And I never want to let you down... - [Closed/May]

[Charley Brighty]

Tradition can mean any number of things, sometimes it simply means that something routine has been done that many times throughout history it becomes tradition, things like mistletoe and ivy are traditional at Christmas, the giving of chocolate eggs at Easter and saying ‘bless you’ after someone sneezes. They become so automatic that they become a tradition, but then there are other things that are traditional, like perhaps a traditional family holiday once a year to a certain place where there are memories of growing up and exciting or unpleasant experiences that people fondly recall. It was also often used as a good excuse to make people do something they didn’t really want to do, because if they didn’t someone would whine at them and say ‘Oh go on, it’s traditional.’ And grudgingly you’d find yourself actually doing it. Nearly every family and every individual had a tradition of some sort, some had more than others, some were stranger than others. One of Charley’s traditions was a pretty normal sort of one really compared to some, well he had a few strange traditions but this one wasn’t one of them. It had, over the space of maybe a year or so, become a tradition for him to meet up with an old student at Gigi’s Café over a coffee and the occasional muffin or other snack.

He’d first met Brielle DiBenedetto during his classes, she’d been a very good student because she listened so intently to what he said and any advice he ever gave her, she seemed to absorb what he said like a sponge, which is the sort of thing a teacher likes to see. It wasn’t long though until he became aware that she hung around after classes and was there before class started sometimes, and after school was out she would turn up at his door to clean up the classroom. At first he just presumed she liked music a lot, or she was trying to drop a subtle hint that his room was filthy and needed cleaning up and he ought to get his act together. But neither of that turned out to be right when he happened to be passing through a class that his colleague Jayden Kinkade was teaching, she wasn’t paying half as much attention and immediately his suspicions began to edge towards it being something else. Which seemed right the more he thought about it, she seemed easily flustered when he gave her tips in her singing lessons with him and if he was trying to guide her to doing something he was aware that she seemed to get embarrassed, and she didn’t around Jayden. Charley might have been an enthusiastic high on life sort of person who sometimes wore odd socks and didn’t seem to notice until someone pointed it out when he sat down but it did seem quite obvious. And at first, with her age being what it was he passed it off as just being one of those things. At the time he was new to teaching and didn’t have a clue how to handle that sort of thing anyway, he was just aware it would be totally inappropriate to say anything about it or act on anything. Then of course over the years which he taught her, and the amount of time she spent hanging around his classroom he started talking to her, because he couldn’t not talk to people, and they became quite good friends. The older she got and the fact that she never changed around him made him think that whatever the passing fancy was…it wasn’t actually passing. And alarmingly as she was growing older he realised he’d actually become incredibly fond of her as a person and looked forwards to talking to her. Even so, he wasn’t about to suddenly drop everything and do something really stupid.

After all he didn’t like the idea of having something more than friendship with a student, not only would he lose his job but that would stay with her for the rest of her life if it was revealed, she would no doubt be transferred and it just wouldn’t work. It didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends though. Eventually it was her last year but he was happy to hear she would be sticking around the area, and he would often go and talk to her when she picked up her younger brother. It seemed old habits died hard because it wasn’t long until his room started smelling like lemon and lilies again and she continued to pop around to clean up. Not being a student anymore meant there was nothing that stood in the way anyway, so he asked her if she wanted to go for a coffee with him and since then it seemed that every week or so they would meet up at Gigi’s usually at noon on a Saturday and have a coffee, or a hot chocolate, sitting and talking for ages and losing half a day at it. Charley could talk for the country but Bri more than held up her end of the conversation and he found her amusing and even with their slight age difference that they managed to meet somewhere in the middle. He liked when he had to meet up with her.

Today was in fact Saturday. And Charley was late. Well he was never great at time keeping really, he was the sort of guy who said I’ll turn up and six and you knew what he really meant was half past seven…and you’d be right. His time keeping was completely out the window, and it probably didn’t help that his watch was running low on battery power so though out the day it would slow down and he’d have to try to guess what the actual time was. Although he wasn’t usually late on a Saturday, he’d got so used to going there it sort of became auto pilot for him, what exactly had he been doing today that made him late? Well it had all gone wrong today, he’d bought a piano from a little shop just outside of town, it was a beaten up old thing with broken and chipped notes, couldn’t play a single note and had a pedal missing. He’d paid a fiver for it and the guy had been more than happy to be rid of it that he said he’d deliver it. But it seemed he’d run out of petrol because his van was old and the needle on the fuel gage had broken. Charley had had to drive out, pick up some gas and go and rescue the man. Charley hadn’t been able to express the fact that he was in fact meeting someone in less than a half hour and the piano was just sat on the side of the highway. The old man seemed non-plussed as to him the piano was just a hunk of firewood. Charley however viewed it as a piece of history, it was a beautiful. He had a bit of a thing for old beaten up pianos, he liked getting them restored and selling them on to people who really needed them but couldn’t afford something brand new. Eventually, at twenty past twelve the van rolled up and the piano was offloaded and wheeled into the hallway, Charley then did his best in his own polite way to usher the man out and send him on his way, he then eyed up the piano, grabbed his jacket and left. Realised he had no money on him and had left his keys on the side, had to run to the neighbours to get the spare key to get his keys back and his wallet. Finally at twenty to one he managed to make it.

Unlike some people though, Charley wasn’t the sort of person who checked what he looked like before he left the house. Charley was the sort of person who turned up, met whoever he was supposed to meet and then thought…oh dear, I never checked a mirror and spent the rest of the time trying to casually make sure his wild hair was less…wild. It was however exactly that, but even if he did try to do something with it still looked the same. It was untamed, dark brown and curly and often fell in front of his eyes, it suited his personality perfectly. On the street it could easily be noticed that he was without a doubt the tallest person around, he stood a toweringly lanky six foot three and what didn’t help was the fact that his clothing did nothing to hide height or even to make him blend in. It was in your face bright and completely mismatched in a sort of style that said it looked like he was trying to make a statement to the fashion world such as; ‘Up yours mate’. Which was about right because Charley didn’t care what people though, nothing anyone ever said to him would ever make him not be himself, no matter how quirky or strange people saw him as. That was who he was and he wouldn’t give it up for anyone, today he almost looked normal, there were a pair of jeans, hanging together by threads and some old sneakers, he had a green v-neck jumper on, a sort of dark lime coloured green with something light grey underneath it that seemed to clash but on the whole looks about right, over the top was a brown jacket and hanging around his neck were several or more things that he obviously needed to remember because they were on lanyards and there was a small silver alien key ring dangling there too. It was probably best not to ask really. He really looked as though he’d just fallen out of bed, rolled across the floor into whatever happened to stick to him and had then fallen in a hedge on the way here. The only thing missing were twigs in his hair. He looked about as cheerful as usual though considering he was late, but then he rarely ever was down or didn’t look cheerful, he just sort of exuded an air of cheerfulness that infected people around him.

Okay late…remember to apologise. Charley took a breath and then entered the coffee shop, he really did ought to apologise profusely, he was nearly an hour late. However as he entered and the bell over the door tinkled he couldn’t actually see her anywhere sat down, which meant either she was late too and amazingly he’d arrived first and had completely just got away with it or else she had given up and left already, which he hoped not, he didn’t want to let her down. He walked slowly across the café towards the cashiers desk, glancing across the room to see if on a second look she was there, still couldn’t see her, but there were quite afew peple in there and he couldn;t see past all of them. He reached the till and was still glancing around as he ordered a black coffee, the caffeine would probably send him off the edge but to be honest he couldn’t really get much worse anyway, before drawing his attention away from the rest of the café and towards the youth who had just taken his order with a friendly smile…

((Sorry it took so long, I had to go get my dinner!
*Nods*
And figured I’d leave it open so she could either be late or him just be totally blind, lol.))

[MAYDAY]

[hehe, it's alright. i understand. ^_^]

[Brielle DiBenedetto]

It was just like any other day like in autumn when the leaves turn a crispy golden brown and fall from the tree. Their tradition started just like any other day, just like this day. Brielle's family held their own tradition of making homemade ravioli every Christmas Eve night just like everybody puts a pine tree up and sings carols all night long. It was about a year ago when the infamous Charley and Bri tradition started. Charley Brightly -- Brielle's old music professor -- had asked her if she wanted to get coffee with him. At that point of time she probably just about had cardiac arrest but now her schoolgirl crush that burned for him smoldered into a soft glowing flame. That's how their never ending quest for the sweet taste of coffee set out to be. Everyday from now they would meet after school let out and they'd go out for a steaming hot drink. It hasn't changed except their tee-shirts, jeans and trainers.

Brielle DiBenedetto was first introduced to Charley Brightly one day during class. He was a professor that had just transferred to her high school. She had never had a passion for music until he had finally arrived at her school. Partly, because he made the music lessons actually interesting and Brielle developed a fancy for him which was illegal at her age. She would try harder on singing and practiced playing the piano during her individual lessons with him. Soon, it became a weekly tradition to come into his office and even clean it up for him. While doing so, she would often read her language arts book to him. It was a rather unfortunate year when she had to read Lolita for her junior year. During that whole entire time she tripped over words and hid her tomato-colored face with the book. Bri even knew it was a very inappropriate book and even decided against reading it. She often became flustered and just walked off with a wave. It was all she could do from crying out from humility. Soon; the older she got, the more closer the two got. She often came in after school everyday in her school uniform and cleaned his white board and office. It went on like this for the rest of her senior year until she graduated as a seventeen year old. During the summer she finally turned into an adult; she was finally proclaimed as a eighteen year old by her mother.

It was a rather busy day at Betsey's Diner ever since it had reached the end of winter and the snow began to melt with the waking sun bright in the sky. Brielle DiBenedetto had been caught with the duty of filling in the missing waitress and working overtime. Now, the redhead was not the best on rollerskates. She ended up dropping three trays full of food and drinks on the floor, table and most importantly herself. Now, her favorite lightly blue shirt had a giant grape colored stain on it and it smelt of deep fried fish. It was not her best day; let's just put it that way. She watched as the other waitresses gracefully skated their way to tables with heavy trays filled to the brim with food. She cursed the sick waitress in her mind and went to the bathroom to try to wash out her stain. After half an hour of scrubbing, the purple spot had faded but gotten bigger. The Italian groaned and punched out to leave for Gigi's. Brielle was late this time; she just hoped Charley wasn't waiting for quite a while. It would be a bitch if he was sitting there for an hour. She knew she'd get paid more but it didn't seem fair for Charley who was probably waiting. Brielle DiBenedetto had originally been hired as a bus girl who supposed to wash dishes. She had gotten sick of washing plates and cleaning off dirty sthingys but she figured it was better than being a clumsy waitress.

The soles of her patent leather ballerina flats were weaing down, her pants had two holes at the knees, her burnt orange hair was a shockingly mess, and her shirt had a giant purple stain on it. Brielle -- just by looking at herself -- was conviced that she was in a fight if she didn't know any better. Her feet fell like they were going to fall off due to the pinching of size five rollerskates [she was really a size seven]. It didn't seem to help that she was walking during on of the busiest days of the week. She frequently got leering stares as she trudged on hurt feet to her destination. When she finally got to Gigi's Cafe, a older man held the door open for her. She spotted Charley the instant she walked in with squinted eyes. He seemed to already have his cup of coffee. Brielle all of a sudden felt her eyes drop to the floor; she knew he was waiting for quite a while. If only her boss didn't want her to waitress that day it would be fine. She wouldn't have to wear uncomfortable skates and she wouldn't have to look like a fool.

She slowly walked over to his table and took a seat across from him. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she was certain he didn't want to hear about her lovely day at work at this point of time. "I sort of got caught up." Brielle gave him a half-hearted smile and used her finger to trace invisible circles onto the table. Right now, she was just about dying for caffeine or even something stronger but the Italian knew if she had alcohol she would just march up to her boss and smack him across the face.

[done!]

[Charley Brighty]

It was just as Charley seated himself down that he heard the door go and Brielle walked in, now that was a narrow escape. Although if she was late too he guessed he was glad that the little old van driver had had so many problems. Not that he would have been annoyed if he’d had to wait an hour, he wouldn’t have just sat there on his own, Charley was the sort of person who would have made a passing comment to someone and then ended up in a long conversation with them. He found making friends far, far easier now than he ever had done growing up, countless little problems had made him awkward and made him seem unfriendly or not the sort of person you’d ever want to trust. But with it all passed by he was evidently enjoying life without to many serious struggles. But as it turned out they’d both been late, a funny little coincidence and at least neither of them had had to wait around for long which was always good. He smiled warmly at her as she headed towards him, and took a seat. She apologised for being late which made him feel a momentary pang of guilt for this, but Charley being his typical self decided to wind her up, albeit briefly, about this because he just couldn’t help himself.

“No no, its fine, I’ve only been waiting here for an hour...” He made a show of tapping his watch which was showing the completely wrong time and then grinned jokingly, “Honestly though…I actually just sat down.” He admitted with a smile. “There was a bit of a problem with a piano and an old man with gas…petrol.” He added hastily after having realised his slip back to his teenage years in the US had just made that sentence sound extremely wrong, “I mean he didn’t have gas-petrol. Which was the problem. I should probably try rephrasing that entire sentence again.” Charley chuckled, he hadn’t sounded as though he’d just said something embarrassing or been awkward about it, he had just continued talking in the manner that Charley often did; digging himself into a deeper hole and being downright cheerful about it.

He had spent much of his past that he could remember in America, England had held too many unpleasant memories for his mother so she had taken a promotion and they had moved over there. He had been born in England but at eleven himself and his mother started a brand new life in Florida where Charley attended school until he graduated and went on to do teacher training. A programme which returned him to England for some time, he realised how much he had missed his home country and after having finished his course had remained in London to take on a position offered to him by Lockwood Academy. As it was because he had moved around so much his accent was unidentifiable, it was a sort of strange mix between an upper class British accent and an American one, he would finish certain words off making them sound American but he would pronounce others words with a strong London accent and as so he quite often slipped back to calling things what he had called them for many years. Gas was a good example, he kept having to remember to call them petrol stations over here and the same with certain slang words that he had grown unfamiliar with from being away from them for so long. As though he didn’t already have a quirky enough personality his voice added to it too. There were other little quirky things about his voice too, like the fact that he had no problem teaching girls how to sing because he could get just as high as many of them and didn’t have to sing an octave lower than they did. If a song was written for a female voice, he would sing it as such. It seemed to weird some kids out when they first heard him just bang out a tune on the piano and sing like that but after the initial shock they realised it wasn’t an infectious disease and he was in fact normal. Ish.

It was obvious by the exhausted air that she had sat down at the table with that she wasn’t having such a good day, it was why he hadn’t continued to wind her up. Unlike many people Charley knew exactly when to draw the line so he didn’t annoy or upset people by winding them up a little. He knew she worked at Betsey’s Diner, he’d gone in there once when he’d first arrived and not returned since because the idea of people on roller skates carrying food and drink around just seemed to him like an accident waiting to happen. He didn’t mind people having accidents, he had plenty of them in a day from tripping over extension cables to chair legs and tables legs and sometimes just nothing at all, but he wasn’t on wheels or carrying food. It made him a little antsy that he might end up with his dinner all over him. He however commended her efforts to stay upright whilst on wheels because he certainly couldn’t do it, although admittedly by the stain on her shirt…maybe they weren’t so different. It was bad enough ice skating, when he’d been about nine his mother had taken him skating over Christmas and he’d spent most of his time at the rink on the floor trying to stand back up again. He’d probably have the same amount of luck on roller skates. Wheels, he always thought, were not meant to be fitted to people’s feet; if they were we would have been born with wheeled feet instead of normal feet. But that was just provoking humorous mental images inside his head and he thought he better put a stop to it before caffeine caught up with it and sent him a bit fuzzy round the edges or at least fuzzier around the edges as he was always on some slightly higher plain of energy than most people. If people had a natural caffeine level Charley was already three cups higher than everybody else on the planet. Speaking of drinks, Bri looked like she could do with one. He didn’t even need to ask how her day had gone, there was a look on her face, and the spilled…substance on her shirt that indicated she would probably feel better to just let the rest of the day hurry up so she could forget about it.

It was when he glanced up from her and briefly met eyes with the guy serving the drink at the counter who just gave him a thumbs up that he realised they probably frequented the place to often because the people who worked here knew what they both had. Now he thought about it he realised when he’d ordered his drink the kid hadn’t actually moved but had just nodded, why? Because he was already getting it ready was why. Yes, they probably did come here too often, but it was a tradition, and no matter how ridiculous traditions were they just kept going that was what made them so traditional. And anyway it was always warm in Gigi’s and the seats were comfy and the drinks weren’t so expensive they burned a hole in you wallet, and it wasn’t that far away for either of them to have to go. Anyway, it seemed like they were getting known in here, it was just one of those things. You frequent somewhere so much you’d feel guilty going somewhere else and it would never quite have the same effect on you as the one you knew best. You got to know the place, the walls and decoration, the people and you got used to the drink too. And just on time her drink arrived, Charley tried to ignore the strangely smug expression on the boys face, like he knew something they didn’t.

“I’m hoping you wanted a coffee,” Charley said in manner that suggested he’d be so shocked if she didn’t have a coffee that he might end up eating his hat. If he had a hat, which he didn’t. So he’d have to go out and buy one, and then eat it, “Seeing as Mr Waiter-Boy here seems to think he knows us well…anyone’d think we came here often.” He grinned, tactfully diverting the conversation away from inquiring about her day to take her mind of whatever had happened, he knew her well enough by now to be able to judge her mood pretty easily.

[Brielle DiBenedetto]

Brielle listened to Charley trying to explain the man's problem though he kept fumbling around with the words much like she did around him when she was just a little girl. All the auburn haired girl did was snicker quietly and scrunch up her freckled nose. "I understand you, Mr. Brightly." Even though she was an alumni student she still often called him Mister. She still hasn't gotten out of that stage. Brielle DiBenedetto felt her face go as red as a cherry as she looked down to the old wooden tabletop. "I mean … Charley." The Italian looked up to find herself a mug of steaming coffee by her. The waiter had on a fitter smug grin and he had a twinkle in his eye that Bri couldn't stand. It was as if he was hiding something. The mysterious waiter winked at her and made his way back to the counter. Surely, Brielle would've known what that wink meant on somebody else but this was a man she never met before. Why was he acting so … odd and nice all of a sudden?

That's when her curly haired friend spoke did she really pay more attention. "Of course, I'll take a coffee. After a long day wound up at work I would need one." Brielle cupped the warm mug with her hands and slowly brought it up to her face. She never really needed sugar or creme with her coffee; just as long as it was steaming hot then she would drink it. Though, she was picky about her hot chocolate. She complains that she can't have it when the mix comes from a box and is in a powdery form. It just tastes awful to her. But, enough about her favorite beverages and back to the present. Charley Brightly hasn't changed at all ever since she was an ickle little freshman in her jumper and turtleneck. He seemed to be even more handsome than before with his hair falling into his eyes but he still seemed to have the same bubbly smile that made the insides of her stomach gush like marshmellows around an open fire.

"So, how is school going for you?" He probably had about fifty fangirls writing him secret love letters everyday. Brielle DiBenedetto didn't care if her love for him was quite obvious at the time; she was a carefree preteen who thought toe socks were all the rage. Toe socks were definatly in style during that time. "I bet you don't have an ugly, fat boss who makes you wear rollerskates …" The Italian grumbled and ran her pinkie finger around the rim of her mug. All the time, Brielle had worked at Betsey's Diner until she was a junior and she never once had a review with her boss to get a raise or anything. She was just about to throw in the towel and quit though she had no idea what she wanted to do. She knew she would have a hard time finding a job as it is and it wouldn't help if she didn't know what she wanted to do with her life. Brielle could only think of one thing: a mother. She'd be good at that kind of thing since she likes to clean and cook and somewhat likes children [even if she hates when they bawl].

The redhead took a soothing sip of her warm coffee to calm herself down and slouched down into the booth. She was still exhausted from a long and difficult day's work. Her arms felt like cinderblocks about to crash through the floor and her legs felt like jello. It was as if she couldn't move, though she would have to walk about two blocks to her apartment. "Hey, Charley," She tried to catch his attention even though he was listening. "mind if I crash at your apartment tonight? I can barely move and yours is closer." Brielle DiBenedetto knew that she shouldn't be doing this but she seriously could not move. She'd probably fall somewhere between a block and half and end up being a hobo for the night. Plus, it was even supposed to rain and get breezy. As if she was going to become a hobo? Hey, maybe Charley had some whiskey that she could smuggle and drink. She needed something to make her go to sleep and relieve her stresses from work.

[done!]

[Charley Brighty]

Charley arched a brow as she called him Mr Brighty, apparently old habits died hard because he’d been telling her to call him Charley since she’d left Springbrook, for a start she wasn’t his student anymore and she could call him whatever she wanted to because it was a free country and secondly calling him that made him feel a little…strange. Not only did it sound like he was having coffee with a student, which would be entirely wrong but it made him feel like actually liking her was wrong because she still thought of him as a teacher to her. It made the entire thing a little weird to be blunt about it, it certainly put things in perspective, even though he knew there was absolutely nothing wrong with it anymore. She was an adult, he was an adult and he knew people with far greater age differences then their own who worked out in the end. It was just getting over that hurdle of awkwardness, he often wondered if he was going to feel this awkward if liking her was the right thing to do at all, if he was going to feel that way all the time he probably ought to just forget the whole thing and not think about it again because it wouldn’t work. But he was pretty sure that was just the side of him waving the guidebook to being a successful teacher and was forgetting that she wasn’t a student anymore and she could make her own choices and it wouldn’t come back and bite either one of them in the ass if it all went wrong. But she corrected herself, which he smiled at, he sort of hoped that one day they’d laugh and joke about that, that she kept slipping up and calling him that…but that was if there even was a future with her in it and he though that was a little presumptuous of him.

He’d apparently been correct in guessing she’d not had the best of days, she certainly looked like a nice warm coffee would warm her up and make her feel better, he knew that feeling. Except rather than having to blame that sort of feeling on roller skates and evil bosses, Charley just blamed it on students and a little thing called ‘The School Musical’ because half the time he and Jayden ended up having to write some of the songs for it, edit the ones that were provided and generally make the whole thing work musically by themselves. It was chaos, luckily it only came round once a year but that was bad enough on top of various other concerts and things going off throughout the year. He often ended up working seriously late on weeks like that and he knew what it was to want to just fall into a nice warm seat and sleep for a year just to get off his feet and let his head stop dancing with music. Her problem was admittedly probably worse though as it went on through the whole year, at least Charley liked music. He thought she was somewhat beyond being a waitress on roller-skates but it was her life and nothing to do with him.

“Not bad…” he conceded and looked down at his coffee, swilled it a little and then added casually, “I did get hit by a jumbo paper aeroplane yesterday but it could have been worse.” He smiled, “It could have been the one with chewing gum stuck to the front of it...which incidentally is still stuck to the whiteboard, I would have said something but it was a such a good shot and the plane stayed upright...” he snickered and looked back at his coffee. “But no, you beat me with the fat boss on roller-skates.” he laughed, “I don’t think anything beats that, unless maybe your boss was wearing a clown suit.”

Yes, he was hardly the usual teacherly sort of material. No other teacher at Springbrook would have allowed that sort of thing to go by unpunished, let alone leave it there to be admired by other classes that came in. When it fell off it fell off and he would chuck it in the bin. However popularity of the music room had gone up what with people appearing just to point out the paper aeroplane stuck to the whiteboard and proudly proclaim it as their own work. So really, it wasn’t just about allowing a class to be unruly, Charley was sneakily using it as a ploy to get more people in the classroom. And it worked quite well, people would turn up and not be able to resist having a tinkle on one of the instruments and the next minute they were coming in every lunch and their playing was getting better because they didn’t mind messing up in front of a teacher who had a paper aeroplane stuck nose first to his whiteboard and didn’t seem bothered about it. It was certainly a novel way of teaching and he doubted anyone else would approve but if it got his class performing better than he really couldn’t care less what anybody else thought about it. Charley always wanted students to be themselves around him, it was the only way to get them to enjoy music, to be themselves not have to be prim and proper. Music wasn’t about being prim and proper at all. He failed to add that on the first jumbo aeroplane had in fact been a scribbled drawing of himself and the word ‘hawt’ next to it, he also chose to politely ignore the rather red faced young girl at the back who obviously had never intended the message to be seen by him was trying to dig her way out of her chair with her shoulder-blades. He pretended, like any good teacher, not to have seen it and just dropped it into the bin and carried on without a pause in complete and total innocence of the matter which she seemed thankful for at least. He just didn’t think that admitting that sort of thing happened to him was the right thing to do, that and it made him feel a bit silly really...

“Er…”He replied entirely caught off guard by this next question, he could see no reason why not, even if there was some voice screaming in his head that this was a really really bad idea. For a start the house was a tip and had a broken up old piano dying in the corridor blocking the kitchen, the kitchen was...well…barely recognisable as a kitchen and the living room looked like it was doubling as an orchestra pit for a musical, that and...and...well…it was just going to be awkward again…. “Sure.” He replied as the dawning of what he’d just said washed over him gradually.

Sure? Charley wondered if his old little problem had just come back to haunt him for a moment but he could neither sense any of the emotions inside his head talking freely amongst themselves nor the fact that any of them were laughing at him and what he’d just said. He reasoned it must have been himself and then wondered what on earth he was thinking. He really liked her and now she was going to be in his apartment and he was going to feel all…funny again, Charley never quite knew what to do with what he was thinking or feeling. This was mostly down to the fact that he’d had a problem with emotions for fifteen years, after his accident in London as a six year old Charley had taken a knock to the head and something had sort of gone amiss inside his head. Some vital nerve wasn’t working correctly up there and it fragmented each of his emotions into a sort of separate identity as it was. He hadn’t suffered anything bad form it at all he just tended to swing haphazardly from one emotion to the other with little in between he had struggled to make definitive decisions by himself because he would argue with himself about it, he ha had various problems with it, not least in the fact that he had had barely any friends growing up because he was the weird kid that nobody wanted to talk to. So understandably he’d never been in a relationship before, people couldn’t handle him, girls found him to be too much of a friend to them and he got bullied by other boys. He’d just sort of been drifting along, stuck in the middle of it all while he grew up. It wasn’t for the lack of trying but after a few attempts and having the fact that ‘Eew you’re weird go away!’ thrown back in your face did tend to put a kid off acting on anything he thought. But once that problem had gone thankfully leaving him to himself and allowing him to transfer up from teaching younger children to older children he had never had time to think about anything he might have been feeling. He’d never had anything really understandable, which was probably why he often felt a little out of his depth around Bri. He liked her a lot but there was always in the back of his mind a few childish taunts that put him off a little from saying anything about it.

“I mean yeah, no problem.” He said seeming to snap out of some small lapse in concentration, “I have a pull out sofa you could sleep on.” He smiled, “Or I’ll take the sofa and you can have the comfy bed…whichever you want." Meaning whichever she wouldn’t feel strange or uncomfortable sleeping on, “Should probably warn you though that it might look as though a musical bomb has just gone off in my house, I don’t tend to get that many visitors and tidying is definitely not my specialty...” He laughed and waved a hand, “But you know that anyway because you’ve seen the state of my classroom.”

[Brielle DiBenedetto]

"Just imagine what those brats will be like when they grow old." Brielle spoke of the teenagers throwing paper aeroplanes around. She snickered and lightly shook her head; her bright auburn hair flying up out of her face. The Italian took a small sip of her coffee, half expecting there to be a bug in it after seeing the waiter's smug little face. Luckily, there was no bug and there was no spit. Brielle DiBenedetto would have spit out her coffee from laughter if she didn't put her hand to her mouth and muffled out her laughing/choking. Now, her fat, stinky boss in a clown suit would be a sight to see. Maybe she could convince him to wear a clown costume for Halloween but she highly doubted that wasn't going to happen.

Bri lifted up her head in interest when he thought about her spending the night at his house. Sure, it would be awkward but Brielle could just imagine all the liquor he had hidden in his shelves. When he finally answered Brielle merely gave him one of her million dollar smiles [whatever that means] and nodded. "Oh, thanks, Charley." It wasn't like she was going to find Playboy magazines at his house; she could hardly see Charley Brightly knowing what a condom was. As long as his place was bad-stuff free, it would be fine for her to stay. It seemed like he never had a girlfriend but most of his younger students liked him but she knew that he wasn't the type that would give up anything to sleep around with some fifteen year old bratty teenage girl. Besides, she's never been to his house before and she would love to see what it looked like. On that note, Brielle took another swig of her steaming latte.

When Charley spoke of the state of his house, Brielle couldn't help but laugh politely. "You haven't seen my apartment. There is pizza boxes everywhere along with hamster fur and mouse traps." The Italian lived in a rundown apartment of some sorts so mice found her room very comforting. They now take over most of the apartment along with the food and the dust they collect. Bri could handle piles of sheet music, grand pianos and other musical instruments anyday. Now, it was time to choose over Charley's bed or the sofa. The redhead was going to be nice and pick the sofa but instead she blurted out, "I'll sleep in the bed, I guess." She lightly blushed and stared down at her empty coffee mug. She was just about to order up another one when she decided that they would be better off going in the direction to Charley's house. Brielle wanted to see his house first before she went to sleep so the thought of going early seemed reasonable.

"Want to get going to your place?" The auburn asked her old music teacher to make sure he was ready to go. Brielle DiBenedetto dug out her purse and left the odd waiter a small tip. Then a thought hit her, she didn't have any clothes to wear for the night. With a scrunched nose, Brielle looked up at Charley. "I'll have to borrow one of you shirts tonight, I sort of didn't bring anything." The thought of her wearing one of his tee shirts made her knees go slightly weak but she got enough strength to stand up and walk over to the glass doors. This was going to be a night to remember.

[Charley Brighty]

Charley didn’t want to imagine what they’d be like. He was pretty sure when he’d been that age people hadn’t thrown paper aeroplanes around the classroom, or been half as smart-mouthed as what half the kids were today. It seemed like each year they were getting worse. But then he realised that when he’d been younger all the people he’d classed as ‘old’ said stuff like that. Now there was a frightening concept. Charley Brighty getting old. He could imagine he’d end up being one of those sprightly silvery gentlemen who refused tog et old….or die. He certainly couldn’t ever imagine changing, and if anything the older he gotten the more like a big kid he acted. The difference was though that he was a polite big kid, the kids he taught weren’t quite so polite and he was often telling them off for using bad language in class. Language he would never have dreamed using in front of an adult when he’d been younger. It just went to show how the world changed, luckily he was a man well suited to adapting and he was likeable so unlike some teachers he managed to be on the same level as the more bratty kids and could wheedle his way around getting them to behave, or at least produce some decent work, whereas most other teachers just sent them straight out of class. Charley’s view was that the longer they were out of class the less education they got which was what was making them so bad in the first place. Charley rarely ever sent anyone out of his class ever, apart from perhaps killing the student standing next to you Charley dealt with most crimes in the classroom. It seemed to work better that way. Delegation was a fine thing but if the kids thought you had nothing on them then they would just misbehave further.

“It’s no trouble.” He replied.

He couldn’t help but smile back as she flashed him a megawatt smile herself. He liked it when people smiled, or was it he liked it when Bri smiled…Either way, smiling was always a good thing in his books. He liked to make people smile, perhaps because when he’d been younger he hadn’t had much to smile about and he didn’t see why anyone else should ever have nothing to smile about. Laughter was a sure sign of enjoyment and if people were laughing and having fun then they were enjoying themselves, and it got things done a heck of a lot faster than being bored with something or making it out to be too much work. He half wondered just exactly what she was expecting, his house wasn’t anything grand. It was a quirky little building snugly nestled in between two far larger buildings that were flats and looked like it had been a last minute decision to stick it there. Charley naturally loved it, even if the kitchen had a big wooden beam running through the middle of it that made him duck every time he needed to get to the sink. The building had character and Charley was all about things being different and unique, it would be strange if he just returned to a perfectly normal house or apartment at the end of the day that was bland and characterless. But no. She’d soon see that. And thankfully he didn’t have any dirty little secrets lying around the place. Charley didn’t have the time for dirty little secrets, they were what happened to other people who weren’t so obsessed, or lost in their job, and had time to be bored and needed something to entertain them. In fact the dirtiest thing she was likely to find in the entire house would be last nights leftovers piled in the sink because he’d not had time to clean the dishes seeing as he’d been so busy trying to transpose someone flute music for an exam they had the following Monday.

“Hamster fur and mouse traps? Sounds like an interesting choice of decoration.” He smirked and took a drink from his coffee.

Which he was very glad he’d just done because it meant when she blurted out about sleeping in the bed, loud enough for the person on the table next to theirs to glance across, his face was well buried behind the mug of coffee. It did take him quite some effort not to laugh though. He finished off the coffee and put it down onto the table, ignored the funny look they received from the table beside them and chuckled quietly at Bri. She had gone somewhat red in the face and was staring at her cup, Charley casually brushed a hand over his mouth in an attempt to make the smirk go away, and wondered if she’d quite meant to say that so loudly. Although apparently not seeing as she was a little redder at the cheeks than usual, he thought it made her look pretty because it brought out her freckles. Not that he’d ever say that out loud of course. He not only had plenty of self-control, but she was going to be in his house tonight, he didn’t want to say anything stupid to make her feel uncomfortable, that and there was still some vague and dim recollection that the last time he’d ever complimented anybody like that he’d been called a freak and had been run away from. That sort of thing when you’re young tends to stick with you for a while. Anyway. He glanced down to his watch to try and see what the time was. It was no use his watch had entirely given up on him and looking at the clock in the shop would require the total effort of turning around to look at the wall behind him. It was just too much to be bothered with. But it was still plenty of light outside so it couldn’t have been too late, he wondered if it was simply because she wanted to see what his house looked like before it went dark. Which was fair enough.

“I’ve just finished my coffee.” Charley nodded and added some money to the tip Brielle had already put on the table. “So sure, why not.”

Then she said something else that was a small shock to the system. As though it wasn’t bad enough she was going to be coming to his house, she made the very good point of saying she had nothing to wear. Which she didn’t. He really would have to lend her one of his shirts. Not that it was a problem, Charley being so tall had plenty of shirts that would more than just fit her, they would drown her out. But the idea of her, in his bed, in his shirt was making his heart flutter strangely. Okay and breathe. He stood up and followed her to the door, pushing it open in a charming fashion for her to go first. Okay so he was going to have to say something to her about that or else she was going to think he’d been struck dumb, didn’t like the idea, was unwilling to lend her a shirt or was in fact being a git and holding out for her to sleep in nothing. He hastily decided to reply.

“If you’re sure you won’t feel weird, I have plenty of shirts.” He nodded and smiled at her, “They might be a little…big.” He added and laughed, “And you can stick your shirt in the washer if you want to try and get rid of that stain. My Washer of Doom cleans all things…or eats them.” He looked perfectly serious about calling his washing machine the washer of doom. He really did call it that, it rattled like a monster in a cage, and either cleaned things beyond recognition or just plain ate them and you never saw them again. Like socks. It ate his socks all the time. Anyway, back onto the subject of home, “Just this way-“ he waited until she was out of the door and then gestured which way to go before heading off that way, “-But it seems to like eating socks more than anything so your shirt should be alright.” He smiled.

[Brielle DiBenedetto]

"My neighbor has two hamsters that always run loose. I end up catching them." The good part about catching hamsters is returning them. Brielle DiBenedetto always got a reward for doing such a good deed. It was usually twenty five dollars and free coupons to any KwikyMart on the planet. Sure, her neighbor's always smelled like salted peanuts but they were very nice, old folks. They played chess every Sunday and sometimes invited Bri over for some old fashioned cube steak.

When they headed off in the direction of the house, Brielle paid close attention to where they were going. She knew he lived closer because she had dropped off a Christmas present once but she had soon forgot the directions to the Brightly house. Bri DiBenedetto brushed back some of her auburn hair out of her way and silently sighed when she say the sign that said Betsey's Diner. Betsey could go to hell and the Italian wouldn't even care. She hated her fat boss who scratched his belly and she hated the whole damned restuarant. Somedays, she just wanted it to burn down and crumble beneath her feet. One of these days Brielle Giovanna DiBenedetto would get her revenge. She'd take down the whole dang diner if she had to but she would get her revenge fair and square.

"I don't care, as long as I can sleep in it." Sure, Brielle doesn't even care if it shows her cotton underwear but she'd think that Charley would mind. After all, it'd be kind of awkward dressed like that in the house of her fancy. The Italian looked after every sign that they came upon; hoping that they were nearing Charley Brightly's house sometime soon. It was like reliving a dream. It was the dream where she gets to go to Charley's house except she wasn't wearing a stained shirt and her legs didn't hurt as bad.

Once they turned a corner, Brielle had spotted his house. She raced by herself up to his place and waited at the door for him to unlock the door. Once unlocked, Brielle stepped in and came face to face with sheets of music; many large grand pianos that were distressed, weathered, and even fixed up; and there were a wide variety of musical instruments tossed about the room. "You have the coolest place ever, Charley. Yours beats mine by one hundred percent." Brielle ran her hand down the top of one of the pianos, "I would love to live here."

[Charley Brighty]

It wasn’t that long until they were nearly at his house. It was pretty obvious which one it was, it looked out of place amongst the other houses that were next to it, nothing about it looked like it belonged and nobody except Charley Brighty would still have a Christmas decoration dangling from the roof. He hadn’t been able to get it down, soothe small reindeer now spent its day hanging upside down from the guttering on the corner of his house. Occasionally swinging on its one remaining bracket and clattering against the side of the house and waking him with a start. He knew he ought to bring it down, something about bad luck, but it seemed a little late to do that anyway and it was his house. If he wanted a dilapidated reindeer hanging off the roof he could have one. Nobody had complained yet and even if they did it would just go onto the bottom of his endless list of things to do.

He was too busy staring at the fallen reindeer, which seemed particularly embarrassing and obvious now he had a visitor, to realise she’d raced off towards his door. He blinked a moment later, tearing his gaze away from the Christmas decoration and realised she was already at the door. Her energy made him laugh as he rummaged around in his pocket to get the keys out. As usual other stuff came with them, like a chunk of screwed up paper, and old lollipop wrapper, three squashed sweets of unidentifiable origin and finally his house keys. He inserted them into the lock and opened the door, allowing her to go in first while he retrieved the lollipop wrapper off the floor. Charley might have been untidy but he didn’t leave bits of rubbish to float off down the street and add to general pollution. He lived on a pretty clean street and he rather hoped it would stay that way for as long as possible. Just as he stood up he saw Bri running her hands over one of the pianos. He had never really thought of his house as being ‘cool’, he just thought it was like an Aladdin cave of musical wonders, every room had at least four if not more musical instruments of varying sizes in it, and it was just a complete mess of sheet music, music books and scores, cd’s and tapes everywhere. But there was no denying that it wasn’t a colourful house. The walls, from what could be seen of them were bright, warm and inviting, the carpets were the same and had a sort of clashing quality to the walls but suited his home perfectly. There were a few random pictures hung on the wall, a few certificates or prizes, a couple of family pictures and of course naturally a bunch of composers that Charley thought the world of.

“Well if cool is the new word for a complete mess, then sure.” He laughed and shrugged off his coat, hanging it onto a three hooked hanger on the wall. “The living room is just through there,” He pointed through one door, “And the kitchen is at the far end of the hallway, behind the Bechstein at the end., You can’t get in the downstairs bathroom because it’s currently housing half a brass section.” He admitted running a hand through his unruly hair and making it stick out at amusing angles, “But there’s one upstairs on the left, the bedrooms on the right, studies straight ahead on the landing and there’s a backdoor through the kitchen which leads into the garden. Which is more a palace of weeds than anything else.” He nodded with a smile.

That about described it, it’s wasn’t huge, it wasn’t tidy and it certainly wasn’t modern looking but it had a warm homely feel to it and it was comfortable, it certainly looked lived in but he would have no chance if he ever tried to sell the thing. Not that he would, he loved that house to pieces. It might have been a little upside down, but with a bit of effort he’d made something he quite liked. There was one thing for certain, it didn’t look like just a guy lived there. He’d seen a few of his friends apartments and had been astounded to find them in very neutral colours, bland greys with only the odd splash of colour here and there. Unlike the rather more masculine side to decoration Charley had just gone out and bought the brightest colours he could find and then stuck them wherever he’d felt like it. It was a designers nightmare but somewhere amongst the chaos there was a sort of style that emerged. A two fingered gesture to every fashion magazine on the planet that said minimalism was in and that nobody wanted a brightly coloured home decorated with anything and everything cluttering the surfaces from antiques to what looked like signed images of various musicians from across the globe. If you actually went through half Charley’s stuff there would probably be more than a few pleasant surprises that were worth a fair bit in there. But he didn’t have the time or inclination to do either. In the event of a fire it would be an insurance disaster.

“Can I get you a drink?” he inquired as he made his way down the corridor, sliding past a rather large upright piano that was nearly taking up the entire hall width, “Oh and you might be wondering about the pianos…” he chuckled, “I restore them and sell them on, there’s a fixed up one in the living room, these ones are a little…unfortunate.” He didn’t like to say dead, or broken, he respected pianos far much to use that sort of a term, they were merely incapacitated for a brief period of time until he could get them working again. But it was expensive and time consuming.



((OMG! I did a short-ish one!
*Dances*
Yay for me!
Aww, it still wasn't as short as I thought it was going to be, lol.))

[Brielle DiBenedetto]

[posting once i'm back from gas station.]

[Brielle DiBenedetto]

Brielle DiBenedetto snickered lightly when he said his place was a mess of some sorts. She highly found it amusing that he actually had more room than she did in her apartment. She had a bed, couch, and table that came out of the wall, for crying out loud. He definitely had more space than she did even with all the clutter. Though, Charley's clutter was special in a way that Bri couldn't put a finger on. It seemed like priceless stuff that you'd find in a garage sale but yet you couldn't dare to throw it away. It was sort of like Brielle's old troll doll collection. She found them a bit cheesy and frightening but she would never think of throwing any of them away. They seemed to fulfill her lifestyle and that's what made her sort of special in a way. They way Charley was rescuing old pianos seemed to be amazing in her eyes; that she guessed was another way that made him different from any other male that she'd met.

When Charley began speaking of the way around his house, Bri's eyes grew rather wide. He didn't have a lot of space in his place; he had an enormous amount of space instead. From the outside it looked like a rather small house but once you stepped inside it felt like you were going to be living inside a mansion. He had two bathrooms while she had to share one filthy restroom down the hallway with her neighbors. They often left hair clogging up the showers and decided not to scrub the toilet. That seemed to be Brielle DiBenedetto's thing to do on a Sunday night -- scrub the toilet until she could see the white ceramic sparkle. "You're so lucky. You have way way more space in your whole living room than I have in my whole apartment." That was even with the pull-down furniture up. It was as if the redhead didn't even have to vacuum since her area was so petite. But then again, he gained more money than her so he could afford a better place.

"You could get me a glass of wine," Brielle looked up as she placed her hand back to her side. "that is if you have any … or any type of booze would work." The Italian often wondered if Charley even carried alcohol in his house; he never seemed like the type that would drink since he didn't need alcohol. He was already high on life as it seemed. Brielle DiBenedetto took off in the direction of Mr. Brightly's bedroom while pausing every once in a while to look at all the signed pictures of musicians he had on his wall. Once she reached his bedroom, she carefully and silently shut the door behind her and soon found his dresser. Though, with curiosity she pulled open the wrong drawer only to find out that it was his boxer's drawer. With a flushed and tomato red face, Brielle quickly shut the drawer and went to the very top one. It was right, obviously. He had about four stacks of tee shirts. She picked the first one which was a plain heather gray tee shirt and took off her jeans, shoes, and own sweatshirt. With hesitation she slipped into and noticed that it wasn't as long as he said it would be. It barely reached past her bottom which could be a problem. She scanned his other shirts; they all seemed to be the same size. The Italian felt her face go red but she couldn't wear her undergarments. This would have to do.

When she reached Charley again with her stained clothes in her arms, she merely coughed lightly. "Where is the washing machine of doom, again?" Ever since she went into his house it was like she could barely remember a thing. Maybe it was because she had a short memory but that didn't seem likely. The possible answer would have to be that she was in his house which caused her head to start spinning and her blood to start flowing faster. It felt like she was going to burst. Not only that but she was standing in front of him with a rather short shirt and her panties could show at any given time.

[Charley Brighty]

“It’s not that big…” He smiled, and glanced around, or maybe it was just because he was so tall… “Well I mean it probably would be bigger if not for all the clutter.”

It was true. He hadn’t really thought about it, but when he’d bought the house he had really gone out on a limb, but thankfully it had paid off. He had been torn between renting an apartment or buying his own place and he had risked it and bought somewhere. He was happy to learn that the areas housing costs had shot up with the new school being so near by and his house had almost doubled in value. Had he wanted to buy the thing now he would have had no chance, but at the time it had been an offer he couldn’t refuse. It had been a couple of years since he’d had to live in student accommodation, but he could quite clearly remember where he’d used to live had been a cramped and rather uncomfortable place. He remembered visiting his grandmother quite often because she lived out in the countryside and had a fabulous old cottage and it was far better than where he’d been. Bri was probably still in that stage of living, cramped little apartment with too many other tenants you didn’t like living next door to you. He realised his house, for all the mess it was in, would probably look fantastically appealing to her if that was the case.

“I have some...somewhere.” he smiled and crouched down to open a few kitchen cupboards, searching for it.

It wasn’t very often charley ever had time to stop and drink alcohol, and he really didn’t need it anyway. He was already hyper active most of the time, unpredictable and in fact the addition of alcohol would probably only have him hanging off a door handle singing ‘Staying Alive’ by the Beegee’s anyway. Which was not something anyone, ever, ought to witness. But he did have a bottle of red wine tucked away somewhere in case of emergencies, such as someone unexpectedly popping round. Which was rare but did happen. Other than that there really wasn’t a lot in the house. Trouble was as he pulled the red wine out from the back of the biscuit cupboard that the wine had aged splendidly and was not probably extremely strong. Oh well, if she’d had a bad day she’d no doubt appreciate the extra strength. He vaguely wondered if she could hold her alcohol down. But he’d soon find that out. He heard the floorboards overhead creak and wondered if she’d found everything okay. He placed the wine on the counter and rummaged through a few drawers searching out the corkscrew. He found it in the sthingy drawer and wrestled the cork from the bottle. However just as he turned around and away from the counter to drop the cork in the bin he suddenly realised Brielle was right there. He looked momentarily surprised, and then his eyes dropped. Wow that t shirt was shorter than he’d thought it would be. But then again he was extremely slender and tended to wear fitted t shits rather than really baggy ones. He seemed distracted for a moment, fumbled with the corkscrew as he took his eyes away because naturally staring was being a bit too obvious and then proceeded to stutter across his words for a moment.

“Wow…you found it okay then…umm…it’s…just through there…” He pointed with the bottle of wine in hand through the kitchen and into a very small utility room on the other side. Here was just enough room for the washer on one side the fridge next to it before the wall at the other end and finally the door into the back garden. “Oh wait! Don’t go through there dressed like that” He blurted and quickly put down the wine bottle, “I mean, there’s a guy who lives opposite and he watches the birds in my garden, he has binoculars…he will stare at you. I know because I caught him staring at the post lady three times last week, he’s kinda weird.” He admitted, seeming to get slightly distracted, “Anyway, I’ll take it through.”

He took her clothing from her and when he turned away from her was permitted a moment to just gather his thoughts which were currently running as follows: Pretty girl. In Kitchen. Not enough clothing. Your shirt. Short. Girl. Kitchen. Very short. It took him a momentto gather those thoughts together and he was suddenly very happy that his old problem had left him for good. At a point like this he would have simply gone wild, his emotions would have been completely uncontrollable and he would have frightened her off. As it was he was quite proud of having not dropped the wine bottle on the floor and being able to not just stare at her in shock. He had pretty much made sense when he’d talked, well about as much sense as he ever made and that was always a good start. Poor Charley. He was totally inexperienced about listening to what his heart was telling him. The last time he’d listened to it, it had been not only broken but trampled all over, pointed at and laughed at. Not exactly encouraging. It was difficult but he thought he was doing quite well. He really did like Bri, and the last thing he wanted to do was mess it up by saying something really stupid to her. But then again she’d heard him say plenty of stupid things before, she’d been in his class and he was always spouting something irrelevant and entirely humorous. He sort of wondered where his sense of humour had gone right now, then he realised it was still back in the kitchen staring at her with its jaw open. He tried to reign everything back in as he sorted her clothes and put them into the washer. Setting it going he glanced out the window and was correct. His neighbour was seated at the window with the binoculars out watching a few birds that were in his back garden. Charley pulled the blind down. There was no way he was going to let some guy stare at her through binoculars.

He headed back into the kitchen and pulled out two glasses, setting them on the counter and finally pouring the wine.

“I hope reds okay with you, it’s all I had in the house.” He admitted and held a full glass out to her. He managed not to stare, and he managed not to tip the drink all over her or the floor, which seemed to be a triumph, “D’you want to head into the living room, we can take a seat and it’s comfier in there.” He nodded.

[Brielle DiBenedetto]

[haha, lovely [&] hilarious post, dearie. ^_^]

[Charley Brighty]

Lol, thankyou.
*Snicker*
He's so cute to play.
*Nose scrunch*
*Pats Charley*