» TAKE A LOOK AT ME NOW //

[chip]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,300] OPEN | LALALALALALALA  Charles Jordan Winchester was a well respected, liked, and adjusted young man.  Or, that was the image he conveyed to his parents and their friends, his girlfriend, her family and friends. In reality, Chip was a fraud. He hated that word, it sounded so accusatory, but it was also so fitting. That, and coward. But you couldn't blame him, really. If they all found out that he dropped out of college, it would be like a domino effect. One would tell the other before he was ready to admit to it, his entire life would come down crumbling around him. His girlfriend would dump him, his parents would alienate him, he'd be totally alone, it seemed. Of course, he had a few friends of his own, but he was too polite and rigid (though not on purpose) to have all that many good pals.  It was lack of knowledge on how to loosen up, mostly. Never something his parents taught him, never was it entirely easy to him. However, making music always calmed him down, always made him more comfortable, the only time that he could really loosen up. Maybe he wasn't making all that much money, but for once in his life he was actually doing what he wanted to do. And it was.. peaceful.  Until the music stopped, and he had to face reality again, the reality that he was basically hiding his entire life from everyone he cared most about. That part of his life sucked. And “sucked” was not a word that Chip used often. It sounded vulgar, honestly. Even though no one nowadays used the word nor cared whether or not something was vulgar, for whatever reason, Chip did. Couldn't ask him why, he didn't even really know.  Right now, however, was basically the best part part of his day when he was off work, (because no one loved their job more than Chip) because piano was what he really loved. Playing guitar on the street, by the break wall, free-styling, sometimes even dancing a little to his own music, people actually paying attention to his talent, actually caring about it. Rarely did he play something that he didn't write himself, but when he did, he usually sang along. Now, however, he was playing something he was making up right there on the spot. He had his guitar case open for donations (he wasn't begging, honestly, but he'd gotten them before when he hadn't even been expecting it and now they were very welcome, knowing that when he told his girlfriend, he'd be out of a house and home), and he was nodding his head, an actual legitimately peaceful smile (which if you knew him, “peaceful smile” were not words usually, or ever, describing him) on his face as he played. This was what he gave up his life for, and to be honest, he was glad he did, even if everything else in his life was no longer a constant. It was worth it, happiness. He hadn't known how worth it before.

[/justify][/center]
[/td][/tr][/table]

[mel3]

Meredith hated tomatoes.
They were perfectly healthy, delicious when salted and went well with just about everything. And she absolutely hated them.
Well, to be honest, she didn't loathe the fruit so much as she hated wringing it out of her hair. Damn juices got everywhere, the seeds clung and she smelled like she'd spent most the day in a Heinz 57 factory. Awesome. Just awesome.
Protestors these days seem to be far less appreciated than they used to be, or so Merie thought. Since when was free expression such a crime? Sitting where she was on the break wall, watching some guy play guitar, she found it unfair that just because his opinions were pretty meant that no one through tomatoes at him.
Meredith spent a good deal of her time trying to raise awareness on everything from feminism to vegetarianism to the working conditions of your average soldier. So she was a hippie? So what. Didn't mean people had to throw tomatoes at her for picketing in front of the town hall, trying to get people to start standing up and asking questions about the poverty war vets were living in. Truly, it was grotesque how the government cast aside their work force like rags, and Meredith wanted it stopped.
She wanted the cruel, unjust killing of animals stopped.
She wanted North Korea to go away.
She wanted children who were abused to be put into a system that actually cared.
Sighing, Meredith realized she wanted a lot that she would probably never be able to get. Hell, she lived in Capeside, Massachusetts. Not exactly making any global, headline news here.

Standing, she decided that wallowing in her own self pity was just as bad as giving up, which, no matter how useless he cause was, she vowed she'd never do.
So, instead, she walked down the break wall to where that guy she'd been watching earlier was jamming out on his guitar. Meredith dropped a dollar into his open case and took a seat nearby, all the while still threading her fingers through her hair in search of tomato seeds. "You play beautifully," She murmured, caught between wanting to talk to the stranger and scared of interrupting.

[chip]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,300] MEL AS MEREDITH | SORRY THIS KIND OF SUCKS  Usually, people just passed by, once in a while they'd stop and watch and smile and toss a dollar into Chip's guitar case. It wasn't actually very often when he had people stop and sit and watch him play, as this one young woman had decided on doing, sitting and watching him and picking through her hair after dropping a dollar in his case. He smiled charmingly over at her before she spoke, and he didn't let that bother his playing. "Why, thank you." He said, his British accent just as thick as it always was. It seemed that a lot of people were shocked when they heard him speak for the first time. Apparently, Brits rarely moved from England to live in Massachusetts, and Americans could be terrifying at times when they wanted to hear his accent. Which he never really undestood. But he complied, because he didn't want to die or anything.   "For the dollar, and the compliment, I mean." He grinned at her softly. "Any requests from the generous pretty lady?" He asked, his eyebrows raised, his fingers still moving along the guitar as before. Not a lot could stop him from playing his guitar, not talking, not replying, not unless he was asked to hold off. Of course, then he would stop, he wasn't going to be impolite like that, he would never even consider doing something like defying a direct question. He was incredibly obedient, in that respect. Plus, it didn't take much to intimidate him or scare him out of his wits, whichever came first.   Otherwise, though, he could play despite practically anything. Conversations usually didn't occur when he played, though, people either kept walking or looked captivated, which made Chip just want to play even more than ever. The fact that he could actually captivate someone was just absolutely mind-blowing to him, who had no one other than his (secret, sadly enough) music teacher to ever even give a crap about his very obvious musical talent. But Chip wasn't complaining, he rarely ever even considered thinking about complaining.

[/justify][/center]
[/td][/tr][/table]

[mel3]

Before joining the guitar player, Meredith had considered calling Xave. He was her best friend and secretly, she might have had a little thing for him. Calm, gentle and kind, she was really the opposite of her ostentatious, opinionated self. Which was probably why he'd never see her as anything but a sort of sister, or loud-mouthed buddy.
Nothing went all that well for Meredith. Not that she was some sad, moany whiny person. In fact, the only person she really spoke to about her problems was Xave. Internally, though, her problems were basically constantly at the front of her mind, demanding to be solved. It sort of distracted her from having fun or... enjoying herself or... fun... stuff. So, really, it all just sucked.

The guitar player, who ever he was, was a sort of gift to her current self-loathing mood. He smiled and spoke with one of the most beautiful accents she'd ever heard. "You're welcome," She said with a light smile. "Requests, huh?" Chewing her lip thoughtfully, she ran through her mental playlist. Meredith liked loud, obnoxious music guaranteed to annoy most people. Not screamo, but blaring rock anthems that spoke of free speech, free love and free life. It took her a while to find a band that was a little more bluesy, or at least a little tamer. "Do you know anything by NEEDTOBREATHE? Or maybe The SteelDrivers?" She asked, her voice low as she watched his fingers pick out some kind of abstract, but beautiful melody. Definitely nothing she'd heard before, but she liked it. Meredith had liked to pretend she was a musical connoisseur, but it seemed that at every corner she was bumping into musical prodigies. Xave, his brother, now this fella... She seriously needed to spend her next weekend just raiding the nearby music stores and rebuilding her playlists.

Guitar-Guy was fun to watch. He was almost half a foot taller than her, and well-built. She wondered absently what this man was doing here. Clearly not from around here-- was he homeless? If so, what had brought him here? Why Capeside? What was his story? Mereidth had the obnoxious habit of being something of a shameless snoop, so she couldn't help when a question or two tumbled from her lips "Who are you?" She paused, before adding, "My name's Merie," Mah-ree. Often said Marry. Meredith always hated when people used her full name, but she hated it even more when people said her nickname wrong.
God, she hated a lot of things. It was like she was turning into her mother. The thought gave leave to a shudder. Nope, you hate nothing. You love everything. You skip through fields of flowers and sing songs in the rain and hug strangers. Yep. Nothing like that old coot.

(notes: two threads, ftw)

[chip]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,300] MEL AS MEREDITH | LOL YEAHH  Charles played absentmindedly as he waited patiently for her response in his inquiry for requests. To his surprise, she actually had one. NEEDTOBREATHE he'd heard of, probably the second one, as well, but he couldn't think of it right off. Nodding, he turned his made up melody into the first NEEDTOBREATHE song that came to mind without even pausing: Prisoner. A particular favorite of his, and he smiled as he played it. Requests weren't really something that happened a lot for him, but when they did, he was always happy as ever to please.  He looked back up from his guitar as she asked him who he was, but before he could reply, she introduced herself. Merie. That was pretty. Sounded rather French. Maybe it was a nickname. Chip hadn't thought about introducing himself before, the question had never been brought to his attention before. But really, he wasn't too worried. She probably wasn't going to tell his parents if she recognized his name, she'd probably never even heard of them before. And it was just a first name, or a nickname really, right? No, nothing to worry about at all. “Pleasure to meet you, Merie.” He told her, being sure to try and get her name right (because he had a bit of a problem with pronouncing things correctly a lot, it seemed). “I'm Chip.” he answered simply, smiling at her again.  Chip wasn't a very common nickname, he knew. He wasn't even sure how he'd gotten it. If he remembered correctly, it was from an old mate in grade school, and it had just stuck. Charles sounded so old, though, like a seventy year old's name, and even though Chip often acted or felt like a seventy year old, it still wasn't very fitting. And Charlie was so overused, though not bad, he didn't mind it if people preferred calling him that. But Chip was different, more unique. He liked it, it gave him a feeling of being unique, which was nice, not something that he often really felt.  Chip noticed observantly as she shuddered a little and his smile faded softly, wondering why that could be. It wasn't quite cold outside, it was rather closer to warm, in his opinion, but he wasn't really paying attention to the weather anyway. “Everything all right?” he asked worriedly, his eyebrows knitting together and his fingers slowing on the guitar a little, not wanting to stop playing but feeling like he ought to if something was the matter.

[/justify][/center]
[/td][/tr][/table]

[mel3]

As Charles started lightly jamming to Prisoner, her mood picked up a considerable amount. The tune was fast and filled with melodic footwork that most people would get a little mixed up in. As he played, she absently tapped the drumline against her thigh. One good thing about music lessons since she could so much as breathe; she could follow a tune and had a good ear. Unfortunately, her talent wasn't natural like Xave or Chip's. Music didn't have the meaning for her that it did for them, but at least she wasn't lost in the field.
She smiled with amusement as his accent mangled her nickname. His pitch dropped the Mer- part of her name, almost as if he'd hit a bump in the road while saying it. It was sort of endearing though, so she wasn't bothered by it. "Chip? I don't think I've ever met anyone named Chip before." It was almost hickish. Reminiscent of Chip and Bobby or Chippendale. Not that this Chip conjured up images of pigs and tractors, but the name itself clashed with his polite musical manner. She'd expected Sebastien, or Dante. Not that Chip was a bad name. In fact, in an odd way, it suited him. She just hadn't seen it coming.

Chip was a surprisingly perceptive boy. Meredith hadn't even been aware of her own gusty sigh until he'd asked. Laughing gaily, she just said, "No, no," and waved her hand with unnecessary force, "just got a chill. Nothing to worry about." No way would she admit that she was talking about her evil witch of a mother. The day she allowed that woman to become the main point of any conversation of Meredith was the day she would pitch herself off the Boston Bridge. "I'm more interested in..." She gestured vaguely to Chip, "this. What brings you to America?" It befuddled her that a perfectly presentable english gent (he didn't look malnourished, unwashed or desperate) would turn up as a street musician in the small dinky town of Capeside, Massachusetts. There was something more there, and Meredith was nothing if not nosey.
Not to be mistaken for a gossip, Merie was simply a fountain of interesting anecdotes and facts. She loved odd stories, riddles and secrets. The only thing that kept her from being completely hated by everyone that was once she unearthed someone's dirt, she left it be. Spreading rumors was hardly any fun-- hearing them was the fun stuff.

[chip]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,300] MEL AS MEREDITH | HOPE IT'S OKAY!  Chip grinned again as she commented on his nickname. “I don't think I've ever met anyone named Merie before.” he said lightly, chuckling. “It's Charles. The name Chip came around grade school years, I think.” he elaborated, just because he felt the need to clear things up, as per usual. He nodded as she laughed and gaily waved her hand to the side, dismissing his worry, and he picked the speed on his guitar again. It'd seemed a little more to him than a sigh and she seemed to use a little more force than necessary to wave her arm in the air. But Chip wouldn't dare say anything about it. He tilted his head to the side, eyebrows raised as she asked  even more questions about himself. Well, she certainly was pressing, wasn't she? But she looked genuinely interested, not just nosy, so Chip wasn't bothered by her asking at all. In fact, it was actually pretty nice for some random person on the street to be interested, since not a lot of other people seemed to be.  Not that he wouldn't ever not answer anyway, that would just be rude. “Me? Well, technically, my parents. Sophomore year.” he admitted, shrugging slightly. “My father got a job offer, it led us to Capeside, and we've been here ever since.” He told her with a nod. His dad never asked him if he wanted to go, he'd never thought that it would be important to consider his son. Charles had been simply told that they were moving to America a week or two before they did. Chip wasn't exactly thrilled about it, but not a negative word came out of his mouth about the whole ordeal. In fact, up until he'd quit college the only time he'd rebelled was when he snuck out for music lessons of all things. And he still didn't have the guts to tell his parents. The only person he'd told was his girlfriends' little sister,  and even then it had been an accident. He'd already had everyone's reactions: his mother would cry, his father would disown him, his girlfriend would dump him.. his quitting college would mean a lot more to them than it was to him, who'd never wanted to be a doctor, only a musician.

[/justify][/center]
[/td][/tr][/table]

[mel3]

He'd never heard her name before? That was hard to believe, seeing at it was so close to Mary and Mari. Then again, he was foreign. "Charles, huh?" She said, nodding with understanding. That made more sense. She'd actually wondered if his birth name had been Chip. They existed, of course-- men who were born with such names. He just hadn't stricken her as the type, and sure enough, she was right.
She appreciated his ability to let a situation drop. Unlike Meredith, Chip didn't seem to have an affinity for digging around in other people's business. Hypocritical as it may be, Meredith liked to keep her own life private, all the while rifling through the contents of other's histories and futures.

With every word the man said, her picture of his was slowly beginning to make more sense. So he wasn't a sad, lonely man, come to the states to give good, real music to the poor and unhealthy. He just did this for fun. Not that that was bad-- Meredith simply had a tendency to make fantasies when she was presented with open-ended questions. "That must have been rough," She murmured, more to herself than him. She couldn't imagine coming here that late into your schooling. It was a whole new culture, with a whole new set of rules, people and ideals. The magnitude of such a move would have been impossible for her. Despite her plans to be something of a modern revolutionary, she wanted to do that from her hub here in Capeside. Traveling was all good and well, but she liked home. "Leave any one special behind?" She couldn't imagine that he hadn't.

It was a good deal obvious Chip was as old, if not older than Meredith. He had grown out of the slender build of a teen and now stood proudly-- albeit slightly slouched-- as a man. His face was clear of teenage insecurities and acne alike. If she'd had to guess, she'd place him fresh out of undergrad or in his senior year of college. She'd never remembered seeing him before, but if he'd moved her as a sophomore in his high school years, than he'd probably never been around her in school, seeing as he must have been at least two grades ahead of her. "So is this what you do now?" She gestured to the guitar, "Play on the street? Or is there some other plan?" Though Meredith couldn't believe music was just some passing hobby for a guy to seemed so passionate about it, there was always the chance he was actually studying medicine, or archeology or... oh, she didn't know, bugs? All Merie knew was that people often were the last thing you expected, and she was curious to see how often Chip would manage to defy her expectations.

[chip]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,300] MEL AS MEREDITH | HOPE IT'S OKAY!   Chip shrugged as Merie noted quietly how rough it must have been for him to move sophomore year. Even though it seemed like she was talking more to herself than him, he felt the need to defend his parents' choosing to move right in the middle of high school. “It wasn't too bad, I guess.” he said kindly, with a soft smile. His eyebrows raised as she asked him if he'd left anyone special behind, and he shook his head, his smile growing bigger, sheepishly. “Not particularly.” Chip had always been friendly, but never really popular in high school, he was always too busy with what his father wanted him to do, never quite what he or anyone else wanted. Of course, he'd had friends, but not all that many. There was a girl at one point, Adele Harnois, an exchange student from France, but she was one of the most popular girls in school and the only time she had ever spoken to Chip was when she asked to borrow a pencil. He had basically fallen over his own feet as he gave it to her and that was the last of that, if he hadn't given her a pencil she would have never even known of his existence. Chip chuckled quietly at the memory, shaking his head. “No, not anyone in particular at all.” Merie didn't look to be that much younger than himself, but he didn't remember ever seeing her in high school. Then again, Chip never really did all that much besides study in high school, so he probably wouldn't have noticed her anyway. He looked back up from the guitar to the girl as she continued talking, and he wrinkled his nose as he considered his answer. “Welll, this, and I play piano at some fancy hotel every once in a while. Piano is more my forte, I'd like to think, but it's much harder lugging it out here than my guitar.” he grinned. “There was once a probably better plan at one point, but it wasn't really mine, and it didn't end altogether well, and so here I am now.” he ended vaguely, knowing he probably sounded rather enigmatic but he didn't particularly feel like explaining himself any further unless she asked him to, and by the line of questions she'd been asking him, it would probably be asked. The other plan, if you'd ask his parents, was still in motion. Lying to his parents wasn't easy nor was it fun, but at least it kept him breathing, he figured.

[/justify][/center]
[/td][/tr][/table]

[mel3]

It bewildered Meredith that he could stand there and converse with her so casually while playing such perfect music. He was hitting all the right notes, his fingers deftly strumming the melody to a complex song, as if it were simple as breathing. For her, music had never been so... inherent. She'd had to put all of her concentration and focus to sound half as good as Chip did now. Lost in her distraction, her response was quiet and uncensored. "Maybe not too bad, but I'll bet it wasn't easy," People could brush off their pasts and the trials they'd over come easily, especially when they were modest like she assumed Chip to be. It had always bothered her when people belittled something important. That move, a continental leap, couldn't have been easy for Chip. Clearly, it hadn't be the end of the world, but it was harder than your average move.
Shaking her head and smiling lightly, she glanced away from him, up at the sky. "I don't know if it'd be better to leave someone behind or not," Meredith said, shading her eyes from the sun. "I mean, on one hand, having someone you love is so amazing. But if you didn't have anyone, then the moving would be easier." She'd always loved asking what-if questions. Ones that didn't and probably never would apply to her. Still, here she was, those same thoughts bubbling out of her mouth into the conversation.

She could picture Chip playing the piano-- it sort of fit his whole musical vibe-- but the guitar looked more like him. Then again, she'd only seen him playing a guitar and she was frightfully lacking in the creativity department. "I play the piano, violin and flute," Meredith sneered, sticking her tongue out, "Can't stand the latter two. I do enjoy the piano, though." Still, she'd bet her bottom dollar, even with out having seen him play, that Chip was better than her at it. And she'd been in lessons since she was four. "I'm just not the artsy sort, I guess." She envied those who were, however.

Chip's response was vague, and it piqued Meredith's curiosity. Tempted as she was to push him, however, she decided that if he wasn't saying anything, it was because he might not want it said. Sure, she stuck her nose in places they didn't belong, but she force her way in if they didn't want her there. Instead, she openly sympathized with his plight. "I know how that feels," She murmured, staring at her crossed ankles as she slouched on the break wall. "I was supposed to be a lawyer." The idea made her laugh, but not so much in a happy way.

[chip]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,300] MEL AS MEREDITH | HOPE IT'S OKAY!  Okay, so she got him there. Slowly, Chip nodded. "No, not altogether easy, I'll admit." He agreed as his fingers strummed another part of the song that he knew so well he didn't even have to think about. Chip hadn't been thrilled when he found out about it, but he hadn't really rebelled against the idea of moving somewhere where he could have a fresh start, maybe make some new American friends, they were supposed to be friendly, right? - Though, with his father pushing him to do so well in school, friends did not come as easily as he'd hoped. He nodded again as she continued. He didn't quite know how to respond to that. It made enough sense on it's own without his comment. She made a very good point, after all, one he never really thought much on.   She then went on to tell him which instruments she played, and he raised his eyebrows, smiling as she stuck out her tongue. "I wouldn't mind learning the violin or the flute, I don't think," especially since according to his parents he didn't know how to play any instruments, when he told them that he was quitting medical school to become a musician it would seem more impressive with two more tacked on instead of just the piano and guitar.  He'd kill for lessons in any muscial department, honestly, but he barely even had the money on his own to pay for his lessons as a child. If he'd asked his parents ( and on the 1 out of 100 percent chance that they'd agree to paying ) he wouldn't have any problem paying. Otherwise.. his allowance really didn't get him all that much time. His music teacher had proclaimed him a prodigy, however, and snuck in a lot of free lessons just because she loved him- or his pure talent he'd never been quite sure which more- so much. He was actually rather surprised as Merie sympathized with him. She didn't seem like the kind of person who'd let someone tell her what to do, but then again, he didn't really know her. “A lawyer, huh?” He tilted his head to the side as she laughed, though there wasn't much happiness in it. “I was supposed to be a neurosurgeon.” He admitted. Of course, the fear of blood was a bit of a hindrance in his studies, and if his parents ever paid attention, they'd have realized that by now.

[/justify][/center]
[/td][/tr][/table]

[mel3]

Meredith absently wondered how she'd feel if she were forced to move away from Capeside. Away from Heart's Desire Beach, the wharf, her friends, Xavier... It was her home. This place was the only place she felt happy. Due to to her parent's large wealth, she'd done plenty of traveling. It was all good and fine-- she liked sight-seeing. But was it so wrong that at the end of the day, all she really wanted to do was curl up in her own bed, in her own room, with its windows looking out over the ocean? The comforting sounds of the waves colliding with the cliffside, lulling her to sleep?

As they spoke of musical instruments, she couldn't help but grimace. "They aren't that great," She murmured, "I mean, unless you really love them," In which case, she supposed she could understand wanting to learn them. However, seeing as Merie loathed both instruments (the flute made her lips feel numb and the violin often hurt her fingers and made her shoulders sore), she wasn't going to campaign on their side. It was just one more protest she'd yet to make. "Piano is fun. I might enjoy the harp, too, but I doubt I'd have the patience for it."

If Merie were being honest, she knew her parents dream for her was not becoming a lawyer. In fact, their dream was for her to marry a lawyer. Land herself a loveless, yet secure marriage in which she could raise super smart, boring and well-behaved children and force them into lives of unfulfilling success. Yeah, no way was she going to do that.
The idea of Chip being a neurosurgeon made her grunt in a most unlady-like fashion. Sure, she'd known him for what, twenty minutes, and yet the idea was blatantly absurd. "Unless you can play guitar while operating, I don't think being a neurosurgeon is in the cards for you." It was clear as day that the boy belonged in a world of music, just as Merie belonged in a world of... well... freedom, she supposed.
In a way, she sort of wanted to rally behind him, encouraging him to continue to pursue his goals in the fashion he was-- playing music for people, even if it might not have been what his parents wanted. She refrained however, seeing as that might seem a bit odd, seeing as they were hardly close or anything. "I do wish that this world was as open-minded as it pretended to be," She said, rather vaguely. Her situation and Chip's, she felt, were eerily similar. If people, society, was just more open to to choice and change, maybe neither of them would have had to go against the wishes of others to be who they truly were.

[chip]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,300] MEL AS MEREDITH | HOPE IT'S OKAY! Chip smiled again as she disagreed with his love of the violin and flute. He wouldn't argue with her though, even though he disagreed. Then again, she probably knew better than him if she played them and he didn't, nor did he know how terrible they apparently could be. “Piano definitely is fun.” He grinned. As if he'd ever say anything negative about the piano. “The harp sounds like it could be fun, too.” He agreed this time, nodding softly. She didn't strike him as the type who had a lot of patience, so he smirked slightly as she admitted that she doubted she had the patience. Of course, she could always surprise him. He'd only known her for twenty minutes at the most, and he didn't like to make assumptions.  He laughed a little when she snorted, but bit his lips to stop himself from laughing any further. Oh, he would love to see his mother's reaction to this woman. She might just fall over and die. But Chip thought it was refreshing. Just because he still was unsure of how to act more natural and relaxed didn't mean he didn't appreciate people who were, they were like a breath of fresh air in Chip's proper life. “I rather thought so myself..” He agreed, shrugging. “If only it was possible to play people better, hm?” Now that would be nice. No blood, no knives, no needles, just play music to make everyone's pain and sickness go away. If Chip could figure out a way to do that, that would be a top-notch excuse for not being a neurosurgeon like his father.  Maybe he wasn't smart enough to be a healer, but at least he could make people happy with his music. Bringing a smile to people's faces was really all he wanted to do with his life. Plus, no matter what his father said, hospitals smelled funny. And they were still slightly terrifying. “No kidding.” He said in response to Merie's slightly vague but from what he got out of it, one hundred percent something Chip agreed with. “Everything would be so much easier, but who said life was easy, right? Still, you wouldn't see me complaining.” Like he ever complained publicly anyway. He'd rather eat nails. Although he still didn't see why it was that his parents were so adamantly against his being anything other than a surgeon, he rarely discussed it, except with apparently Merie and Jenna, though he really wasn't certain why they were the ones he'd decided on spilling to since Merie was a total stranger (even though she technically didn't know all of the details) and telling Jenna was purely an accident. Still.

[/justify][/center]
[/td][/tr][/table]

[mel3]

Nodding her head sharply, she said, "See, that's what's the difference between you and me,' She said knowledgeably, shifting so that she could get a better look at him, "I think being able to play an instrument would be fun. You think learning an instrument would be fun." Smiling gently, she couldn't help but laugh. "That's probably why I get tomatoes thrown at me and you don't." The comment was made jokingly, not self-deprecatingly. She was hardly pitying herself.

"Play people, huh?" She responded thoughtfully, chewing at her nub-like thumb nail. "I must admit, that conjures to mind visions of men with steel strings coming out of their noses and having hug hips." Watching a man transform into a bass in one's minds eye was not a pleasant thing. Nope. Not at all. Still, she couldn't help but laugh. Merie liked to think she was a happy person, despite all of her more serious misgivings.

Pointing a finger at him, she said pointedly, "Ah, but whoever said it was hard?" She'd heard 'life's not easy' a dozen times, if not in one day, than in one week. It was a common phrase. But who said 'it's a hard knock life' any more? No one. "I simply like to think of it as challenging," She liked her word choice, her pride evident on her face, "Makes waking up in the morning a little easier if I imagine throwing myself into an obstacle course rather than slave labor."

Sighing, she glanced down at her watch. It wasn't late yet, but if she stayed in the sun much longer, the food that still lingered on her would probably start to smell. Ew. "Hey, I gotta go," She said, coming around to face him. "Can I have your number? You seem like a cool guy." Not to mention he reminded her of Xave. Obviously, she wasn't sighing over him, but... well, you get the idea.

(notes: aughhh sorry it's so short. D: i suck big time at pushing plots forward. xD)

[chip]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,300] MEL AS MEREDITH | NO WORRIES! I LIKED IT =D Chip smiled at her words. “Well, the playing is fun, too.” he chuckled softly. “No, I've never had tomatoes thrown at me before.. but I can't imagine it would be much fun..” She didn't seem to be serious on the subject so he didn't say anything about it. Chip would personally, most likely never even have the thought to chuck a tomato at someone. Someone else doing so was just confusing to him to be quite honest. But oh well. Chip laughed at her idea of people as instruments, shaking his head. “Well, that certainly creates an interesting picture.” He said, kneading his eyebrows together as he grinned, imagining it himself. It seemed a bit terrifying, but at the same time, incredibly amusing. She certainly had quite an imagination, Chip probably would have never thought it like that without her saying such things. “Ah, you raise a valid point.” He raised his eyebrows. “Challenging. You know, I do think that is just about the perfect word for it.” Another smile as he finished off the song, where he flexed his fingers and rested them on his guitar quietly. Charles wasn't someone who really noticed a lot of things about people's behavior, but it was hard to miss the proud look on her face as she thought of the word, and he couldn't help but say something to at least try and please her even more. Making people happy was really all Chip wanted in life. Chip noticed her checking her watch, and his eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise as she asked for his phone number. This certainly was a day for surprises. “Oh! Sure, of course. Hold on..” He said pleasantly, pulling out his phone so he could look up his own cell number (which he could never remember on his own, musical notes were all that truly filled his head) and then he prattled it off for her. “It was truly nice meeting you,” He finished with another smile.

[/justify][/center]
[/td][/tr][/table]