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Post by harper avery stevenage on Apr 12, 2015 6:20:05 GMT -5
![](http://i60.tinypic.com/15zma1w.jpg) The open mic nights were Harper’s favourite thing that The Lounge did. She enjoyed a few of the other evenings there, but she was only nineteen and not like some of the other students who were proud holders of fake IDs. That was the main reason she didn’t go out and party around the city with her friends, and with her cousin living in the same building as her and checking in regularly it wasn’t like she could slip anything past him. He might kill her if he thought she was being reckless. She couldn’t blame any of her family for worrying about her though, not after everything that she had been through and then deciding to run away to The Big Apple for university. Still, Harper had needed to spread her wings to prove to everyone, including herself, that she was capable of doing everything she had once only ever dreamed of. If anything the music had been the thing to save her after the crash and now she was trying to turn that into something more.
When she wasn’t working at Apollo or focusing on her assignments for class, Harper was usually scribbling new lyrics into one of the journals she always carried with her, or out there in the world performing. It was usually the warmer months when she took to the streets to busk, but the rest of the time she was scribbling her name down for as many open mic night slots as she could find. At a few of them across the city she was a definite regular, but she had a wide arsenal of original material, as well as catering to covers of songs she garnered strength from to stop the crowds from hearing the same old thing from her again and again. She was young, and she still had a lot to learn about life, but Harper didn’t lack the strength or confidence to get out there and give something a shot. She knew better than most that life was too damn short and unpredictable to shy away from things or put things off until tomorrow – which inevitably never came for most procrastinators.
Tonight, she was set with her favourite guitar. She had owned it since she was fifteen, bought by her brother for her birthday and by now it was starting to show its age, but at the same time it was easy to see that she took great care of it by the way she handled the instrument. Harper had one of the later slots, so she sat close to the back and watched everyone else go before her, cheering them on with the room. She always felt it was important to be supportive of people in their dreams, offering help wherever she could. Friends were always calling her whenever they needed help, or numbers for assignments and she was happy to help them out, just like she told them when she had nights like this, though she understood when they couldn’t make it. Everyone had deadlines to meet, and lives to live and she didn’t need familiar faces in the crowd to help her up on stage. She breezed through her set when the time came, trying out some new material she was pretty excited with, and then thanked the student crowd before putting her guitar back in its case and heading towards the bar. “Glass of water, please.” She asked, smiling politely as she perched on one of the high stools. She’d stay for the rest of the acts, but would probably head home soon after that. None of her friends were here, and she’d have to try and get a cab back at the late hour.
• • • TAGGED! Thierry Austin Harlow WORDS! 621! OUTFIT! Sweetheart Singer! LYRICS! Old Scars / Future Hearts - - - All Time Low NOTES! <3
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Post by Thierry Austin Harlow on May 5, 2015 10:35:54 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/JE36_zpsgz3usumq.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/Lyrics%20Graphics/d926b1-Take%20Your%20Time_zpslodkzbge.png) Thierry hadn’t told his parents that he was tending bar to pay for New York. It would have raised too many questions and he really didn’t feel like answering them. As long as they knew he was alive and well, it really didn’t matter what he was doing. It wasn’t like he was doing anything illegal and he enjoyed what he was doing to pass the time between classes. There was only so much that could be done in New York before it all started to become boring and mundane. If there was one thing Thierry hated, it was the mundane. There needed to be more to life than the same old song and dance. That was a big reason why he accepted the bartending gig in the first place. Each night he worked, it was something new, something fresh. That was also why he went into advertising. The ideas were new, were fresh and even the old could be repurposed to create something new and brilliant.
It was all so fascinating. But he was almost done school and then things would get real. Thierry was actually excited about what would come next for him. While all his classmates were freaking out about that, Thierry welcomed the unknown of his future. Of course, thinking about all that shouldn’t happen while he was behind the bar but he was very good at multitasking. He could flirt with women at the bar, talk about the women with the guys while mixing drinks and thinking about what he wanted to do when he got home. He wasn’t particularly a night owl but he always found it difficult to go straight to sleep right when he got home. Not eve a shower before falling into bed worked.
Laughing at what the woman across the shiny bar top he was serving said, despite not hearing the words at all, he mixed up the drink order he had heard and set it in front of her with a wink and his signature mischievous grin. He made change for her and thanked her when she pushed it back towards him. He’d once heard that tending bar was a hard and thankless job but whoever had originally said that didn’t know just just how far a smile and a wink went. He moved the tip and was wiping down the counter when the next request was made and he smiled at the girl who had been up on stage a few moments ago for her turn on the stage. “Coming right up.” He said, even as he was spinning around to get the bottle from the fridge. “You were really good up there.” He continued, turning back towards the bar and the young girl. “The best I’ve heard all night. And here you are.” He added, pushing the water bottle across to her. Open mic night was one of Thierry’s favourites. There were always some terrible people who thought they were the absolute best, but then there were those like this girl who actually were good and deserved the praise and recognition.
Tag || harper avery stevenage Words || 540 Clothes || Cheeky Bartender Music || Take Your Time --Sam Hunt Notes || <3
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Post by harper avery stevenage on May 7, 2015 6:26:24 GMT -5
![](http://i60.tinypic.com/15zma1w.jpg) The stresses of school hadn’t crept up on Harper yet. She wasn’t the kind to get bogged down by little worries or fret over things she couldn’t change. Harper tried her best and that was all she could do. There were friends she had who wanted to do more than that, but Harper had been through enough in the last couple of years to know that there was a hell of a lot more to life than freaking out over an exam or deadline. She wouldn’t let herself panic over things like that when she had come back from the edge of death and surprised so many with her survival. Harper was in New York simply to spread her wings and to prove to people, and herself, that she could carry on with her life; the accident was behind her now. She wanted a life just like everyone else, and while elements of that might be slightly more difficult for her, she didn’t see anything as being impossible.
Music was just the thing she could have right away, no matter where she was or what she was doing. If a day was unbearable, music was there, and it was there on the best of days, too. It had seen her through everything and Harper currently only dreamt of one day giving that back to the people. She knew how powerful it could be and she wasn’t ashamed or afraid to tell her story, be it over lunch or in her songs. It had been painful to recall at first, but it had gotten easier and Harper knew that her accident had been caused by something people needed to be aware of. Back home she was practically a walking campaign as she finished up high school, but she didn’t want to be that in New York. This was her chance to find herself and really discover who she was away from the town where everyone knew her name because she was the girl who survived, or the girl who had lost her leg. People had chosen how they had wanted to see her and it had stopped being about the music after she cut from the wreckage.
Being on stage though all of those memories were far from the front of her mind. Harper knew they were defining moments in her life, but she wanted to be more than them. She was going to create something bigger than that crash to be remembered by, even if it took her whole life to make it happen. Her moment up there was over far too quickly though, but the buzz from the performance remained with her. Harper picked up the bottle and smiled, chugging back a few mouthfuls before she responded. “Thanks! I was trying some new material out.” She admitted. None of it had been heard by anyone before tonight, and her apartment walls made for a very neutral audience. “But I bet you say that to all the girls.” She joked with a wide smile, bringing the water back to her lips.
• • • TAGGED! Thierry Austin Harlow WORDS! 515! OUTFIT! Sweetheart Singer! LYRICS! Old Scars / Future Hearts - - - All Time Low NOTES! <3
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Post by Thierry Austin Harlow on Aug 27, 2015 15:41:28 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/JE36_zpsgz3usumq.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/Lyrics%20Graphics/d926b1-Take%20Your%20Time_zpslodkzbge.png) Thierry was enjoying his time in New York and thinking more and more each day that he would stick around after he was finished with his schooling. It was just such a lively city and Thierry never really knew what would greet him every time he stepped out onto the street. He’d heard before he’d moved to the city that it was a scary place, that there were murders, mayhem and mafia members on every street corner. Reality was rather dull after hearing the tall tales. The prostitutes he’d been warned about weren’t flaunting themselves on every corner, but in the shadier parts of the city, the mafia and Thierry knew they were around, weren’t blatantly obvious about their business, in fact Thierry wouldn’t even been able to point any out though he could easily spot shady looking people but just because they looked it, didn’t mean they were. And like everywhere, death occurred but it wasn’t like the television shows where it was everywhere, every day on ever street. The crime rate wasn’t low but it also wasn’t the worst out there. And that was what he’d told his parents when he’d decided to move so far away from home for school.
London wasn’t really so different from New York in certain aspects. Things happened everywhere, there was no way of getting around it. So long as Thierry reported back to his parents that all was well, they didn’t overly concern themselves with New York news. They didn’t need to know he was working in a bar, they didn’t need to know what he got up to on his off hours. He told them his grades, that he was doing well and his colleagues were good fun. And he actually liked what he did to earn a few extra dollars worth of pocket money. His parents took care of everything whilst he was at school so his job took care of the extra things he didn’t want to ask his parents for, or the drinks he paid for on nights out. Though it was in cash, he knew his parents would see the money removed from his accounts and they would ask why he didn’t just use the cash card instead.
Thierry wiped down the bar between pouring drinks and getting beers, between flirting with the girls, talking sports and women with the guys and listening to the acts play their material. Some weren’t so great and those were the ones Thierry tended to do other things through while others were really incredible. Those were the acts that Thierry really listened to. He habitually stopped what he was doing unless someone was ordering drinks from him. This girl had been one of those particular cases. “It was incredible.” Thierry admitted, chuckling softly. He had never really understood the point of lying when it was obviously a lie. Telling her she wasn’t any good would have been a blatant lie. “Only the ones with beautiful voices and bright smiles.” He said playfully, wiping down the counter between them.
Tag || harper avery stevenage Words || 552 Clothes || Cheeky Bartender Music || Take Your Time --Sam Hunt Notes || <3
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Post by harper avery stevenage on Aug 30, 2015 17:44:55 GMT -5
![](http://i60.tinypic.com/15zma1w.jpg) New York was Harper’s chance to prove that she could make a go of things on her own and that her dreams weren’t out of her reach. She didn’t want to be known for the things she couldn’t do, but rather for all the things that she could. The accident had stolen what should have been some of her greatest years and switched good memories for painful ones. There had been a lot of tears and frustrations and now she was catching up. Harper wasn’t the type to let something hold her down or keep her back and she had proven that already back home. She was the girl with the voice who spoke up when the shop assistant one time suggested she try jeans instead of shorts all because of her prosthetic. Yeah, Harper liked her jeans, but why should she have to boil in the summer heat just because someone was a little shocked that she was missing a limb? They were more offensive and shocking things out there and she wasn’t going to let ignorance hold her back. First though, she had to make it through college, and that was what New York was mostly about.
Each phone call home started with a check up on school. Harper doubted she could get away with making it sound like she was slacking off even the tiniest bit. Not that she ever would. She was studying her passion after all. She knew not everyone was as lucky as that, that some people had to spend four years or more working through something they found tedious but in the end would pay off and open the door for a career they had dreamt of for almost as long as they had been alive. Harper didn’t really know what she would do with the rest of her life and after the accident she had learnt to stop worrying about things like that. She just wanted to live, and to experience as much as she possibly could before her appointment with Grim. That was why she tried not to order the same thing twice in restaurants, and always shopped in different places as much as she could. Variety was the spice of life after all!
The only real constant in Harper’s life was the music. It had been there ever since she was a little girl and still held her up now. She didn’t think that would ever change. “Aw, thank you.” Harper always accepted any compliments with a big smile because it was polite, and she had been brought up to have good manners. “And I suppose you get plenty of them in here.” It was the hottest spot on campus for music lovers and aspiring artists. Harper wouldn’t delude herself by thinking she was anything special. Plus, tonight she was on her own. Put her with her friends and normally she was just a face in the crowd, often made unique when it became clear that one of her legs was created by bio-medics and had cost a pretty price to give her back a decent range of mobility. It was odd how much she had missed dancing when it was something she hadn’t been able to do.
• • • TAGGED! Thierry Austin Harlow WORDS! 542! OUTFIT! Sweetheart Singer! LYRICS! Old Scars / Future Hearts - - - All Time Low NOTES! <3
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Post by Thierry Austin Harlow on Sept 28, 2015 10:37:46 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/JE36_zpsgz3usumq.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/Lyrics%20Graphics/d926b1-Take%20Your%20Time_zpslodkzbge.png) Thierry liked where his life was heading. He had absolutely no idea if it would stay that way or if it would end being something totally different at the end of it all. But he was definitely enjoying the ride while he was on it. His parents weren’t overly concerned with what he got up to. They were his parents, so they did worry but they let him have some small bit of freedom. And he never told them everything he got up to in his spare time because it would have one or both of them knocking in his front door demanding an explanation. And he wouldn’t really have one for them other than the little fact that he was twenty three, out on his own and trying to experience all that he could while he was still able to get away with it all. He cared a lot about getting his education. Thierry wanted his degree so he could land himself a good job in his field of choice and work his way up the ladder.
He had some pretty great ideas rolling around in his head and he wanted to share them with the world, prove his worth in the world of advertising. It was something Thierry was passionate about. There really weren’t that many people out there that could say they’d found a career they could be really passionate about. As much as he wanted to stick around and see what happened next, he was also excited to see where the next chapter led him. School was almost done for him. The only next step was moving on up and onto the next thing. He couldn’t stay on at the lounge forever. And his time there was going to end sooner rather than later but that was okay because Thierry wanted to get his feet wet. He already had a couple offers, it was really just a matter of picking which was the best fit for him.
But he still had time for all of that. School wasn’t over yet and until it was, he was just going to keep going. He liked the lounge, he loved the open mic nights. So many different artists came in, hoping to show off their musical prowess. Some just wanted an audience to try out some new songs, others just loved the stage. And some unfortunately, were just wain and thought everyone needed to hear them and see them even if they were tone deaf, colour blind idiots who should never step foot on a stage ever again unless it was a comedy routine. “You’re welcome and i mean it. It was one of the best I’ve ever seen.” He said and it was true. He’d been working there long enough to have developed an ear for music. He would never find himself a music producer or anything like that but he could tell the good ones from the bad ones and the worst from them all. “I’ll admit, we get plenty of beautiful voices and dozens of bright smiles but we hardly get the combo.” He told her. It was his opinion, at least. Somebody else probably thought differently but that was hoe Thierry saw it all.
Tag || harper avery stevenage Words || 563 Clothes || Cheeky Bartender Music || Take Your Time --Sam Hunt Notes || <3
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Post by harper avery stevenage on Oct 3, 2015 7:21:59 GMT -5
![](http://i60.tinypic.com/15zma1w.jpg) Harper knew her parents were about as worried as parents could be. She didn’t hold that against them. They had every right to be that way. How she had survived that wreckage had been nothing short of a miracle, and then everything she had endured afterwards had been a parent’s worst nightmare and something she had never even imagined. She had only been sixteen, of course she wasn’t going to think about losing a leg and having to go through months and months of rehabilitation and therapy before anyone would sort of say ‘okay, here you go, now have your life back’. All Harper had wanted was to hang out with her friends and buy that top she had seen at the mall the week before – it had sparrows on it and that was her nickname. Now she was far away from home and reclaiming those lost years while her parents ended every phone call with a desperate cry for her to be careful. She knew other parents maybe did the same, but she didn’t think it was in the same tone. Hers knew what could happen because it already had. They just didn’t need to go through it again. Neither did Harper. All Harper wanted was the future she intended to have all along, which was one full of music.
The accident couldn’t take that away from her. She could still play her guitar, write her music and her voice had returned better than ever once there weren’t tubes lodged in her throat. Some of her best pieces had been written in a hospital bed and the only adaption she made these days was that she took a stool out with her when she busked anywhere, just so her leg didn’t cramp up or start to ache. It was collapsible, and a gift from her cousin, so it folded up neatly and she could carry it without a struggle. She joked it made a good weapon too if anyone bothered her on those days, but no one ever did. There were a few heckles about her leg, but she had that ever since she decided not to hide it away. If she wanted to wear a dress, or shorts then why should she feel ashamed about that? No, Harper wanted to dress up like every other girl out there and she’d be damned if a prosthetic was going to stop her! Besides, it was nice and decorated anyway. She had picked out the design herself with the doctors who had talked her through everything before she was fitted with what she liked to think of as the extension of herself – the missing part returned, or leg 2.0 if she was playing sci-fi with her brother and watching Planet Terror for the millionth time. Though a machine gun leg carried many problems in Harper’s opinion, even if it was awesome.
However, that wasn’t in her future. Music was. She was studying for it, and spent most of her free time focussing on it, too. It was her passion and her goal and there wasn’t a damn thing in the world that could take that away from her. Harper thought she had proved that much already in her life, but she would keep on proving that until her last breath if she had to. “Music is pretty much everything to me. I’m glad that it’s paying off.” She said with a smile, taking another drink from her glass again. Without it she honestly didn’t know what she would be. If it wasn’t her guitar then it was the piano in her apartment or in one of the practice rooms, taking her to a place only the melody could. “Oh, you’re smooth! But, I like things to be shaken up a little more.” She said, raising her eyebrow challengingly, her lips twitching into a smirk as she looked up at him with wide brown eyes and waited to see if he’d do anything else. It was just a bit of fun, but Harper liked to play from time to time. Life was more interesting when she didn’t know what would happen next. She just hoped it wouldn’t disappoint.
• • • TAGGED! Thierry Austin Harlow WORDS! 700! OUTFIT! Sweetheart Singer! LYRICS! Old Scars / Future Hearts - - - All Time Low NOTES! <3
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Post by Thierry Austin Harlow on Jul 24, 2016 16:01:56 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/JE36_zpsgz3usumq.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/Lyrics%20Graphics/d926b1-Take%20Your%20Time_zpslodkzbge.png) Thierry had never done anything that would warrant his parent's concern; unless leaving home and moving to the other side of the planet counted. He'd done that and his parents though they were happy he was setting out to do what he wanted, were worried they'd never see their son again. They made it sound like he was going off to war and not just school in New York. He was too much his mother's son for there to be any real problems but his parents liked to joke there would always be problems with their laidback son. Tessa was still so type A that it surprised Thierry's friends that she was his older sister. She was making lists and plans and doing all of that and when it didn't turn out how she planned it or someone wanted to switch it up, she had a huge panic attack, freaked out with a full blown screaming fit and then utter silence from her. Thierry had always been of the mentality that it would all happen as it was meant to. Tess didn't understand that though and he understood that she desperately needed these routines, he couldn't fathom where her mind was. He was so much the opposite of her that even trying to step into her shoes gave him a headache. Of course, he also knew that he had been part of the problem when he'd been younger because he'd wanted to do this while that was on the planned list instead. There were a lot of family trips divided because she had to follow her lists.
New York was much like Tessa so Thierry had been prepared for what he would experience in an odd way. He knew type A and it was like the entire city was a Type A personality, fighting with itself and everyone else to get to the scene of the accident before the paramedics. It was kind of funny when he thought about it but no one else seemed to understand what he would go on about. Eventually Thierry had learned not to explain his thoughts unless he accidentally voiced them out loud. Then they needed an explanation or people would think he was genuinely insane. Not that insanity was a bad thing. He had to be a little bit crazy to go into marketing otherwise all the advertisements would be dull and boring! Not that he was overly worried about anything like that while he was behind the bar, serving up drinks.
Thierry wasn't in any hurry to get on with life after university. He knew what he was after and would work towards it when the time came but it wasn't there just yet. Soon enough but not quite yet. "You should book a time when we've got the scouts in. You'd have a contract signed in a snap." He told her. He rarely said anything he didn't mean unless he was genuinely out to shock someone and then it was said to get a rise, not for anything more than that. Thierry looked at the girl across from him with a devilish smirk. "Would you rather I'd said I thought you were an angel in every way and someone I very much wanted to press against a locked door?" He asked, lifting his brow questioningly. "Because I could have said it like that but my mother didn't raise me to be crude." He added after a second.
Tag || harper avery stevenage Words || 576 Clothes || Cheeky Bartender Music || Take Your Time --Sam Hunt Notes || <3
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Post by harper avery stevenage on Jul 25, 2016 13:18:15 GMT -5
![](http://i60.tinypic.com/15zma1w.jpg) Harper had never been reckless. She wasn’t the rebellious kind. She might have climbed a tree or two when she was a kid because her brother dared her to, but she wasn’t the type of girl who ran out into the world looking for trouble. Even the accident had happened when she ought to have been completely fine. It was a clear day, broad daylight, and she was only driving to pick up her brother. It should have been simple, but instead she woke up in a hospital having gone through the most horrific experience of her life. She heard stories of people driving erratic all the time, breaking speed limits and acting careless, but none of them seemed to end up with life changing injuries. It was almost always the innocent party in the stories who ended up having their lives ruined. The driver who hit Harper had ended up in prison, but aside from a concussion and some cracked ribs, he walked away. Harper knew there was every chance she might have wound up stuck and unable to find a reason to push forward again after the crash. She had met people who were trapped in their nightmares, and stuck in an endless depression because of what had been taken from them.
That wasn’t Harper though. It would have been so easy to fall into that, to give up. She was a dreamer though, and music was a part of her soul. To deny it would be to deny who she was. When people had been fussing over her, telling her to go slow, Harper had wanted to run on at full power, barrelling through all hurdles that were in her way. Going to New York was just another obstacle she wanted to throw herself at. Yes, it was terrifying, and yes, she was completely crazy for making the move alone after everything she had gone through. However, she had a cousin in the same building as her, and she was doing it to prove that bad things did not have to define a person. She might never be able to get away from the accident and the changes it had caused her, but that didn’t mean the accident had to steal away her dreams. Harper could still sing, play, and write her music. Until the day came that any of that changed, Harper would shoot for the stars.
Harper let out a soft laugh. “My parents might appreciate me finishing school first.” She knew they’d be over the moon if she achieved her dreams, but after everything they also wanted some security for their daughter first. A college diploma was a step towards that, and Harper would quite like to do something to ease their worries a little. She knew she couldn’t chase them away completely; they were her parents after all, and they would always worry. His words stunned Harper into silence, and her cheeks burned scarlet as she gaped at him. No one said things like that to her. Maybe to her friends, but never to her. “You might change your mind if you got me out of my pants.” Part of her wished she’d opted for a skirt or shorts tonight and not jeans. Harper never deliberately hid her prosthetic leg – she was in no way ashamed of it – but having it concealed behind denim certainly made moments like this awkward in her mind. She didn’t know if this cute bartender had seen her around before. She had no clue whatsoever if he already knew that there was more to her than music and a happy smile. All Harper was sure of was the fact that telling him her tragic past and revealing her missing limb right now was sure to ruin their flirty moment, and she wasn’t sure she wanted that to happen. She had been having too much fun.
• • • TAGGED! Thierry Austin Harlow WORDS! 651! OUTFIT! Sweetheart Singer! LYRICS! Old Scars / Future Hearts - - - All Time Low NOTES! <3
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Post by Thierry Austin Harlow on Jul 28, 2017 13:20:22 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/JE36_zpsgz3usumq.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/Lyrics%20Graphics/d926b1-Take%20Your%20Time_zpslodkzbge.png) Thierry actually liked working at the bar. It was energetic and there were always new faces to greet and get to know. He knew the regular's orders by heart and didn't need to be told twice what anyone needed. He was good at being a bartender. He was good at what he was studying to do as well. The bar might not have been what his parents wanted for him but it had been what he had been after and that for him was what really mattered. He knew they'd known from the beginning that he wasn't meant for the corporate world like his father. And if that didn't work out, he would point out how much he could make with the right company at the right time. It was a hell of a lot, more than enough to live on, especially with the perks he could negotiate for himself. He might not want to go into a corporate business but damn if he didn't know how to work the system.
He hadn't been the rebellious kind of kid growing up; at least, that's what he told himself. He was a bit of a devil, raising hell just because he was curious. But really, what kid wasn't? Kids wanted to know about the world and they wanted to explore it. Unless a parent scared them out of it, they kind of did as they pleased and apologised for it later. That's what Thierry used to do. Maybe it was different on this side of the world, maybe not, but his parents had given him some leeway to see the world around him. They hadn't wanted him to go so far away from them for school either but they had understood his need to see the whole world, get the experiences that he need. And New York really was the best place for him to be when he finished school, it was the place to be for advertising. He was already in talks with some people to get in on the ground floor. It wasn't where he wanted to be obviously, but it was a start and he would happily climb all the ladders he needed to in order to get where he wanted to be.
It was both a long time in the future and not nearly long enough. He felt like he had all the time in the world and none at all at the same time. It was insane but it was how school worked. Life wasn't allowed to start before you finished but at the same time, things needed to be rolling before the confident walk across that stage; the finish line. It was something Thierry didn't want to think about but it was also something that crept up on him when he let his mind wander. It wasn't wandering now to things like the future but somehow, it kept sneaking in. "Probably. So do that, too." He said with a shrug. He was a big advocate of doing what made you happy. He probably shouldn't have been but his parents had raised him to have an open mind about it all, even if they'd both hoped he would end up at the family business, too. Thierry couldn't help himself, he smirked at the girl across from him with that devil-may-care grin he did so well. "I very much doubt that."
Tag || harper avery stevenage Words || 564 Clothes || Cheeky Bartender Music || Take Your Time --Sam Hunt Notes || <3
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Post by harper avery stevenage on Sept 23, 2017 14:38:03 GMT -5
![](http://i60.tinypic.com/15zma1w.jpg) Officially, Harper was disabled. She could use the handicapped facilities without question, and anyone driving her places benefited from her disabled parking permit. Harper actually loathed having it, even with the benefits that came with it sometimes, especially on the bad days when her body ached with each step or jolted movement. Normally, Harper didn’t see herself as being hindered in life. She might have had a false leg, a wonderful prosthetic that aided her more than she ever imagined when it was first put to her in a hospital bed, but Harper still went shopping with friends, she still played her music and wrote songs when they came to her, she could enjoy her life as much as the next person. The only real difference was that sometimes she was in pain because of the nerve endings sending the wrong signals, or the pressure of her prosthetic rubbing the skin despite the care she took to avoid that. Even with those rare days of darkness, remembering the long, long months of recovery, Harper was determined not to let her accident take away any of her chances in life. She had lived for a reason, and she wasn’t going to waste that chance.
It bothered her when people had things handed to them so easily, barely recognising how lucky they were to have such a fine life. It bothered her when others simply decided that nothing was worth the effort so they’d ignore their potential and let their life trickle on by without caring about the chances they had lost. Harper had been close enough to death that the Reaper had breathed his cold, chilling breath over her face. That was more than a wake up call for a girl who was already hardworking and driven about her future. Now there was nothing in the world that she was going to let stop her, even if fears surged up at the final moment of a big day, or anxiety gnawed at her gut like nothing she had experienced before. Harper wasn’t going to give in when somehow she had gambled with the God of Death and won more time on this planet. She wasn’t religious, but death was a power she wasn’t about to joke with. She had the scars and the nightmares to remind her of just how serious that was, even if she used a dark humour as a coping mechanism. If she didn’t laugh about it, she’d be a prisoner to her nightmares and Harper was better than that.
“That is my plan.” Harper said easily. She could do both, so she would. She wasn’t an either or type of girl. If she could have two desserts then she would. Life was too short to not explore every avenue. “I’m not shackled down, forced to live by one thing or another.” She held her hands up as if to show they were free of chains. Her heart was racing a little. She wasn’t typically the girl guys flirted with, and since she broke up with her ex for college she had been a little out of practice with the whole dating game; that included the art of flirting. Fortunately, Harper’s card to play in every situation was her humour, however dark and twisted it was to some people. She smiled coyly and leaned over the bar a little more. “Well, I can do this one thing where I get my leg behind my head…” She trailed off and then looked him dead in the eye. “I pull it off first.” Falling back into her seat, Harper never looked away from him, studying his expression. She finished the dregs of her water and picked up her guitar case. “Catch you on the flip side, Curly Fry.” She called, peering back over her shoulder as she made for the door, feeling the unbalanced weight of her body settle as she took the first few steps away from the bar.
• • • TAGGED! Thierry Austin Harlow WORDS! 670! OUTFIT! Sweetheart Singer! LYRICS! Old Scars / Future Hearts - - - All Time Low NOTES! <3
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