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Post by owen michael mills on Mar 26, 2009 16:28:27 GMT -5
So kiss me goodbye!
Honey I'm gonna make it out alive.  --------------------------[/center] Fuck yes, this was exactly what Owen wanted to do. He wanted to just kick back, relax, drink a few drinks, maybe find someone to fool around with...but that wasn't exactly a priority on this particular day. It would more be a bonus thing then a necessity. He wasn't the kinda guy who went around looking for sex...he waited for it to come to him. In other words if he saw someone fuckable he would walk up to them and start talking, but he wasn't gonna just walk around the whole club looking for someone. That would just be desperate...and he wasn't desperate, not really.
He walked into the place, and touched his slightly poofy hair...he wasn't wearing a hat, for once in his life, so he kind of felt naked...if only he actually could go out in public naked, though, that would be kick ass. He wouldn't even have a need for fuckin' clothes, he'd wear his birthday suit everywhere. Fuck to the yes. But there were some laws against that or something, and so he had been forced to wear clothes...clothes that probably wouldn't be considered clubbing clothes, but he liked them. Brightly colored clothes were kinda his thing.
He walked over to the bar, and sat down, wearing his almost ever present cocky grin on his face. He was kind of a cocky bastard, but at least he admitted it. "Hey, bartender," He said, waving his hand in the air, and sighing loudly. He wanted a fucking drink, was that really too much to fucking ask for? When the tender finally went over to him he glared, and rolled his eyes, although he was still wearing his cocky grin. "Took ya long enough." He said, before quickly adding. "Can I have a pina colada? Quicker than it took you to get over here?"
And his drink did appear faster than the tender had, much to his happiness, although still not fast enough for him not to say "Finally!" as he threw his money, and grabbed his drink, taking a long gulp. Maybe it was a bit of a girly drink, but he liked it. He wanted his alcohol to actually taste good, and pina colada's where his absolute favorite. Whilst he drank his drank he glanced around the club, hoping to see someone that might catch his eye, before sighing and giving up. Maybe some fan girl would walk over to him and throw herself at him...hey, it had happened before.
count; 430
outfit; click
tags; open!
notes; uber suckage on the post. >.<
lyrics; snakes on a plane - cobra starship
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Post by Sumiko Airi Sato on Mar 26, 2009 22:48:38 GMT -5
DESTINYemmalineWHITNEY >>twetny>>loud>>crazyrated pg13 for language and intentions-------Many people knew that Destiny Emmaline Whitney, better known as Dee-Dee, liked to party. She was the kind of girl who had made it through high school with good grades, but who partied really hard on the weekends. Now, on tour, she pretty much partied all the time. It was how she had fun, and fuck anyone who thought her a bad person because of it. So what if she liked to cut loose a little bit? She had a stressful career going on! Sure many people don't actually consider being in a band hard work, but hell if they'd ever try it, they would know exactly how hard it was! Dee-Dee brushed aside these thoughts as she moved farther in the club.
Normally Dee-Dee would rather go to a house party, since gaining booze there was much easier then at a club, but she had not heard of one taking place, and since she needed to have a good time, the club was her next bet. Dee-Dee had used her fake idea to get in, although that was mostly so she would get 'X'ed as a underage person. It made it that much harder to optain booze if the bartender saw that stupid annoying black x. It was almost like they didn't want her to get drunk so that she could make the mistake of sleeping with them...Of course that had yet to happen with anyone but about two different people, but whatever. As she moved through the club, she watched people dancing.
She had declined several offers, but mostly because she wasn't even tipsy yet! She hadn't even ordered a drink. She needed time to unwind before she jumped up and danced like it was no body's business. As a performer, she found that she had tons of engry on and off stage. Perhaps that was a reason she liked to party so much? Dee-Dee moved up to the bar, and quickly enough the bartender appeared, appearing eger to take her order. " Strawberry Daiquri, " Dee-Dee told the bartender with a look she knew would be seductive. It drove the males mad, and generally, with the guy bartenders, she recieved her drink on the house.
As she waited for her drink, Dee-Dee spotted a fimilar face. Overly fimilar. Another party-goer, like herself, except he tended to party just a little more then she herself did. When her order came up, she winked at the bartender, got it on the house, and then moved towards said face. " I think the bartender likes me more." She said with a grin, having noticed it had taken the bartender longer to give the guy his drink then it had taken to get hers. She took a sip of her drink, her tongue tingling with the taste. It was one of her favorite drinks, but over time, she wouldn't remember having it. Especially after the mixed drinks she had a tendency to take shots of.
Dee-Dee was the kind of person who started off with the girly type of drinks, but by the end of the night she was generally drinking anything and everything. She amazed lots of people but the sheer amounts that she could take in. She could definately hold her liquor, a good thing too since she was irish and her relatives would probably disown her if she couldn't. The irish always were the best to drink with, probabaly because they were known to have a problem with drinking. Knowing that Dee-Dee had told herself when she was younger that she wouldn't touch alcohol, but that didn't exaclty go down the way she had hoped for. Not that she was complaining now, but she was sure her younger self was crying.
Her mother would probably be crying too, if Dee-Dee really wanted to get into with herself. Since her father was an alcoholic, and had left her mother while Dee-Dee was still in the room, her mother had little tolerance for drunkards. In fact, she had tried to install that in Dee-Dee, but unforunately all it did was make her want to drink more. It was the urge to rebel against her mother, although she loved her mother very much. Everyone needed to rebel right? Just ignore the fact that she hadn't felt the urge to rebel until she was told about her father at fifthteen.
Her mother had decided to tell her the truth about her father. That he hadn't died the way she had said he did. The sad truthful fact was, her father just didn't want either of them anymore. The prick bastard wanted someone less...pregnant!, then her mother. Dee-Dee had cried herself to sleep after her mother had left her that night. This small tid-bit in her life was something she had not shared with many, if anyone at all. It wasn't something she wanted publicized all over the place, much more prefering to keep her home life as secretive as possible. Thats what kept the people wanting more of her right? The not knowing. She was like a mystery!
Of course that mystery was less of a mystery when she was drunk and being questioned. Mostly when someone sought to question her about her life, she blew up at them. She didn't want to be analyized while she was drunk, or sober for that matter. That was something she had to watch, the blowing up. She didn't need to see her face plastered over the news for getting into some petty bar fight over whatever. She liked to party, she didn't want to go to jail just because of that, besides she was fun! All she wanted to do when she was drunk was dance, and flirt, and perhaps later get her freak thing on with someone. Was that so wrong?! She certainly didn't think so, and knew many people who would agree with her logic. What was wrong with sleeping around without being in a relationship anyway? It was so much easier this way! Minus the fear of catching an STD, a condom can only do but so much to stop one from catching one. Thats why she got herself tested fairly often. If she ever got one, she wanted to know about it as soon as possible.
Dee-Dee took another sip of her drink, and mentally sighed. Soon she'd be drunk enough she wouldn't have to think anymore. God how she couldn't wait for that too happen..' Oh god am I an alocholic?!' She thought to herself somewhere in the back of her mind.
Word Count: 1138 [/size] |
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Post by owen michael mills on Mar 27, 2009 1:38:58 GMT -5
So kiss me goodbye!
Honey I'm gonna make it out alive. --------------------------[/center] Owen took a sip of his slightly girly drink thinking about what a prick the bar tender was. Just because he didn't have boobs he was obviously going to be served last! Owen knew that he could pleasure the damn guy better than half the girls in the place could, or maybe even more. Yeah, he was a cocky bastard about such things, but you kind of had to love him, really. It was probably his poofy hair, or maybe just the fact that he was so damn charming when he wanted to be! And of course he looked great on stage...so at home. Half of his fans really just loved him because of that. And the stage was his home, really, even more so than Boston was, and he had grown up in Boston. The stage was his first home, and Boston was next in line, baby, and there was no where in between. Not his tour bus, not where his mom was, nope. Just his drum set, his sticks, and a crowd of sweating people yelling his name and mouthing his lyrics...well, he didn't usually write them, but he sure as hell knew them. And even if he didn't sing them out loud he did in his head...he always sounded a lot better in his head than he did when he actually sang...probably due to the fact that he couldn't sing to save his pour little life.
Just as all of this was running through his brain at hyper speed he spotted a familiar looking face heading his way. Oh, yes, he knew the face well, it was his lovely little friend Dee Dee. He licked his lips, then took a gulp of his drink. She was smokin', and he'd openly admit it...it wasn't like it was a fucking secret that he was a total horn dog, and it wasn't like Dee Dee really cared, he didn't think. The two had hooked up once...even if he couldn't remember it. But he was pretty sure it had been good...even if all eh could remember was waking up naked with her in a bed, and seeing his clothes on all different sides of the place...fuck, maybe nothing had happened..but he kinda doubted it. He was a total man whore at times, and he knew that while Dee Dee wasn't the sluttiest girl on earth she also wasn't the most pristine. She was no virgin mary, not by far.
'I think the bartender likes me more.' he heard her say, over the loudness of the place. He was wearing his usual cocky grin, the one that pissed a majority of the human population off to no end. "well, well, well, if it isn't the fair Dee Dee..." Just one of the many corny things he said on a daily basis. "So, it seems you're the reason that douche of a bar tender took so long to get to me. You owe me for that. Don't worry, we can figure out some kinda payment, I'm sure. He knew that although Dee Dee wasn't quite as much of a partier as he himself was she was pretty damn close. And completely fucking wild! Not that he was complaining, he liked them wild. And he planned on buyin' her a couple drinks that night...the more she had in her system, the wilder she got. That much he knew.
Owen knew he wasn't an alcoholic, no matter what anyone said...he also wasn't a druggie, just because he sometimes smoked pot at parties. And by sometimes I mean very, very rarely. As in once in a blue moon when someone offered it to him and he was too drunk to say no he'd take a little puff, hardly any at all. And yet everyone seemed to think he was just so fuckin' out of control! It bothered him to no end. He was in control, god damn it! He made it to every practice, even if his band mates didn't. He never missed a show. He never spent all his money on booze, just in case they needed gas money...just because he liked to party didn't mean he was a horrible person, or that he was going to end up killing himself. Although drinking himself to death was kind of plausible...he did drink a lot. And he did have many hang overs. He often joked around and said he'd never had a hang over, because he was always drunk...but it wasn't fuckin' true. Most of the time he slept in until noon hwen he could because of stupid hang overs. Damn good for nothing things. They were the only bad part of drinking, end of story. Although a bit of coffee could usually work wonders.
"How 'bout I buy you a drink when that one's gone?" He asked, looking her over, and licking his lips again. There was no denying that she was fuckin' hot, and pretty much his type down to detail. Blonde hair, pale skin, it was all there. And even though she was a good friend, and pretty damn hot, he'd never, ever consider dating her. That would just ruin things...because when he dated chicks he usually broke their heart, or somethin'. It was amazing just how many girls he cheated on, who he couldn't even remember doing whatever they, and the person he cheated with, both had proof that he had done. He didn't think it was fair how ladies always seemed to blame him for doin' stupid shit while he was drunk, but they did. Stupid girls. If it weren't for the fact that he loved boobs so much he probably would have been gay...no, not really. Even if Owen did fool around with guys in his mind that was all they were really good for. He wouldn't ever have a relationship with one, and he hadn't ever. And he hoped so badly that it stayed that way...even if he did claim bisexual he still couldn't imagine himself actually bein' in a relationship with a dude! Making out with one? Sure. Fucking one? Even better. Having a boyfriend? The thought was just odd. He knew that when he matured (haha, never gonna happen) that he'd eventually stop being into guys at all...well, he had a feeling that would happen. But for now he just wanted to go with the flow, and let his sexuality do as it may. He wanted no boundries when it came to such things. Life was so much funner without fences.
count; 1,142
outfit; click
tags; dee dee!
lyrics; snakes on a plane - cobra starship
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Post by Sumiko Airi Sato on Mar 27, 2009 3:16:58 GMT -5
DESTINYemmalineWHITNEY>>twetny>>loud>>crazyrated R for Language and Content-------Despite the heavy drinking, which got her into more trouble then she really cared to admin, Dee-Dee was not a druggie. Sure she party hard, but she had yet to take any form of illegal drugs. Hell she didn't even like taking cold medicine! The stuff just did not set well with her. She believed if you were meant to get better, then you would. Of course that only applied to the minor stuff, anything serious she was all for going to the doctors, no use trying to kill yourself now is there? Just because she didn't like taking medicine didn't mean she didn't want to live. She just wanted to leave with as less drugs in her system as possible. She was already killing her liver with all the drinking, why add on to the list of health problems she was sure to have when she got past this stage in her life. Besides all that, drugs tended to have a crash to them, which she had seen first hand through friends and simply did not want tha feeling. Thats what hangovers are for after all. Except hangovers can be cured by a little pill and coffee. And to avoid them by drinking lots of water while drinking alcohol, but who does that when one's trying to get their party thing on? Sure as hell wasn't Dee-Dee. She took whatever side effects as they come..In the morning.
Dee-Dee allowed her eyes to sieze Owen up. He was a party friend. One who knew just how to have fun, and not complain about how much she was consuming. He was a fine piece of eye candy, and for the most part that was all he would ever really be to her. Sure they had that whole one night stand, but did it count? She couldn't even remember what the hell had happened between them. She had woken up naked next him, their clothes, well were thrown everywhere. She was actually surprised none of her undergarments had been ripped in the process of the shredding of clothes. Generally when she was too drunk for her own good, and ended up haveing sex, her things were riped due to not being able to get the heck out of them fast enough for who ever it was' liking. Of course at the time, she didn't really care what they did because she was too drunk to care, but in the morning it pissed her off. What was she suppose to wear when her things were torn?, and she'd have to buy new things!
" Oh I'm sure we can ..." She let her eyes stroll down his body then back up at him, intently. " Come up with some kind of payment." Her voice dropped an octive, to a tone she knew many of the male population, and those few females, found sexy. Dee-Dee was a flirt, big time. Some would even go so far as to call her a tease. Dee-Dee didn't care what the hell they decided to call her, as long as it was slut. She had a thing against the word. She liked to have fun, to even screw a guy or two, but she wasn't a slut. She at least knew the guys she slept with before hand! Maybe not well, but hey, you can't be too picky. ' I wish I remembered, but damned if I can't, whether he was good in bed or not..' That would answer probably would make her decision on whether she wanted to repeat the action, only the next time a bit more sober.
Since coming on tour Dee-Dee had rarely called home, knowing her mother was always busy doing something. It wasn't that she didn't love her mother, she did, but things between them had grown a little tense since Dee-Dee had signed up for the tour. Her mother, while supportive, had wished her daughter had chosen to go to college, to persue a 'real' career. Before the whole band thing, Dee-Dee had wanted to become a teacher. Such a strange little dream now that she had thought about it. It was a career in which she would have had to be mostly sober for a big part of the time. Looking back on the last few months, she was not a hundred percent sure that she would not have been able to do that, like she thought she could in the first place. She could not even imagin haveing to be a dull teacher with no life. Not now, not after going on the tour, where there was always something to do somewhere. Sure she would have to slow her jets down in the future, but for now she was young and able, and full of life. Dee-Dee had heard from others that the life of a rock-star would start to drain the life out of her, and she was sure that was true, after all, it took so much effort to be in a band, perform the songs that had been practiced until her throat ached, The partying surely didn't help all that much, but it kept her loose, was how she escaped the stress. She showed up to the practices like it was a religion she cared about! Ok so she couldn't play a freaking instrument, she had a power voice! That was her instrument of choice.
" Ya know I can never pass up an offer like that. " She said with light laughter. While she had been on tour and her accent had been duilated somewhat, a person could easily tell she was from Texas just by her opening her mouth. She had a country accent, which had been almost beat out because she had an ear for accents and over time had picked up too many to really count. One thing about being on tour, it changed a person, from personality all the way down to how you speak. She hadn't realized this when she originally became apart of the tour, but now it was more evident. Her mother had told her that she was changing, but she never listened to her mother, just laughed it off and said it was just because they hadn't seen each other that it seemed like she was changing. Dee-Dee would never admit it to herself, or anyone else, but she was a little fearful of the way she was leading her life. One day she would find herself in a situation she wouldn't be able to dig herself out of, and then what? How would she get herself out of that? The obvious answer was her friends, but she wasn't sure she would call on them if she dug a whole too steep to get out. Dee-Dee was a loyal friend who didn't want to see her friends lives be pulled down because of her. She wanted them to have great lives, even if that seemed a bit far fetched at this time. Many of her friends she wasn't sure why they were friends with her. They were so different, like fire and ice, yet they were her life. Her everything. All she had in the world was her mother, and her friends. No aunts, cousins. No anything.
Dee-Dee had never been one to seriously date a guy. She just wasn't into the slowing down dating just one person thing. She liked to have too much fun for a boyfriend to work out. He would probably get jealous over her, want her to stop partying, to slow down a bit, to be completely sober all the time. The most Dee-Dee ever did was causually date someone. No strings, no expections, but perhaps a nice little tumble in the bed. With Owen, Dee-Dee knew she could trust him not to expect anything of her, and to still somewhat respect her, however small that might be. Dee-Dee's knowledge of Owen consisted of knowing he didn't really do the dating thing, mostly because he had troubles being faithful, and he was into both chicks and dudes. The fact that he was also in a band was pretty much a given knownledge. Band people tended to bunch in groups, strangely enough. Even if they weren't in the SAME band! It was funny, really, or perhaps that was the small bit of alcohol starting to losing her up a bit. She took a rather big sip of her drunk. She wasn't there to impress people by how 'girly' she could be, so why pretend to go down that road. Owen, of all people, knew how much she drank, and how utterly wild she got when she had had one too many drinks. " Scope anyone out yet? Other than myself of course." She questioned. Dee-Dee herself hadn't been there long enough to actually check out anyone particular person, but it didn't take her long to realize that there were one to many guys out who just could not dance to save their life. She found that rather comical, even if she didn't down right laugh out loud about it.
A big turn off for Dee-Dee, when it came to hooking up with guys at a club, was bad dancing. Dancing, in her mind, was like foreplay. It should arouse her to some degree. A guy with bad moves was probably horrible in bed and there for not worth the effort of talking to, let alone dance with. Dee-Dee generally watched the crowd for the first drink or two, then after that, after she had watched for the guys who knew what they were doing, she would join them. She freely admitted that she liked to grind up against someone, even liked it when she could feel his penis growing hard against her back. It was a major turn on. To know she could turn a guy on just by dancing was like an aphrodisica for Dee-Dee. Much more so then chocolate could ever be. That, by the way, was something she never understand. How could anyone consider chocolate a aphrodisica? Girls ate chocolate to drown out their feelings over guys, so why would that turn them out? It made absolutely no sense to Dee-Dee. ' And the fact that I'm thinking about this must mean I need to get laid and quickly!' She thought rather amusingly to herself.
The last time she had gotten any form of action had been practically a month ago. Or maybe it just felt that long. With the band things going on, there just seemed to be less and less time for her to actually get laid. If by some miracle she didn't pass out before hand, or thrown up on the guy, then she had band practice too early and couldn't even party that night. Such cases made her rather sad, but it was the kind of sad that held absolutely no effect on her. She would always be known for being loud, wild, a real party-goer, and even if she were actually really sad, she wouldn't show it. She was considered a happy go lucky person, and she wouldn't change peoples' view of that just for a quick cry. It was stupid, a waste of time. Besides who wanted to be around a sad person? They weren't fun, they brought everything down, down down!! If clowns weren't so damn scary, she'd say they had about the right idea. Make people smile, make them laugh. Of course, no one really liked clowns, but whatever. People liked her and that was what mattered to her.
Dee-Dee hated not being like. It was like a small part of her strived to be popular, to be well liked by all. It was like she was an attention whore, except she didn't really care to be the center of attention... Just liked is all. There were people, many of them in fact, that didn't like Dee-Dee, and to those people she just would tell them to fuck off. She didn't need haters!
Word Count: 2077 [/size] |
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Post by owen michael mills on Mar 27, 2009 11:57:26 GMT -5
So kiss me goodbye!
Honey I'm gonna make it out alive. --------------------------[/center] This was one of the many reasons Owen liked Dee Dee so much. She was a flirt, but she wasn't serious about any of it. It was fucking amazing! She wasn't one of those bitches who thought that just because he flirted with them he wanted to marry them, or some shit. Yeah, some girls were like that. Obsessive, possessive, call them what you may, Owen wanted nothing to do with them. Odd as it may be Owen was more into the slutty girls, the ones who would jump into his pants with one word, then want nothing to do with him unless it was a rainy day and they had nothing, or no one, better to do. It was a hard lifestyle, but somebody had to have it, did they not? And Owen was happy that he was that somebody. Happy that out of everyone on tour he was known as the man whore, the party guy, one of the most out of control and yet in control people. Of course most everybody didn't quite understand that he was actually in control...probably because even though he told himself he was, he kind of wasn't. Even if he made it to practices, and shows, he still had to party to feel right. To feel alive, even. He couldn't really go five minutes without a cigarette...well, he could, but only if he was drinking, or had his mind on something else. Like drumming. If it weren't for the fact that he had something to take his mind off life he would probably have lung cancer...and drumming was that something. Whoever the hell invented drums really needed to be thanked by Owen...but he knew they were probably dead. It was just too bad, because they were also his savior.
His lips couldn't control themselves as they turned up in a little smirk at her voice. He didn't miss that she had obviously checked him out...and of course he understood why she did. Being the vain guy he had been since forever he considered himself a total sex god. He knew he was good in bed, he knew he was probably one of the best, and people told him so often. Of course he was also kind of rough...a little wild...but even whilst drunk out of his mind he still knew how to make just about anyone scream his name. Or, considering that he usually slept with slutty chicks who couldn't remember his name, they'd scream some random name that they could remember...he'd been called Alex three times in the last week. At least. Actually, he had no clue why the name Alex was so fuckin' popular. Did he look like an Alex or something? he'd have to ask the next person who called him by that name, if he remembered. Which he probably wouldn't, as being Owen he had trouble remembering his Owen name sometimes. Luckily he had it written on his underwear, so he could always just have someone check.
Oh I'm sure we can ...come up with some kind of payement' he heard her say in her flirtacious voice.
"I have a couple things in mind." He said, grinning widely. Of course he couldn't remember if she was good in bed either...but he was just gonna assume she was. Not that he really cared, she was just one of the many he slept with. It was actually surprising that he didn't have some kinda STD, but he'd been checked just a week ago, and he was clean. Thank god. If he somehow were to end up with AIDs or something, well...he'd probably have some kind of break down. Then again, maybe he'd learn his lesson...of course it would be too late, and there wouldn't be much he could do about it, but he would have learned his lesson about partying, about drinking, about too much casual sex. All he really needed was a wake up call...but knowing Owen even if he got one he wouldn't do anything. He'd tell whoever were to say it to fuck off, even if they did have a point. he was in a rock band. Wasn't rock n' roll all about sex, and drinking? He was always most inspired musically when he was drank, or after he'd had sex. The few songs he'd written had been about sex. One being about the tattoo on the inner thigh of some girl he'd hooked up with who went by the name of Sophia, and the other about the strangest possition he had ever been in, with some Russian girl...only the first one was any good, but it was amazing, anyone would have to openly admit it. It had even made it onto one of the bands CD's. It was also very confusing, with many metaphors, but the lyrics were beautiful. And pretty much the only good thing he'd ever been able to write in his life. He wasn't an artist as much as a preformer. I mean, sure, he was an amazing drummer, but half of what made him so amazing was that he could toss his drum sticks, do a back flip, and land in time to catch them. Hey, it had happened once...and that one time he had been completely drunk. Sadly no one managed to get it on tape, and it was only during a practice. He never did shows drunk. He got drunk after them, always, but never did he do a show drunk. Even if things always sounded better drunk he got even wilder drunk...he could see himself smashing his drum heads up to all hell, or something of the sort, and while that wasn't so bad during practice during a show it would cause mahem. Or maybe he would even kick a hole in one of them...that had also happened before, in the heat of the moment.
Another one of the many things that was appealing about Dee Dee to owen was her accent. Country accents were always hot, and Texas was at the top of the list in Owen's opinino. Of course he had a light Brooklyn accent...one that became even more prominent when he drank, or when he had sex. Everything was always better when alcohol, including his accent. Probably because it allowed him to cut loose, and be himself. Thinking about it he finished off his drink, then looked around for the bartender. Useless fuckin' bartender who was more interested in getting some ass then giving payin' customers their drinks. He could have always asked Dee Dee to flag him down, using the magical powers that females were given; boobs. They had to easy...guys had to use their smiles, or rip their shirts off to reveal their body, but all girls had to do was unbotton their shirt and BAM, they got whatever the fuck they wanted. It wasn't right, it wasn't right at all.
"Hey Bartender!" He yelled loudly, spotting him flirting with some girl who was clearly underage...bastard. She looked only seventeen. Not that Owen had much room to talk, but still. God. Not in public! "Get you're ass over here and give me another colada before I get you're ass fired." He refrained from adding do you know who I am?! I'm Owen Mills!' for fear of sounding like a complete and utter loser. Not that Owen gave a fuck what he sounded like...he loved his haters even more than he loved his fans, sometimes even more than he loves his friends. Sometimes. They were the ones who got him known; the ones who got him in magazines. The people who loved him, they were cool, but they weren't gonna get him fame, now were they? Nope, not at all.
Luckily for Owen the bartender walked away from the jail bait, threw him a glare (which Owen returned with a cocky grin), and started making his drink. Two words that Owen was called more than anything else; cocky and bastard. It was cool, though, because he happened to agree with both insults completely. They weren't even insults anymore, as much as nick names. When his drink finally appeared in front of him he threw the same amount he threw the first time, and took a gulp of his drink, savoring the taste as the coolness of it slid down his throat. even if he was a douche the guy knew how to make drinks. Not that Owen was gonna thank him or anything...he was doin' his fuckin' job, no need to thank him for nothin'. Or at least that was how Owen saw it. No one ever thanked him for playing the drums...and he didn't care. It was his chosen profession. The screaming of the crowd was enough thanks, in his opinion.
'Scope anyone out yet? Other than myself of course.'
Her words floated into his brain, knocking out all of his thoughts that had been so consuming that he honestly wouldn't have heard her if not for the fact that he had been half listening. And of course because she said the word scope...which Owen had obviously done the first second he stepped into the place. "Well, I saw some short blonde chick when I first walked in, but it seems she's hiding from me..." he said, his voice joking, although it was true...and she was probably no older than the girl that the man at the bar had been flirting with. But Owen saw nothing wrong with fucking those who were underage. Well, a little underage. Seventeen? Great. Sixteen? It would depend. If they had some crazy dad, then fuck no. He was through with bein' yelled at by crazy over protect dads. Mhmmm. It had happened enough in his life. "Don't know why the hell she's hidin' from me though. I mean, who wouldn't want a piece of this? I know I would if I could." He was still grinning his cocky grin, and it was completely true, and he knew Dee Dee would know it. He wasn't quiet about the fact that he loved himself more than he loved anyone else. His vain-ness was no secret, and he didn't give a fuck. As I've stated before Owen prefered being hated to being liked...always had, probably always would. Well, maybe not when he was old and senile, or maybe not when he finally settled down...
but will you ever settle down? he asked himself, the voice in his head sounding nervous. He didn't want to settle down...and yet he did, more than anything. It was so confusing! Part of him wanted to find a nice little lady to make love to and marry and have a million little kids runnin' around. While a bigger part of him wanted to be single and partyin' and fuckin' at the age of ninety. if you ever live that long... he added, frowning mentally. Would he die? Would he end up being killed by some drunk guy he pissed off? Would he get lung cancer? Would he get drunk and do something stupid that killed him? He didn't know. But he shook the thoughts about. He wanted to party, damn it, not think about his own death, and future, and all those other things he tried to steer clear away from! Gr.
Of course Owen wasn't desperate for sex...he had fucked some pretty little blonde whore just the night before. Of course she wasn't literally a whore, he didn't think...he hadn't had to pay her, or anything like that. But maybe she was, and just decided to let him have it for free, since he was so good in bed. She kinda dressed like a whore, in her mini skirt and fish net leggings...but many females dressed like that now a days, much to Owen's pleasure.
count; 2135 w/ coding
notes; huffah! I finally made my goal! thank you!
status; finished!
outfit; click
tags; dee dee!
lyrics; snakes on a plane - cobra starship
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Post by Sumiko Airi Sato on Mar 29, 2009 16:36:21 GMT -5
DESTINYemmalineWHITNEY>>twetny>>loud>>crazyrated R for Language & scenary------- Owen was the kind of guy that really grew on you. Many, Dee-Dee was sure, didn't like him, but Dee-Dee had always had a blast with him. He was the kind of guy who she could easily flirt with, and either something happened or nothing did, it was whatever between them. Neither cared to go into relationships, which made it perfect for them to just chillax, flirt, and if the one night stand ever repeated self, that too. While she wanted to have a meaningful relationship at some point in her life, it wasn't now, and it would never be with Owen. The two were just a little too alike for Dee-Dee's tastes. She didn't want someone who was just the male version of herself. She wanted someone who was different. She wanted passion, angry, and most of all, great sex.
The way Dee-Dee figured it, she was young, too young to even think about slowing down, getting caught up with a guy. And then there was her career. Singing was an outlet that she couldn't see herself ever given up, even if the band decided to split. She would always sing, either to herself, or she'd join some damn church to get her singing done. She wasn't particular on where and when, so much as she was able to continue what she loved to do. Sure she hoped like all hell that Keep It Caroline didn't break up, but things like that happened. Bands rarely lasted forever now-a-days. It was a sad fact that everyone in this business had to come to terms with at one time or another.
" Well do share, Owen, don't keep me waiting." She said to him. Her friendship with Owen was easy, didn't take much effort. Of course that was probably because they were mostly party friends, and there for didn't really lean on each other for support. It was the kind of friendship Dee-Dee figured she needed more of, even if that wasn't true. Her close friends she was so emotionally tied to them it wasn't funny. She couldn't picture ever being without them. It would surely be a black day for her. Of course, she would always have her mother, but who wanted to have their mother be their whole world of friendships? That was just a little to weird to think about. Dee-Dee downed her drink down, more then ready to start feeling the buzz, to get that tipsy feeling. Being sober just made her think too much.
She laughed as she watched Owen try to flag down the bartender. It would have been much simplier had Owen just asked her to call the horny bartender over, after all she did have boobs. " I'll take whatever the house beer is. " She ordered, raising her voice above the noise when the bartender had taken Owen's order. She would start like before she got into the hard liquors, as she always did. She liked to remember some of the night after all. The good, the bad, the sad, the overly dramatic, all of it.
" Perhaps she just can't handle someone as sexy as you. Or perhaps she needs some encouragement... " She commented. She herself had not spotted a single looker, other then Owen, when she had walked in and come through the dancefloor to the bar area. Most of what she saw could not dance for shit, sad as that was. She hadn't even seen a single good looking guy, once again, except for Owen. It was sad really, but it was still early out, and after a few more drinks she wouldn't even be able to tell who was hot and who was not.
Word Count: 648
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Post by owen michael mills on Mar 30, 2009 12:44:27 GMT -5
So kiss me goodbye!
Honey I'm gonna make it out alive. --------------------------[/center] Owen knew he would probably never settle down, and sadly enough he didn't even care. Thoughts of marriage made him twitch. He'd never had any particularly successful relationships, or anything like that. Probably because he simply couldn't date someone without cheating on them...even if it wasn't always his fault. He liked to blame things on alcohol, or the women who threw themselves at him. It was amazing how much blame he liked to put on his two favorite things on earth...but it always helped him to get out of trouble. Actually, not really. His last girlfriend had gotten pissed at him when he cheated on her, and she had gotten even more pissed when Owen blamed it on the alcohol. Not that he cared. That relationship had been a dud...much like all of his relationships. No matter how hard he tried he just wasn't a good boyfriend. Hell, he was hardly a good friend. He was a cool guy to hang out with, even funner to party with, but his true friends were sparse and few. And even if he told everyone that he didn't need anyone other than a bottle of rum and his drum sticks, and possibly his band members, he really didn't think a few friends would hurt.
Well do share, Owen, don't keep me waiting a smirked formed on the guys lips as he heard this come out of his friend's mouth. "It may not be polite to keep a lady waiting...but I'm not a very polite guy. You know that." he said, with a bit of a shrug. In truth he didn't really have any ideas in particular. sure, Dee Dee was great to flirt with, and they'd had sex once, but oddly enough he wasn't really interested in leading her on. Not on this night. Even if he wasn't in a particularly odd mood, he also wasn't in the mood to hook up with someone he considered a friend, or even talk about it. And he did consider Dee Dee a friend. Not a close friend, but a friend nonetheless.
Owen wasn't one to start out slow, or fast, he just drank whatever the fuck he wanted. But he knew that was how Dee Dee liked to do it. He also knew that if he gave her a little while she'd be doing shots, and completely drunk off her ass. She was, after all, Dee Dee, and almost as out of control as he was. Not in a bad way, though, that's not how he meant it. when people called him out of control it was usually with an eye roll, but had Owen decided to say that to her it would probably be with one of his many cocky grins, or at least a little smirk, or maybe even a laugh depending on how much he had drank.
"She's probably admiring me afar, like some little stalker chick." He joked, although that would certainly be creepy. It'd probably turn him off her completely, so he'd have to find someone new to pursue. Or maybe he would go without sex. It didn't really matter to him much on this night...it wasn't like he was desperate. Owen Mills was never desperate! He could get some with the snap of a finger, he could probably get anyone, or so he liked to think. He was tall, handsome, and he liked to think he had the dark stranger bad boy thing going on...he probably didn't.
count; 610
status; finished!
outfit; click
tags; dee dee!
lyrics; snakes on a plane - cobra starship
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