a new light?|gemma

[koby asher mannix]

Don’t ask what Koby Mannix was doing at school on a Saturday out of all days. He just wanted to get away from everything, the house, Luke and whatever other problems that decided to pop out of nowhere and just made him feel like throttling himself. That morning he felt lonely, annoyed. Luke had managed to turn Koby’s alarm off and escape the house without him knowing, not leaving a note about his whereabouts and not answering his phone when Koby called him. The older brother was going out of control, not doing what he was told, going to parties and drinking…it was always Koby who had to pay for the consequences, Koby who had to be the one to go get Luke if he ever ended up in jail, or go get him at three in the morning when there was no friends to drop him off home after his partying escapades. A hand rubbed against his face, his eyes closed for a second, taking in the stillness and the quiet of the La Luminese library.

Now this…this was heaven, this felt great and even if it was just some old, dusty library that people only came into when they really needed to, he loved it at that moment because it was giving him some sort of refuge. It was giving him an amazing chance to just relax and not have to keep up an act for once. His work was piled in front of him, five assignments to the left, which he had still yet to do, and one opened up in front of him. The assessment was pretty simple, all he had to do was read the story and answer the questions, comprehensions were easy enough since they always used to give it when they were younger and in school. His right and moved fluently across the page, stopping only when he read the question, went back to the story and found the page and thought how to word his answers and that was it. The only sound was his breathing (which sounded loud to him) and the scribbling of his pen across the page.

A few minutes later he smiled to himself. Yes. Smiled. Koby Mannix did know how to smile; it was just always hidden by the anger, the annoyance and the pickiness that surrounded him all the time. Putting the now closed folder to the right of the table that he was at, he picked up the next one, which was on the top of the pile and opened it, reading the instructions that were there. He rolled his eyes at the assignment, ‘write down an ‘essay’ of a typical day in your life.’ He scoffed, so that would be waking up in fright, worrying over his brother twenty four seven, walking home quickly to see if anything had happened, cooking, staying at home, working on his assignments and blah and blah and blah. Putting the folder down onto the desk, he reached into his bag and grabbed his mobile to see if Luke had returned his calls. He hadn’t. So Koby called him, one ring, and two ring and…disconnected. Scowling, he put the phone away, sighing and looking around the empty library.

tagged| gemma. word count| 539. thoughts| well this was a crappy mc'crapperson post ><

[gemma ryan roe]

GEMMA STARTED TO REACH FOR what she knew was the last cigar in the very very bottom of her bag. It was slung over her shoulder and was hanging just below her fingertips, the little brass latches glinting in the afternoon sunlight. There were only a few clouds but Gemma hoped they'd get together and gang up on the sun; she always wrote best inside buildings with big windows when it was dark. She finally stopped on the sidewalk outside of the library, her boots stopped their muted clacking and she dug through her bag. There they were! She pulled out the ruffled pack of Black and Milds and inhaled the succinct, cherry-mocking scent. "Jesus," she whispered, looking up at the sky with squinted eyes. She promised herself she'd quit. Just as soon as she figured things out. Paris would be smoke free. Okay, fine, once she started school, she'd be smoke free. Maybe after this particularly hard assignment, she'd be smoke free. Perhaps after she figured out who killed her sister, she'd be smoke free. She lit up.

The smoke curled around the ends of her hair and wrapped around her bare neck. She exhaled and licked the backs of her teeth, which tasted like fake cherries and wine. Gemma didn't think twice about using a backdoor to the library. It was overly- large and had copious amounts of space; surely nobody would notice until she'd finished one cigar. Maybe two.

The scent of old books immediately covered the smell of her smoke. She pulled the creaking wood door shut behind her, eyes tracing the lines carved on the surface. Nothing was graffiti, just scratches and scrapes from people who decided to be sketchy and use the back door of the library over years and years. Gemma had no knowledge of the history of her school. How old was it supposed to be? She inhaled again, the cigar dangling between her index and middle finger at the leg of her dark jeans. God damn old. She closed her eyes. Behind the darks of her lids were shapes that the sun had made, trippy psychy patterns than unfolded back into her mind when she opened her eyes back up. Rows and rows of shelves dominated the bottom floor, dust covering everything. Gemma wondered how often it was really ever used.

She knew the second floor had better views, so she made her way very inconspicuously up the rickety stairs. The creaks sounded so loud to Gemma that she wanted to cover her ears. Then again, a lot of things made her want to cover her ears lately. She hitched her messenger bag further up on her back and ran her fingers through her hair, turning her head up slightly as she blew out the latest string of smoke. It rolled upwards then slowly disappeared.

Gemma was gazing whimsily up at her smoke, then the ceiling, when she heard the sharp exhale of a frustrated voice. She snapped her head back onto her shoulders and tried to rustle her mind back into the hemisphere of the normal. There was one shelf in her way, then a table, which she could just make out through the cracks of the books (maybe people did check things out?), and at the table was a boy with books and papers spread out around him. She walked quietly over to the shelf, hoping it would cover her, as she tried to recognize his face. Surely she knew a few of her fellow classmates. Ha, nope. He was frustratedly looking about the library. Maybe he smelled her smoke? Hopefully it was something more than that. Gemma backed up and looked around for another table and saw a tiny one for two in the corner, right next to the dustiest window. So she flicked the ashes off her cigar, took in another dreg, and walked as quiet as she could past the boy and his table and his anger and reached the window-seat one. Her assignments could wait, her books could wait, everything could wait; and she let all the smoke go.

TAGGED! koby <3
WEARING! jeans and something else, i'll find a picture later (:
NOTES! haaaaiiiiiiiiiiikkkkoooobbbbbbyyyyyyyy

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[koby asher mannix]

The word boring pretty much summed up Koby. He didn’t have a funny bone in his body at all. He didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, never went out to parties, never socialized (unless it had anything to do with something in school or a project which had to be done in groups), he never went out or tried something for the sake of trying and he never tried something new; always sticking to the same old boring routines that he had ever since he was thirteen or so years of age. He just could never force himself to go out somewhere and try something new. Even something as simple as eating, if he went into a café that he knew about, he would order the same cup of coffee every time, he wouldn’t add in extra flavors, extra little shots or even order a muffin on the side, it would just be the coffee the way he liked it and that was it. Now you could see as to why people didn’t like spending much time around Koby, he was just boring and had no appeal factor that most people had. The charm, the smile, and the friendliness…it was just never there for him.

Not that he minded, because Koby didn’t mind if people didn’t like him or not, well now he didn’t mind. He was old enough and mature enough to know that he wasn’t going to be liked by everyone in the world. Sometimes, the idea that no one liked him entered his mind, of course no one would like him, they’d be right out of their own mind if they did. Even his own brother didn’t hold enough love to give to him so why should a complete stranger that he’d meet in the few years give him some love? The word ‘love,’ was something that didn’t mean much to him, he didn’t think human beings were really capable of love. It was just something that was thrown around these days.

Did he love Luke, his brother? Did he love his parents? Well how could he love any of them? Luke was being selfish by trying to kill himself and being a drama queen, forcing everyone to watch him and take care of him as if he was the only important person in the world. Their parents gave into him, forcing Koby to move out of his own comfort zone and move to Paris out of all places with his brother out of all people. For a while he had been feeling completely overwhelmed by everything, his brothers second attempt at suicide and the workload that passed over him and the responsibilities that were pushed onto him. It was as if Luke was so fragile that he couldn’t do much, but he had enough strength for parties and drinking right?

The smell of smoke and the few creaking noises had alerted him that someone had entered the library, but the creaks slowed down and became softer, so it meant that the person was gone right? Who else would come to a library on a Saturday apart from himself? After putting his phone away though, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, feeling prickly and forcing him to shudder a little. But he finally saw something move and glanced towards the girl trying to walk past him to a table. His eyes zeroed in on the cigarette that was hung daintily in her hand. Without looking at her, focusing on his work and still writing he spoke, loud and clear in the library, as there was no one there. His voice slightly echoed and there was a hint of frustration in his tone. “Could you put that out…? Please?” He added in the last word hastily, still writing quickly as thoughts poured out of his head for his assignment.

tagged| gemma. word count| 643. thoughts| hiiiiii =)

[gemma ryan roe]

HER BAG FELL TO THE FLOOR with a tiny ruffle of old leather, loud enough she could hear it but quiet enough that she successfully ignored it. Harsh words covered the noise up. "Could you put that out?" Gemma's pulse ran up her throat and into her hears. She figured this boy surely wouldn't say anything; students at the library are quiet. They generally don't talk to each other...she guessed. Her eyes felt heavy as she glanced over in his direction, however, his figure was clouded in smoke. She began to clear the air before her with her other hand, brushing the air with her fingers, slowly. "...please?" The word came out like a haphazard dart; tossed up into the air and landed right in her lap. She blinked a few times before she realized what he was referring to. Students at the same school are 'all in it together', right? Perhaps she should have waited a year or so to be a better judge.

Gemma didn't do anything for a few seconds as she watched him scribble lightning speed on some paper. His hand was quick and quiet, and quietly she assumed he was a writer as well. Then she recognized his words for English and dug in her bag.

The tiny mirror she pulled out had a metal back, which she always used to stubbing out smokes. It used to be attractive, with metal ivy and some foreign words decorating the edges that she never bothered to read. Now it had black ash stains all over it, though she technically hadn't put one out in a long time. Generally, she smoked them till the very, very end. She tried to regroup herself.

"Nasty habit anyway..." And she crushed the end of the stick into the back of the mirror, then threw them both into the front pocket of her bag. "I'm- uh, sorry?" The words kind of crumpled at the back of her mouth, which was now effectively hot. She coughed a little bit, willing herself not to turn red.

Gemma never liked social things--anything at all that had to do with small talk or even looking at other people brought out in her such a fear that it was sometimes painful. She lived vicariously through her characters; if there was something she wanted to do then she could see it painted vividly through any fictional kids' eyes. Her characters became more her friends, especially in high school, than any real person ever had. She'd never gone to parties, and she'd only gotten drunk once, and it didn't even count in her mind because she'd done it alone. For 'research'. The only person near her age she'd ever gotten along with was her sister. Emily was studying to be an art historian- she loved art and museums and always dreamed of owning her own museum sometime in her future. She moved out when Gemma was still in highschool, but she was constantly spending the night with her sister. They didn't have to speak much to each other to understand. Emily really lived; she was so good at it. She could talk to anyone and entertain herself for days and days. She didn't need anyone else's approval to live. And Gemma did. That where Gemma didn't understand- why was Emily the one that was gone and herself still here? Who was, truly, the one that was still living and who was the one that was dead?

TAGGED! koby <3
WEARING!
NOTES! obsessed with the awkwardness. aaannd i luurve the font you use <3 aaaaaaand i love that koby's relationship with luke sucks ass and gemma's was good with her sister but now she's gone. yesaah!

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[koby asher mannix]

The sentence ‘never judge a book by its cover’ never really meant much to Koby because everyone judged. Whether or not someone actually knew they judged a person before meeting them was up to the person to say, but Koby always judged a person when he first saw them. He knew he did and he pretty much didn’t care. After all, it only really took five seconds for the human mind to create an impression of someone. Koby always loved his impressions of people because they were always the same, it was either ‘that person is an idiot’ or ‘EW, I don’t like this person one bit.’ That was one of the things that were slightly amusing for Koby; he didn’t need to get to know a person because his mind already made up if someone was good for him or if someone was bad (mainly bad, never really good actually thought). The fact that Koby didn’t even give this girl a chance didn’t even look up to see her face properly meant that he already disliked her. Smoking as a habit he didn’t like all too much.

Continuing to write, he didn’t pick up his head, just focusing his eyes onto his work, the smell of smoke grasping his nose into a tight hold while his mouth opened to cough out as much as he could. He didn’t make any noise though, just shuddered in annoyance, he didn’t like this at all. Wondering as to why she was taking so long to take the cigarette out, he glanced upwards; this time e was able to see her face and an eyebrow shot upwards instantly. This was a first for him. He didn’t know whether he liked the girl or whether he disliked her, for some reason she seemed intriguing. Gosh this was horrible! Why couldn’t he just dislike her, like he did everyone else? Nodding his head as she said it was a nasty habit anyway, he stopped himself quite quickly. For all he knew, she could have been speaking to herself and here he was just nodding his head like an idiot. So silly.

Though the apology was definitely meant for him. He hadn’t heard an apology in a while from someone at all. Never from Luke at least. The boy didn’t like saying ‘thank you,’ ‘please,’ or ‘sorry’ to Koby, it was as if it would be far too much for Luke to do anything like that. That’s what annoyed Koby quite a bit. There was never the ‘thanks for saving me Koby,’ or ‘sorry for putting you though all the hardships that you have because of me’ or ‘please can I just go out this once?’ Yeah, there was none of those and Koby had to be the one who looked like the bad guy. “It’s uh…fine.” He hadn’t really expected the girl to apologise though, she just didn’t seem like the type who would. Koby had initiated a conversation with her for far too long now so he stayed quiet, his eyes still focused on his work as he continued writing. But he felt like he had some more to say, as if he should say something. Putting his pen down, he rubbed a hand against his mouth, a sigh letting out while he then forced himself to suck his cheeks inwards; his cheekbones popped out a little before he stopped. “Thanks…” He then once again, picked up the pen and continued writing. Well…this was awkward.

tagged| gemma. word count| 581. thoughts| I'm sorry! I'm not giving you much to work with! Hahah, thank you! The font is 'arial' ahahah i know right? 'tis so sad! but i love gemma<333

[gemma ryan roe]

SHE RAN HER FINGERS over her shirt. When she had nothing in her hands, they began to shake. She figured she could maybe get out her assignment book or ever just start writing for any number of the essay or book reviews she needed to complete, any of the anything she needed to complete, so instead, she hung her head;watched her pale fingers move up and down the grey lines of cotton. Gemma's head ran in circles; her thoughts were so heavy they almost made plausible noises in her head. She didn't bother to reach towards any one of them: they were the balloons she would never quite be able to reach. The light outside was still bright as ever, sun shining like nobody's business everywhere around her. It didn't shine on her, though, she was just out of the sun's ample fingertips. Moments like this, moments when she was zoned, seemed to be occurring in alarmingly increasing numbers, day in and day out. Sleep was the ultimate state of this, of course, as dreaming was one of Gemma's favorite things. She let out a lot of air.

"It's, uhm, fine..."

She looked back up at the guy, who was sitting still, with his eyes focused very hard on what he was doing. Was he talking to his own writings or was he talking to her? Instinctively, her eyes narrowed, looking at him, really looking this time. The lines of his face were dark, so she figured, this must have meant the light behind him was dim, (or maybe light? She never was an artist) and he seemed to keep his skin still at all times. Suddenly, he put his pen down and rubbed a few fingers across the bottom of this face she had been staring at, making all sorts of dimples. She didn't turn away as he spoke, she watched the words form from his mouth. "Thanks..." It seemed like the frown lines underneath his lips were more pronounced than anything else on his face. He had cheekbones more prominent than Gemma could ever dream of, if that were, in fact, the kind of thing she dreamed of.

She also watching him sigh, a big, heavy noise that she could feel from across the room. He was letting go of more than just air. But, Gemma thought, he's holding onto something else, too.

"So, either you're a writer too, or you just have too much homework." She meant it to come out as a question, open ended, but instead she made an out loud assumption. What she really meant to ask was what the hell was wrong with him. Usually, Gemma could out- brood anybody, but she had a feeling, today, she might have been wrong.

TAGGED! koby <3
WEARING!
NOTES! THE LATENESS. SO SORRY. AND THE SHORTNESS. AND THE BAD QUALITY. ITS MY FAULT! so sorry dearest <3

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[koby asher mannix]

Slowly the books seemed to be making him feel suffocated, it was as if they were closing in on him, chiding him for working too hard or not working enough…he was confused as it was already. He didn’t need books talking to him didn’t he have enough sleep? Well he probably didn’t seeing as he was being nice to the girl that was seated on another table in front of him; he was being nice for marshmallow’s sake! That couldn’t happen; what if she told people and others began to think he was weak? What if people began to think that he wasn’t as hard as he seemed? But the on coming head ache that was slowly creeping its way to Koby’s temple made him forget all about everything and all that jazz about being nice, it would probably only be a one time thing, but the girl hadn’t yet infuriated him. She had put out the cancer stick as soon as he asked her too; a lot of people would have been annoyed with Koby for asking something like that. They really would have. But she was nice…a lot of people tried to be nice to Koby but for some reason this girl had more of an impact then all the others’ had, which was weird. No, he didn’t like her, Koby hardly liked anyone, and no he didn’t like her in the view as a girlfriend, she was just…normal for once.

An eyebrow was raised as she spoke again and for once in his life, Koby didn’t mind communicating with another person. OK, that was a lie; he liked communicating with Maisie because she was like his best friend, someone who was close to him and knew things about him, which he never thought in a million years, he would say. Maybe this girl could be like her too? No, he didn’t need anyone to know more about him, but maybe they could be acquaintances? Yes, the word sounded perfect, he didn’t need close people but he needed people that he knew here and there, he could ask them to do things for him…of course if they wished.

“Both.” He simply replied, unsure of what else to say. Koby was never a big talker, he never ended up saying loads and loads of stuff, if he was asked a question he would simply answer, otherwise he had nothing else to say. “Why are you in the library on a Saturday?” He didn’t look at her, but continued to gracefully write across the page in front of him, his eyes slightly turned into a frown. It was weird, they were both at ends of the library but still talking, and yet…Koby actually didn’t mind this. It was better than nothing at least.

tagged| gemma. word count| 463. thoughts| it was fine! seriously! there was nothing wrong!