Nicolas looked at William in silence for a while, but he was smiling. Not a mocking smile either. What could he do? He was kind of cute. He got out his lighter and lit William's cigarette first, then his own, slowly inhaling as he leaned his head back. "He's a big guy, Johnson. You better run fast."
Glancing at William he lifted his hand up, subtly showing him how to hold the cigarette. He felt kind of bad for having offered it now, but whatever. Not as if he'd made him take it. "You walked into him while writing? Right, that's you. I remember now. I think it's cool. Writing's not easy."
William followed instructions, holding it as he was shown and trying his best to look like he knew what he was doing. He leaned back, copying Nicolas's stance and manner, taking a long slow inhale just like Nicolas had. And then he choked. Coughing violently, his eyes watered and he pulled a face like it was the most horrendous thing he'd ever tried. Not that he was willing to admit that. "Yes, yes, these are lovely, aren't they? I do like a smoke."
Said the wheezing young man trying desperately to look like he was enjoying it. "No, it's really not easy. Hence why I'm somewhat of a laughing stock," Given his poetry had been rather embarrassingly outted. From it being stolen to the time he sent some to an unfortunately popular girl who shared it with everyone. "I'm not the best writer but I like to think I try." He took another inhale of his cigarette, only coughing lightly this time. What was the appeal of this? "How can one capture beauty when he has such lacking words that can't compare to his feelings?"
"I don't know, William. Wait until your feelings are numbed down enough just from living every day that it becomes easier. Then everything can just be cool, lame or boring and you'll fit right in with everyone else." Nicolas leaned his head back, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. He'd tell William to just stop smoking, but he seemed to have a lot of pride and he didn't want to hurt that. Not as if one cigarette would harm him that much.
"Trying's worth a lot. You'll just have to get used to feeling lonely a lot. Most people don't try."
"I don't think I'm capable of such bland indifference. I feel so many things inside me that ache to get out, I just want to express them, I want to make them fit. I suppose the ridicule can't be taken to heart. They may laugh at me but it won't deter me," William intended to write until he was good, until people didn't call him bloody awful. One day people would hear his work and enjoy it. He inhaled from his cigarette again, slowly starting to get a hang of it, though he didn't seem able to not cough after every deep breath.
"I'm okay with lonely, I've always been alone. It's a shame, really, I believe I'm often too loquacious for most of my peers," He laughed a little awkwardly, knowing he must have been sounding a right idiot. All anyone ever said to him was that he needed to learn to shut up and stop using so many big words. Maybe he should take their advise before Nicolas stopped tolerating him. Awkwardly pushing his glasses up his nose, he looked elsewhere. "Thank you very much for the cigarette. It's been illuminating to say the least."
"I'm the same, just with music. That's why I play until my fingers are bloody and it's still not right." He watched William, amused by how much he had this tendency to sound like a thesaurus, yet stay charming with his utter sincerity. "It's art, William, most people don't understand it. But, hey, if you can get people to hate it, that's at least a reaction. Your words aren't meaningless, even if they don't have the right meaning yet."
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Not really your thing, is it? It's a stupid waste of money anyway." He got out his wallet, searching through it until he found a little black plectrum. He handed it to William, actually pushed it into his hand and closed his fingers around it. "Take this to make up for pushing a cigarette on you. Just a plectrum, nothing special. Or it's a piece of my soul." Could be, dark as it was. He offered a smirk. "Either way. Nothing special."
"If it counts for anything, I think you're born to play. The way you do it is quite a feat. I can see your passion when you play, it makes you entirely--" The word escaped him. He debated it for a while, trying to think of the right word that fit Nicolas. "--Effulgent." Well, it wasn't a good word but it was a word that he felt fit. He looked at the cigarette in his hand and awkwardly dropped watched it, unsure how to put it down given it was still alight and a potential fire hazard. He really should have never of smoked inside.
"They're okay, I quite like them now I'm not choking, they're not so bad. Though mother should likely kill me if she smells smoke on my clothes," He smiled awkwardly, attempting to be as friendly as he could be. The plectrum was taken and he frowned at it, looking at it like it was the oddest thing. A gift? For him? How Marvellous! "It's wonderful, how very useful. I haven't played my guitar is a very long time, perhaps this will inspire me to reignite my more musical side." Nothing special was an understatement, it was the first token of anything he'd ever had from anyone who wasn't his mother. "If it's a piece of your soul then I'm honour bound to cherish it, much as I would if it was a gift."
"Effulgent. I like it. I'll be effulgent as long as I am anything at all then, because I can't let go of passion. Can't do much with it, mind." As he finished his own cigarette, he simply put it out against the wall and let it fall to the ground, not bothered by damaging school property. At this point, very little bothered him at all. It wasn't as if he'd return here after the next break.
"I didn't know you played guitar. All the better then. I'm glad to inspire." Nicolas had never seen anyone get this excited over what really amounted to just a strange conversation and a plectrum he'd kept around for no particular reason, it wasn't as if he had a guitar right now, but whatever. "My soul really isn't worth that much. But hey, if I end up selling it all one day, I'll at least know you're still keeping a peace safe."
It was hard to explain why he was excited, probably because this was the first proper conversation he'd had since he left junior school. Once he could blend in with his classmates, he could at least slide by with friendly conversation though he had never been a popular or beloved boy. But the older he got, the more different he was. Standing out didn't make him interesting, it just made him excluded. This conversation was the nicest one had in a very long time. Pathetic as that was. He stuffed the plectrum into his pocket to keep it safe, carefully placing his cigarette against the sole of his shoe to try and prevent any property damage. When it was finally dropped neatly into the bin, he looked at Nicolas with a smile.
"I'm not very good at playing, you'll probably never hear it and I'm sure you'll be thankful but I do like to dabble in and out. The arts are where I thrive," Or so he liked to think, they usually just interested him. "Selling your soul to the devil to be a better musician is a rather tired old tale, I doubt you'll rehash it. I'm sure with skills like yours that you'll never need to. I think you're too hard on yourself, nothing can be ideal but you're pretty close to perfect. That's impressive in the grand scheme."
"Sometimes I think that art is all that matters in the world." Nicolas wasn't sure what to do with the compliments, so freely given. He knew they weren't true, but he also knew that William seemed to believe them, so in the end he just smiled and thanked him. "That's very nice of you. I'll try to get better. I don't think I'll ever manage, but there's music in my head, might as well make something with it. And you'll keep writing, yeah? I want to read your words some day."
"I'm starting to think that my writing is a little daft, maybe I should pursue a different avenue if I should survive my brisk job home," For all his flaws and all his fears, William seemed surprisingly chipper. But then he always tried to be, a bright outlook got him further than being all doom and gloom ever had. With a soft smile, he moved in closer to Nicolas and offered his hand out, just trying to be as polite as possible. "I appreciate your pleasant words, Nicolas. I don't often get many of them. Our peers are not exactly enlightened, it's nice to talk to someone less egregious."
"I don't think you can give up on your writing just like that, can you? Not if you're driven enough to write while you walk and end up walking into football players. That's not a sign of lacking passion. Or a sign of survival skills for that matter." Nicki looked at William's hand, not quite sure why he was offering it, but he took it anyway. "You're the one who praised my music. Don't worry so much about our peers, William, we'll all grow up and one day you'll have a girl on every finger just because they hope you'll write a poem for them."
Yes, he had heard of William's luck with his crushes.
"I'm not the wisest of men but I will always try my best to be a thoughtful man," With a smile, he shook Nicolas's hand and finally pulled away, hands in his pockets, wishing he could spend more time with this boy. He was odd, sure, and he did the strangest things but he knew so few people who would be so nice to him. And truth was, Nicolas was a very handsome man... a thought of which William swiftly buried very deep, taking a step back to try and clear his mind. "You are too kind. I'm sure one day I will win the heart of the girl of my dreams but until then, I will keep on trying until I'm worthy."
Which could take a long time. His poetry was indeed bloody awful.
Nicolas laughed at that, pushing away from the wall so he could walk back to the piano. He picked his violin back up, still clearly amused, although not in a mocking way. "That's quite something, William. Most guys just keep trying until they find a girl that will actually do them." Crude, cynical, sure. Whatever, he was giving up on hiding who he was more and more every day. He got the sense that William was getting ready to leave, so he started playing again, only pausing once more.
"I'll be here practising every day, but don't let that stop you from hiding."
"That's not -- that is to say, it's not my goal," William went bright red, though whether that was the topic or the invite he'd just had, it was hard to say. It was just clear that William was awfully uncomfortable yet oddly not concerned or afraid. He checked his watch and took note of the time, wishing desperately that he didn't have to go. He wanted to hear him play again. But he supposed he had an invitation to return. With a shy smile, William ducked his head. "I won't. I may be back tomorrow if I walk into another Neanderthal. I'm sure your music will soothe all my problems."
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Date: 2015-10-02 11:00 pm (UTC)Glancing at William he lifted his hand up, subtly showing him how to hold the cigarette. He felt kind of bad for having offered it now, but whatever. Not as if he'd made him take it. "You walked into him while writing? Right, that's you. I remember now. I think it's cool. Writing's not easy."
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Date: 2015-10-02 11:06 pm (UTC)Said the wheezing young man trying desperately to look like he was enjoying it. "No, it's really not easy. Hence why I'm somewhat of a laughing stock," Given his poetry had been rather embarrassingly outted. From it being stolen to the time he sent some to an unfortunately popular girl who shared it with everyone. "I'm not the best writer but I like to think I try." He took another inhale of his cigarette, only coughing lightly this time. What was the appeal of this? "How can one capture beauty when he has such lacking words that can't compare to his feelings?"
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Date: 2015-10-02 11:10 pm (UTC)"Trying's worth a lot. You'll just have to get used to feeling lonely a lot. Most people don't try."
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Date: 2015-10-02 11:21 pm (UTC)"I'm okay with lonely, I've always been alone. It's a shame, really, I believe I'm often too loquacious for most of my peers," He laughed a little awkwardly, knowing he must have been sounding a right idiot. All anyone ever said to him was that he needed to learn to shut up and stop using so many big words. Maybe he should take their advise before Nicolas stopped tolerating him. Awkwardly pushing his glasses up his nose, he looked elsewhere. "Thank you very much for the cigarette. It's been illuminating to say the least."
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Date: 2015-10-02 11:31 pm (UTC)He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Not really your thing, is it? It's a stupid waste of money anyway." He got out his wallet, searching through it until he found a little black plectrum. He handed it to William, actually pushed it into his hand and closed his fingers around it. "Take this to make up for pushing a cigarette on you. Just a plectrum, nothing special. Or it's a piece of my soul." Could be, dark as it was. He offered a smirk. "Either way. Nothing special."
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Date: 2015-10-02 11:45 pm (UTC)"They're okay, I quite like them now I'm not choking, they're not so bad. Though mother should likely kill me if she smells smoke on my clothes," He smiled awkwardly, attempting to be as friendly as he could be. The plectrum was taken and he frowned at it, looking at it like it was the oddest thing. A gift? For him? How Marvellous! "It's wonderful, how very useful. I haven't played my guitar is a very long time, perhaps this will inspire me to reignite my more musical side." Nothing special was an understatement, it was the first token of anything he'd ever had from anyone who wasn't his mother. "If it's a piece of your soul then I'm honour bound to cherish it, much as I would if it was a gift."
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Date: 2015-10-02 11:56 pm (UTC)"I didn't know you played guitar. All the better then. I'm glad to inspire." Nicolas had never seen anyone get this excited over what really amounted to just a strange conversation and a plectrum he'd kept around for no particular reason, it wasn't as if he had a guitar right now, but whatever. "My soul really isn't worth that much. But hey, if I end up selling it all one day, I'll at least know you're still keeping a peace safe."
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Date: 2015-10-03 12:06 am (UTC)"I'm not very good at playing, you'll probably never hear it and I'm sure you'll be thankful but I do like to dabble in and out. The arts are where I thrive," Or so he liked to think, they usually just interested him. "Selling your soul to the devil to be a better musician is a rather tired old tale, I doubt you'll rehash it. I'm sure with skills like yours that you'll never need to. I think you're too hard on yourself, nothing can be ideal but you're pretty close to perfect. That's impressive in the grand scheme."
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Date: 2015-10-03 12:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-10-03 12:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-10-03 12:33 am (UTC)Yes, he had heard of William's luck with his crushes.
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Date: 2015-10-03 12:45 am (UTC)Which could take a long time. His poetry was indeed bloody awful.
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Date: 2015-10-03 12:50 am (UTC)"I'll be here practising every day, but don't let that stop you from hiding."
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Date: 2015-10-03 12:57 am (UTC)