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Post by cole on Jun 8, 2010 19:08:32 GMT -5
There was nothing scary about Philadelphia. Cole had done the whole big scary city thing time and time again. He lived in New York, and although his residence might have been in Albany he’d frequented a lot of other places that were a lot less safe. Lacy, as an example, really liked shopping in New York City and had a knack for finding the shadiest spots with the best prices, and of course she would force Cole to drag along behind her, pulling him by the hand the whole way. He figured out a long time ago the key to making yourself not look like a potential target for someone else’s next random act of violence, theft or otherwise unsavory act was to act like you belonged. Being a freshman and living in a new city by himself didn’t bother Cole at all and it was probably one of the only things he had going for him.
That and a particularly lucky day at the 7-Eleven. When did they ever have Mountain Dew Voltage flavored Slurpees anymore? Cole hadn’t seen all summer long back home and they had been his absolute favorite. Lacey used to say he always tasted a bit like raspberry when they took day trips outside of Albany (because sadly there were no 7-Eleven stores there) and he needed to lay off the caffeinated beverages but that had only lasted a week before Cole had picked up his regular habit. During school months there was a similar store on his path from school to home that he would frequent but it wasn’t quite as good in the Slurpee department. So Cole was quite glad to discover his coveted convenience store located in the city he was to call home for the rest of the year and possibly three more if all went well after this one.
Despite all the connections between his ex-girlfriend and the store he was walking out of, Cole didn’t seem to have a particularly dampened mood of any sort. In fact, he seemed quite alright, if a bit bored. Squinting at the sun that seemed to amplify in brightness through the reflection in his glasses, Cole turned his head toward the ground. It was September but it still felt like summer time, and it was one of those rare August days when anyone would believe they were back in July, before school started, having the time of their lives. It seemed like all summer long there were endless things to do but as soon as he unpacked his things in his dorm room there was nothing but wandering and the internet (and even the latter was impossible to do, because he and his roommate had somehow blown a fuse and he had to buy some kind of adapter to even get their lights back, one of his goals for today).
To get a little inspiration, or to find someone to tell him what to do with his day, Cole pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and took a quick glimpse down the list of contacts. He’d met a few people already with freshman orientation and accidentally bashing into others in the hallways at the dormitory (such a formal way to greet one another) but he didn’t see anyone he particularly wanted to call up and force his company upon. Maybe that was because he just didn’t want to be a burden. Always being the burden was such a downer, especially when you were that guy that everyone thought to be the extra wheel. That was no way to start a year long stay in a strange place, afraid or unafraid. So for now he was stuck, a Slurpee in one hand and the sun blocking out most of his vision of the street.
Well, shit.
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[/b][/color] - 634 TAG[/color] - Wide open. LYRICS[/color] - “Wasted” - Goldfinger NOTES[/color] - Urhm. BEHOLD THE SUCK![/ul][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify] |
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Post by bentley16 on Jun 8, 2010 22:04:06 GMT -5
 Philadelphia was nothing compared to the other cities that she has visited and lived in. It was a city that at times, Sloane felt was one of the worse cities America had to offer. Then there was some days were it seem to surprise her. The one day that she was pleasantly surprised by Philly was when she discovered the azalea gardens nestled behind the art museum. She really could not place on her finger what she was doing in the Fairmount area. Maybe it was because she was looking for a place to sketch that was near the Waterworks or maybe it was just to lounge in the sun. But, she came across this beautiful garden with some amazing sights. It was like all of these colors were jumping out at her left and right. She decided to bathe under this one azalea bush and sort of people watch.
Most people never really confess to people watching. Their reason for it usually is because they do not want to come off as a weirdo. However, Sloane is not one to shy away from her weird tendencies. She can find a story in just the body language that two people exude to the outside world. You can see someone just sitting on the park bench and there might be a whole story that can be told right there.
In a place like Philadelphia, it can be seen as a naked city, there about a million stories that can be told. Coming from London and Oxford, Sloane was keen to not come off as a snobbish Brit. When she went to stores, she did have people fawning over her accent. She also got a lot of dumb questions like if she knew the Queen or Prince William. She was just part of the British nobility, she had met the woman, but that did not mean they were Facebook friends. Sloane also could not understand other things that Americans did like stand “in line” or “take a shower”. She would always ask herself quizzical, where are these people taking the shower to. But, when she came to the States, she was keen to discover parts of it she never thought she would see. She was going to discover the stories that needed to be told in Philadelphia.
That is how she found herself on the Broad Street line that one afternoon, heading up to Northern Philadelphia. Snap There was a picture of a man leaning up against the back door of the subway car. Snap There was another picture of the station sign as the train rattled along to it’s destination. Northern Philly was in a mesh of gentrification and anybody would be blind if they were unable to see it. There were residents who had been there for eternity and they now had to share their local bodega with a new white hipster fresh from some Ivory tower. Sloane should not be quick to judge because these invaders were cut from the same cloth as she was. But, she tended to hide her true identity a little bit better. When she stepped off the platform and onto the semi-busy street, a few things caught her attention. 7-Eleven The convenience store seemed to jump out to the naïve European and she was drawn to it. Not for it’s oddity, they had similar stores like this back home but she needed a pen and her mouth was a bit parched.
And that is when she saw him, a guy sitting on the bench with some sort of Slurpee. He looked familiar, Sloane had a photographic memory and could pick people out a line-up, she had seen that guy somewhere. Maybe in one of her classes back at Emerson, but what was he doing all the way out here. She couldn’t ask that because someone could ask the same of her. As she crossed the street, blocking out the sun the best that she could, she walked by him, and casually said:
”The sun is bloody right.” she said with her trans-Atlantic accent, ”Oh crap, you wouldn’t understand that, whatever.”
After she completely flustered herself, well she probably doesn’t look fluster, but she feels it inside. She kept a calm exterior for the crowd, she said with a smile: ”Ummm, do you go to Emerson ?
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