|
Post by noah on Jul 13, 2011 20:58:56 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true][atrb= background, i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd490/missbluejayway/beat/NEWMIDDLE.jpg]
A fish out of water, that's what he was. Without a mic in front of him and a record playing by his side, Noah felt a bit...funny. He had gotten used to being at the studio all the time. When he wasn't broadcasting, he was helping one of the other DJ's spin some records and make small talk.
God, he hadn't even been home in three days.
Noah was literally living at the studio.
"That's not good," He muttered to himself as he walked briskly down the street, a cigarette hanging from his nicotine stained fingers. Chronic chain smoking did that to a person. Thinking it would fix the problem, Noah switched hands and shoved his usual smoking hand into his pocket. Hide the evidence. Existence is limited to perception.
Noah could not percieve his hand ergo, it did not exist. Noah paused and pulled his hand back out of his pocket. He didn't want his hand not to exist. He need that hand to do his job, to play rock 'n' roll and what have you.
Passing by a group of pretty little ladies, Noah gave them a rackish wink and puffed a smoke ring at them. They looked away full of giggles and Noah was smug. So smug, in fact that he didn't notice the person he was headed right for. Returning his focus to the walkway, Noah let out a curse and clumsily side stepped the person in front of them. In his haste, his trainer snubbed the sidewalk and sent him sprawling.
RIIIIP
"Oi!" Noah snapped. "I tore my trousers. These were brand new," Noah turned over so he sat on his rump and stuck his thumb through the hole on his knee. It wasn't a big hole and it wouldn't look terrible with a patch job but he had a right to be upset. He spent 40 quid on those trousers. And he was on his way to celebrate the purchase with oily fish and chips and a good pint.
POST: done ! - TAG: John - NOTES: I love love love the template and the fact that Noah gets to thread with a Beatle xD
|
|
|
|
Post by nobie on Jul 17, 2011 22:04:30 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,458,true][atrb= background, i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd490/missbluejayway/beat/TMIDDLE.png]It had been a loooong, tire some, uneventful day in the life of John Winston Lennon. And even perhaps that was far too exciting a title to properly describe how his day had gone. Since John had set foot outside that door, he had been running over every little detail of the twelve previous hours (which hadn’t taken long considering how little he had been allowed to do) looking for what had gone wrong. It might have had something to do with a particular knock on the door around six that morning. Followed by a few “kind” words upon the interview they had booked that morning. Something along the lines of ”John, Paul, you’d better be up by the time I’m ready or you’re better off marking tallies in them walls, cause you’re not going anywhere if we’re late.” Which had been enough to cause an inhuman growl from the sleepy guitarist, and the younger bassist’s hand hitting him in the stomach. Accompanied by his own low grumble of disturbed sleep in order to wake John up. But it was clear neither were even considering moving from that bed. So of course, neither John nor Paul stirred. John slowly pulling the pillow over his face and ignoring Paul’s violent attempts to wake him. After awhile (so John figured) both boys had hopelessly fallen back to sleep without taking any heed to Brian’s threats. It’s quite safe to say John’s day had entailed little more than being bound to the flat with a grumpy Brian Epstein who had missed most of their “important” interview due to the sleeping mishaps of two unruly children. Paul of course blamed John, and John didn’t give much thought about it, until it came to the fact that… well… He was bored out of his mind.At Twelve sharp, there came a phone call. It was a long conversation that John had plotted to extend at last five minutes between their manager and some other Bloke… taking Brian to another room to talk. But it would only take John two minutes to slip out the door. He was sure, that if he stayed, he’d flip his lid and do something he’d come to regret. Brian had grounded him and Paul for Christ’s sake. How degrading was that? On swift, booted feel, John shoved his hands deep in his coat pockets and trudged on. Turning down street corners and humming out loudly. As though no one else mattered but him on these busy London Streets. He practically hogged the path. Walking right down its center and not dodging anyone or thing that came opposite of him, causing people to practically have to dive off the sidewalk to get by. But the man with the deadpan glare kept on. His face level on his shoulders, stride long and surefooted. Head somewhere off in sugar plumb fairy land, far out of sight...untill. ”Oi! I tore my trousers. These were brand new,” John snapped back into reality when he was just about knocked down by a man who also had not been looking at his path. Though luckily for John, it was the other bloke who took a dive, and not himself. He stumbled forward, trying his best not to trip over the man. ”Didn’t yer mother ever teach you t’watch where the hell yer going?” John snapped back. Hazel eyes now full of fire. But mind snatching up quick replies that he held at aim. Just in case he were to fight back. ”I have the right mind t’thump you, y’know.” he took a step back and brushed himself off where he had been knocked into. After a few moments of self assessment, John’s attention slowly fell back onto the man. His gaze cooled down a bit and his expression softened. ”You al’ight, mate?”POST: done ! - TAG: Noah <33 - NOTES: 633 Words. and call me vein, but I adore the plot of this post XDDD NGL He's kind of grumpy today LOL ITS 1:30AM NOW... SLEEP TIME.
|
|
|
|
Post by noah on Jul 18, 2011 16:08:49 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true][atrb= background, i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd490/missbluejayway/beat/NEWMIDDLE.jpg]
Noah brushed himself off, bemoaning the loss of his cigarette. It lay crumpled on the ground now. Never mind the trousers, that was a perfectly good fag! Noah got to his feet, dusting himself off and looking himself over for more bumps. Seeing nothing, Noah finally looked at the man. "'M fine mate. Sorry 'bout that. Saw a flock pretty birds, found myself a bit distracted," Noah opted for a lazy grin.
He recognized the guy he had almost bulldozed over. John Lennon of the Beatles. Brian's John Lennon of the Beatles. Lazy grin turning into mischeivous grin, Noah stuck out a hand jauntily. "Noah 'Sandman' Cavanaugh, at your service," Befriending a Beatle wouldn't be a bad thing. 'Specially when the Beatle in question had that little edge that Noah loved. That walking on sunshine, don't have a care in the world edge. Bit like Noah, exact opposite of Brian. It was a wonder that either of them got along with the obsessive manager.
"You're running from Brian I take it?" Noah felt like he didn't need to advertise that he knew who the other man was. It was probably very obvious. Almost everyone knew who John Lennon was and about a third of them knew who Noah was, by voice at least. None of them actually knew what he looked like. Good thing too, otherwise he might run into problems getting mobbed on the streets.
Note to self: look up the word modest in the dictionary and apply it to regular life.
It really wasn't his fault people were so obsessive. John Lennon inspired fits in women across the UK, Noah Cavanaugh always liked to think that he did the same (in men and women, of course).
POST: done ! - TAG: John - NOTES:None at the mo. Too lazy to check word count xD
|
|
|
|
Post by nobie on Jul 18, 2011 20:55:29 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,458,true][atrb= background, i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd490/missbluejayway/beat/TMIDDLE.png]Hazel eyes watched suspiciously as the other man got back to his feet and brushed himself off. He rolled those eyes at the man’s moan, having lost his fag. He tossed his head off to the side to catch these birds the man had been caught up on. A small, gradual grin came to his lips and he mouthed a “hello” to them. Hand coming up and fingers dancing in a childish wave. But the girls didn’t seem to mind. They giggled into their hands and began whispering to one another. John laughed and turned back to Noah. ”Done that a’few times meself,” he chuckled back, shoving his hands back into his deep pockets and rocking back on his heels. John had never been one to care who knew and who was clueless when he went out. Plus; he wrinkled his nose, remembering the dark sunglasses upon the bridge of his nose. He was doubtful anyone would really recognize him from a far. But that look in Noah’s eyes made his heart drop. He seemed familiar with who John was, even before he shared his name. Great. If this sod knew, then who else would recognize He straightened his back and stared down at the hand that was shoved his way. Needless to say, John’s mood was not getting any better. He stared at the hand for a moment longer, but did nothing more. He didn’t do much of anything beside listen until Noah mentioned Brian. That’s right… the name “sandman” did sounds familiar now that he thought about it. But being John, he never did catch everything that wasn’t at his priority. ”as usual,” he winked once and clicked his tongue. Though he was still rather weary of this character, he couldn’t help but be slightly friendly. He didn’t seem… threatening… but neither did he seem to be anything of great interest. But John figured, if anything, he’d at least humor the guy. ”Aye. Far, faaaaar away. Slept in and got a slap on the wrist. Well… and a grounding.” he tilted his head and focused on something behind Noah as he spoke. He slowly came back to Noah and laughed, ”Know us, do you? Where you head’n to?,”POST: done ! - TAG: Noah <33 - NOTES: --- .
|
|
|
|
Post by noah on Jul 27, 2011 23:56:19 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true][atrb= background, i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd490/missbluejayway/beat/NEWMIDDLE.jpg]
Noah gave a shrug and looked around. "Know Epstein at least. Bloke never shuts up about his 'boys'," Noah had originally been heading for home but the idea didn't seem so appealing now. His apartment was functionally boring. Great place to sleep though, no distractions. "He's my best mate. 'M a little hurt he hasn't wagged his jaw 'bout me more," Noah gave a quick, superficial pout the replaced the look with a smile. No use complaining really. Brian Epstein wasn't the type to drag his friends into business, even when business and friends work hand in hand sometime. They both worked in the music industry and Noah worked his ass off to promote the Beatles the least Brian could do would be to promote Noah's show.
Noah turned his head in the direction of a great little pub he knew. They had the best chips in the world. Them and a splash of vinegar sounded perfect right then. Practically salivating, Noah gave a shrug and looked back at John. "I'm headed to grab a bite. You wanna tag along? I promise to hide you from Epstein," Noah gave a sly wink and a jerk of his head in the direction of the pub. This was good. Maybe Noah could get John here on his side and strong arm Brian into getting the Beatles onto his show. That would be great. That would be a boost in the ratings that he really needed. Not that he needed help, really. The Sandman was popular, he was idolized. All those other radio listeners who ignored him would be converted with a single word from John Lennon's lips.
POST: done ! - TAG: John - NOTES: So sorry for the wait
|
|
|
|
Post by nobie on Aug 2, 2011 2:45:38 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] THEY'RE TRYING HARD TO PUT ME IN MY PLACE
The Words: 446 The Outfit: Not important The Notes: Woop! John is mopey. THANKS BRIAN (although that's all John's fault)
John found himself shaking his head and laughing at that. ‘His boys?’ now that was something even John couldn’t escape hearing about off and on. Between those damn interviews and casual conversations John was (as always) able to eavesdrop on. But whatever floated Brian’s boat without him bringing theirs down was just peachy. ”Mmm... No… not’a word.”
|
[/b] he hummed in agreement. Sure. They were friends, that was nice. But John wasn’t so ready to let his guard down. Perhaps that aspect had come with the fame. He was, no matter what he said, skeptic of everyone now. Always searching for that reason they chose to talk to him. Whether it be for an interview, a shag, or something along the lines of cutting a lock of his hair off to sell it in some underground black market convention, John kept his eyes narrowed and a good space between them. If it wasn’t on his terms, then he wouldn’t let it be on Noah’s- John’s way or the highway sort of deal. Which… most people came to find pissed them off more than made him friends. But… hey! A Beatle’s got to do what a Beatle’s got to do! It was a cruel, cruel world… He, too, directed his attention to the pub Noah seemed so interested in. Well… he did suppose a drink would be good for cooling off his frustration. Brian had done him in a good one back at the flat, and John didn’t feel so opposed to drinking it all off. He could use a laugh, he supposed. With a shrug and a sad attempt at flashing Noah a half smile, John shoved his hands back into his pockets and nodded towards it, signaling Noah to lead the way. ”Chips sound fab.”[/b] he decided, walking along side Noah in a disorderly fashion. Still not quite feeling ’with’ things quite yet. He still had his head trying so desperately to wrap around what had happened… ’Never realized what a kiss could be. Course… this could only happen t’me…’ When they arrived at the pub, John’s head turned up at the sign out front, smiling for once. Noah didn’t appear to have anything but good intentions through a nice meal a few pints. So who was John to argue with that? Anything to get his mind off the crime he had committed earlier. ”So, Mister Noah; what’s the life of a certain ’Sandman’ consist of? All the glories of being a radio jock not gettin’ ter yer ‘ead yet, ‘m hopin’?”[/b] not that John particularly cared… but it was suppose to be polite to start conversation (so Brian seemed determined to nail into his head) and John really wanted the distraction… [/div] [/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by noah on Aug 9, 2011 16:35:23 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true][atrb= background, i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd490/missbluejayway/beat/NEWMIDDLE.jpg]
Noah lead the way into the pub, shouldering open the door and holding it for John to pass through. The bartender gave him a wave, recognizing him from his many stops there and Noah went to his usual booth. He assumed that John would follow, not seeing any reason for him not to. Noah signaled for the bartender to bring two pints and his biggest basket of chips before diving into one of the booths.. Noah made himself comfortable in the booth, sprawling out sideways and taking up as much room as humanly possible. He had always been the type to lounge about like that, comfortable and space consuming.
Noah stayed that way for a moment before finding a more comfortable position to sit in. He had his back pressed agains the pub wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, dangling off the edge of the booth. Crossing his legs at the ankles, Noah let himself consider John's question carefully before answering. "Well, Mister John, I spend my evenings listening to rock 'n' roll and talking into a microphone hoping that someone on the other side is listening," He didn't mention his fans, his loony followers who broke the law and performed self-mutilation in his name. If Johnny here read the papers he would see a report of fanatical radio listeners who chained themselves to a gate across 10 Downing St., or a report of a young girl hospitalized because she carved SANDMAN into her arm with a pen.
They said it was in devotion, because he was their true voice; he said it was lunacy.
If that was fame, Noah didn't want it. The free meals, the fawning, the autographs though...that was a gas. Noah liked the attention, he fed off of it, but his crazies kept his feet firmly attatched to Earth. There wasn't any way he was ever going to get caught up in the fame game, not when bad things kept happening like that. No matter how many times he'd talk to his listeners, asking them to keep themselves safe and his name out of the papers, they didn't listen. Granted, the majority of them were on drugs but it didn't help his conscience. Noah would never admit it out loud but he lived the way he did, partner to partner, little sleep, irregular meals, hell, even letting Brian do what he does because he felt like it was some sort of penance for that. Well, in Noah's mind it was. To everyone else it looked like the typical life of a rock 'n' roller, to him it was a job, a chore to keep doing until he felt a little better.
Noah loved the music, he loved the message that he got out, but he hated how people took it. He wouldn't change anything, not ever, but sometimes he wished things were just a little different.
POST: finished ! - TAG: John - NOTES: Word count: enough
|
|
|