Making a Fool of Himself (Open.)
Sept 13, 2011 20:40:28 GMT -5
Post by Odion Martins on Sept 13, 2011 20:40:28 GMT -5
Odion really wasn’t sure what had possessed him to go to the club this weekend, but he was bored. Mind numbingly bored. He was pretty sure Rhett would find him beyond annoying if he tried to see him again so soon, so he had to make do on his own, something he was very tired of doing. He wasn’t sure of himself anymore, and tonight, he didn’t want to be calculated. He didn’t want to think about Rhett and what kind of relationship they had – even his brain was hurting from processing everything about their last date encounter.
Perhaps the only thing helping him in this situation was his height. In his mind, it was the only reason why the fake ID had worked to begin with. Not a lot of people would look at him and think he’d pass for twenty one. Really he looked only to be around fifteen, and that was bad enough already. He liked to blame it on his lack of nutrition while growing up as an orphan, where teenage boys could care less about the recommended intake of vegetables and fibre they were supposed to have. There were way better things to steal anyways. Or buy, like a fake ID.
If there was something Odion wished he had inherited from his biological parents, it would be the ability to hold his liquor. The ginger was the definition of light-weight, especially after having had only three rum and cokes. Odi wasn’t dancing, just sitting at the bar. Still, everything was starting to get fuzzy and he couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his face. “Hi,” he said to the girl sitting next to him, a girl who seemed a little too eager to speak to him.
“No, I don’t come here often,” he said to her, the accent in his voice strange - he never could pigeonhole what nationality he sounded like most. Odion was waving around hisstolen money a bit much, buying the girl next to him a drink, causing her to clinging to him like a bee to a flower. The redhead found the girl’s touch a little unbearable, but he was throwing his shyness to the wind for now, wanting to be a different person tonight.
“Oh, no, I’m not drunk enough to dance yet,” he tried to tell her, but she insisted, dragging him to the dance floor. His ‘dancing’ was simply stepping side to side awkwardly, and his inebriated state caused him to collide with a body. “Sorry!” He yelled into the unsuspecting victim’s ear, his usually blue eyes turned green from the lighting.
Perhaps the only thing helping him in this situation was his height. In his mind, it was the only reason why the fake ID had worked to begin with. Not a lot of people would look at him and think he’d pass for twenty one. Really he looked only to be around fifteen, and that was bad enough already. He liked to blame it on his lack of nutrition while growing up as an orphan, where teenage boys could care less about the recommended intake of vegetables and fibre they were supposed to have. There were way better things to steal anyways. Or buy, like a fake ID.
If there was something Odion wished he had inherited from his biological parents, it would be the ability to hold his liquor. The ginger was the definition of light-weight, especially after having had only three rum and cokes. Odi wasn’t dancing, just sitting at the bar. Still, everything was starting to get fuzzy and he couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his face. “Hi,” he said to the girl sitting next to him, a girl who seemed a little too eager to speak to him.
“No, I don’t come here often,” he said to her, the accent in his voice strange - he never could pigeonhole what nationality he sounded like most. Odion was waving around his
“Oh, no, I’m not drunk enough to dance yet,” he tried to tell her, but she insisted, dragging him to the dance floor. His ‘dancing’ was simply stepping side to side awkwardly, and his inebriated state caused him to collide with a body. “Sorry!” He yelled into the unsuspecting victim’s ear, his usually blue eyes turned green from the lighting.
