, tear of the soul * -open

[victoria hope jean]

Life was interesting sometimes. It could be great one minute... but then you could be begging for mercy the next. It's often how teenagers ended up in Hawthorne. Some people just couldn't handle that aspect of life; instead, they would turn to drugs, alcohol, suicide. Anything that could help them forget why they were begging for that mercy at that moment in time. It didn't always work, however. If it did, half of the worlds' population probably wouldn't even be here right now. They'd be buried in the ground, dead. Lifeless. Even sometimes forgotten. It was a sad way to look at things, yes, but it was the truth. You can't always escape the truth, no matter how hard you try. It was almost impossible.

The young girl had just gotten out of class; her science class. The class that usually drains her of all her energy. But, not today. Today, she was pretty much alive. Maybe it was because she'd found out she could play in the music room anytime that she needed and/or wanted. Yes, that had to be it. There was no other good reason for her to be. She was ready, anxious even, to go back to the musicroom and play that baby grande piano they had in the back. It had been a long time, well not too long, only months, since she'd laid her hands on the keys of a piano. She'd been stuck to her guitar.

Nothing beat piano, though. It was her complete passion. She could play piano all day and never get tired of it.

She walked to her dorm and laid all of her homework on her bed, planning on doing it later that night, when she'd get back from playing. Some of it was easy, so she knew it wouldn't take her all night. She opened back up the door and left, such as quickly as she'd come. Her boots made a clacking sound as she walked down the hallways, having been wearing heeled boots that day, and she let out a sigh, the sound annoying her. Finally, she'd made it to the room and quietly pulled the door open.

No one seemed to be in there, that was a good thing on her part. She wanted the time to herself, just to play, hear the melodic notes ring out of the instrument. She pushed some hair behind her ear and made her way to the back of the room, seeing the baby grande piano. A soft smile came to her lips and she walked over there, sitting down on the stool. She warmed up her fingers by doing a few scales, before taking in a breath. For a moment, it was just silence, before she began to play a song she'd learned off of Youtube. "Angels Softly Whispered To Me" was the name and she'd fallen in love with it the moment that she'd heard the first note off of the piano.


tagged. open
outfit. click.
notes. this(click) is the song that she's playing.
credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy *

[/size][/blockquote]

[isaac mason brexton]

Isaac walked down the hallway, he was tired and about ready to just go to his room and collapse, never to be seen again, or at least for the next twelve hours but that wasn't how things worked. Jet lagged or not it was day time not sleep time and he wasn't about to screw it up just because he couldn't get used to that. Why was he even here? It certainly wasn't his decision, it wasn't his parents either. He knew he wasn't the perfect child, at least not since he was about thirteen but they put up with him well enough. It had been his grandparents that sent him here. His parents didn't have much of a choice in the matter, they were broke and his grandparents waved some money at them and that was the end of that. No discussion needed.

They lost a son but got enough to take care of their daughter in the best way possible. Truth be told, Isaac didn't mind it so much because of that. He loved his little sister and wouldn't let anyone say a negative word about her. The eight year old had down syndrome and Isaac spent a lot of time in fights with the kids from school because they would make fun of her. Isaac just wouldn't stand for that. He got into fights more often than most and then he went out and got drunk too and did other crazy, frowned upon things. It was enough of an excuse apparently but what did it matter if it helped his sister?

Walking down the hallway, he paused when he heard something.. Music.. Why was someone playing music? It was coming from one of the classrooms and Isaac moved toward and peered into the room. In it was a girl, playing the piano. It was making his eyes close. That was the sort of boring music that would no doubt put him to sleep.

Another bloody Mozart in the making, he thought sarcastically. He would have walked on by but his big mouth had a thing or two to say about it. Standing at the door, Isaac crossed his arms and watched for a moment when she was near the end of the song, "Needs more bass," he called out.

[victoria hope jean]

Whoever had composed the composition that she was playing, was a genius. Someone who could make such a.. touching and beautiful song needed to have some sort of praise. Ofcourse, just about any slow piano composition caught Hope's attention. She loved to pour herself into her music, it's how she got away from real life. She would get so immersed in playing an instrument that she would forget about her surroundings until she was finished. Sure, it seemed kind of odd, but it had been the only way to keep her from going off the handle for months, even before she came to this school. She could let herself forget all of the things that had happened that day, or days before, even if it was for a few minutes. She couldn't explain it.

When she let the last notes ring out of the piano, she let out a sigh and looked down at the keys that her fingers had been pushing down on. She was glad that the school had this room, they didn't know how music could help a person sometimes. Music can speak to people, even if they didn't realize it. This music, classical music, spoke to her. Piano compositions could tell so much within just one note, but not many people understood that. She really wished that people understood that sometimes. Her eyes snapped over to the door when she heard a voice talking to her and she bit down on her bottom lip. His comment didn't really bother her, but she could have said something quite rude, but she didn't. She held her tongue, it was what she was taught to do. She had, however, been having trouble with it lately. Especially when it came to certain people, but she didn't want to make a bad impression to the boy that was in the room.

It isn't really meant for that," She said quietly, her eyes shifting down to the keys. Her fingers were itching to play some more, but she got cold feet, sometimes, when people were around. Really, the only people that she'd played for were her family. Most of her family was musically inclined. Her brother could play the guitar, her father was a master at violin, and both she, her baby sister, and her mother can play piano. She had been playing since she was three years old, having sat in her mothers lap when she played, and pressing the keys that her mother told her to press. A soft smile came to her lips when she thought of that. She missed playing with her mother. She shook her head of the thoughts and looked over at the boy again. She wasn't one to judge, usually, but just the appearance of the boy told her that he wasn't one for classical music. Probably heavy metal. She liked that too, but she preferred this music, she wasn't sure why.



tagged. open
outfit. click.
notes. hiya! :D

credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy *

[/size][/blockquote]

[isaac mason brexton]

"S'pose not," he said as he stepped further into the room. It really wasn't anything like the music that Isaac would consider listening to. Slow music always put him to sleep. it didn't matter how good it was, or how amazing the pianist was. It just wasn't something he'd listen to. Isaac's mother played the piano but when he was younger, they couldn't really afford one. It didn't stop her playing music or singing to her son which was nice but it just reminded him that she didn't get to have that while he was growing up, and it was because of him too. He hated his grandparents for that and Isaac was sure that he would never forgive them either. He knew what family meant, you do what ever you gotta do for each other but her parents weren't very good examples of that. They would only look out for themselves. It gave him a lotto be angry about.

So there it was, he liked it because his mother loved it but he hated it because of his grandparents too it away for a little while. His mother would put the needs of her family and her children before her own so a piano was never of great importance despite her love for it. Fortunately, Isaac was mostly over it. His mother later got her piano when he was about 12 and even a few students to teach. Walking in, he looked at the instruments in the room. here were a few. Moving to the drum set, he tapped on his with his fingers a few times before looking back at the girl. "Do ya play anything else?" he asked. Maybe something a little more upbeat.

"Something that won't make me want to fall asleep? Mozart's Symphony No. 40? ...Or Bach's Toccata, that's a fun piece of music to play. I quite like Vivaldi's Four Seasons too," he said, moving up toward her and leaning against the piano. He looked to see what the girl might say or how she might react. Most people tended to judge him pretty quickly and Isaac knew he didn't exactly help that either with his black t-shirt that had its sleeves ripped off and his tattoos and piercing. In fact, he usually acted in a way that would give most people no doubt of what he was like... But there was more to him than that. Like any other person, he wasn't two dimensional. Isaac was angry and rebellious but he loved his family and his mother loved music, it would be wrong to think that he wouldn't have picked up a thing or two from her.

[victoria hope jean]

"I'm sorry that piece seemed to bore you," She said, crossing her arms over her chest. She was always one for pieces like that, them being able to speak to her in a way. She did, however, prefer the classics anyday. Those were the first pieces her mother had taught her; Bach and Mozart and things of the sort. Her mother was always one for the classics, Toccata and Fugue in D Minor always being one of her favorites. She would remember coming home from school and hearing it being played out. She missed it terribly, and hoped to be able to go home soon. Unfortunately, she was only a junior, and a medium risk, so she knew she wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

As he started naming off some pieces, she lifted her eyes from the piano keys and looked at him in surprise. She was, by no means a snob that judged, but it excited her to know that someone knew the pieces that she knew of. She knew how to play two of the three things he was talking about. A grin was placed on her lips and she nodded her head, "My mother would always play Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, she eventually taught me, when I was about nine. Then she taught me some of Vivaldi's Four Seasons.. Not completely though," S She said, her quiet tone having gotten a little more louder as she thought of the pieces. She didn't like to brag about what all pieces she knew, or how young she was when she could play them. Although, she loved the fact that she could play such amazing pieces when she was just ten. She often wondered how she did it.

Hope let her fingers play the first few measures of Toccata before looking over at the boy, with a smile, "It's nice to know that someone knows some classics. Most of the people here have stuck to guitar, so I'm alone in the classical department." And it was true, every musically inclined person that she'd met here had been able to play guitar, and usually only stuck to that. She knew how to play guitar, courtesy of her brother, but she loved the piano a whole lot more. She didn't know what it was, maybe the fact that it was the first instrument she'd learned to play. Or the melodic notes that came out of the instrument.

tagged. open
outfit. click.
notes. sorry it's crappy
credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy *

[/size][/blockquote]

[isaac mason brexton]

The girl seemed uninterested or perhaps a little bored. She would barely even look at him. Maybe she didn't like him. He did insult the piece she was playing and for all he knew, she could have written that and that would mean that he had given her a real reason to not like him. Starting off on the wrong foot was something Isaac was used to though but it never really bothered him. He was himself and if people didn't like that then too bad.

When he named a few of the most popular classical pieces she looked up at him. That got her attention at least. She seemed surprised and Isaac help the smirk on his face. Yeah, take that little girl, he thought, feeling rather satisfied with himself. There was definitely more to Isaac Brexton than his scruffy, unkempt look and the tattoos and piercings.

She nodded as she spoke. He wasn't surprised at all. Someone who took enough piano lessons as a kid was bound to come across at least one of the songs he had mentioned. She even spoke a little louder and seemed interested which was.. Probably a good thing. Not that Isaac cared terribly much about the impression he made on people. It was still good not to be perceived negatively by absolutely everyone though. People needed to have friends or life would be pretty bloody lonely.

Isaac grinned. That was without a doubt one of his favourite pieces. It just sounded so dark and powerfully and he loved that, not that he would admit it to most people. Especially back home, he had a reputation to keep after all. "Yeah, I play a bit 'o guitar, drums.. I sing as well but piano's sort of my mum's favourite instrument so it was the first one I learned to play," he said, so yes, he did learn to play and although he started a little late with it, it was in his blood and he picked it up pretty quickly. That and the fact that when they got their piano his mother was so happy and so excited and they played every day while Kara, his little sister who was about four years old at the time, would sit on the carpet beside them and watch and listen. It was some of the best times and they would play some music every day for a few years when Isaac started spending more time with his friends and less time at home. The girl was playing quiet well but Isaac hasn't missed the fact that she only knew two out of three of the songs he mentioned.

"Right, that's good and all but move over," he said getting up behind her and climbing over to seat down beside her, moving his hands over the keys, probably getting in her way a bit but that didn't bother him.. "You have to hear Symphany 40 and I'm a bit jet-lagged so I'll speed this up a bit," he told her, pressing down on the keys and playing the song.

[ his playing would sound like this : click ] It was his duty to educate her. As he played he spoke, "And remember, not a word to anyone, alright? They wouldn't believe ya anyway" he said, half in jest. This wasn't a part of himself that he shared with most people and it wasn't a part that seemed to fit with the angry kid that swore a lot. Of course, it wasn't as though there was anyone she could tell. Isaac was knew and no one really knew him anyway. "You got a name?" he asked, she seemed alright and since things were going as well as can be expected, Isaac decided her name was something he should probably know.

[victoria hope jean]

Hope was just happy that she found someone who knew just as much as she did, if not more, about piano and the classical compositions that her mother made her learn. Sure, she didn't learn everything that her mother wanted her to learn, having been sent to this school, but she knew that if she came home, knowing some more of the compositions that her mother loved, maybe she could patch things up with her mom. Her mother basically stopped talking to her when she found out of her problems, probably in denial that she'd done such a thing to herself.

She smiled a little bit as he began talking of all the things that he knew how to play, "Awesome.. it's the same with me, my mother fell inlove with the piano at a young age and taught me, but I also know guitar." Everytime she met someone that knew how to play an instrument, no matter what kind, it excited her to know that so many people had wanted to know how to play music. She had such a passion for music it seemed unreal sometimes, even to herself. She was addicted, in a sense. She missed the days that her family would all play together. They would just randomly start playing notes, or chords, and come up with some silly song. Her little sister had loved it, but they stopped when both she and Conner had gotten into highschool. It was obvious why; Conner got into all of the bad things, and she just followed him, not wanting to lose the great relationship with her brother, but she lost it anyway.

Hope quickly moved over for him as he told her to do, a cute little smile coming to her lips as he started talking about how she just had to hear Symphony No. 40. Her eyes followed his fingers as he played the music, listening to it. She'd heard it before, her mother being able to play it, but she was always eager to hear someone else play a song as well. One day, she would learn the song, just for the hell of it. It was a nice song, upbeat and all of that. She didn't always play the slow pieces that she had been playing when the boy had first walked in. Sure, she loved playing them, but she liked the classics and upbeat songs as well. They put her into a good mood.

Her eyes drifted up to his when he finished playing and she said, "That was really good." She always felt obligated to tell someone what she thought of their music, and most of the time it would always be a compliment. Even if she didn't like how someone played, she would say, 'It was a nice effort,' trying to be nice. Or she would just change the subject all together, "I promise I won't tell anyone," although she didn't understand why he didn't want anyone to know that he played. He was good, but maybe it was just something that he didn't share with many people. If so, she was glad that she got to know, atleast. Besides, he didn't seem like the type that would play anyway, or know anything about piano, and he probably wanted people to keep thinking that, "My name is Hope, and you are?" She said, politely. Things seemed to be going well, and she certainly hoped they stayed this way.

tagged. isaac
outfit. click.
notes.
credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy *

[/size][/blockquote]

[isaac mason brexton]

"It's sort everywhere though, isn't it?" he said, posing a rhetorical question. Guitars certainly were a popular instrument but Zac didn't care terribly much. He had a guitar back home but he didn't bring it with him. He didn't bring much at all with him but it didn't matter, music was good and all but there were other things in the world.

The shocking part of all this was that Zac was having a conversation where he wasn't swearing after every second word. It was a bit of an accomplishment but he knew he wouldn't last. This was a nice intermission to a long tiring day but he knew he would go back to being himself after a nice long sleep. It was just the way things were.

For a piece of music that usually took a little longer to play, Zac was done with it in less than two minutes. He had sped it up enough to get through most of it and without any sheet music to look at either but then being one of his mother's favourite pieces it wasn't hard to believe that he boy might have memorised it for her benefit. In fact, Zac was fairly certain that he could even play it with his eyes shut.

"Nah," Zac said, getting up from the seat. It was alright, he wouldn't call it 'good' but then he did judge himself a little more harshly that others might, even if it was only to better himself by expecting more. It worked out well though. He did alright in school. He wasn't a straight A student but he wasn't failing any of his subjects.. At least not yet, and with all the things he did, all the fights and being a menace to society etc, it was a pretty good accomplishment, not that he would ever let anyone in on that.

"Name's Zac," he told her, back in his previous spot now, leaning against the piano. He had better things to do that to let the world in on that part of him. That was reserved for home and his family. The only ones who saw the nice Zac were his parents and his little sister. He would never swear inside the house or around them and to anyone else, it would seem like that Zac was a completely different person but it didn't matter to him.

[victoria hope jean]

Hope bit her bottom lip and nodded her head. It was true, there were guitar players everywhere, herself being one of them. But she didn't care, she still loved to hear someone play the instrument. It was just a shame to her that people always picked an instrument that everyone played. She'd met many people, just here at Hawthorne, that knew how to play the guitar. Yeah, she wished that more people were interested in the piano, with it's beautiful playing, but it didn't seem to be the case. No matter, though.

She only knew her family and now Zac; the people that could play piano. She knew that there had to be more people around here that knew how to play. She remembered telling someone in chat, Danni she thought it was, that she wanted to teach him how to play. Because he thinks that he isn't talented in any way whatsoever. But it's a lie, she knew that people were always talented, in their own way. They just had to find it. She always tried to look for the good in people. It was a good trait, and a bad one at the same time. Sometimes, people were just... bad. Kind of like Cameron, she thought of. That girl was just scary.

Hope shook her head from the thoughts and looked back over at Zac, who was now in his previous place. She smiled slightly when he said 'nah', disagreeing with her. She knew, however, that it was good. Hell, she couldn't even play that piece in such a short amount of time. She couldn't even play the piece, but she wanted to learn. She wasn't going to ask him to teach her, however. She was a stubborn girl, thinking that she didn't need help with anything. She thinks that she can do all things herself, not with anyone helping her. However, it always proves her wrong sometimes. Like, she would almost always ask her roommate for help with homework.

"Well, it's a a pleasure to meet you, Zac," She said with a smile. She was always happy when she met someone new, no matter if they grew to hate one another. Right now, however, things seemed to be going well. She hoped that it stayed that way, too. She would like to keep atleast somewhat of a friendship with another person that could play piano. But, apparently it wouldn't happen often. He didn't want anyone to know, and she respected that.
.
tagged. isaac
outfit. click.
notes. this post is shit.
credits. carolyn's sweet blasphemy *

[/size][/blockquote]

[isaac mason brexton]

Zac didn't think he was that good at it, at least not compared to his mother who in his opinion was practically a saint. He loved his family but that something that he hardly ever shared with anyone. It was a part that just didn't quite fit right. It seemed mismatched compared to the rest of him and often all of that, the piano playing, the family, it was all kept inside a little box and locked away.

Where he lived this was more about survival. A bad ass attitude kept you safer because it meant that people would generally kept out of your way instead of pushing you around. Unfortunately that was the case. Isaac often found himself in fights and then later getting into trouble for it and of course facing the disappointment from his parents that often followed but it didn't matter. It was just how things were and he was used to that.

In a way he was pretty self-sufficient. He didn't like to rely on anyone and if he had a problem it's work it all out on his own. The only issue with that was the fact that it often ended in a fight and of course that only went one of two ways. One, they left him along after that and two, they got all their friends in on it too. The latter wasn't a good thing and had left Zac with a few injuries and scars over the years but he didn't care.

"Yeah whatever," he said, deciding then it was probably bad to just slip back into being quite rude, "Nice to meet you too," he forced himself to saw. "I gotta go get some sleep," he told her, before moving away to head to the door. He didn't do nice conversations with people who weren't in his immediate family. So it could only last so long before he wanted to go find something else to do.