Charlie Ferris, Various #2, Prompt #76 (Art)
Title: Ladyfriend -> Art Student
Prompt Set: Various #2
Prompt: #76 Art
Rating/Warnings: PG (Swearing, Lord's name in vain)
Author's Notes: Enjoy.
"Goddamn, Charlie, how'd you find this place?" a tall, thin boy with a shaved head asked as he walked up to the front of the non-descript restaurant front. He wore long, faded jeans and a black tee shirt under a bright green track jacket. The stubble growing in for his hair was dark and coarse. Charlie smiled crookedly as Bryce approached, then pushed himself away from the wall. The men embraced, grinning at each other.
"Blind luck," Charlie explained as he stepped back from Bryce. "Dirt cheap vegan soft serve ice cream, close to home. It's what was missing for the first 20 years of my life."
"Close to home?" Bryce asked as a cute, almost as tall, almost as thin, dark haired girl stepped up next to him, giving Charlie a quick once over. He didn't return the effort. "Where you living now?"
"Across the river from the Navy Yard," he said. "For as much as my mom was bitching at me to get out of her house, she nearly died when I told her I was moving down here. Mike tells me that she calls him daily, asking if I've been killed yet."
Bryce smiled. "She still up in northeast?"
"For now," Charlie shrugged. "Mike's saving up to move her to Virginia."
Bryce nodded, then looked to the girl next to him, putting his arm around her waist, where a skintight black babydoll tee met a thin, dark fuchia colored, knee length skirt. "Charlie, I want you to meet Greta. Greta, this is the misanthropic son of a bitch who judges everything, immoderately, and grows harder to impress with every effort I make to salvage the dignity of humanity."
Charlie smirked at Bryce, still not paying anymore mind to Greta other than the fact that her hair fell messily around her face in ragged layers, mostly about chin length. Bryce looked to her and she looked back up at him. "If it weren't for this guy, there is an off chance I could have had self esteem in high school."
Charlie chuckled, waving his hand to stop him. "It's not like you ever had anything nice to say about me, either."
Bryce grinned, then opened the door to the restaurant, letting Charlie enter first. Greta followed him silently, then Bryce came in last and they all sat at a table of Charlie's choosing. He sat and looked up at Bryce as he took the seat across the table from him, the girl sitting next to Bryce. "So how's CUNY and Manhatten?"
"It's crazy up there, Ferris," Bryce said, shaking his head slightly. "I live in Harlem, up on 143rd. I'm just a couple blocks from the most amazing jazz club I've ever been to."
"A jazz club? You're not 21 yet," Charlie said.
"They don't card," Bryce shrugged. "I started talking to one of the bartenders about politics once and things have been smooth since then."
Charlie nodded and leaned back in his seat. "There's some pretty good jazz clubs around here, too."
"What are you talking about?" Bryce laughed. "Are you defending D.C.? What happened to true to Louisville til death?"
"Everything looks different now that I don't live at home," he shrugged. "I like southeast. I could stay a while."
"You don't seem quite so militant anymore," Bryce said.
"I'm still militant. I'm just tired tonight," Charlie said, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly. "I'm tearing down the system tomorrow, so I'm resting up. So what do you do in Manhatten besides go to jazz clubs?"
"Not much," Bryce admitted. "School has taken over my life. I go to class, go home, go to class, go home, sometimes I even sleep."
"But there's so much to do there," Charlie said, starting to smirk. "Haven't you played the tourist yet? Been to Times Square, all that?"
Bryce laughed. "Dude, I haven't even been south of Central Park except to see Greta."
"Bryce... everything's south of Central Park. What about going to SoHo? Chelsea? Aren't those the reasons to be in New York? What about all the art museums? Haven't you been to MoMA?"
"I've only been around for a semester and a half," he shrugged. "And I'm flat broke. Manhatten is fucking expensive."
Charlie nodded, then leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Sucks. When I visit, I'll have to make you go to a museum or something. We've been spoiled here with all our free museums..."
Bryce nodded, then looked to Greta who was deeply involved in the menu. He nudged her. "Everything all right?"
She nodded, not speaking or lifting her eyes from the menu. Bryce frowned slightly, then gave Charlie a look that conveyed the idea, "I don't know why she's acting like this, normally she's perfectly socialized. Perhaps if you engaged her in the conversation she would open up?" Charlie was familiar with this look and frowned, then looked to the girl. Her eyes were a vibrant shade of blue as they raced across the menu and had thick brown eye brows that were crafted into smooth arches. She had a small but cute mouth that she had painted a deep, purplish shade of red. Her face wasn't cute in the traditional sense, she looked older. Sophisticated. Sagacious. Charlie felt that he didn't like looking at her, so he looked away.
"So you're from New York?" Charlie asked, his voice purposely sounding as if he were struggling to involve her in the conversation.
"I've lived there for the past two years," she said softly, her eyes now raising from the menu to find Charlie being deeply fascinated by a piece of dirt under his thumbnail. She looked away again, unimpressed.
"She's originally from Oregon," Bryce said, picking up the conversation and watching Greta with a slight frown.
"Oregon," Charlie repeated. "That sounds... cool. Did you move to New York for school?"
"Sure did," she said, her voice now sounding as bored as Charlie's. He was surprised by this and looked up to her again for a short moment, finding that she was pretty much entirely ignoring him now. Bryce noticed this as well.
"She goes to NYU," Bryce said, then smiled. "I met her at that jazz club."
Charlie looked to Bryce and raised a curious eyebrow and he shrugged, shaking his head. Charlie considered a moment, then tried again, struggling to put something that sounded like genuine interest in his voice. "So why did you choose New York?"
His efforts were not successful, he decided, when she looked up at him with a very dull stare. He felt uncomfortable. He briefly considered the possibility that this was how 95% of the people he treated like this felt, but let the idea go quickly. She closed her menu and set it on the table, clasping her hands together and setting them on the table on her menu as she leaned slightly forward.
"I'm an artist," she said, cocking her head in a subtly condescending gesture that Bryce didn't even noticed and Charlie only picked up on because he'd used it so many times before, "All artists have to live in New York at some point in their life, right?"
Charlie stared at her now, finally giving her his full attention with an utterly blank stare. "I... uh... wouldn't know."
Prompt Set: Various #2
Prompt: #76 Art
Rating/Warnings: PG (Swearing, Lord's name in vain)
Author's Notes: Enjoy.
"Goddamn, Charlie, how'd you find this place?" a tall, thin boy with a shaved head asked as he walked up to the front of the non-descript restaurant front. He wore long, faded jeans and a black tee shirt under a bright green track jacket. The stubble growing in for his hair was dark and coarse. Charlie smiled crookedly as Bryce approached, then pushed himself away from the wall. The men embraced, grinning at each other.
"Blind luck," Charlie explained as he stepped back from Bryce. "Dirt cheap vegan soft serve ice cream, close to home. It's what was missing for the first 20 years of my life."
"Close to home?" Bryce asked as a cute, almost as tall, almost as thin, dark haired girl stepped up next to him, giving Charlie a quick once over. He didn't return the effort. "Where you living now?"
"Across the river from the Navy Yard," he said. "For as much as my mom was bitching at me to get out of her house, she nearly died when I told her I was moving down here. Mike tells me that she calls him daily, asking if I've been killed yet."
Bryce smiled. "She still up in northeast?"
"For now," Charlie shrugged. "Mike's saving up to move her to Virginia."
Bryce nodded, then looked to the girl next to him, putting his arm around her waist, where a skintight black babydoll tee met a thin, dark fuchia colored, knee length skirt. "Charlie, I want you to meet Greta. Greta, this is the misanthropic son of a bitch who judges everything, immoderately, and grows harder to impress with every effort I make to salvage the dignity of humanity."
Charlie smirked at Bryce, still not paying anymore mind to Greta other than the fact that her hair fell messily around her face in ragged layers, mostly about chin length. Bryce looked to her and she looked back up at him. "If it weren't for this guy, there is an off chance I could have had self esteem in high school."
Charlie chuckled, waving his hand to stop him. "It's not like you ever had anything nice to say about me, either."
Bryce grinned, then opened the door to the restaurant, letting Charlie enter first. Greta followed him silently, then Bryce came in last and they all sat at a table of Charlie's choosing. He sat and looked up at Bryce as he took the seat across the table from him, the girl sitting next to Bryce. "So how's CUNY and Manhatten?"
"It's crazy up there, Ferris," Bryce said, shaking his head slightly. "I live in Harlem, up on 143rd. I'm just a couple blocks from the most amazing jazz club I've ever been to."
"A jazz club? You're not 21 yet," Charlie said.
"They don't card," Bryce shrugged. "I started talking to one of the bartenders about politics once and things have been smooth since then."
Charlie nodded and leaned back in his seat. "There's some pretty good jazz clubs around here, too."
"What are you talking about?" Bryce laughed. "Are you defending D.C.? What happened to true to Louisville til death?"
"Everything looks different now that I don't live at home," he shrugged. "I like southeast. I could stay a while."
"You don't seem quite so militant anymore," Bryce said.
"I'm still militant. I'm just tired tonight," Charlie said, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly. "I'm tearing down the system tomorrow, so I'm resting up. So what do you do in Manhatten besides go to jazz clubs?"
"Not much," Bryce admitted. "School has taken over my life. I go to class, go home, go to class, go home, sometimes I even sleep."
"But there's so much to do there," Charlie said, starting to smirk. "Haven't you played the tourist yet? Been to Times Square, all that?"
Bryce laughed. "Dude, I haven't even been south of Central Park except to see Greta."
"Bryce... everything's south of Central Park. What about going to SoHo? Chelsea? Aren't those the reasons to be in New York? What about all the art museums? Haven't you been to MoMA?"
"I've only been around for a semester and a half," he shrugged. "And I'm flat broke. Manhatten is fucking expensive."
Charlie nodded, then leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Sucks. When I visit, I'll have to make you go to a museum or something. We've been spoiled here with all our free museums..."
Bryce nodded, then looked to Greta who was deeply involved in the menu. He nudged her. "Everything all right?"
She nodded, not speaking or lifting her eyes from the menu. Bryce frowned slightly, then gave Charlie a look that conveyed the idea, "I don't know why she's acting like this, normally she's perfectly socialized. Perhaps if you engaged her in the conversation she would open up?" Charlie was familiar with this look and frowned, then looked to the girl. Her eyes were a vibrant shade of blue as they raced across the menu and had thick brown eye brows that were crafted into smooth arches. She had a small but cute mouth that she had painted a deep, purplish shade of red. Her face wasn't cute in the traditional sense, she looked older. Sophisticated. Sagacious. Charlie felt that he didn't like looking at her, so he looked away.
"So you're from New York?" Charlie asked, his voice purposely sounding as if he were struggling to involve her in the conversation.
"I've lived there for the past two years," she said softly, her eyes now raising from the menu to find Charlie being deeply fascinated by a piece of dirt under his thumbnail. She looked away again, unimpressed.
"She's originally from Oregon," Bryce said, picking up the conversation and watching Greta with a slight frown.
"Oregon," Charlie repeated. "That sounds... cool. Did you move to New York for school?"
"Sure did," she said, her voice now sounding as bored as Charlie's. He was surprised by this and looked up to her again for a short moment, finding that she was pretty much entirely ignoring him now. Bryce noticed this as well.
"She goes to NYU," Bryce said, then smiled. "I met her at that jazz club."
Charlie looked to Bryce and raised a curious eyebrow and he shrugged, shaking his head. Charlie considered a moment, then tried again, struggling to put something that sounded like genuine interest in his voice. "So why did you choose New York?"
His efforts were not successful, he decided, when she looked up at him with a very dull stare. He felt uncomfortable. He briefly considered the possibility that this was how 95% of the people he treated like this felt, but let the idea go quickly. She closed her menu and set it on the table, clasping her hands together and setting them on the table on her menu as she leaned slightly forward.
"I'm an artist," she said, cocking her head in a subtly condescending gesture that Bryce didn't even noticed and Charlie only picked up on because he'd used it so many times before, "All artists have to live in New York at some point in their life, right?"
Charlie stared at her now, finally giving her his full attention with an utterly blank stare. "I... uh... wouldn't know."