forum i'm bored who wants to do a one-on-one? (closed)

Started October 02, 2018 by @MusicElle-is-here

tune

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “Just read from the script right”—she flipped to a specific page—“here.” She handed him the small stack of papers.

He took the papers, skimming over them quickly. This is well written. He cleared his throat, tring to get back the face of the Zavian Fern knew amd hated. "Okay. Tell me when to start."

Fern sensed the shift, glancing at the wall instead of Zavian’s face with that expression on it. She turned on the camera. She glanced back at him for moment, nodding at him to start.

He read the paper out loud. As himself. Ever since he started living with his grandma, he'd read her her favorite books or poetry, maybe sing for her. She taught him expression, something he couldn't get rid of, which is why he was careful not to read in class. Even as he read, he could feel Fern's presence as could only feel judgement. He finally finished reading, glad to have it over with. "That ok?"

Fern nodded. “Better than okay,” she replied. “That was really good!” She frowned. “For someone who always half-asses things, anyway.” Why was she being difficult? She didn’t know. By deep down, she felt he was only doing it for a grade, using her, just like so many other cute boys had.

He scoffed, returning the frown. "Well, I'm sorry if it's not your smart-allec liking, Ms.Fiesty." He leaned back further in his chair. This is what you get for being like this. He sighed, shaking his head. "You know, you should be grateful I'm even helping."

Fern folded her arms with a scoff. “Oh, I get it, actually doing your share of the work is beneath you,” she fired back. “Being anywhere near me is beneath you, Mr.Oh-So-Important.” This is what she got for picking a fight in the first place.

"You know what?!" Calm down. He stood up, his chair falling down behind him. "Shut the f@#$ up! You think I wanted this anymore than you do?!" A voice came from behind him "Zavian! Is everything alright?" His face went still as he turned around, everything inside of him calming. "No, sorry grandma. Go back to bed." He gave her a smile on reassurance as she walked away, a look of concern filling her face. He waited until the door was closed to turn back around. His voice was quiet and unsteady, almost fragile. "Sorry." He picked up the chair and sat on it, staring at the ground.

While he was yelling at her, Fern’s anger had flared, but when she saw how quiet he went, her counterarguements faded on her tongue. She felt guilty for being so rude to him. “Yeah, me too,” she replied. “I’m sorry for making this harder than it has to be.” She sighed. Her voice went soft. “Are you okay?”

"It doesn't matter." There was a well inside of him that held any emotion he had to temporarily that he would discard through song later. That's where it all went. He's gotten a lot better at filling it and emptying it. That's what all the papers on the walls were. Welled up moments. He made a quick glance to his guitar before looking back to the floor, voice still quiet. "Let's just finish this."

Fern nodded, sensing his unease. “Yeah, Okay,” she agreed. “Your turn to film.”

He took the camera gently and got it ready, nodding when he was ready for her to read. In the back of his mind, a song he had written was playing. He quickly pushed it away feeling more emotion than he wanted to feel.

Fern was almost surprised at the gentle way he handled the camera, grateful he was taking care of it and knowing it was more than than she probably deserved. She read from the passage, imagining the words making a picture in her mind, trying to paint it using her tongue. The analogy would sound dumb to him, she thought but nevertheless did her best to sound as good as he had.

She had sounded amazing. That was expressed in all the right ways was what he wanted to say as he turned off the camera. But he didn't. "Right." He sat up, finally gathering the courage to look her in the eyes. "What now?"

“I don’t know,” she replied. “We’re almost done, but we need somebody to act and I’m kind of camera shy…” She blushed, looking down. “But since I doubt you want to do it, I could probably force one of my siblings or something. Maybe.” She felt really stupid, but hoped that he would volunteer to do it. She would’ve never thought so normally but after tonight she wasn’t sure.

"Why would you be camera shy?" Shoot shoot shoot. "I mean." He felt his face heat up. "I can do it, it's fine." What did you just say?!

She paused, confused. “Okay,” she replied. “What do you mean, why would I be camera shy?” She hoped it wasn’t because she was good student or something like that.

"I- nevermind it's not important." He stood up, running his hand through his hair. "Just tell me what to do."

Fern blinked, surprised and definitely confused. “Okay,” She said. “Thanks, by the way.” She proceeded to inform him on what she wanted him to do, the expression on her face a little bit more happy than it had been earlier.

It was something about her smile. He listened to her intently, nodding his hand to show he understood. "Okay." He stood back when she was done. "Just tell me when."

She readied her camera, turning it on. “When,” She said with a smirk. She knew it might be a little annoying to edit that out but being a smart alec was too fun to pass up.

He stiffled a laugh before starting. He received wyat she had told him to, with the same amount, or more, of expression. It felt odd doing so in front of someone besides his grandma, but he couldn't not.

Fern was so enthralled by him that she almost forgot to tell him when to stop. When he laughed at her joke, her heart had fluttered. She tried to ignore that but she was captivated by the way he talked. “And cut! That was great!” She beamed.

"Uh- thanks." He ran his hand through his hair. Something had changed in the room, both their smiles matching. He cleared his throat, unsure of what else to say. "What now?"

Fern began to put her camera away, smiling shyly. “I don’t know,” she replied, looking into his eyes. She didn’t want to leave, suddenly wanting to stay here as long as possible. Painting alone in her room now seemed a lot less compelling.