A Cure To This • •

[ralph leonard lawrence]

Ralph’s ambition of becoming a doctor was dangerously close now. He was finishing up school and looking at what came next, but already he had started looking at areas to specialise in, summer programmes to keep him busy with the local hospitals. It was one thing to spend most of his life talking about something, but now it was fast to being his reality and not the ambitious answer to a question people expected him to come out with something silly to. He had always been a bit of a goofball, the one who could make anyone smile when they were feeling a little bit down. This was probably the only thing Ralph took seriously that people knew of. The rest of the time they saw him crooning with his guitar, or babbling on about a video game that kept him up half of the night just because he had lost track of the time when he was playing. People never really expected to hear him say that he wanted to save lives and make a difference while wearing scrubs and a stethoscope.

There were times that even Ralph couldn’t believe it. Today was sort of one of them. He’d been praised before his class for a paper he had handed in and it just felt strange. He wasn’t stupid by any means, but he wasn’t totally used to having compliments heaped on him by teachers either. He had something of a cheeky side that many of them would tut and shake their head at when they overheard him throughout the years. It had only gotten worse with age and so when they did speak highly of him, it felt foreign and strange. After that class, Ralph hadn’t wanted to stick around the campus. He had needed to clear his head just a bit.

He headed to the park, figuring he could grab lunch at The Boathouse and then see where the rest of the day took him. He didn’t have an afternoon class, and his shift at the Union wasn’t until six, so he was free for quite some time. He figured he could get into some kind of mischief to balance the scales again and set the universe straight again. Ralph took his time walking to the lakeside café, and once there he took a seat by a window so he could occupy himself with people watching while he waited for his food. He had ordered a hot pepper salad, asking for extra peppers and spices. He liked his food hot, and ordered an ice water to go with it. It was only when the food arrived that he noticed something didn’t look right. He examined the dish with his fork and quickly concluded this was not his order. Ralph glanced around for a waitress, but his eyes landed instead on the table next to him and the young girl there who looked like she was about to tuck into her own lunch – which looked very much like what Ralph had ordered. “Hey, excuse me. I think they mixed us up. I wouldn’t bite into that unless you like feeling your tongue burn through your jaw.” He said with a small smile, tilting the dish so she could see what he had before she checked what was in front of her.

• • •

TAGGED! Constance Ruslana Blake
WORDS! 555!
OUTFIT! Charming Chap!
LYRICS! You and Me - - - You + Me
NOTES!

[Constance Ruslana Blake]

Blake's life pretty much revolved around dance in a dozen different forms. She was a lead in a ballet company where practice was gruelling and daily, then there were the classes she took outside of the ballet that were just to keep her sharp. She was eighteen and wanted to stay on top of her game for as long as she possibly could. Her mother had lost her career when she'd been young because she'd fallen in love and found herself pregnant and too young to keep the child and give her the life she deserved. Of course Blake hadn't known that was why her mother coached gymnastics. Blake had been under the impressive she'd just gotten too old to compete anymore. Little had she known. And though Blake could understand, she did not want to follow in her mother's footsteps. When she decided she could no longer dance professionally, it'll be because she made the choice and not because she got knocked up.

And Blake was driven to be better than the best out there. She was an impressive dancer, starting in the best tier of the classes at two when most dancers didn't start until they were three or even more usual, four and five. She had always known she would be a dancer. It was all she ever wanted to be and she was making good on that dream. She was not about to let it slip through her fingers like water or sand. Today was her only day where she didn't have an afternoon dance class or anything else until into the evening. The company had been up and practicing since six in the morning and broke away for lunch and to do fittings for those who needed them and other things that had to be done. Blake's own costume had been fitted the day before just after practice so she'd missed out on lunch and had to snag a sandwich at the corner deli on her way to the jazz class she'd had that afternoon. So she decided on her favourite place to eat in the entire city and headed there once she'd said her goodbyes.

She was harsh and she knew it. She pushed herself and those around her because she wanted them to be the absolute best. Her company knew it though they were probably the only ones who understood and thrived when they were pushed beyond their limits. Once there, she ordered her favourite salad, she liked the almond slivers and mandarin orange slices in it and sat back to send her father an e-mail. He was supposed to be returning to the city soon enough for a few weeks to visit and she wanted to make sure she had things on her end figured out so she could make sure her doorman knew that her father would be visiting and to let him up. Then she moved on to other e-mails and text messages, completely ignoring the view and the people surrounding her. Blake knew she came across a bit detached and in all honestly, she probably was. She didn't much care for other people, ignored them when it suited her and picked fights with people who didn't concern her when she was in a foul mood and someone needed to pay for it. She couldn't argue with the director or she would lose her role and she refused to take it out on her fellow dancers so it was taken out on everyone else. She thanked the waitress when the plate was set in front of her and she finally slipped her phone into her purse as her free hand picked up the fork on her table. The man speaking to her stopped her from actually taking a bit and that was when she really looked at her plate, then over to his. "No. I happen to like my tongue where it is." She said, lifting the plate and holding it out to the mystery man who might have just saved her taste buds.

Tag || ralph leonard lawrence
Words || 647
Clothes || Aloof Brunette
Music || Love Me Like You Mean It --Kelsea Ballerini
Notes || <3!

[ralph leonard lawrence]

Ralph was not typically the type of person many would look at and guess that he was going to be a doctor. He didn’t slog away in the library like some of his fellow med students. He did enough to keep his place in the lower part of the top quarter of his class, but he was happy enough to be there. He didn’t need to be the very best in the room. Ralph didn’t want to boast the best grades if it meant he would miss out on living his life. He didn’t see the point in striving to save others and missing out on your own chances. He still wanted to go out and have fun with his friends, enjoy his music at open mic nights, and try new things. He wanted to explore all the options he had while he was young while still chasing his dreams. If that made him selfish in the eyes of some people, then so be it. Ralph didn’t see it that way at all. In fact, he loved being able to go to class, put in some solid hours of studying at the library and then pack it all away to go and find a bar with his friends and flirt with some pretty girl who caught his eye from across the room. He was only young once and he didn’t want to go to his grave wishing that he had lived more.

Personally, he couldn’t understand how someone could commit themselves to one thing in life. Be ambitious, sure, but spread that ambition around. Ralph wanted to be a doctor, he wanted to be a musician, he wanted to see the world…he wanted it all. It was a little bit greedy maybe, but it meant he got a bit of everything. He wasn’t about to just throw himself into one thing and then look back ten years later and think about every other chance he missed out on because he was driven solely to be a doctor; the best doctor. He didn’t want to be in his thirties and realising then that he had missed a shot at a great relationship because he was purely about his career. At the same time, he didn’t want to throw his career away because he was goofing off with his buddies every weekend and coming into work unfit for his profession. He knew he wanted that balance in his life between serious and fun, but thankfully fun came more naturally to him anyway. It didn’t take much for Ralph to be able to kick back and make jokes with his buddies.

A teensy tiny part of him sort of wished the stranger had taken a bite of his meal. That part of him was reserved for pranking his friends though, not pretty strangers. Thankfully, Ralph was far more of a sweetheart than he was a prankster which was why he had interrupted before anything hilariously bad could happen. “Then let’s switch and restore order to this universe which we call home.” He suggested with just an air of goofy charm to go with his boyish smirk. They often worked well together, at least in his experience. Ever since he had suddenly undergone a teenage transformation thanks to hormones and genetics, he had balanced his goofball ways with his good looks and charisma pretty damn well. It worked for him, and silly harmless bets with friends about who could score a number in a bar first usually ended up in his favour. Ralph never considered himself much of a flirt though, but his friends suggested he flirted without even realising it. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy your own order far more than that.” He added quickly switching the plates around and digging his fork into the pepper infused salad. The moment it touched his tongue his taste buds were on fire, and he loved it. “Mm, like a volcano between my teeth. Not for the faint of flavour.” Still, as much as he adored his spicy food, it didn’t stop Ralph reaching for his water to take the edge off the spices burning the tip of his tongue.

• • •

TAGGED! Constance Ruslana Blake
WORDS! 699!
OUTFIT! Charming Chap!
LYRICS! You and Me - - - You + Me
NOTES!

[Constance Ruslana Blake]

Blake knew what people thought when they looked at her. They saw a pretty, petite, young thing with her nose in the air or in her phone; just another snooty rich kid, thinking the world owed them something. That was hardly the case. Sure, her family had a bit of money but it was nothing to boast about and she hardly spent her days socialising and fake laughing at bad jokes just to keep her social circle happy with her. Blake didn’t give a damn about celebrities. She wouldn’t know Ryan Reynolds from Ryan Gosling and she was okay with that. She only knew the ones in that one movie because it was about ballet. And Blake had to admit, that Black Swan was a decent film. But the celebrities she did care about were the ones that no one outside the dance world knew the names of. It wasn’t the same for music though and that seemed to surprise people even more than her total disinterest in the world did. She loved her classical pieces of course, but there was so much on her iPod, it was an actual miracle if she heard the same song twice at any given time unless she put it on repeat.

None of that meant she had any time though to do anything with social. Blake woke up in the morning and went for a run, then she returned home, showered, grabbed her bag and hit the dance studio or the theatre to practice until her toes bled. And then she practiced some more. A break for lunch didn’t mean anything, though she could toss back a steak with the big fat chips and not gain a pound and then if it wasn’t rehearsal, it was a dance class or if her father was in town, she went to a show with him because he wanted to see something. And if there was a day she didn’t have to be up for rehearsal, she would put something too short, too slinky, too revealing on with heels that made grown men weep with joy, or pain, depending on how she used them, and she hit a dance floor for a night. It was simple. If Blake wasn’t dancing, she was sleeping or eating. It was everything to her. Boys didn’t matter, none had piqued her interest in the time she’d been in New York, and the few friends she did have danced. Not that Blake actually thought about boys or men unless they were her dance partners. She was too driven to get out of the fog she lived in.

Blake knew she probably needed to let loose but she figured there would be time enough for that when she was too old to dance professionally; or when she was established enough that taking a break from the stage wouldn’t completely ruin her like it would right now. “Definitely.” She took her meal and set it on the table in front of her. She wasn’t in the least bit impressed with The Boathouse after this. And she was going to make sure she mentioned it to the manager before she left. She blinked and looked at the man whose order was switched with her, surprised he was still talking to her. She wasn’t someone people saw and decided to chat up. Ever. “Yes. I may not need my voice for work but I appreciate it for other things.” She told him after a minute, looking down at her salad suspiciously now. Even with her weariness, Blake took a small bite of her salad and chewed it thoroughly, making sure it was actually her order. Satisfied, she forked up another bite, prepared to stuff that in her mouth when the stranger said something else. She wasn’t sure if he was just talking or talking to her. She was more of the person people gave a lot of space to when they had to pass her walking and she knew it. She gave off that air of bitch but this man seemed to be immune to it. She watched him for a minute as she chewed the food in her mouth. “How do you eat that?” She finally asked, giving into her desire to understand how anyone could enjoy that much heat to their food. She wasn’t bland by any means but that salad in front of him seemed like an overload.

Tag || ralph leonard lawrence
Words || 736
Clothes || Aloof Brunette
Music || Love Me Like You Mean It --Kelsea Ballerini
Notes || <3!

[ralph leonard lawrence]

Ralph didn’t aspire to be a neurosurgeon or cardiologist. He didn’t want to work with the sickest of the sick, hold the hands of those whose chances of survival were nigh on impossible. He wanted a place in a clinic, preferably one where anyone could walk in to be checked out by a health professional. He didn’t want to be burdened with things like insurance details and bills. Healthcare wasn’t something he felt people ought to have to buy or earn; people had a human right to look after themselves and to be looked after by others. He thought it was ridiculous when some of his case studies came about because a person had been too poor to get a minor thing looked at in the first place, so it grew and mutated into something else, something more sinister. Ralph wanted to be the friendly face, the one people knew wouldn’t be judging them if they lived below the poverty line. He wanted to help people even if it was just battling off colds or children with chicken pox.

It was a job someone had to do, and Ralph was more than willing to do it. He didn’t care about being the hero in the ER, or the surgeon who changed lives. He just wanted to do the little things. He knew that for some people and their families those little things would mean the world. Plus, he knew from friends that helping someone clear up their acne or eczema could be just as lifechanging as an organ transplant. They were extremely different things, but to different people they could have the same transformative power. It was that sort of thing that amazed Ralph. Medicine, be it small or large scale, was such a wonderful thing. Just a few more months and he’d be doing his residency and then he would really feel like he was a part of that world. Right now, he was just looking through the window, nose against the glass, longing for all that he saw on the other side.

In the meantime, he was just going to see what else life had to throw at him. He was just thankful he had rescued his meal – and the girl – before any real mistakes could be made. He didn’t think she’d appreciate trying to cope with his dish after taking a bite of it. “I had strep throat three summers ago.” He paused to take a bite of his lunch. “I was teaching this middle school kid guitar at the time, so I always had mine with me so I could just catch the subway to his family’s home for his classes.” He reached for his glass slowly. The spices didn’t really bother him, as hot as they were. “But everyone who knew me kept asking me where I was playing or hanging out for a jam session. I couldn’t even rasp out my name, let alone croon along to some old favourite.” He laughed at the memory, even if it hadn’t been so funny at the time. It had been annoying, and he’d been sick as hell. However, the spare cash had paid for his textbooks and let him upgrade the not-so-comfy mattress he had owned at the time. He shrugged, like the spicy dish was really not a big deal for him. “I grew up on spices. Mexican food, hot chicken wings, hot sauce…I love spicy food.” He was also lucky enough that his digestive system didn’t rebel when he ate it. Ralph also balanced it out with healthy options so that he didn’t upset his stomach or overload himself with the kind of stuff that would trigger a textbook reaction and leave him needing antacids or unable to eat some of his favourite meals.

• • •

TAGGED! Constance Ruslana Blake
WORDS! 638!
LYRICS! You and Me - - - You + Me
NOTES!

[Constance Ruslana Blake]

For Blake, there was nothing but dance. From the time she was a toddler, it was all she wanted much to her mother's dismay. She had hoped Blake would be like her and wanted to be a gymnast. Sadly, Blake found no pleasure in the actions of the gym. Oh, she loved to watch the kids training, upon the equipment, spinning and flipping and throwing themselves into the air but she didn't want to do it herself. She loved to move her body to the music, feel the rhythm in her bones and work out a routine to best use the music. Blake might have been a contemporary ballerina, trained all her life to be a Prima, didn't mean she didn't love all styles. She took classes outside of her work and training hours in Jazz, Tap, Hip-hop, contemporary, salsa, tango and flamenco. The only style she didn't practice was break dancing. She loved to dance and felt like break dancing, though incredible, could potentially lead to an injury and if Blake didn't have her dancing, she didn't have anything. Quite literally, she'd been dancing her entire life, her schooling even came second to it. She had absolutely nothing but a closed off attitude and slightly unnerving demeanour to fall back on.

The only thing she had going for her at the moment, aside from dance was that she was still so young. In dance, much like gymnastics, there is a ticking clock counting down the time before she can no longer dance. Youth was the key and though she could teach, she could choreograph, she just didn't want to do those things until she was so much older and felt like it was time to sort out the rest of her life. She was only eighteen years old, barely a legal adult anywhere in the world, never mind the country she was currently, and for the foreseeable future, calling home. If injury befell her now, she had time to spiral, get depressed, hate herself and then dig herself out from the deep end, take up more hobbies, take a class or two and find out what she really liked about the world. For now though, Blake just wanted to think about the next show they were performing. She was lead and it was exciting but she refused to show it. She didn't want people to see that she had a soft spot. They all worked incredibly hard for their company and every once in a while, the lead would change to suit the atmosphere of the production. It was nothing new but she was what suited, and what had been suiting more often than not since she'd stepped off the plane two years before.

For the life of her, Blake couldn't understand why this man was still talking to her. She wasn't the kind of person people saw and wanted to get to know. She sat and she also stood straight as a stick, she had a look about her that screamed to just walk away while you had a chance. And yet, here was he was telling her about the time he'd been too sick to talk and therefore had been unable to do his job as well as he would have normally. She knew she'd said something, she'd probably even technically started the conversation but still, this was all still very new and unusual for the Russian beauty. It was an anomaly for the brunette to have anyone that didn't belong to her dance company or the various classes she took outside of work try and hold a conversation with her. She wasn't exactly stoic but she knew she didn't give off the "I give free hugs" vibe that seemed to draw people in. It was something she would have to talk to her father about when she called her parents later. "I can see that." She said after a moment of chewing on her own meal, still worrying, in the back of her mind, that she was going to take a bite and hit a ghost pepper or whatever this guy has in his food.

Tag || ralph leonard lawrence
Words || 689
Music || Love Me Like You Mean It --Kelsea Ballerini
Notes || <3!

[ralph leonard lawrence]

Ralph wasn’t the type of person who planned the next ten years out. Yes, he was in college to become a doctor, but he didn’t have everything else scribbled out on paper ready to tick off once he achieved it. He didn’t care if he was married or single by the time he turned thirty. Children? Yes, he would like them, but he had no time frame on the ankle biters. Ralph didn’t see the point in putting deadlines on things like that. Surely it was more important to enjoy life, to take the time to make sure the right person was the one to spend forever with. Too much carelessness was already out there in the world. Too many kids already suffered from broken homes and fighting families. He’d rather spend his time making sure the happy ending was concrete, was the sort of thing he could promise. There would always be time to worry about the little stuff, to nitpick about the price of bread and worry over the weather for travelling. Ralph was all about making memories, doing as much as he could while it was still possible. Yes, one day he wanted to have those family photos in his wallet to show off to people who didn’t ask, but before that he wanted to make the most of the years he had to explore the world and enjoy his time with friends.

He didn’t see the point in working hard now only to look back in thirty years and think that he had missed out on so much. He also didn’t want to look back and wish that he had worked harder. Ralph felt confident that he had that balance between work and play in hand. He wouldn’t slave over textbooks in preparation for an exam if he couldn’t celebrate once it was over. There was nothing better than a party or a night in a bar once the stress was in the rear view mirror. Even if he felt like the exam hadn’t gone so well there was nothing he could do about it once it was over, and cramming for the next one immediately was a waste of time – he didn’t know what would be on it, or when it might even be. Everyone needed to blow off some steam, to just exist in this grand world of chaos from time to time. It was when Ralph himself felt most alive. Then, and when he was making music, just lost in the melody of a great song with great people around him.

If this girl didn’t want to be spoken to, Ralph wasn’t picking up on that vibe. In fact, the only thing he picked up was his plate to move it to her table. He felt like if he was going to have a conversation with her then it only made sense to sit with her. They were probably bothering the other patrons by speaking across the narrow aisle and Ralph wasn’t the type of guy to be blatantly rude like that. “I’d probably need some more peppers or chili’s on your plate for me to eat it. Or put it all between some bread – that would work too.” He said with a playful smile before shovelling another bite of red hot spices into his mouth. “I’m Ralph, by the way.”

• • •

TAGGED! Constance Ruslana Blake
WORDS! 555!
LYRICS! You and Me - - - You + Me
NOTES!

[Constance Ruslana Blake]

Blake only had dance. It was the broken record she constantly played. Once she could no longer dance professionally on a stage anymore, she would wallow a little bit- especially if it wasn’t her choice, fall down a small but significant depression-themed rabbit hole then pick herself back up and figure out her next steps. She was making a lot more than the average dancer right now, most of which she set aside in a rainy-day fund. She could afford to spend some time trying to figure out who she is outside of dance. Unfortunately, Blake was scared that she didn’t have anything outside of dance. It was, truly, her entire life. She woke up thinking about her dance routines and how she was going to perfect this or that. She thought about dance while she stretched, went for a job, ate her meals, and drank her coffee. She thought about dance while she showered off the day and slipped into bed. It was all she had. One day she hoped to have something more in her life. Perhaps a man would come along and entice her in new ways, show her there’s more to life than just perfecting pointe. Until that day came though, she would continue as she was.

This were changing. She didn’t know if it was for better or worse, only time would tell her that. She found her long-lost sister and was supposed to be meeting up with her at her place of choosing soon enough. They were trying to figure out when the best time would be since they both had strange schedules. It was exciting, it was nerve-wracking, and Blake wasn’t entirely sure how she really felt about it all. Except, that she was quite mad at her mother for keeping such a huge secret from her. She’d left Russia because of it and well, dance. She been a fully, classically trained Russian ballerina. She was the cream of the crop, what every other ballerina strived to be. While Blake strived to be them. Her mother had wanted a gymnast and got a dancer, so she made her go to all the classes, take all the lessons and by the time most kids were just realising they wanted to dance professionally, she was already part of a company, albeit a corps de ballet dancer but still; she was on a stage!

Either the man with the hot pepper meal was oblivious or Blake wasn’t giving off her usual “Leave me alone” vibes that made people cross the street whenever she was walking towards them. Either way, she wasn’t about to tell him to go away. She hadn’t had real conversation outside of dance or her phone calls to her father, in a really long time. So long that she couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d talked to anyone outside her company circle. And even with most of them, it was dance because she was still so much younger than even the youngest dancer in the company by three years. “I’m going to take your word on that being tasty.” She said with a smirk, digging her fork into her food once more. She couldn’t fathom having that much spice in her food. She was by no means a bland meal kind of girl and quite enjoyed the occasional heat to her foods but that just seemed like overkill. “Nice to meet you, Ralph. I’m Blake.” She offered, remembering what her father was constantly reminding her of and smiled along with the introduction. It was quite the habit of hers to forget to smile and it was always her father to reminded her that she had a brilliant smile and should share it more often. Whether or not he was just saying that because he was her father and therefore had to believe that his daughter was the most beautiful little girl in the world or not was another thing entirely. And something that Blake refused to consider because that meant that it was a lie. Her father was many things, but a liar he was not.

Tag || ralph leonard lawrence
Words || 684
Music || Love Me Like You Mean It --Kelsea Ballerini
Notes || I'm not sorry for the random rant at the end there. <3!