying to explain her dislike of hospitals (trying go figure it out for herself). Perhaps hate was a strong word, they didn't freak her out enough to point blank refuse to go to one. But they just gave off a vibe that she didn't enjoy. "Although I must say, some good times can be had in hospitals. Racing in wheelchairs, best thing ever." she said, her face lighting up with the memories.

With her friend seriously ill and stuck in hospital, she had to find ways to keep a smile on that kid's face. From screaming down some hallway using two wheelchairs they hijacked in a hospital back in Stockton with a nurse in tow, hoping they didn't crash into anyone to Chelsea having a dance off with a hospital porter who was more than happy to show them his moves and bring them extra jello to showing up dressed as a nurse and prescribing marshmallows to get better, which she brought in a big bucket-sized container. Chelsea grinned, knowing that they could try and kick him out but he'd find some suave way to talk them into letting them stay if he wanted to. I mean, he was Chris Hughes. These celebrities could probably weasel their way out of anything! "I'm pretty sure that nurse would do anything for you. Seriously...anything." she said with a naughty grin. "Definitely not!" she said with a laugh, burying her face in the palm of her hand and trying to gently giggle to herself.

She lifted her head, running her hand through her hair in a way that made her bangs spring back into place once her hand moved away. "It's a little embarrassing, I must admit." she said with a nod, smiling over to him. Well it was, it would be embarrassing if it was just your average Joe member of the public. But this is someone who'd she had seen (and licked her lips at) in movies before now. It wasn't like she had never met a 'celebrity' she knew a few as friends and of course, she worked with a number of popular actors and actresses from a television show. Perhaps that was why she wasn't terribly starstruck. But it was still, it was the kind of situation that made you beg the ground to crack open and eat you alive. Yes, even Chelsea - the girl who seemingly had no shame - could actually get embarrassed. Shocking, I know. "You won't get any, like, trouble for it. Will you?" she asked, meaning press or anything. She was thankful the police hadn't cornered him to breath-test him or anything.

[misfit]

[/color] he said, sighing slightly. "But, alas, I use my powers for good, not evil." he said, grinning as he did so. Christopher looked at Chelsea and mentioned that it was not every day that she got hit by someone famous. She laughed, covering her face with her hand as she did so before moving to run her fingers through her hair once the giggling subsided. She said definitely not, and then commented that it was a little embarressing. Chris grinned and watched her for a moment as she looked at him.

She asked if he was going to get in trouble, seemingly concerned for his well-being as far as his reputation went. Christopher shrugged a bit before running his hand through his hair and sighing, "My agent will probably be all over my ass for it but I'm pretty sure no one else will care. Except maybe the tabloids, but I'll do what I can to keep your name out of it." He said as he glanced around the room for a few moments, deep in contemplation. "I do want to figure out a way to make this up to you however." he muttered, glancing back in her direction, his stark blue gaze trained on her face.

ooc; sorry it took so long, been museless. hence this sucky post. wanna kill this and move on to the pizza thread?[/blockquote][/size][/ul][/blockquote]